My high has come way down for some reason.
I've doing good for the last three weeks or so. Waking up around 5:30, getting to work on time before anyone else, about 7. But I woke up this morning and could not for the life of me muster the will or realize the importance of going to work today. Maybe it's the fact that a whole month has gone by already and I don't know what I did with it. Compounded with being a cold morning, and that I am so freakin' far behind on my projects at work that it's scary. I did make it to work eventually, but it was entirely too difficult. Someone needs to slap me in the face with a reality check. I've got this charade down so well right now that people just leave me alone when I am in my funk. Problem is I am the most unproductive, lazy slacker when I get like this, but nobody can see it. I've perfected the art of loathing in self-pity and looking like a busy bee. I'm such a bastard sometimes.
I can't seem to get out of my rut this morning and so it will probably be this way for the rest of the day. At least 'til I can get to the gym this afternoon.
Peace,
Simon
Monday, January 31, 2005
Thursday, January 27, 2005
Tales of the future
And now, a prognostication.
I'm going to be discovered. I'm sure of it. One of these days, I will get sloppy and someone will kick me out of my cramped closet into the light of day. Probably by my office mate since I'm never sure if he's looking over my shoulder. Or my wife when she accidentally opens up my stash of beautiful boys on my laptop. Or perhaps an old friend that I have yet to meet that will come back to haunt me later. Some people may not truly care. Some people will be devestated. Some proud. Maybe I'm just fooling myself and people deep down already know and are just waiting for my own admission. Regardless, I will have to confront this like the careening carwreck I suspect it will be.
It would be amiss to not mention that it's an arousing prospect. As everyday passes I can feel myself becoming more accepting and comfortable about it. I do long for when I can actively satiate my appetite for romantic affections from a fine bedfellow. But still, when the portents race through my mind, I get petrified, frantic, and a slight sense of vertigo all to the point of practically peeing myself. I have no idea what will happen. I cannot tell when. It could be months, days, years, or tomorrow. It will happen.
And honestly... I certainly hope it does.
Peace,
Simon
I'm going to be discovered. I'm sure of it. One of these days, I will get sloppy and someone will kick me out of my cramped closet into the light of day. Probably by my office mate since I'm never sure if he's looking over my shoulder. Or my wife when she accidentally opens up my stash of beautiful boys on my laptop. Or perhaps an old friend that I have yet to meet that will come back to haunt me later. Some people may not truly care. Some people will be devestated. Some proud. Maybe I'm just fooling myself and people deep down already know and are just waiting for my own admission. Regardless, I will have to confront this like the careening carwreck I suspect it will be.
It would be amiss to not mention that it's an arousing prospect. As everyday passes I can feel myself becoming more accepting and comfortable about it. I do long for when I can actively satiate my appetite for romantic affections from a fine bedfellow. But still, when the portents race through my mind, I get petrified, frantic, and a slight sense of vertigo all to the point of practically peeing myself. I have no idea what will happen. I cannot tell when. It could be months, days, years, or tomorrow. It will happen.
And honestly... I certainly hope it does.
Peace,
Simon
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
And what's your name...
I've been a little more active lately in trying to figure out what I like in the realm of men. I'm getting much more courageous. Part of the problem is I have no gay friends in real life, at least not any that I could confide in without disrupting my life. Yes, yes I am a hypcrite, blah blah blah, I'll deal with that later.
I broke down and joined one of those gay personal sites and have been chatting and meeting new people on there. I even posted a few pictures of myself, but then chickened out and took them back down. I'm not comfortable with my own body yet. (Maybe when I get that new six pack from the gym...right.) I'm scared out of my mind to meet any of these people in "real life" though for obvious reasons.
When I explain my situation to fellow closet dwellers they always tell me I'm probably bi. I go back and forth all the time wondering about this. There are a few things I consider. Of all the straight porn I can remember exploring, I always just wanted to see the camera focus on the guys face, his beautiful body and powerful thrusts, and the girl just became a noisy nuisance. Girls simply don't turn me on anymore. They don't enter my fantasies. I don't turn an eye when a lusciously attractive member of the female persuasion passes on by although I still appreciate their beauty in a different, passive way. (I also don't dig effeminate guys, although ironically, I think I may come off to be a bit feminine myself.) And anyways, for years since then, I've only looked for gay porn to get me off. It may also be that I just haven't had any physical contact or felt a connection with another guy yet, in that "I want you, let's hump like rabbits," kind of way. At least none that I am consciously aware of. My radar is awful when it comes to reading those kinds of signals.
