Jya na

I plan to put aside this blog for a short while from today.

Last night, I went to a banquet for the seniors who are graduating this May to receive an award for being Best Lab TA. I really enjoyed my time hanging out with the students and I made some great friends last night.

I didn't think this blog was going to become what it is today when I began writing. For me, this blog has eventually turned out to be a vivid expression of my innermost feelings, and has carried me through a great deal. Throughout the course, I have met many friends online who cared and understood, and I am really happy for it. I will continue visiting your blogs to keep in touch with all of you.

I am now ready to embark on the next step in my life. I want to channel my energies to the real life that I'm leading, to the many people around me I love and care about, to all the great friends that I've met and will meet, to the dreams that I dare to dream. I see the people who matter to me, strong and brave for themselves and for the people around them, and I want to be courageous for myself and for them, together with them.

The bright sunshine that's beckoning me to step out of the warm bed from beneath the soft, smooth sheets, I'm finally ready to meet it.

A Song

There was a man,
His name was Dan,
Eyes twinkling, broadest smile, smiling
At me, his beautiful face, beaming
Happy.

Your beautiful eyes twinkling,
You smile the widest sweetest smile,
I see your sexy body,
Oh I wanna touch and feel your body,
I know you love the touch.

I hear your heart beating,
The beautiful heart beating away,
On this clear moonlit night,
I see you relaxed, carefree, bright,
Oh I realize everything's oh so nice.

I see your heart bleeding,
Tell me who it is,
I'll never, ever let you feel the pain again,
I'll kiss your wound with the gentlest kiss,
Soothe it with the sweetest song,
Mend it, tend it, let the green grass grow.

Grow,
Under the sunshine,
The sunshine I see on your beautiful face,
The sunshine I feel when I hang out with you,
The endless fun and laughter you provide me,
The warmth and joy you feel, I feel, we feel together,
It's so sweet, nothing else matters.

I can see it,
Under the warm sunshine that bathes you,
Under the bright city lights that shine,
Your beautiful face, your glittering eyes, your sweet smile,
Beaming across the sidewalks,
Of Atlanta, Austin, LA, San Francisco,
Making them glow, making men grow.

Oh I feel so happy,
Seeing you so happy tonight.
I really enjoyed myself this moonlit night,
I feel so sexy,
Because I see you so sexy.

I feel so sexy right now,
I'm going to take off my clothes,
Strip down to my underwear,
Right in front of you,
On this sidewalk (fuck the cops),
And dance a little jig,
Shake my little butt,
Make you happy, make you laugh.

Together we can dance to a few more delightful tunes,
Shaking our little butts together,
Enjoying this crazy carefree moment that we're together,
Ohhh!
Dance the little jig,
Shake our butts,
Laugh along,
Out on this sidewalk under the moon and the stars,
Beautiful warm night,
We have so much fun when we're together,
All those funny things we tell each other,
I want to hang out with you together,
It's cool to be friends happy forever.

Hey guys, I wrote this song that was singing in my heart this bright sunlit morning, he likes my fine little butt, I love shaking it for him, so we can shake our butts together have some happy times!

I've understood all along, it's my heart that I willingly, stupidly gave away, he never wanted it, he likes me as a friend and for my tight, round ass, probably that's it. But all the same, I feel happy being with him, because he's a great guy, hopefully shaking our butts together, having fun and forgetting our worries always. Takes some time for me to accept things the way they are, you know?

Fuck! I need to get back to having a sunny disposition

I used to be a pretty cheerful guy. Don't know what happened to me. Maybe I grew up too quickly one side of me, now the other side's trying to catch up.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I need to swear so bad right now to get it out of my system. Forgive me. I want to go back to being fun-loving. It's all fucking shit crap. Nobody's gonna like a moody guy. ~~~Urrrghhh!!!~~~ I wanna yell out loud, I wanna be lovely again!!!

Oh Shit!

It just fucking occurred to me... if you read the post about Dan below, and by some really horrible twist of fate, you know Dan, PLEASE don't tell him!

Shucks I should just go take it off...

There was a man whose name was Dan

Wednesday, Apr 26: I have chosen to rehabilitate this post that I deleted yesterday, after having first put it up two days ago. If you're a certain Dan, though I know you're most probably not, please first read the post above entitled "you have to do what's right". Dan: I know you will understand why I've put this up once again. The only way to begin a new life is to leave the old one behind, just like you and I are doing at this point in our lives. As if I haven't said it enough, I want you to know that I meant every word I said to you today. I'm looking forward to a life full of joy with you as a great friend.

