Sleep

I don't remember the last night I had a decent sleep.

Hell, I'd be surprised if you could find anything that resembles a decent sleeping pattern in the last month of my life.

I wish it could be solved as easily as a more comfy pillow or an extra blanket, but I'd be kidding myself if I thought the source of my insomnia was purely physical.

Having said that, waking up with a hangover 3 of 5 week nights probably attests to why I am consistently sporting the tired eyes of 'stoner chic'.

Maybe because half the nights of the week I'm not sleeping in my own bed, or because I stumble into bed at 3 or 4 in the morning, home from doing... well you probably don't want to know.

I've definitely given a different meaning to the phrase 'getting to bed early' - they never specified AM or PM, right?

The physicality is one thing, but psychologically it's draining.

I'm tired, but getting up and going to bed seems like such an effort.

So I'm awake, either at my computer or drunk between someone else's sheets, until I can't really fight the supposedly reasonable conceptions of society, and the results health sciences, on what is considered an appropriate amount of sleep.

That last sentence was a bit of a jumble, but hey, maybe it proves my point?

If it was one or two nights, or God forbid I was doing something worthwhile with the waking hours, maybe it wouldn't be such an issue.

But I think when it gets to the point where you go to bed at 11:30pm, but your body clock isn't used to crashing until 4am, that you may have a problem.

I'm a train wreck, out of control.

There's no slowing down, so it looks like I'm powering on until I crash.

"if I could trade mistakes for sheep

count me away before you sleep" - Panic! At The Disco

Esteem

If we're going to be totally honest, I can be pretty arrogant sometimes.

Not outwardly, of course. To the public eye I can usually dull it down to a subtle sheen of confidence.

So what changed?

Why do I suddenly feel so inadequate?

I used to spruce myself up before every night out.

I'd do my hair, wink to the mirror and think 'Damn boy, you're looking fine tonight'.

Maybe it was the lighting, maybe it was the comparative sobriety, or maybe it was just me waking up to smell the roses.

But I hated the way I looked.

I wanted to hide, to change, to destroy all evidence.

Where I once let it all hang out, keeping no secrets, I was suddenly ashamed.

Every past compliment simply meant nothing. I could feel guys watching me, but instead of feeling attractive, I felt ugly, like some freak they were all judging.

I used to think how weak anyone with a body image issue would be, to succumb so easily to the outside world pressures.

I guess I just kept my own insecurities from myself.

"LA told me 'You'll be a pop star:

all you have to change is everything you are

tired of being compared to damn Britney Spears

she's so pretty - that just ain't me" - P!nk

Similarity

They always say that opposites attract.

Right now, I'm not so sure that I'd agree.

I've somehow only just realised that there's one consistent problem that I've had with every boyfriend, every relationship, every fling, every single attempt at romance, no matter how mighty or mere.

How it escaped me before is beyond me, but it's finally been brought to my attention that I've had next to nothing in common with them.

Because no, being gay doesn't count.

Yes, all gay men (or at least out ones) have similar experiences of coming out, no matter how heart-warming or tragic their variations may be. You can exchange stories and pretend you're really connecting, but it pains me to realise I've had these kinds of chats with strangers on the internet as easily as I've had them with my lovers.

Then there's those typical gay stereotypes: partying, drinks and drugs, Ke$Ha, etc.

I used to joke that a love for Lady Gaga was mandatory in any perspective partner.

And while it makes for a fun night out, and can be enough to bond over with close friends, it's not exactly a unique connection of any kind that could lay down the strong foundations of any sort of successful relationship.

I've never dated a musician. I've never dated someone who had a particularly or especially proactive view on politics or gay rights issues (which is kind of hard to believe, no?). I've never dated someone quite so interested in spirituality and mysticism. I've never dated anyone who really shared any of the passions I have in my life, who I really and truly had something in common with.

I've dated cynical, atheistic med students, amazingly-built health-freak/gym-junkies, party-boy hairdressers-turned-bankers, allergy-ridden liars, even a MECO student with a passion for Twilight fan fiction (who's ambition to be a 'lady of leisure' was probably the closest thing in common I had with any of them; the inherent nature of which rendered us quite incompatible).

