How The Hell Do You Know You Like This One?

I don't get to like people much. Not because I dislike so many people, but because I feel sorry everytime I find myself being fond of someone. How he or she must feel if he or she finds out that I even remotely like him or her? I can't stand the nauseating idea of making someone sick from learning my favourable feelings towards that person. Also it is very rare that I find anybody who has reasons for me to like him or her.

 

But am only talking about instantaneous feelings here. Like these good fucking sparks you get when you first see someone. Some may call them lust, some may call them love at first sight; I call them my instant judgement giving a nudge to my heart to jump.

 

They don't happen to me much. I am never out on looking for shag or fling or love, ever, and I don't even know what am I supposed to do when I see someone and my heart jumps. So I just freeze. Next thing I do is to stare. I know it's creepy and more disturbing than me confessing undying whatever to anyone, but it's automatic thing. I just want to look at someone who made my heart GO. Still, I never find out, though, what is the thing about this person, or why my heart's racing. What do I want from this person? Do I even like this one?

 

Don't suppose my heart's reactions are lust or love, not necessarily anyway. For instance, that jumping sporadically happens with non-humans, and I don't want to do little fury animals. I don't trust my heart anyway, though. I am a kind of person who needs someone else's approval to finally admit that I like someone. Let's say I knew 7 little dwarfs, and I probably said I liked them to their face which made them run away from me, but in my own tiny brain I knew I only really liked just 1 of them, or maybe not even that many. It's that heavy decision to make. (After all, once I admit to liking someone I will likely to like that person for rest of my life.)

 

Not saying that you should always go for the first impressions and instincts, nor that you only love once, but how the hell do you suppose to date 100 people one after another, and tell them you love him/her each time, that you never felt like that before and that is the true love, and swear to heaven that you mean it? I'd rather hating the whole goddamn world than bothering them nice people.

Concession of Connotation

So I have to tell these people how angry I am and have no idea what to say. I am Jack's angry sea urchin, until I open my mouth and my anger evaporates like a half generated fart. It just doesn't form itself into sentences and help me convince someone else how angry I am.

I guess I have no problem killing a couple of my exes in Hannibal Lecter style, or even Jeoffry Dahmer style (except, I wouldn't want to make furniture out of them), if I never get caught. Right, I can say these stuff if I am alone, typing. Not always, but can sometimes..

Don't enjoy being angry. My anger always comes back to me in a very fast cycle, lot faster than karma supposedly works. Or, more like, I get dragged into a bad cycle created by other, like a dead leaf in a cyclone. It feels shitty shitty bang bang.

Am not good at telling people that am angry because I usually end up weeping like a beggar in labour for no reason whatsoever and people assume that I am so sad but I just am mad at myself for not keeping my wits and inside I am batting myself, yelling "shut up!"

Apparently I give first impressions like being stuck up, dark and scary one. Interesting observation, since I am one crappy expresser when it comes to feelings. And my old acquaintances seem to think I am this fiery furious temperament person. Puzzling, since I don't recall losing it ever in front of any of them. Cannot express how mad I am, and don't like doing it. Therefore, conclusively, no-one ever seen me truly angry. I simply cannot be honest to anyone about my emo stuff.

 

So I started telling them how mad I am about my life, and in you go I am reaching for Kleenex in a min, which turn their face into all cooing "Oh, you poor thing!". No, no, I don't need that, I am not unhappy, am really x2 OK. I just am really angry, am not sad, just angry, and can't even say so.

Let me try again...

I gaze the haze in the morning, through the wave of traffic,

all I want is for that sun to burst. Just, BURST.

Film 4 Sucks

Film4 sucked forever and always. I can even write a poem about how much I hate Film4 but I won't because it will be too hostile and some people may think I have something personal against channel4, which I so don't.

 

Once upon a time I couldn't afford to get the entire film package from my cable company, and I had to settle for bloody film 4. I had all the premier films channels for a fraction of price in US, and it shocked me to core when I discovered;

 

1. Film4 only run from 6pm

2. Film4 cost EXTRA 6 GBP

3. Film4 only showed about 100 films a month

 

All the selection of films 4 were either absolute crap, or too arty, as in,

"I am tolerating to watch this film because I am posh and intellectual and artistic, not because I understand it."