I feel it's finally time that I gave Ned his real name back. Ever since I began writing about him on this blog, from the recount of the night we first met, the attraction, the connection, the promises, the excitement and insecurity I felt, to the second time, the words that came out wrong, my thoughts, my feelings, the third time and the realization, I've been hiding him behind a false name.

It wasn't entirely a fabrication, the name. It's uncanny but I seem to be able to recall vividly every small detail of all that happened between us, how it was when we exchanged phone numbers in his black truck before we parted the second day those months ago. I remember him playing around with the three letters in his name, NAD, NAD, NAD, and so the name, it never went away.

I don't think I have ever been so attracted to a guy at first sight, or felt so strongly that, with him, I'll live happily ever after. Oddly, it didn't take very long for me to find out. His eyes, his smile, his voice, the way he behaved. I could see the other Dan beneath the witty, funny guy on the exterior, the boy and the man with interests and dreams that resonated with mine. Together we spoke six languages and had a love for culture and travel. His dream was to apply his language skills in his career, mine was to eventually put aside the engineering work I'm doing, go back to studying more languages and to one day work in a non-profit organization.

He'd been here seven years. Too long, he kept saying. I knew nothing could hold him back, 25, eager to leave this depressing state of Indiana, to explore the world, to start a new life. Yet I knew, when we were talking about all the places in the world, when he asked me when we were going to visit the place I grew up, I said I'd take him there someday, he asked me really, and I said yes, I meant it and for that second he knew I meant it. I knew, when he told me he'd been to England, Ireland, France, Belgium, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Italy, Greece and Turkey, and I asked him if he'd show me all these places, he said yes, I asked really, and he nodded, I knew for that second, he really meant it and he knew I knew.

And so I knew that when he asked me if we wanted to hang out again soon, he really meant it for that second when he asked. But we both knew that he was leaving, beginning a new life far away, and when it comes my turn to leave, I wouldn't know where my job would take me. We both wanted it, but didn't know how much each other wanted it, couldn't tell each other how much we wanted it, and were afraid to want it. I'm happy, I now know it was possible between us, just that knowledge is enough for me to go on -- I'm so happy that there are tears in my eyes right now.

I don't know if I really want him to call. For the last two days, I've been checking my phone so often I've lost count of the number of times I've looked away in disappointment. I tell myself, whatever he does, if he's happy, I'm happy. I promise him in my heart, I wouldn't make things difficult for him when he leaves. I remind myself, that there's no other time than now to be selfless with one's feelings. But when it's time for him to finally leave, I don't know if I would really be able to handle it. He belongs elsewhere, in a big city far away, to somebody else out there.

Today, I couldn't hold myself back from driving by his place on my way home. He lives in the upstairs of a house on a cheerless street, which somehow looked fine to me just a few days ago. The window to the living room was open, and his dog was out on the low roof across the front of the house, laying there languid with her head resting quietly on the tiles, a beautiful border collie with long, soft, black and white fur. I suddenly remember that he and I both love dogs, and that we were talking about taking her out canoeing and swimming in the river. As I went by, there was a loud rumble from a vehicle behind me, and she turned her head immediately to look, all of a sudden coming alive. I wondered then, does she wait faithfully for her master every day at this time of the evening, out on the roof just wishing for him to return, coming alive at the rumble of a truck?

I've never been one to believe in astrology until he mentioned he was a Gemini. Gemini the twins, the sign of the storyteller, the communicator. Talented in speech, bright, witty, charming, and spontaneous, the artist, the writer, the interpreter. And I was a Libra. Libra the scales, the sign of the diplomat and the ditherer. Romantic, idealistic, refined, easy-going, charming and in love with love. Gemini the twins, of dual personalities, restless, fickle. Libra the scales, changeable, dreamy, frivolous. Do you know what they say in the books about the relationship between a Gemini and a Libra? Sublime.

A human face

What is it like to blog? Many lives, many more reasons, and perhaps more than just a few commonalities.

"But in parallel with this grim experience, there is a separate writing life in the blog, revealing her inner-life, giving her a voice as Wandering Scribe - a process which has allowed her to reach out from her parked car to a global audience."

"It's often powerfully written, giving a human face to anonymous suffering, talking about her childhood, her sense of rejection and her struggle to regain her confidence and self-respect."

"There is also a close-up view of the daily struggle of homelessness - the fears of sleeping in her car, her small victories in keeping warm, how she cleans her hair in hospital showers and gets discount food in staff canteens."

"This blog has produced its own regular readership - people who e-mail when its author doesn't post the next instalment. And she says that the blog has become an attempt to "keep me sane, and in a way to start to reach out". "

"The blog's anonymity is also part of this modern tale. As with any such online journal, there's an ambiguity about its origin. One can't see the author, or even know her real name."