On a different matter, I realize now that I utterly despise the project I am in the midst of at work. People around me think it's because of it's subject matter (a catalog of adult material) and me being the good boy I am and all, but obviously it's not the sex that bothers me. It's a knee jerk reaction that I give off that impression because I grew up with it and am used to acting adversely against the "sins" of pornography. As you can see, change doesn't happen easily for me on the surface. I'm pretty sure people don't think of me as a sexual person and probably still associate me with having cooties or something (Eewwww, YOU'RE not supposed to have SEX!). I've got a rep as being the pure one, the one people look to as a pillar of stability in these matters. Truth be told, it's all of us overtly pure people you have to watch out for.
Peace,
Simon
I broke down and joined one of those gay personal sites and have been chatting and meeting new people on there. I even posted a few pictures of myself, but then chickened out and took them back down. I'm not comfortable with my own body yet. (Maybe when I get that new six pack from the gym...right.) I'm scared out of my mind to meet any of these people in "real life" though for obvious reasons.
When I explain my situation to fellow closet dwellers they always tell me I'm probably bi. I go back and forth all the time wondering about this. There are a few things I consider. Of all the straight porn I can remember exploring, I always just wanted to see the camera focus on the guys face, his beautiful body and powerful thrusts, and the girl just became a noisy nuisance. Girls simply don't turn me on anymore. They don't enter my fantasies. I don't turn an eye when a lusciously attractive member of the female persuasion passes on by although I still appreciate their beauty in a different, passive way. (I also don't dig effeminate guys, although ironically, I think I may come off to be a bit feminine myself.) And anyways, for years since then, I've only looked for gay porn to get me off. It may also be that I just haven't had any physical contact or felt a connection with another guy yet, in that "I want you, let's hump like rabbits," kind of way. At least none that I am consciously aware of. My radar is awful when it comes to reading those kinds of signals.
On a different matter, I realize now that I utterly despise the project I am in the midst of at work. People around me think it's because of it's subject matter (a catalog of adult material) and me being the good boy I am and all, but obviously it's not the sex that bothers me. It's a knee jerk reaction that I give off that impression because I grew up with it and am used to acting adversely against the "sins" of pornography. As you can see, change doesn't happen easily for me on the surface. I'm pretty sure people don't think of me as a sexual person and probably still associate me with having cooties or something (Eewwww, YOU'RE not supposed to have SEX!). I've got a rep as being the pure one, the one people look to as a pillar of stability in these matters. Truth be told, it's all of us overtly pure people you have to watch out for.
Peace,
Simon
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
My Pound of Flesh
I'd be lying if I said I didn't care about my physical appearance. I want to get ripped.
I've been pretty physically inactive for most of my life. As a kid, TV was my best friend and going outside to "play" was as bad as getting punished for a felony. I was the guy who miserably failed PE out of choice. I remember once my parents sent me to this summer thing for kids with nothing better to do during the day and it was torture. The other boys were all athletic and I hated sports and I would find any excuse to sit it out or hide in the corner with a book and hope no one paid attention. In retrospect, maybe I was just embarrassed by how cute they were and didn't feel like hanging out with them the way that boys, uh, hang out.
Suffice to say, I never, ever thought I would join a gym. A few years ago, during a real low point, just for the heck of it I went and joined. Man, what I had been missing. It's the best thing I'd ever done for myself. If I had started doing this in college who can say what might have become of me. The physical and mental invigoration I'm feeling now is like, all of the sudden I can take a clean deep breath for the first time. Anyways I could go on and on about the benefits of exercise but it should probably just be common sense right?
It's a double-edged sword for me, there's also some damn fine guys that frequent my gym. I've had to exercise some stealth and more concentration than usual. Not being used to so much prime beef in, well, the flesh, I've caught myself staring. The rhythms, the motion, the grunting and sweating. It is inspiring, and new and really a bit dangerous for me. I've almost had a few catastrophes on the treadmill when I don't concentrate on what I'm doing! And my *ahem* fantasies have become much more, informed shall we say. No skinny waifish guys for me, give me a healthy bundle of toned muscle and I'm a happy jack in the shower. Makes you wonder who's looking at you out of the corner of their eye... although I'm sure no one is looking at my out-of-shape bod. The other thing I noticed is that none of the built guys my age use the locker room. At least none that I've seen. But then again I'm pretty shy and would probably never use the locker rooms either...
