Normativity

Disclaimer: gay rant ahead.

Lately I've been seeing, both in the media and in examples in my own life, of the ways in which homosexuals, and homosexuality, seem to be characterised as overtly sexual beings. As in, because we identify with a certain sexual minority, our lives must surely revolve around sex; having as much as possible, with as many different people as possible, simply because we can.

As though being gay is almost synonymous with promiscuity.

And sure, there are a lot of examples as to why this reasoning might be justified. Anyone who knows about the iPhone phenomenon of Grindr will know that this modern age has made finding 'fun' so much easier. In my opinion, it's almost too easy, taking - for want of a better word - the 'fun' out of it.

People seem to follow this train of thought:

- Men always want sex --> Gay men want sex with other men --> Gay men are constantly having sex with each other because they both want it, all the time.

Again, I can't deny this is sometimes the case. Keyword: sometimes.

I will admit (and I wouldn't be the first) that sex is fun. But promiscuity is certainly not something that defines homosexuality.

In much the same way, promiscuity is not something that escapes heterosexuality.

The point that I am slowly coming to is that, in the endless debate of 'gay marriage' (which I am actually not discussing in this blog), some queer parties have been accused of "subscribing to hetero-normative ways of life" in an attempt to gain approval.

Um, what?

Since when has monogamy been the exclusive domain of the straight couple?

I don't want to be straight; I just want to have the ability to have a loving, exclusive relationship with a man and, should I choose to do so, not be accused of being a sell out to hetero-normativity.

We joke about a female being 'a gay man trapped in a woman's body'; why can't we just accept the fact she's a highly promiscuous woman and be done with it?

I'm not saying gay people don't have lots of sex. I'm not saying they do either... well maybe I am, but it's not only gay people.

I know there are fundamental differences between the culture of sexualities.

What annoys me is that so many people fail to see some of the fundamental similarities.

To me, wanting a loving, monogamous relationship doesn't make me 'straight'.

It makes me human.

"Sure, in a lot of ways, I am just like you. I wanna be happy, I want some security, a little extra money in my pocket, but in many ways, my life is nothing like yours. Why should it be? Do we all have to have the same lives to have the same rights? I thought that diversity was what this country was all about. In the gay community, we have drag queens, leather daddies, trannies, and couples with children - every colour of the rainbow. My mother's standing way in the back with some friends. My friends. She once told me that people are like snowflakes; every one special and unique... and in the morning you have to shovel 'em off the driveway. But being different is what makes us all the same. It's what makes us family." - Michael Novotny, Queer As Folk

Temporary

I've often thought of change as a vicious, merciless entity that walks among us, forever subjecting us to its undeniable effects.

Usually I see it as a beast, something that charges in and, for the most part, wreaks havoc and destruction in my life.

I used to make peace with this and justify that logic by saying that when one door closes, another one opens, and that karma will come around and reward you for being patient.

I also get through it by knowing that no change is permanent; those changes will change, and the cycle will continue.

But what of those times when Change throws you a bone, and throws a random, positive twist in your life?

Of course, you don't sit around thinking 'why me?' in such cases, and philosophies over the possible meanings of what is happening.

You just go out and enjoy what you've been given.

Well, most people would, at least...

But my theory on change being a temporary thing, always shifting every which way, has turned upon me in the event of something good actually happening.

Suddenly I find myself nervous that my volatile and temperamental existence is just going to keep shifting, keep changing, and that newly found happiness will change and morph into something else, like water rolling off a ducks back.

Potentially, it could get better; however, optimism and I aren't really on the best of terms right now (hence this chronic anxiety-blogging)

But I've always been hopeful.

Sure, it's optimisms desperate cousin, but it's better than nothing.

So here's hoping change slows down a little, and let's me enjoy the hand it's dealt me.

"and please don't tell me that I'm dreaming,

when all I ever wanted was to dream another sunset with you" - Mayday Parade

Truth

As a collective, I think we're afraid of the truth.

There's something about total honesty that just seems so brutal that to most people it's unbearable.

How many times have you ever caught yourself saying: "I'd rather not know" ?

So many of us choose to live in ignorance, due to the presupposition that it equals bliss.