"There have been e-mails questioning whether this blog is a media "project", rather than a genuine account of homelessness - a charge she wearily rejects."

"In her blog this weekend, she wrote: "Some people see you struggling and want your complete downfall, living in my car is not bad enough, they want me on the streets completely, in every sense. I feel that.""

Check out the full article at the BBC website.

You're killing me softly

I know I can't fight the tide. The fatalistic in me has even prepared his parting speech.

But I wonder, will you give us both a chance?

I want to let you know that whatever you do, if you're happy, I'm happy. And I promise I won't make things difficult for you when you leave.

Bad grammAr is kinda cute... bad spelling too!

For Ryan & Mike, happy Sunday!

Flowers for Algernon

Looking back, I don't think I'll have any regrets.

It was shorter than I thought it'd be. Perhaps he wasn't sure how it'd work out, how much he wanted to be with me, or maybe he didn't want it at all. We went to Ayres to pick out a shirt and pants for a conference I'm attending in Tucson next week. He always had great dress sense. I tried on this sassy-looking shirt with alternating dark stripes that fit really well. He liked it. I liked it. After that I tried on this pair of charcoal pants that went totally well with the shirt. I liked them. He liked them. I took him to Barnes and Noble. I showed him the travel guide full of pictures of the place where I grew up. He liked it a lot. I was happy he liked it. I asked him to show me the place where he grew up. It wasn't particularly interesting, but I felt very happy he shared it with me.

The first night we met, we plunged right into sex and never really knew each other. Today, we talked a lot more than we ever did. We talked about our plans for the future, what we liked. I wasn't wrong about him at all. We do indeed have common interests, common dreams. Not often, a connection.

At the end of it, he asked me if I wanted to hang out again soon. I'm really happy he asked. I am clear of the fact that in this really bizarre circumstance of a false-start to something between us that could be happening, I've been and will continue to be the one shouldering much more of the emotional burden -- completely aware of my feelings yet totally uncertain as to whether I'm but a cameo appearance to him. But whereas I might have been naive before, I know what it really takes now. I don't want to make the same mistakes again. I know he knows how I feel, so I have to do my best not to place any burden upon him. We both understand that because of our individual situations, we have to be extra careful where we tread. Because of the short time that we can possibly have together, I have to be truly selfless for us to live the joy of it, and for neither of us to get hurt at the end of it. I don't know what's going to happen, or if he's really going to call, but I'm glad he's trying.

Sweet Boys

Rob's interview on best gay blogs (Apr 20) is so sexy. I must say, I am partial towards French guys, irrationally so.

Did you make it to the milky way

I'm all braced for tomorrow. I've exhausted all scenarios and been through all sorts of feelings the last few days. Now I'm ready and over it.

I just want to enjoy my time with Ned tomorrow, that's all I ask for.

Oh yeah, my new Speedos arrived today!

I'm fifteen for a moment

Deux

These are great photographs, if you can tell me whose works they are. At least some of them are by Howard Roffman. Black and whites are so erotic.

Tell me did you sail across the sun

It's Thursday and I'm going crazy already. What the hell is happening to me? I think of him going to bed, when I'm half awake in the morning the thoughts so surge in my mind I can't stop my heart from racing. I think about him fixing breakfast, in the shower, on the way to school, in class, at work, after school, dinnertime, before going to bed.

There's hardly anybody I can tell without them staring at me pitifully. Saturday for those hours it will be pure heaven, Sunday I'll be in utter ruin. He's leaving, he's leaving, he'll only be taking your heart away and never coming back with it. And I let myself into this insanity, this surrealism, because I just want to see him, to hear his voice, to talk to him, and be near him.

I tell myself, be cool, be cool, be real, just enjoy the times, but how the hell do I do that? I have to bottle these feelings up, for I can't let him know, because surely he can sense it already. I feel so unreal right now.

My newest blog buddy

Phoenix, at arising anew is my newest blog buddy. Can you guess where he lives and goes to school? Fuck yeah, West Lafayette and Purdue! The shot above you see of the beautiful white streaks in the purple sky, I took from my car while waiting for the light to turn driving home at dusk (8:35!) today. That's for you, P.



To Sue: You were asking about the flowers last week. I'm proud to report that I have absolutely no clue what they are, except they smell like what my fuck buddy's ass would smell like. Some dude whinged about the smell in the campus newspaper last Spring (yeah they write about crap here), apparently he didn't know anything about asses. If you can tell what kind of flowers they are from the close-up, that's wonderful. Btw, just barely two weeks and the flowers are mostly withered now, the shot of the same row of trees was taken last week.