 

I mean, if you think you are going to put Ar-bloody-Ty films, then put it without voice over, without "oh, so shocking!" pornographic scenes. Films shouldn't be called artistic work just because it has a dick or two in it. I don't give any credit for real or otherwise orgy scenes. Prostitute stories are NOT masterful classic, neither is hand held vid-cams.

 

Even after I abandoned Film4 for a wholesome film package I simply had to go back and pay whipping 7 quid to get weird crappy horror films or really old films nobody wants to see, because I couldn't afford to buy them in discs or tapes especially when I knew I never watch them twice. It pissed me off everytime I found films showed nowhere but in Film4, and it gave me the greatest pleasure when the minimum 1 month was up and I get to call the customer service to lose Film4 from my package.

 

Now Film4 has gone free. Just like TCM did. WHAT A DISASTER. They FINALLY admitted how awful their line-ups were, and how they failed to run a potentially a great film channel and gave in to this TV ad interrupting, Saturday matinee channel. And they are saying they went that way so many other can enjoy their great collections? Say the word, it's the first step to the recovery. YOU WENT

 

BUST.

Shagging Moss

"Affect of Heat" reminds me of Smithy.

He was this super famous doctor in moss world and he looked so old and frail, and always wore bright coloured jumpers which were obviously Christmas presents from his family. He was THE Sphagnum moss guy who dedicated his life to things like micro weather and soil acidity.

This guy, who was a walking library of mosses and ecology, once gave me a glorious 20 for my essay  (out of 100, of course) and wrote down a big fat "rubbish" in red on my paper. This guy, who looked like a shrinking retired post office clerk, got semi volcanic mad when someone decided to advocate the theory of wetland forming which did not agree with his own. It was almost bizarre to see him get excited, because he was so old and calm and a little off at his best, and barely noticeable when he was around.

Smithy's lectures were monotonous and quiet and intensely specialized. I don't remember them much for obvious reasons, but I knew I was so blessed to have him as my lecturer, as he was way past his retirement age and was there once a week only for my class. (And he soon completely retired because his wife became unwell.)

So at the beginning of each lecture I looked at his face and started to really listen to his words. He usually turned to the boards within a minute and started scribbling all these Latin names and author names. So, that precious minute was always height of my concentration before I say hello to my dream land.

One day, Smithy stood at the desk, began very slowly and solemnly,

"Just like people get affected by weather to frequent to sex, weather is a major factor to plants' sex life."

I couldn't sleep after that due to the impact of the comment. It was as shocking as finding Santa having Mrs. I was merely shocked by the fact that he was romanticizing... no, more like kinking up mosses by saying this. It was not even true, what he said. Plants sexual cycle is NOT affected by weather but simply, chemically reacting to temperature and humidity and other things. It's not like blanket bog hears Gershwin in hot summer weather in  lazy heat, and decides to crack open a bubbly and have sex. They only get up when there is enough temperature and moisture.

That confirmed it. Botanists and gardeners are horny people with very actively kinky minds. One way that's worrying as I have been a hard core gardener since very early age. In another way that would be very cool as, if I get to be old like Smithy; clever, knowledgeable and absolutely boring, and still very sexy in brain that's got to be a great life!

Dead Foxy

This Monday was really dreadful on road. It was so hot from early hours, and there were so many road kills everywhere I went. I saw a flopsy bunny, half mashed, its ear standing up in the air. I saw light coming through right there. I saw a couple of hedgehogs laying around like needled balls. And I saw a fox, perfectly preserved in the horror of death.

 

That fox has been there ever since, on M329, on a bridge just before Bracknell. He is there and nobody is doing any further damage, which is ironic as he wasn't lucky enough to dodge the hit when the fatal moment came.

 

He looks like that dog from Scrubs, that's how preserved he is. Every morning I pass there and the sight of him makes me feel so many things. He is really clean for what he is, though I am sure he is missing some body parts which I can't quite confirm. He is so still, even for the dead because no car is running over him any more, and that is making him appear SO REALLY, REALLY dead.