But how can you happily live in a world knowing that what you know isn't really knowledge; that it's just a lie, a big fucking fake?

Worse than the people who wilfully accept falsity over truth, are the people who consciously project these lies from their very person.

We all have a self-conception that we unsuccessfully fill, but most of us try to, to an extent, 'be ourselves'.

But I've had the misfortune of knowing quite a few people who actively lie and cheat as though it were normal.

I've come to the conclusion that my subconscious is punishing me by making me attracted to men who are complete and utter, for want of a better word, douche bags.

They are scum. They seem to be genuine people, and they're only doing whatever they're doing for their own enjoyment. You're just a plaything in their mind games.

I used to think I was a good judge of character.

I've since been advised by someone wiser that, in reality, you cannot judge someone's character at all. Or at least, not when you first meet.

First impression are probably the most unreliable thing to dissect in order to make judgements. That's because there are the scum that make up a majority of my dating history who can easily project onto the world what they want you to think they are, what they want the world to see.

In reality, they're just so much worse. And it all comes from the plain and simple truth that so many of us are afraid of... well, the truth.

"I'm a gentleman and you're a liar

I'll expect the best of you, but it's so hard" - A Day To Remember

Justice

I don't know if anyone would ever describe me as a 'friendly' person.

At my best, I can be a bit of a socialite, making small talk with lots of people and getting to know everyone. Networking; getting contacts; whatever you want to call it.

Yet in my darker moments I can also be quite the introvert, and would be happier alone in the corner with my headphones in my ears.

First impressions can be pretty misleading with people like me, because until you actually get to know me, you wouldn't really know the full extent of my personality.

Recently back at university, political philosophy has been wreaking havoc on my mind and my conscience.

I used to think that I was a person who believed in justice; that all men got what was coming to them. In my eyes, karma was an all-powerful, omnipresent vehicle of justice.

But lately I've come to realise that perhaps 'justice' isn't quite as synonymous with 'retribution' or 'revenge' as I would have liked to believe.

Is handing out punishment to ones enemies really the definition of a 'just' man?

Maybe the vengeful streak I possess in the name of love and honesty isn't as justified as I previously thought, if it involves hurting someone else, no matter how deserving of their punishment I might consider them.

It's also rather conflicting with my religious views and the Wiccan Rede; is there really any situation where causing harm is justified?

These questions of justice and the ethics of revenge were spawned from an earlier question I asked myself: am I really a nice, or 'friendly', person?

Like anyone, I have my own idiosyncratic personality flaws, but for the most part I have a strong moral fibre, and I tend to treat others how I'd like to be treated (there are notable exceptions to this rule but by my standards I consider them justified).

Even if I don't particularly warm to someone, I try to treat them with due human civility, even if it's a little on the cold side.

What scares me is that once upon a time, the non-reciprocation of these actions would have bothered me.

These days, I'm just too tired to care.

Maybe 'friends' are over-rated, or maybe I've just always had a skewed definition of the word.

Sooner or later, people who don't want to be in your life will leave; kicking and screaming, or silently slinking off into the darkness.

Either way, take some solace in that you'll never go unnoticed.

"There's a danger in starting a fire; you'll never how many bridges you'll burn" - A Day To Remember

Change

This life is full of changes. Some of them good, some of them bad, most of them inevitable.

They say that the first year after high school is one of them most exciting, unpredictable, turmoil filled times of your life.

And they're weren't wrong.

Most high school sweethearts break up within that first year. Hell, my Summer fling couldn't even survive the transition to university.

No matter how you loved all your friends at school, you'll never see them as frequently as you used to, and the relationships suffer. In this day and age, there are dozens of 'I haven't seen you in ages, let's catch up!' Facebook comments, but they're hardly ever acted upon.

It's the sad truth that people just grow apart: both emotionally and physically. By the end of this week, the two people I consider my best friends will be living on other continents.

It's due to circumstances beyond their control, and I don't doubt that the strength of our friendship will remain intact even over thousands of miles and several time zones.

But it's a reality that I have to face: my life will go on without them.

I've fallen in love, and I've had my heart broken.

I've soared to brand new heights, and I've sunk to all time lows.

