Thursday, September 04, 2003
I have crushes.
I guess I'm that one-in-a-hundred of gay men. I never had furtive jack-off sessions with other boys at the age of 13, no "accidental" drunken seductions of, or by, straight guys - none of it. I've never really even hit on a straight man. I'm a statistical anomaly. Instead of all that, I have crushes.
The mystery of the heterosexual man is just that to gay men, a mystery. It's one we can't truly crack, just like the fact that however close we are as friends, they'll never completely understand us. 'Course, if these legions of heteros are truly straight, the difference between us is that they've no attraction to us. We can't all say the same of our feelings towards them. Sexually, the heterosexual man lives in a code, in heiroglyphics. Some of us just want a piece of the code.
There's this guy, Colin, a jock - a basketball player. He's nice. Smart. Definitely hot. I don't even know for certain, 100%, that he's straight. But he's engaged, alas, to a woman. So we could assume that even-if-let's-say he is gay, he probably isn't dying to start spreading the news. Even-if-let's-say doesn't tend to say much; it signifies, but more, I think, about the messenger. And that would be me. And I'm saying this about Colin... ergo, I've got a crush. On Colin. Have since the first day I saw him. He and I are friendly, casually; we'll occasionally discuss sports in line at the cafeteria, and we had a class together once. So there's a basic relationship there, a proverbial foot in the door, but nothing especially special. And it's not like anything's gonna happen. That's the problem with blasted straight guys - and more often than not, with crushes. Ah, unrequited something-or-other.
This is the first segment of my novel-in-progress, 'logical progression' (version 2.1), which I've decided to post. Not here, mind, but in a new blog titled, go figure, 'logical progression'. I hope to post segments each day or so until I get everything I've written thus far up. Feel free to comment via email and let me know what you think, good, bad, or indifferent. [Happy now, Johnny? *grin*] I'm on a digging-up-old-writing kick of late, as evidenced by the journal entry I posted last night. Expect more of those in the coming weeks, along with (possibly) some other writings from the past, including - if I can find them - some poetry I wrote way back in high school. It's not especially good, I think, but some might find it interesting. I do, as an archeological artifact of who I am/was, if nothing else.
I guess I'm that one-in-a-hundred of gay men. I never had furtive jack-off sessions with other boys at the age of 13, no "accidental" drunken seductions of, or by, straight guys - none of it. I've never really even hit on a straight man. I'm a statistical anomaly. Instead of all that, I have crushes.
The mystery of the heterosexual man is just that to gay men, a mystery. It's one we can't truly crack, just like the fact that however close we are as friends, they'll never completely understand us. 'Course, if these legions of heteros are truly straight, the difference between us is that they've no attraction to us. We can't all say the same of our feelings towards them. Sexually, the heterosexual man lives in a code, in heiroglyphics. Some of us just want a piece of the code.
There's this guy, Colin, a jock - a basketball player. He's nice. Smart. Definitely hot. I don't even know for certain, 100%, that he's straight. But he's engaged, alas, to a woman. So we could assume that even-if-let's-say he is gay, he probably isn't dying to start spreading the news. Even-if-let's-say doesn't tend to say much; it signifies, but more, I think, about the messenger. And that would be me. And I'm saying this about Colin... ergo, I've got a crush. On Colin. Have since the first day I saw him. He and I are friendly, casually; we'll occasionally discuss sports in line at the cafeteria, and we had a class together once. So there's a basic relationship there, a proverbial foot in the door, but nothing especially special. And it's not like anything's gonna happen. That's the problem with blasted straight guys - and more often than not, with crushes. Ah, unrequited something-or-other.
This is the first segment of my novel-in-progress, 'logical progression' (version 2.1), which I've decided to post. Not here, mind, but in a new blog titled, go figure, 'logical progression'. I hope to post segments each day or so until I get everything I've written thus far up. Feel free to comment via email and let me know what you think, good, bad, or indifferent. [Happy now, Johnny? *grin*] I'm on a digging-up-old-writing kick of late, as evidenced by the journal entry I posted last night. Expect more of those in the coming weeks, along with (possibly) some other writings from the past, including - if I can find them - some poetry I wrote way back in high school. It's not especially good, I think, but some might find it interesting. I do, as an archeological artifact of who I am/was, if nothing else.
# posted by Thomas : 3:08 PM
