I just want you to know that I understand your suffering. And I know it because I’ve lived it. And maybe what you experience is different than what I experienced growing up, I know that no matter what, we’ve shared moments of pain and confusion about who we are as gay individuals and how we fit into society. I want you to know you’re not alone; that others, including myself, have felt the isolation that you might feel, and that together were both unlucky and lucky to live in the historical circumstances of this day and age. Respect and rights for lgbt men, women and trans individuals have never been more in the spotlight, but were still only on the way to a future where our nature is recognized and accepted as a normal facet of modern culture. We’re lucky and unlucky to live in this “now”, because while it’s better for us than it has been in the past, it’s not quite as comfortable as it clearly will be in the future. So be righteous and remember that you’re playing a part in history, making strides, even unknowingly so that lgbt people in the future will be born into a global culture that never once questions their value or rights.
As a gay dude, it’s always the most inconvenient hassle to deal with guys who assume every guy is straight. Its not their intention to single me out; in fact what they’re trying to do in talking about girls is to bond, and I appreciate that sentiment, but thus arises a circumstance that those of us who are comfortable with our sexuality can’t let slide. It’s not a huge problem but it is something that comes up a lot and I’m always forced to decide how to handle it. Years into my experience of being “out” I don’t mind bringing to light the fact that I’m gay but in every circumstance, because I’m dealing with people, it feels like an art to somehow break the news to them that their assumptions of my “straightness” are misplaced. I never just say “I’m gay”; I always find a way to do it that is a little bit subtler. Nonetheless it’s an annoyance and life would be much easier if the fluidity of sexual orientation were more prevalent in people’s consciousnesses.
New word: blingposh
Do you love it?
The American fortress, I mean embassy, in Singapore.
The sixth sheik’s sixth sheep’s sick.
Apparently juice box whiskey is a thing here in India.
Anonymous asked: Ooh! As a Singaporean, I have to tell you that you can't leave without trying roti prata, char kway teow, kaya toast, and laksa. (And other stuff... those are just my favorites.) And that you should eat 95% of your meals at hawker centres. Or 99%.
Yes yes! As you suggest, then!
Beginning the journey to Singapore tomorrow!
Anonymous asked: Is failing really that bad? I have an important milestone today in my learning, and I feel like I will fail because I am not prepared. I do not have everything to show my learning, and, knowing my director, he will likely not let me pass. I am worried that my anxiety has put too much emotional weight to this event that it is prohibiting me from looking at this failure as a learning experience due to failure previously been associated with a negative experience for myself.
From the sound of your post it’s clear that you know that failure is not bad and that it can be a learning experience. What I hear from you is that you’re looking for someone to tell you it’s alright. And it is! Failure is a stepping stone. So take that for what it is, but what I really hear in your post is that you don’t have confidence in your own feelings and sensibilities!
Trust yourself! You know yourself best. Your instincts will guide you if you let them, and there in that rich experience of independence you’ll do the most rewarding learning.
Day again, again. But this time the earth lifts me no more in the spin
of its airy splendor. The shift of winds and the slow wave of sounds,
easily definable by their animal incoherence, are memories carved
away by the naked distance. The buzzing creatures, the cukooing purr
of branch bound fliers: pinpricks of light on the periphery. I’ve
climbed the bouldered pass and have stumbled, fallen even, once again into the cradled arms of the civilized. The catalyzed. The cauterized.
Cement walls and stairs, hawking whisperers with their pitches, tables
and chairs, the ordlerly entry of service staff. People valuing you,
not — no! far be it from: unconditionally. A person in the eyes of people is a blind generality, a set of indeterminable potentials and
possible values. I am a billfold in the trained grip of the refined.
And they are cawing and crowing to peck me apart hunting for seeds.
Hungry little vultures swooping. I am nothing but a scavenge to be
had, and when my time is up, left to decompose or drift. Ashes
scattered by the passing of a crowd. Nothing but nothing. Haroo! Hold
tight. It’s a shit-ship we’re rolling in.