Then most of last year I had to give it up for cash flow shortage. Due to other things in my life last year, during that time I got extremely depressed and lethargic so my wife told me for the sake of maintaining a semblance of life that I should try and join back up. It's only been two weeks and already I feel ten times better. Today I go back to see a trainer at the gym, I call him X-man. He's awesome, built and strangely I don't have a crush on him. I probably respect him too much because he knows what he's doing. He also kills me in my workout, but it's an acceptable death.
In approximately eight months, I will be 28. I figure by that time I should feel 28 instead of 58. Let the countdown commence.
Peace,
Simon
I've been pretty physically inactive for most of my life. As a kid, TV was my best friend and going outside to "play" was as bad as getting punished for a felony. I was the guy who miserably failed PE out of choice. I remember once my parents sent me to this summer thing for kids with nothing better to do during the day and it was torture. The other boys were all athletic and I hated sports and I would find any excuse to sit it out or hide in the corner with a book and hope no one paid attention. In retrospect, maybe I was just embarrassed by how cute they were and didn't feel like hanging out with them the way that boys, uh, hang out.
Suffice to say, I never, ever thought I would join a gym. A few years ago, during a real low point, just for the heck of it I went and joined. Man, what I had been missing. It's the best thing I'd ever done for myself. If I had started doing this in college who can say what might have become of me. The physical and mental invigoration I'm feeling now is like, all of the sudden I can take a clean deep breath for the first time. Anyways I could go on and on about the benefits of exercise but it should probably just be common sense right?
It's a double-edged sword for me, there's also some damn fine guys that frequent my gym. I've had to exercise some stealth and more concentration than usual. Not being used to so much prime beef in, well, the flesh, I've caught myself staring. The rhythms, the motion, the grunting and sweating. It is inspiring, and new and really a bit dangerous for me. I've almost had a few catastrophes on the treadmill when I don't concentrate on what I'm doing! And my *ahem* fantasies have become much more, informed shall we say. No skinny waifish guys for me, give me a healthy bundle of toned muscle and I'm a happy jack in the shower. Makes you wonder who's looking at you out of the corner of their eye... although I'm sure no one is looking at my out-of-shape bod. The other thing I noticed is that none of the built guys my age use the locker room. At least none that I've seen. But then again I'm pretty shy and would probably never use the locker rooms either...
Then most of last year I had to give it up for cash flow shortage. Due to other things in my life last year, during that time I got extremely depressed and lethargic so my wife told me for the sake of maintaining a semblance of life that I should try and join back up. It's only been two weeks and already I feel ten times better. Today I go back to see a trainer at the gym, I call him X-man. He's awesome, built and strangely I don't have a crush on him. I probably respect him too much because he knows what he's doing. He also kills me in my workout, but it's an acceptable death.
In approximately eight months, I will be 28. I figure by that time I should feel 28 instead of 58. Let the countdown commence.
Peace,
Simon
Sunday, January 09, 2005
Greetings
So here we go.
Here's the basics: I'm an average 27 year old, middle class, white, married guy with a wonderful wife, two kids, a house, all the debt that goes with it, a decent paying job, getting by in an average existance. My family is happy and healthy so for all intents and purposes I should be a happy fella. But there's one more thing, stop me if you've heard this one before: I'm gay and nobody knows it.
So why stay in the closet?
Why does anyone keep these things a secret. Well, besides a current socially and politically charged climate towards being gay in the good 'ol USA, here's a bit of personal history: I think I've been gay for most of my life. I grew up in a non-denominational Christian church and was always taught that homosexuality is an abomination. So, from early on I was taught to reject what I was. A testament to the power of instilling beliefs in children at a young age if ever there was one. I no longer believe in that narrow path but the fear still carries on to this day. When I first began to question everything I also fell in to a depression so great that it shut me down physically and mentally. Nothing mattered anymore.
When I met my wife I was at the end of my rope. Ready to throw in the towel and just drift off into hopelessness for eternity. I didn't know who I was or what I was doing. (I guess I am also melodramatic sometimes.) She was an old high school friend and she brought me out of doldrums into a brighter life. And so, I thought, why not get married. Besides being my wife, she's also my best friend. Then we had kids, and now we are a team to the end.
So, why hide my sexuality? Now is not the time for selfishness. I now have people who depend on me for their livlihood and I must follow through on that no matter what. My survival instincts as the leader of my pack have kicked in and I must act responsibly to them first and foremost. To throw this wrench into the works would be...a really bad idea.
