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Friday, 29 June 2018

Lost to love and lust




I was listening to a pop song, yes a pop song for all those who look down on the top 40! Music has always soothed me and you know what Selena Gomez, back to you played and I listened... I had just got back from a trip from Prague where I met up with a boy I was dating. Long story short he was interesting, intriguing, artistic and intense. The intensity scared me yet also pulled me in! He could read me and understand me in ways I hadn’t been before, but we fell apart. The energy he used to give faltered and we were both fighting battles that we couldn’t fight together so it went cold. Cold in the sense we never communicated but I still had a soft spot kept warm for him. 

Gong to see him was a beautiful ceremony, we fought to align our energy and finally when we did it was soft and soothing, a goodbye to who we were and a hello to who we’ve become. 

On coming back home I felt lonely as fuck, cleansed but missing something the guy I was dating wasn’t hitting me up with energy he was before, emotionally cold or just simply couldn’t handle the goodbye I had to say in Prague. So this week I’ve been a shell, feeling lonely and lost, trying to understand who I am and what I’m becoming, learning from love and lust. 

My friend is fighting his own battles similar but different to mine and here’s what I had to say, when he thought he wasted five years being lost to someone he loved deeply: 

No waste as you did you, even if you were shy or scared it’s something... you didn’t stay still imprisoned in London, you lived even if ghosts cling to you and rode with with you... love as life is weird, this yearning to give, to feel, to want, to hold, to share... it fuels my frustrations at the state our community is in... hook ups, drug abuse, alcoholism -! Are we lonely? Or confused, we’re still misfits, there’s still shame. 

Either way we shouldn’t disrespect our ex- lovers beacuse they loved who we were for all their faults and for all our flaws.. they too were fighting to be, and we both know becoming isn’t easy its a fight to live and learn and understand. They give us lessons... if you were socially awkward with him or in that time you pushed through and became something other than what he knew.., isn’t that the most amazing fuk you? When L said I’ll never get a job? What happened... these boys bite back with all they can try but break ups usually mean you’ve both outgrown each other and if you haven’t then the other has to learn to grow and that’s what you did. 


This is probably my most honest post ever but you know what I have to put myself out there xx 

Thursday, 31 May 2018

All wounds hurt when pressed.


In recent days I’ve had two unpleasant experiences. Usually, I can shake these off and push it to the side, cancel it out and calm down. But I’m getting tired of doing that, pretending that each insult isn’t like being lashed with a whip, leaving scars. 



 I’ve been called a faggot, while with my friend in Gesundbrunnen, walking from his place to the station by a group of Turkish lads. Then three days after, looked at angrily while said person glaring at me spits on the ground, evidently disgusted in something or another. Now, in this case, I didn’t know if it was my race or sexuality that caused discomfort/anger or maybe both? In any case, these incidents highlight that there’s still so much hatred in our cities streets, hidden under banners of liberalism and open arms slogans. 

It’s been easy to rise above this and brush off the verbal attacks, happy that they remain just that. Yet in any Case, they still unsettle me. They awaken this fear, the same fear that makes me shy away from holding my dates' hand or going for a kiss in public. Then there’s the shame the same shame that existed in the younger me, wondering was it ok to be this way, be attracted to who I was attracted to and love who I love - men. 

I was attacked once before in London, on New Year’s Day. My friends and I were on our way to a party and ended up being heckled, verbally and then physically abused. I ended up with a deep cut to my eyebrow while my friend had several teeth knocked out, all because we were gay.  


It’s sad that society still harbours such hatred for people different from themselves. And even sadder that most verbal and some physical cases go unreported, meaning the perpetrators are free to continue their reign of terror with no repercussions. The best thing is to not pretend that we’re past discrimination, it exists in people in alarming numbers.

I want to go to the next-level the next time this happens and report it, I don’t know the laws and rules in Germany but I know that in Britain, such malicious crap can go down as a hate crime. Either way, I’ll do my research and find out how to do so, as silence is no longer an option. 


Friday, 6 April 2018

The Price of Poverty.


It’s no secret that I’ve been poor. My money has always gone on my passions rather than my desires. As a designer, any spare change went on materials, as a publisher extra cash went into production and as a brand manager a lot of money went on the commute to work. 

