Bent Dating Mirrors

In high school, while I explored life through the internet, adults were just as eager to meet as peers.  I exchanged emails and messages more with adults, but their eagerness to meet only reinforced my Jodie Dallas induced greatest fears.  Still, though, I quickly accepted an adult’s invitation to meet.  In adult companionship, I saw a greater possibility of the exciting homosexual adventures, like those in Queer as Folk.  I had wanted big city Sex & the City adventures with Mr. Big, who’d take me to theatre and art openings.  And older men had seemed like the best way to experience that.  What I found instead was sneaking off to the backwoods of Upstate New York and trailer parks, where their own inauthenticity funhouse mirrored my own.  They were adults trapped in adolescence, attempting to stay past their prime by hanging with the freshly prime.  I was an adolescent playing adult, attempting to stay out past bedtime by hanging with those without a bedtime.

In college, I turned, again, to the internet to acquire homosexual dynamics.  I focused my attention away from the campus to familiar older gay males, hoping they’d be more worldly and attractive than when I lived at home. I quickly accepted invitations to meet.  Jodie Dallas’ specter faded from the peripheral of my concept of homosexuality.  The big city experiences that I had expected, from Sex & the City and Tales of the City, seemed like a greater possibility.  Instead of a NYC Queer as Folk, I repeated my youth in reverse, by escaping dorms into Yonkers, White Plains, and white suburbs along the New York and Connecticut border.  These ticky-tacky suburbs reflected like funhouse mirrors my suburban attempts at escape because now I was seeing behind the neighbors’ curtains, and I didn’t like it.  The men that I hung movie and TV inspired fantasies on, whom I went home with, would close their curtains, citing their need for privacy.

As experiences grew my perceptions, I came to see “privacy” as a bent mirror to my rejection of the homosexual label.

Back on the college campus, relationships were fleeting but sex was not. Sexual encounters were often furious and fleeting, held in others’ dorm rooms while their roommates were away, or secluded areas within lecture halls late/early mornings.  Despite my sexual escapades during this time I continued to rebel from any identity label, that I had no history with.  I was unable to break the cycle that had resulted from middle and high school’s habit of isolating in my room.  The relationship that I had dreamt of, had hoped for during the college experience, eluded me.  I was good enough for a lay, but not to spend time with.

In post-undergrad and grad-school, I doctored acceptable variations of myself, believing my exposed self would not be good enough.  My authenticity was deferred to others to avoid insult and derision.  Receding behind partners’ goals I built up their hopes, while exploring how to play with the truth, creating narcissistic chaos that ultimately resulted in implosion.

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Entering Two Worlds

Adult homosexuals from the internet were just as eager to meet as peers I interacted more with adults, but their eagerness to meet only reinforced my Jodie Dallas induced greatest fears of being queer.  Still, though, I more quickly accepted an adult’s invitation to meet than a peers’.  In adult companionship, I saw a greater possibility of the exciting homosexual adventures, like those in Queer as Folk; their adventures seemed like the safe juvenile antics I should be participating in.  I had wanted big city Sex & the City adventures with Mr. Big, who’d take me to theatre and art openings.  What I found instead was sneaking off to the backwoods of Upstate New York and trailer parks, where their own inauthenticity funhouse mirrored my own.  They were adults trapped in adolescence, attempting to stay past their prime by hanging with the freshly prime.  I was an adolescent playing adult, attempting to stay out past bedtime by hanging with those without a bedtime.  The very nature of my game necessitated duplicity as I navigated the two worlds that I had begun inhabiting, as I tried on various masks and identities.

The Season

I have never been a fan of the holiday season.  I love the holidays individually, but instead of being filled with cheer and joy in equal measure around me, I am filled with a deep consistence question of my value; a sense that at any moment everything will be discovered to be unearned.  A person becomes convinced that they have a pathetic unique ineptitude for life.  There is a screaming hyper awareness of flaws and errors.

I’m sorry I’m not taller

I’m sorry I’m not kinder

I’m sorry I’m secretly needy

I’m sorry I want to do it all

I’m sorry I don’t know how to share

I’m sorry that I don’t know how to slow down

When the gears shift it is never subtle, but is more akin to slamming on the breaks.  The opposite measure is less distracting because its immediate effects are the endorphins of shopping, great mood, and all around good-time making. Great stuff that gets outwardly rewarded by friends and coworkers, which mask the negative effects of spending sprees, inability to concentrate, or inflated self-esteem.

This does not come around once a year from November through January, but is a year-round cycle that only becomes heightened by The Season.  The Holiday Season itself comprises these two extremes on a national level.  There are those that shout proudly that they are grinches, and there are those that indulge in The Season beginning October 28.  Frenzied energy produced by the baking, obligatory parties, and shopping, fuels the self-destructive thinking and hopelessness.  I stay home, with hot chocolate and marshmallows, with Netflix, and quietly wait until after February.

A Ghastly Maze

A Ghastly MazeThe Basilia Phalanstère was located at 1016 Madison Ave, Central Business District, in Sidume, of Pentapolis of the Valley.  It is six floors high, with a basement to make seven; and worth $32 million with taxes at about $80,000, for 93,300 square feet with elevators.  The building had been zoned for commercial and residential usage.  From outside the building looked elegant and stately, a large stone and brick home amidst the concrete of Sidume and its buildings.  To Brian McCloud it looked like something that belonged closer to the opulence of Biell than so near the economic center of The Valley.

Blithedale built the mansion in 1862, at the foot of the ultramarine Acadian Mountains, a sprawling granite structure; the land had been bought in the early 1850s.  Throughout time The Basilia was reconstructed and remodeled primarily in 1865 thru 1914, to include four fort-like towers shooting out from its sides and amongst the steel skyscrapers, like octopus tentacles around glass fish.  It contains 35 apartments, 9 studios, 9 duplex penthouses, museum, business, and dining facilities; and can house up to 1620 people at any given moment.  The building’s main door was large steel arches, framed by a single stone arch that read, “O to che vieni doloroso.”

The structure was composed of three major parts: a central part and two lateral wings.  The central wing houses libraries, offices, meeting rooms, studies, and a ballroom.  The left wing is for labor and noisy activities, such as carpentry or food preparation; as well as dorms for Erotes.  The right wing is where most member penthouses were.  The basement housed some of the organization’s more monetarily expensive acquisitions.

The 1914 Green-Space Initiative preserved its unique architecture, for more modernity’s sake. With the mass production of the automobile, increasing traffic, demolition of historic buildings, commercial encroachment into historic neighborhoods, and the loss of open space led to the beginning of grass roots preservation efforts. Almost immediately residents, business people, and government officials worked cooperatively to preserve, enhance, and revitalize the eastern side of Wuthering Canal; they successfully restored numerous village buildings, the establishment of a historic preservation district.  Interiors and features were as modern as could be afforded.

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