It's been a While...

since I've stayed up this late reading a book. It's also been a while since I've recalled a conversation with near photographic accuracy. I'll start with the books.

A few days ago, after that work project ended, I felt left without much to do. I had drinks with the coworkers from that project and she basically summed it up when she said, "How are you supposed to go from 80MPH to 0MPH in a freakin' instant?"

She was right. But I was being bothered by something else too. I was going away to a new school in an incredible city... and for the first time, I would be truly out. I would finally have the chance to build a gay network. The chance to truly build friendships with folks like me who knew me for who I was from the getgo. No more dealing with friends who weren't compatible with my typical gay tendencies because that wasn't for what they had signed up.

I had a brief IM conversation with Sharky one day and she said--"Yeah, you can't waste your opportunity when you get there to make the most of it. Don't get gun shy on me." She's so sweet and tough loving all at the same time. I realized in that moment. I can prepare now. I can figure out what parts of me are still uncomfortable with being gay. Where my 'game' and / or social skills are lacking, and take on perfecting them here in my current city where I would soon be a long gone memory.

But how? I don't have that many gay friends. Moreover my current gay friends usually have some big crazy difference in life. They're waaaay older than me.... interested in digging for gold and not into real relationships.... etc. etc. So I did what I did the first time I realized I couldn't rely on luck to push me towards the knowledge I needed. I raided the book stores.

Oh what a joy. OH WHAT A JOY!

A Sekret Edjge, Boi Kulture, and the Gr8 Kawk Hunt have been keeping me awake this entire week. I've written them out phonetically because I now know that a few of my friends have been wanting to find my blog and I have been ranting about how great these books are for a while now. And yes, they have admitted to googling for terms they suspect I would use when writing. For this reason, the names I give my characters here are all impossible to google... hehe.

Anyway, on to the books. A Sekret Edje is freakin' fantastic. It's the coming out story of a 16 year old who's a track runner, a hottie, a nerd, a loner, and the only remnant of a his nuclear family. He reminded me sooo much of myself back in high school. Though my family didn't die when I was a kid, soon after high school, I was the only person in my family who spoke to everybody... in many ways I felt like the survivor.

The kid goes from hating the fact that he has wet dreams with boys, to falling for a gorgeous Indian teammate, to overhearing his adoptive father confess feeling like a failure as a father because his adoptive son (who is also his nephew) has turned out gay.


Best of all, just as the main character is starting to come to terms with his sexuality, a fairly hot member of the 'popular' group starts to take an interest in him. While the interest is romantic and puts our hero on Cloud 9, he is cruelly made aware that among the 'in' crowd, he can't be 'out.' He can have access to their world and even their men, but only behind the facade of pretense. Our little hero faces these and many other obstacles with incredible courage, bravery, integrity, and with a few mistakes a long the way, ends up on top. I loved this book.

The Gr8t Kockhunt is everything you might have expected from my favorite blogger. He is essentially the 'out' and more daring version of me in college. Where I only went so far as to flirt with all the frat presidents and gorgeous star athletes... where I only acknowledged some of their crushes from afar, Alex, the main character in the book and blog, went all the way with them and has thrived publicly enough to write about it. He's brought back memories especially of my Billy Budd, the gorgeous BOMC who sported a crazy crush on me my last year at school, and whom I regret not having properly escorted through the labyrinth of hetero-to-homo sexuality. I'll post about him later.


Best of all, Alex gets waaay more real in his book than he ever did in his blog regarding the love of his life, and how it all fucken fell apart. He's a player and a heartbreaker who tells his readers how and why he became that way. Though his book is essentially verbal porn, I got the gist of why he barricades his emotional self with sex, and why, after having tasted real love, he refuses to ever, EVER, settle. Yep... just like me. Am I, like he, doomed to use sex to assuage the forever open wound of a lost love? Will there ever be another like that "One"? The book left me so impacted that I phoned Most Gorgeous One. We shot the shit for a few minutes. Then, I ran out of things to say. I paused, and reflected on our brief conversation. His fiance was hosting two friends for the weekend. Suddenly, I realized what it was that I heard in his voice, and so I asked, "You sound tired. Is everything alright?"

He got defensive. I heard and felt it. "Yea, I'm alright," he said. "I should get back to being a host. Thanks for calling though. I'll call you when things slow down and we can talk more then."

"Sounds good," I said, "It was good talking to you. Bye."

Alex also talks about how he met his BFF, his fag hag. She's just like Beff, and just like Beff, Alex's fag hag betrayed him by sleeping with his most intense straight-guy crush. What emerges is a sense of jealousy on all those involved. I'll have to write about this soon here y'all cuz this same str8 crush-friend of mine is coming to town. Yep, he's visiting, and we've been talking. Last I remember him--he's devestatingly beautiful... and brilliant. If my blog had a side-kick incarnation, he would be it. With the help of Landmark magic, I apologized to him... for the craziness but mostly for the falsity of not being 'out' to him until all the damage had been done. He said he wanted to be friends again. Said that he did love me. I reciprocated. He's still straight, and perhaps he'll still find my body worth the trouble of enacting elaborate deception. He's the only one who's come closest to fooling me, and the only one I allowed to believe that he had fooled me. But I'm not a fool. No matter what the case, I know we aren't right for each other, no matter how much fun it would've been.

Lastly, the best of all these books was Boi Kulture. It is the original blog. The original confession. The original tell all sex tale about a broken heart, a genius misunderstood mind that hides behind the tease and the meaningless sex. Beyond all of this--the language is delicious and hysterical. I literally laughed outloud for like 45 minutes straight as I finished the book.