Finally a shot of springtime sunbathing for memories sake, also taken last week. School is out in a week and seems like everyone's partying and sunbathing even more this week than last. I probably should go take some more pics early Friday afternoon, the high point of sunbathing. Oh yeah some frat houses set up crazy water slides and such playthings for their merriment, I just need a real good vantage point. I betcha the entire student body would be out on the lawns next week. Too bad they wall the grass in concrete here too much. I miss California!

Tell me did you fall for a shooting star

Sometimes I think life is a little too crazy.

Saturday I'll be seeing Ned. It's likely that this will be the last time I'll ever see him. I don't know if it'd be better for me to try to forget him from today, though I know I wouldn't be able to. I don't think I'll ever find out the real reason why I sent him the note. Was it because I want the best for him, and that I didn't want to regret someday not saying the things I should have said?

There's no doubt I feel immensely happy whenever I'm with him. I'm unable to resist the desire to feel that happiness again, however shortlived it will be. I'll have to try my hardest to forget all these feelings I'm having today, and just enjoy every moment, for the moment, with Ned when we meet. I've willingly put myself on the line knowing I may once again relive the hell I lived.

Drops of Jupiter

It wasn't so long ago to the night that Ned and I met. I can still recall vividly the moment he walked in to our table at the pub, how for that whole time we were there my gaze never left him. How, as I learned more and more about the person he was, the more and more I felt he was a guy who completed me.

It isn't often that physical attraction and emotional connection interlock with effortlessness. Rare that the same attraction and connection was felt on both ends.

It wasn't possible between Ned and I. He was coming out of a relationship and was ready to leave. The day everything came crashing down.

I sent Ned an e-mail recently. I needed to tell him what I had to before he left. He replied, suggesting we hang out. I felt myself sucked into the web once again. I was utterly powerless to say no. In my mind, I asked myself over and over again: What good will seeing him do? I was only putting myself on the line for more pain. Yet I found myself helpless, helpless in stemming the tidal wave of my emotions, of my desire to see him again, a desire I was afraid would only lead to sorrow.

Some bloggers live

Just wanted to put on record the existence of some really amusing bloggers. There's u got gay, which I mentioned in passing several weeks ago. And there's someone in a tree, who's been on my list for some time. He just introduced me to joel derfner, aka faustus MD, hilarious dude. All three are wonderfully talented in their language. Oh yeah, how could I have missed out spencer. Do you know he's actually got three blogs??? Lord, go check them out!

Someone Else's Life

Decided tonight to bring browsing through Dan's blogroll to a close, I discovered yet another blog that left me misty-eyed. Ethan's Shades of Gray, loads of relationship/fuck/hottie stories, all told in his crisp, penetrating style. (Jeez, is he hot and doesn't he get all the hot boys... and his blog is popular too... but that's not really the point). It's really good writing that makes great reading, but his tone is so subtly fatalistic, I left feeling detached and unreal.

Afterword: Ethan's stories on Seth, "Zach" and himself, truly compelling.

For the Hot Boys of the Pool

I've always had a soft spot for swimmers and I'll always have. There's just something about their broad shoulders, smooth muscles and perfect curves that does it for me. If you take a look back at my very first post, you'll also see this hot, wet dude who's staring back at you above. He's actually a varsity swimmer in my school, and a very good one too.


Then there's this other swimmer with such a god-cocking awesome body and a cute face to boot. I saw him a few times at the pool and just today, outside the lecture hall, in his air force uniform (yeah, lotsa "patriotic" dudes here in America's heartland). There're probably many other great(er) bodies at the co-rec (recreational sports facility) everyday, but when you know he's a school swimmer, he becomes automatically drop-dead gorgeous.


So I thought I should erect (no pun intended) a shrine for these boys of the pool right here. Why shouldn't I? They're just so hot, I can't get enough of them. Gawd! The most gdf beautiful head-turners in the world.


Just look at his body.

Speedo and Calvin Klein Fiesta

Two things turn me on phenomenal these days, Speedos and Calvin Klein. I'll try to dig up as many great-looking swim and brief boys as I can and post them in the coming days.

Spring and the Boys are Out

Last Friday, I was being a naughty boy. The weather was so great, I was driving by some frat houses, I saw the boys out playing volleyball or just having a great time chilling, I got so turned on that I went back to grab my camera for some shots. But the weather suddenly turned and I only had time to snap a few before it started raining. Also there comes a limit before the boys get really awkward and pissed that some gay guy's taking candid shots of them, you know.

So here are some for everyone. It's just fun seeing boys enjoying themselves, sitting on the porch, checking out chicks jogging by.