 

I bet whoever killed him actually goes on driving there every day and feeling absolutely liable, day after day.

 

Heat does funny things to people on wheels, and animals around the vehicles. That fox is like a Lorelei to me. It is calling, or calling out. Sorry, mate.

Let Me Entertain You

I like entertaining people. I like to cut my life into pieces and sell them up in order to see people have a laugh. I don't exaggerate my pieces because wouldn't like to lie. I like mixing drinks on my expense and get them wasted. I pick your mood and taste and hopefully I am handing you the right drink. I do this all because I am self centred, self loving, attention seeking, selfish arty pants.

 

People who like to burst into "Story of My Days" in places like pubs and social events are attention whores. I know this, because I exactly am one of them. They tell you funny stories (often blown up to make itself sound more interesting) and say,

"Me being such an arse I did this stupid episode on such and such."

in a hope of entertaining people, as well as for people to counter-praise you, such as,

"Oh, no, you are not an arse and that was very thoughtful of you for doing that."

etc. etc. Basically begging for compliment.

 

I don't do just that, but I do know all this because I use this tactics to feel OKay about myself. I lower myself in my stories and that's how I put up my protective shields around me. Yes I am useless and stupid, am not worthy of your attacks. And also, I do this because I am a creator and creators are whores of some kind.

 

I never like bragging. I did it once, because I did something great and I fucking deserved a nice comment from everyone around me, and my friend told me to stop showing off. Can I not be proud once in 19 yrs? Apparently not.

 

I do indeed like to see people around me having good time on my account. I feel slightly useful and less hated. That's lovely. People don't need hero stories and Samaritan stories which are coming from friends and acquaintances, because people don't really need any story from other people to begin with. I know this because I know people always give benefit of doubt to stories they hear first handedly. It's just wise to do so and is much needed fact of surviving.

 

I sometime hate me for lowering myself in the circle I am in. I sometime feel comfortably invisible. I mostly want to be invisible and numb, till I get absolutely bored and start getting out howling and jamming my horns down into some deep shit like real life stuff. Bad cycle of life, real bad. Guess am bored now. Where is my entertainment?

Attention Shoppers

I went to see footy in a pub in, of all places, London. It was that fatal match when England lost. OK, I won't sing the Harold Shipman song coz I still want to live.

Went there with bunch of work people and it was fun. At the end of the day it doesn't bother me who wins or loses. The last sports  match I really felt being a part was the sports fest from my 4th grade. Sports are exciting and fun, but not worth crying for. For once I would love to see a guy gets as serious with his girl as he does with football.

Anyway, so I went to Leicester Sq. and sat down with bunch of dykes and exchange students and all that. I felt like a Victorian woman appears in one of Agatha Christie novels who is spending a day of shopping in London, before heading back home on train from Paddington and witnesses a murder. In fact, that is how I feel everytime I go to centre to meet up with some people.

After the game I walked to a station with one guy. He was not native Londoner and was dressed nicely. Typical lads enjoying the life in London. He was telling me about his life before London, his ambition for career, and continued,
"But I just wanted to come to London."
Oh, man, oh, dear. Who actually says THAT? You just wanted to come to London? Are you serious?? Are you, like, ten? To you, your life goal is THIS?

People in London act cool. How could people not get tired of it. It's a tough job dressing impeccably 24-7. Not buying any food only makes sense there because people are all thin and you need a lot of money anyway to have all these fashionable gadgets and tickets for shows. It is so much work learning all the trend and ins and outs, wide variety of knowledge in politics and art and science, I can NEVER do it. I mean, I know what native Londoners are like, and they certainly don't do these, eh.

I don't like the idea of living in city. City is dodgy and expensive, and people are so unkind or sneaky. I mean, if you can survive the harsh reality of city life and then the one's life must be very fructuous, but I know I can't even make through a week. Beside, I never agreed to people who think coming to live in capital cities is the best thing you can do in your life. (You can do whatever you want, and be whatever you want to be, wherever you are, provided that you work hard and are determined.) Aside from the people who are just visiting, I never found anything in common with whom so desperately clinging onto their life in city, not because there are lots of things happening there for them but just because they want to be there.

