A gay indie boy living in suburban South West London recounts his trials and tribulations dealing with sex, sexuality, growing up and getting older

Saturday, January 04, 2014

What is real and what isn't

Yesterday I really wanted to do some work but just ended up arseing around and did nothing. I had coffee, played Final Fantasy X and took a nap. Couldn't really motivate myself to get anything done.

The only occasion of note was attending Vera Chok's script reading party, in which I read a small part in a play by Erik Patterson where I was a crystal meth-smoking, casual sex addict. Well cast, ultimately.

The play, which was about gay men hooking up on the internet, had all the usual themes about HIV and small town naïveté. It made me wonder what else the gay voice has to say in 2014.

I went home, had a G&T and went to bed.

Woke up this morning and thought of Vik. Still can't decide whether I did the right thing or not and I have never really wavered on a guy like this before. I have to stick to my guns for his sake though. I try and swallow the sadness. I think what gets me the most is saying goodbye to someone who could have been a real friend and partner.

My fantasies have somehow been impressing themselves harder on me than before. Because if 'close enough' isn't actually 'good enough' for me, then how does one achieve what they have to in this short life?

Plans currently include taking a course in stand up comedy, thinking about whether I should do a postgraduate course in broadcast journalism... What is that thing where you take a chance, jump off the cliff and discover you can fly?

I've always dreamed of being famous and successful, but at 30 - if that's what I want - it's more about being pragmatic and realistic. What am I humanly able to achieve in one life? And can I do it?


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