It is truly difficult sometimes but, I think, I have learned that when you are attached to a person long enough, love will transcend gender. For me, the sex just falls into place after that. I give her what she needs and she gives back as best she can. Don't get confused, I'm not bisexual either, when it comes to pure lust the male species is what turns me on and gets me off. I'll probably revisit this more at length when I can figure out myself but that's my story right now. Perhaps someday when the time is right, I'll reveal all these things to the ones I love, but right now it would cause too much pain and confusion. Thus my secret life. I'm sure if you dig deep enough you've got your secrets, too...
Now, I don't feel like I'm the "blogging" type. I don't think my life is that interesting and my writing skills are nothing special. So why did I finally break down and do this?
A few reasons come to mind. First off, I've kept this side of me out of the picture for so long, it's about time I had a public outlet before I do anything drastically stupid. These things can have a pressure cooker affect, but this is as close and safe to "out" as I can possibly think to be. And, yes, I am sure that if someone really wants to figure out who I am they could do it, it is the internet after all. But that's the way things go and I'll reach that threshold when or if I come to it.
After discovering other blogs I realized I'm not alone. People use these to bounce ideas off each other, support each other in times of strife. Blow off some steam with as silent an audience as you feel fit. There are people out there who actually give a damn. Which is as far away from my state of mind as possible. So there must be something to this blogging thing. Right now it's a lazy Sunday afternoon and I'm already feeling a little better that I've gotten this far. This may not last forever but I can't be blamed for giving it a sporting chance.
Peace,
Simon
Here's the basics: I'm an average 27 year old, middle class, white, married guy with a wonderful wife, two kids, a house, all the debt that goes with it, a decent paying job, getting by in an average existance. My family is happy and healthy so for all intents and purposes I should be a happy fella. But there's one more thing, stop me if you've heard this one before: I'm gay and nobody knows it.
So why stay in the closet?
Why does anyone keep these things a secret. Well, besides a current socially and politically charged climate towards being gay in the good 'ol USA, here's a bit of personal history: I think I've been gay for most of my life. I grew up in a non-denominational Christian church and was always taught that homosexuality is an abomination. So, from early on I was taught to reject what I was. A testament to the power of instilling beliefs in children at a young age if ever there was one. I no longer believe in that narrow path but the fear still carries on to this day. When I first began to question everything I also fell in to a depression so great that it shut me down physically and mentally. Nothing mattered anymore.
When I met my wife I was at the end of my rope. Ready to throw in the towel and just drift off into hopelessness for eternity. I didn't know who I was or what I was doing. (I guess I am also melodramatic sometimes.) She was an old high school friend and she brought me out of doldrums into a brighter life. And so, I thought, why not get married. Besides being my wife, she's also my best friend. Then we had kids, and now we are a team to the end.
So, why hide my sexuality? Now is not the time for selfishness. I now have people who depend on me for their livlihood and I must follow through on that no matter what. My survival instincts as the leader of my pack have kicked in and I must act responsibly to them first and foremost. To throw this wrench into the works would be...a really bad idea.
It is truly difficult sometimes but, I think, I have learned that when you are attached to a person long enough, love will transcend gender. For me, the sex just falls into place after that. I give her what she needs and she gives back as best she can. Don't get confused, I'm not bisexual either, when it comes to pure lust the male species is what turns me on and gets me off. I'll probably revisit this more at length when I can figure out myself but that's my story right now. Perhaps someday when the time is right, I'll reveal all these things to the ones I love, but right now it would cause too much pain and confusion. Thus my secret life. I'm sure if you dig deep enough you've got your secrets, too...
Now, I don't feel like I'm the "blogging" type. I don't think my life is that interesting and my writing skills are nothing special. So why did I finally break down and do this?
A few reasons come to mind. First off, I've kept this side of me out of the picture for so long, it's about time I had a public outlet before I do anything drastically stupid. These things can have a pressure cooker affect, but this is as close and safe to "out" as I can possibly think to be. And, yes, I am sure that if someone really wants to figure out who I am they could do it, it is the internet after all. But that's the way things go and I'll reach that threshold when or if I come to it.
After discovering other blogs I realized I'm not alone. People use these to bounce ideas off each other, support each other in times of strife. Blow off some steam with as silent an audience as you feel fit. There are people out there who actually give a damn. Which is as far away from my state of mind as possible. So there must be something to this blogging thing. Right now it's a lazy Sunday afternoon and I'm already feeling a little better that I've gotten this far. This may not last forever but I can't be blamed for giving it a sporting chance.
Peace,
Simon
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