Yeah, N.Y. is cool, but the fact of wanting to come and live there screams that you are from "real" country. Yeah, LA is amazing, but I don't want to starve myself and constantly hate myself just so I can buy a cup of coffee. Well, I guess London is really fun when you know your way around, but with the rent money you pay in a year for that scrappy flat you can buy a farm house and settle down by a riverside. There is nothing wrong about coming to stay in city for a few years, and HEAD BACK to your home town. Experiences are treasure in your life, as long as they wouldn't drag shame and regrets like tails around them.

I am just a shopper in London, and will never find a beauty of everyday life in city. I rather keep it that way and enjoy the bits of the city time to time than get soaked in it. I don't get people who wants to come to city and tell me that I am missing out. I just know what I like and I don't. I don't let people tell me what I like.

 

Oh, and, hell yes I hate Star Bucks. Invasion of the 52nd state.

Cars, the Most, Best and Worst

I think cars have personalities, if not of their drivers. Whenever I come across some car which does certain things, it's always the same car. It is either people who buy such and such cars are similar sort of drivers, or people who drives such and such cars end up being like each other. I want to believe in latter, just like all the people who have poodles end up having poodle hair, and all the people who have Staffy end up looking real trailer-parky.

The most aggressive cars of all;Subaru Impreza

They seem to enjoy showing off their spinning more than anything because they always take over anyone, but never stay ahead of us for long. They go SO fast for 15 sec and run in front of us for another 15, until Merc and BMW steadily build their speed and go forever faster. (Even I go faster after about 50 sec.)

The least skilled cars
Rover 45 and 75 series.
They look like Jags. They actually look like a Great Jaguar when they are passing you. The only differences are, they don't seem to switch lanes well, and they are obviously not used to any road they are on. They are inappropriately slow, they seem to take eternity to speed up to NSP, they stay on wrong lanes,  and they don't take corners well. Jags can cope with ANY roads and look super on them. Rovers probably won't look that bad if they don't look at all like them big cats.

The most unpredictable carsVW Passat and Renaut Laguna.

Personally, I just never want to drive around them, ever. They ALWAYS do weird and freakishly scary things whenever I am behind them doing 70mph on motorways. They act out the exact thing you are thinking like a bad fantacy which you never wish for it to come to the reality,

"OK, so it is quite a steep and long curve so we all better slow down and try not to go over lanes,"
and that's exactly the moment they jump in front of you without indicating. What the heck wrong with them, really?

The super cars, which are just so good you just got to admire them on road.CitroE Xsara Picasso

Oh, my lord, how come you look so dorky and then turn out to be driving SO beautifully. I can NEVER keep up with you. You are SO precise and accurate, fast and swift to the maximum of adequacy. Oh, lord, won't you get me one of their skills.

 

They are lots of overall good cars, like, any 4WD, I NEVER seen them drive badly. I actually never seem them, not even once, with a scratch or dent on them. I thought Vitaras were some poncey cars, but if they can drive that well then they are more like G.I. Joes than John Frieda.

And I generally dislike station wagons. I particularly dislike Peugeot ones. Just a personal experience and opinion. Oh, and off course everyone hates white / blue commercial vans. They should all fall into a sea off a cliff than harassing small hearted people like us on motorways.

 

Well, your opinions are welcome. R and O. 

Come On Out, Wherever You Are

I think I am working with a closet case. That's fine and dandy, one can choose to be in or out, especially in an environment like a work place. What hurts me is that he is "in" with me after me going on and on about me supporting all the gay rights.

 

Years back there was a time when it is not so common to come out, and coming out was a gigantic deal to anyone. You come out only once and you didn't retrieve it, or went back in again. But, because it was a big deal it was exactly the time people wanted everyone to come out. Probably we were trying to make a team effort or something.

 

Then I met T-Ree, who told me strongly that coming-out is not always a good thing to everyone, and it can be an act of selfishness. He then said he would never dream of telling his family because it would crush them badly.