And on Saturday in glorious sunshine, though it was kinda cold for Spring, beautiful April flowers lining a brick-red building on campus, couldn't resist the shot.

"Every human being should have their story told"

A well-written article in commemoration of the 61st anniversary of the liberation of Bergen-Belsen.

Palm Sunday

This is primarily a gay blog but I just thought this picture was cool. (San Lorenzo church, Cordoba, Spain)

I was also thinking I've grown out of the Abercrombie & Fitch "phase" but apparently not entirely. The wallpaper below is really unique in its treehouse setting and the variety in posture.

Shifting Sands

This picture is a contribution from Kurt in Munich, Germany.

Sometimes a few memories of mine that have been consigned to the deeper recesses are dug up by visiting Jared's blog. If you recall, Jared wrote about some of his growing-up memories recently. Just a minute ago, I was reading his post about the e-mails he has gotten from younger guys seeking advice on their struggles with the repression they feel having to conceal their sexuality.

Once in a while, memories of things buried years ago flood back all of a sudden. Today I was just thinking about the house on Ensenada that I lived in with 4 good friends in my senior year. I remember taking shots of the facade, with the beautiful blue flowers that bloom for a few weeks in early April, but I've forgotten where I've placed those pictures. I also remember the times we had, like they all happened just yesterday. I remember staying up really late to watch Japan-Korea 2002. I remember the fantastic roast chicken I made (recipe by the NAKED chef) which set off the smoke detectors. And I remember when my roommate busted her car stereo after driving her bright blue Beetle down the ocean road and playing "soak up the sun" for 14 continuous hours.

I remember the time when I myself was struggling with my sexuality, when I wasn't sure if I was gay. The years I spent clinging on to the straight life because I thought it was going to be easier, when I lived in fear of being found out.

Looking back -- though it's so hard to really know for sure now -- I think I didn't come out because I was afraid my mom would be terribly saddened. My dad and mom never had a great relationship with each other. My mom's happiness always seemed to hinge on her kids because she loved us so much. So for many years, even though I wanted to be completely honest with her, I couldn't. I spent those years escaping, hiding, concealing, pretending, and trying to get away as much as I could. I decided one day that it was all wrong; denial wasn't the life I wanted to lead.

Now I know that I worried for nothing. My mom never expected me to be anything I wasn't, she only wanted me to be happy and healthy. And I know that coming out to her is the best decision I've taken in my life, because the relationship I have with mom has never been this great.

Our Earth

I'm still in the closet when it comes to being an environmentalist but there's something that you and I can do to help just by being in front of the computer.

Go to this BBC (I love the BBC) site and be a part of the largest climate change experiment ever. You can lend your hand in saving the earth.

Nippy

It looks like it isn't just me who's totally turned on by this boy's tits. Or his abs or the cleavage between his nice round pecs with a trace of furry hair coursing through it. I don't know who he is, does anyone? His pics were posted on a forum, the poster claiming they were an "exclusive" on the site!

Brenton's blog has got a nice write-up about open vs. exclusive relationships (Apr 4). It's nice to hear someone else believe in monogamy. It's not that I don't see the reasons behind open relationships, or am I entirely opposed to one. I'm not able to divide my love between two (or more) men, or to completely separate sex with other guys from love if I'm in love with a man. But I also agree with the men who have blazed the path in front of me that monogamy is something to work towards and not something to expect as a matter of course.

Towleroad

Towleroad has always been one of my favorite blogs. There's nothing like his when it comes to sheer insight and information. It's like The Economist, only a million times better, and always fluently written and heartwarming to read.

Where the bluebirds sing and there's a whiskey spring

Picture from zeledi

Watched Brokeback Saturday night with two girlfriends. Came home and opened Annie Proulx's book, laying on the bed.

"Try this one," said Jack, "and I'll say it just one time. Tell you what, we could a had a good life together, a fuckin real good life. You wouldn't do it, Ennis, so what we got now is Brokeback Mountain. Everything built on that. It's all we got, boy, fuckin all, so I hope you know that if you don't never know the rest. Count the damn few times we been together in twenty years. Measure the fuckin short leash you keep me on, then ask me about Mexico and then tell me you'll kill me for needin it and not hardly never gettin it. You got no fuckin idea how bad it gets. I'm not you. I can't make it on a couple a high-altitude fucks once or twice a year. You're too much for me, Ennis, you son of a whoreson bitch. I wish I knew how to quit you."

******

Check out Brokeback the movie's official site. Click on "Share Your Story", and read the hundreds and hundreds of personal stories of guys and girls alike who have been moved by the film and the story.