Being poor is something you can think of and fear but not really know the feeling until it hits. Poverty is mean, it causes you to think and feel down, every breath seems to cost money. Sometimes all you can do is hope for depression as at least in those dark moments, you cease to need the fuel of food - with hunger eliminated as a side effect. In the process dark moods end up saving you money on a day or twos meals, without having to suffer hunger pain. 

You think you can calculate the costs of the meager money you have, but it’s just not that easy, 
Things happen that can’t be accounted for. Take for example flatmates inviting you to dinner and your pride not allowing you to say no. At dinner you cut corners but still end up spending €10, afterward you end up annoyed, knowing that it could have gone on a week worth of food and not just one dinner. Either way, you shrug and try not to feel guilty. Other times it’s your friends who buy you drinks at bars, even though you insist they don’t and after three rounds on them, you scramble to the bar to at least buy one round, even though you know that it will hurt your pockets in the long run. 

The main pain of poverty for those newly imprisoned is the loss of freedom. If you’ve lost a job you suddenly inherit life’s most precious asset - time. But now you have time but no money. Instantly you’re robbed of being able to do what others do/ what you did before. You can no longer go where you like, eat what you want or buy the little luxuries/ bare necessities which you did before. Everything is considered, measured and debated. If you spend here can you thrift there? It’s mentally exhausting to think so much and physically draining to eat so little. 

Friday, 30 March 2018

On fitting in/ having clubbing anxiety.



So I like to dance, but I’ll admit it and hold my hands up and say I’m not the best dancer but I like to move, groove and lose myself to the music. The issue here though is that dancing means going out and going out has its issues. 


One of the main problems for me is that the gay establishments, I usually frequent don’t really have the sort of men that I’m attracted too (not to sound bigheaded). I find it really hard to find the right vibe that fits me. If someone is too handsome I’ll be intimidated, cursing everyone including myself for feeling inadequate, beneath them, not right. If they’re not my type but persist on trying to get my attention or in some cases pester and not get the hint it can sometimes ruin the night. It may sound stupid but sometimes when someone is constantly watching you it can feel unnerving and you can’t fully let go. Luckily sometimes the stars do align, with good music, cheap drinks, my type of guys and a nice buzz. It’s always great when the men aren’t  stiff, unapproachable or shallow. When they laugh, dance and look good, yet don’t think they’re gods. It allows nights that I can belong to, lose myself to the music and for my mood to soar, but these moments are rare. 

Wednesday, 10 January 2018

Intimate doesn’t mean intimacy




For it’s a heavy breath to take to know that what you breathe in is pure and out toxic.Life is the journey but when you start to feel comfortable and confident time takes something away...


I struggle with being gay and it’s not the being gay that’s the issue, loving men plays no part in my despair it’s the men/ the man that seems to destroy me. In my lived experience I haven’t been fortunate  enough to receive a love I feel deeply, a guy I want badly and a relationship that’s healthy. I love men I just haven’t loved a man.



I crumble more and more inside with every high and horny message I get I feel more numb, more reduced, more nothingness, my optimism at finding something and someone special is diluted, I try blank it out but I can’t as I want something so bad that it’s frustrating that this is all I get and all I’ve had is boys who know nothing and have no self.... I’m hardened with snarky responses to most things, when others see wonder I detract from their moment, this is like some heavy veil I can’t lift and I’m numb getting even more so with each passing day. 




I’ve been on dates recently but I don’t feel the burn, I don’t see the brightness, I don’t feel the warmth. That easy ebb and flow, that pulls you towards another and makes you want to get to know all you can, to try and understand someone other than yourself. It’s all just something with Someone but it’s not the one. 




I find getting intimate is easy but intimacy is hard, I wonder do we have an issue with building pure and strong bonds?  In sustaining a committed, loving & nurturing relationship?  or is it simply in the game of like, lust and love I’m just no good at it? 





I’m losing my senses and in the process losing myself, I’m becoming something and someone that might just hate everything, feeling robbed of something I’ve always wanted... As just because I’m gay does it mean I have to struggle to find a lover, have a family and build a home, will it always be quick kisses, lewd messages and this sad lonely feeling?