 

Ever since then my opinion of coming out has become quite flexible. You don't do it because it is  a COOL thing to do, and it IS a personal thing to do, and it SHOULD be done with one's own decision.

 

I have always been a fag-hag wannabe. ALWAYS. Am, in one way or more, more of a gay man than many newbies, and am proud of it. Being a part of the society and knowing about it was the first thing I felt natural doing it. I wanted to be born a man, and I still wish I can dress in men's clothes and look good than looking like this. I am your next door gay neighbour you don't get turned on.

 

And gay men hate me for exactly that, or, at least, pay no attention for what I am. Even when I practically say to their face that I majored in gay culture and am there if they need to know the name of the dancer in a 1956 musical film, they seem to take no interest.

 

THIS one closet case ACTUALLY denied that he is gay when I asked him casually, and very indirectly. He then went on criticizing my taste in musicals by quoting what sounded like some bitchy queens. That felt to me like he is dropping King-Cong size hints to annoy me. (His hair look's like Jack McFarland's, he has a cat, he knows all the designer names, he didn't even pause when I said "I like Ian McKee because I kinda collect gay films," he says "spunk", and he took an afternoon off to attend the premier of West End version of Evita.) Fine, fine, so you hate me for my high school sociology paper. So you hate me for my photo projects upon World AIDS Day. You hate me, you really, really hate me.

 

Don't like offending people. But, like I appreciate your choice of life style, it would be nice if you could accept this as mine. We don't even have to interact.

When You Really Like Something

You will like that something for a very long time.

I remember the time I saw Mark Lamarr after 3 long years of not remembering his existence, I was stricken by a lightning, or so it felt very much like. He was on TV, doing Radio2 commercial, WITHOUT the quiff, looking absolutely different, and still took my breath away.
"WHO IS that guy on telly???!!!"
I screamed like I never did for a man in my entire life.

It was somewhat like that with Presidents of the USA. It was like that with D. It was like that with Rimmer. It was like that with you know who.

And, yes, it was definitely like that with RENT.

T-Ree first introduced me to Rent back in '98, I think it was. He told me how amazing it is, trying to describe the story by saying,

"Well, it is about rent."

and went on saying it is based on La Boheme. I distinctly remember thinking how many people do know the story of La Boheme. Two years later I was telling some friend how great Rent is by saying,

"Well, it is based on La Boheme."

Anyway, took me lot more convincing to actually go and see the show. And I finally did it with my folks. (That's how much I wasn't aware of the actual story line.) Half way through the show I fell asleep because I was exhausted from my folks' nagging all that day along.

I think I fell asleep at the Tango scene. I can't remember when I got up, but I do remember that I began crying and couldn't stop.

Rent is cheesy. Rent is slightly out-dated. And Rent is super fab.

I went to see the show again in London, and it was the first and last time I went to see the same show more than once. Mark was played by Joseph McFadden. He was fantastic, and so was everyone else.

I went all the way to N.Y. to see the show. Angel was played by Andy Senor, whom I once saw in London. He was pimping himself out (he posed with you for a photo-op if you paid handsomely) to get donations for a good cause.

I went to see the show again in Baltimore. I remember one guy walking out saying how stupid and terrible that two dykes kissing and a boy dressing in drag.

Rent was finally made into a movie. It took years for it to actually finish the production. During which time the scripts were leaked and directors were changed.

I was waiting and waiting, and heaven knows how many times I listened to the CDs. Rent was the only one of the few things I stood up for when other people showed obvious disagreement with. Numerous people scoffed at me and switched off the CD player. Well, it's your loss, baby.

So, the time has finally came for Rent the Movie. I drove to Riverside and sat down in a small cinema. I had to sit through the god awful Sin City before Rent started. And 5 minutes into Rent a guy stood and left. Just normale.

OK, there were a few things I didn't like in the movie. There were undeniably better bits in movie to the musical. I mouthed along the entire movie. I LOVED it. They did a good job. It was full of love and was for love of Rent. Good sound track. Good scenery setting. Good use of props. I thank the production team for giving me this movie.

I was saying it before thinking how corny it is, and I am saying it again.

The opposite of War is not Peace, it's Creation.

Act Up, Fight Aids.