But I've picked myself up off the floor each and every time.

I don't want to take any of these changes for granted, because as terrifying as they are, there's nothing more a fear more than a life of stagnancy and discontent.

I've met some incredible people and done some crazy things, and who knows what the future has in store?

Maybe one day we'll all meet up, and it will be like nothing has changed at all.

Maybe we won't even recognise each other when we walk past each other on the street.

I honestly can't say I hope for either scenario.

I don't want to cling to the past because I'm scared of the future, but I don't want to create a whole new life where my past never mattered at all.

One thing I know for sure is that broken hearts don't last forever.

And I think I'm ready to love again.

But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

"when all you wanted was to be wanted,

wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now" - Taylor Swift

Laughter

Today on my commute home, several things happened:

- A man stood up on the train, and hit his head an the slanting roof. I was unable to repress my snorts of laughter.

- As I was walking up the stairs at the station, which were crowded with passengers getting off, a man was pushing his way through the people, angrily abusing everyone for being in the way and causing him to miss his train. Such colourful language among a sea of boring suits inspired me to giggle just a little.

- Crossing the road, I saw a boy drop his chewing gum in the bin, and turn around and walk promptly into a telegraph pole. He wasn't too hurt, but when he saw that I'd seen, he gave a sheepish, embarrassed smile and hurried away. I actually laughed out loud.

While this might seem like I'm being a horrible person, laughing at everyone else's misfortune. But the more I thought about it, I felt noticeably happier after witnessing these small calamities.

Sure, those people weren't having a great day, but for once I felt like I was thoroughly enjoying my train trip home.

And it got me thinking: is there really anything wrong with finding amusement in other people's minor misfortunes or accidents?

[I say minor, because there are obviously some large scale tragedies that shouldn't be funny on any level.]

There is an entire TV show dedicated to video clips if people doing stupid things and getting themselves hurt.

And the intention of that TV show is to make people laugh!

The lesson I've learnt, and the message I'm trying to get across here, is that no matter how shitty a day you might be having, your miserable experiences might be giving someone else a little bit of joy.

It may be at your personal expense, but you're giving back to the world, in a sense, aren't you?

I'm sure one day you'll laugh at someone else tripping over on the footpath, or running like a spastic to catch a bus that they've obviously already missed.

There, on that day, you will feel a little happier.

And so the karmic cycle continues.

Magic

As I come to the end of my first semester at university, I find myself a little at odds with the one scientific unit that I studied.

Though many people would have you believe that psychology is a borderline pseudo-science, there was a subject within the course that heavily stresses the importance of empirical evidence, and only really accepting things as fact when there is grounded, testable, falsifiable (yet still correct) proof.

Which is all very true: you wouldn't find me living exclusively off herbal remedies, or visiting a homeopath over my doctor.

But the blind denial that some of these scientists have is simply frightening.

I've realised I'm not a very scientific person.

The whole 'if science can't prove it then it doesn't exist' outlook just doesn't sit well with my world outlook.

There are some fanatics in the world who have committed some amazing atrocities through blind faith, and in the name of religion, and it's given the scientific community a bit of an ego, in my opinion.

I very much value the research and knowledge we have today, but the cold, factual view of our world such knowledge has given us can be quite disillusioning at the best of times.

There's no more mysticism, no more unexplainable.

People don't 'believe' anymore: they simply 'know'.

I have my own beliefs though, about things that exist in our world, which we will never be able to explain.

Science would tell me I am illogical, and that there is a rational explanation for everything I believe. But sometimes, I don't think I really want to know. As someone once said to me recently, "What's wrong with living in a little bit of ignorance? It helps me sleep better at night."

The miracle of life itself is explained away by evolution and biology.

Now, I'm certainly not denying evolution.

But I'm not so opposed to the idea that maybe it didn't completely happen by chance: the idea that somewhere out there is a force more empirical than science itself.

You may think me a fool for having faith in my magic, but the way I see it, I have the best of both world: faith in knowledge, and knowledge of faith.

"You think that it's not magic that keeps you alive? Just because you understand the mechanics of how something works, doesn't make it any less of a miracle; which is just another word for magic. We're all kept alive by magic." - Bill Compton, True Blood