I won't go into this book. It's just too much. I found not only myself in it, but also PB, Porno Boi. I finally got how go-go boys and others in similar line of work---mostly the more extreme 'other' types--can have a near impossible time attempting to have meaningful romantic relationships. More than anything, this book captures... no NAILS... the gay psyche, its motive, and its downfall. This book has changed my life. I'll never see sex the same way.

As if all of this were to somehow precipitate my own drama... I've joined a new gym. It's a major upgrade. Anybody who's anybody works out at this new place. It's not strictly gay. According to the word in the lockerroom its 80% gay 20% not-gay. It's great. Best of all, the bois are young and impossibly gorgeous. I feel like shit when I walk in there during certain times. Tall, ripped, and blessed with outrageously beautiful features, these peers of mine are--I can honestly write--the best of the best. Yep, I'm no longer the 'hottie' of the gym. That's for damn sure. I can only aspire here to be among the 'hotties' now. I prefer this situation. It keeps me lean and ambitious, and mos importantly, it prepares me for what lies ahead for me this coming Fall. Also, it keeps egos in check. You might be the 'hottie', until the next impossibly gorgeous guy makes his sashaying entrance.

Yet despite these realities, there is one guy.... One guy... who still has the gall and the earned right to flaunt his ego. If there were to be a 'hottie' chosen at my new gym, it would likely be Him. He's so flawless from head to toe, that I swear he's man-made. Lean, impossibly prorportioned (for the vast majority of him anyway), and with an incredible face, he tears his way across the gym floor everyday with his disciple in tow. His disciple, who is his equal facially, doesn't really hold a candle to Hottie's body. For a week straight Hottie ignored me, and got a kick out knowing that I was staring..... in disbelief... and in awesome lust. But I couldn't approach him.... his disciple was mean and possessive. He gave me mean looks. Still, I could tell, he wasn't a boyfriend.


To top off the week, Hottie came around to me this past weekend, got in my face as I finished a set, and demanding-ly asked when I would be done with the machine. I was stunned.... stunned by the size and articulation of the orbs that were his eyes. As if his jutting and chiseled features weren't enough to make me cum with envy, his eyes were oh soooo luminous and large. They were gorgeous, even when hey were angry at me, for responding, "I'm doing a circuit... but you can work in if you like." He hissed and without a word turned quickly away and went off with his disciple following his wake.

Today, I was in a corner of the gym. Feeling happy to be me, when suddenly appeared out of no where and began curling right next to me. I was floored but played it off as best I could. He did a couple more sets as I ignored him before he got hissy and pissy and left--suddenly and quickly. I noticed he was sans the lackey. Hmm.... I figured he must have been done with his workout.

Later in my workout, he appears again. Working out next to me. I switch exercises, and as it turns out he's supersetting. Near me again... Well, it's worth a try. I look.... no stare really... and as he turns to pace past me, he sees me looking at him, and immediately whips his face away from mine..... but not fast enough for me to miss the smile he was attempting to hide. Bingo... I'm in... I'm allowed to talk to him.

One of his exercises was odd. He was doing he equivalent of wind sprints, except he was tied to a cable pulley machine. WTF? I thought. He only has room for at most 5 steps. What the hell is he doing?

So I asked--is that for your legs or for your speed?

He was stunned that I was talking to him. I love this reaction honestly, and usually I would savor it except for the fact that I was to busy reminding myself to talk as the full beauty of his visage focused on me. Gawd he was gorgeous. His eyes I thought were blue... but now I could clearly see were a transparent hazel green. His eyes brows were intense, and his skin flawless... Wow.... and then I realized, we were actually the same height. He just seemed so much taller because of his incredible proportions. When he finally spoke, he said..."Well, it's for both really."


"Oh, cool," I smiled, trying to mask my envy with innocence. "Are you a sprinter?"

His chest fell, and he sighed... as if I had said the wrong thing. He looked at me with a slight touch of dismalness, and said, "No."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw this somewhat older guy staring directly at us flashing an enormous shit-eating grin. He was unabashed in his voyeurism.

"But," Hottie continued, "I hike and rock climb a lot."

"Oh cool," I sounded like a fucken broken record. Goddam it. But I was really just grateful that I remembered how to talk. Right as I was turning away, I turned back, and said, "I'm Tino, what's your name?" Shit, I guess I'll have to bring up the rock climbing later. Damn it!

"Geoff," he said still in his slight dismissal way. He looked troubled. Where was his disciple? Why was he troubled? He looked as gorgeous as every. Each muscle trippling in size whenever he engaged it.

"Nice to meet you," I said courteously and smiled. We shook hands, and in a breathy tone, he mimicked back, "Nice to meet you." He said it through a sigh, and perhaps he looked disappointed somehow. I turned away as if someone had spared me my dick, and resumed my sets. I couldn't believe it. I had survived talking to the Hottie. Pathetic I know, but a start.

In other news, 1L is coming up for the long weekend. He's bringing plans, quite a hotel package, and more plans for the trip. We're just friends, but he's bent on changing my mind. We had a long conversation tonight about this issue. I've been clear and honest with him. But he still proclaims his desire for me. His language is still as moving as ever. His words have become like arrows, and he like a hunter. He's trying to wear me down.... Using my emotions and my soul against me... But I'll never be fake... I'll never say I feel something I don't.

PB texted me, and asked if I wanted to hang out for the 4th of July as well. I turned him down tentatively. Though 1L is not my boyfriend, he is one of my best friends, and I will not fuck him over by having him watch me be flirted up by PB. Bro's before ho's.