Most of them have been lovely guys, gorgeous people who instantly captured me with their personalities.

I'd like to think that I did the same with them, but in the end, the spark dies.

We brought the bricks, but are we collectively lacking the mortar that holds us all together?

The flame petters out, and I'm left with a hollow, burnt-out shell of what was shaping up to be my happy ending.

I've been hit with the 'it's not you, it's me' line more than I'd care to admit, but in most cases I'd like to believe that their reasoning was perfectly legitimate.

But maybe, in the larger scheme of things... perhaps it is me?

I know I fall hard and fast, and sometimes I think I fall in love with the idea of a person more than what they actually are.

And then I just get disappointed when they don't see me the way I see them.

Or that I just don't see them the way they really are.

"so go on and think about whatever you need to think about,

go on and dream about whatever you need to dream about,

and come back to me when you know just how you feel." - Why, Avril Lavigne

Decisions

I hate to admit I'm a terribly indecisive person.

I can never seem to decide upon a place to eat on the first date, or which movie to rent from the store.

So you can imagine how much I must hate the actually important life decisions, right?

Because the worst part about the big decisions is that you're never really going to know if you made the right choice.

If he turns out to be allergic to seafood or lactose intolerant, or if you feel as though you wasted 2 hours of your life and would rather have stared at the wall, it's pretty obvious that you made a mistake.

And so what of it? You'll probably just take it in your stride, learn from it, and not make that same poor decision twice.

But the important, long-term decisions, they tend to affect your life in countless more ways.

And in the end, you're in the future, and when you look around you and realise what a fuck up it's become, all you can do it ask yourself "What if..?"

I can't necessarily blame my poverty or unemployment on a Bachelor of Arts, but I might look back and think, "Would I be in this position if I studied Law?"

But my gripe is that some decisions seem right.

Are there always alternatives? If not taking the right decisions automatically taking the wrong one?

Is inaction really so bad?

Sometimes you don't really know, and though I've always been an excited advocate for change, first-hand experience has taught me there are some heart-breaking changes that could and should be easily avoided.

Is it wrong to make a pre-emptive decision?

In essence, choose to not make a decision because you'd rather not figure out which one really is the right way.

Life seems to take control, and carry me forward. But sometimes it also seems to get in the way.

Pre-planned change, all rehearsed and orchestrated, somehow takes the back-seat to the unexpected, the unforeseen.

Or maybe I just can't practice what I preach.

A subtle, unconscious masochistic streak has allowed me to get far too comfortable in the rut.

Or, God forbid, maybe I'm just not ready.

"when mystery fades we identify the problems, but they may not be problems after all"

- On Love, On Life, Bayside

Infidelity

Think back to 'Affirmation' by Savage Garden.

As a child growing up in the closet, one of the lyrics that I used to find comfort in was 'I believe you can't control or choose your sexuality'.

Of course, now that's something that a lot of us accept, possibly even take for granted. Haters will hate and say that we chose to lead this despicable lifestyle, but the people who count know that it's just not so.

But lately I've been noticing, studying, and agonising over another particular line in the song: 'I believe that trust is more important than monogamy'.

There are two reasons why this sentiment strikes a chord somewhere within me:

The first is that, for whatever reason, the gay scene and community tends to be characterised with a stereotype of horny promiscuity, being unable to 'keep it in your pants', and thus a lot of infidelity and experiences of intimacy (depending on your definition of the word) outside of any initial relationship.

Now, I'm not as delusional as to think that only gay people cheat on each other. There are plenty of lying scumbags from all genders and sexualities.

However, I've noticed that not all of these situations are a malicious or foolish act of infidelity.

In homosexuals, I've seen a peculiar prevalence to 'open relationships', people who are in a recognised and (arguably) committed relationship, but who are not reprimanded should they have any kind of affairs with someone else.

There's a line between a second relationship and a casual hook-up on the side, but when I've questioned people in these circumstances, it came down to a simple "I just don't believe in monogamy anymore."

And maybe that's not so implausible. Very few species on this Earth actually find one partner and mate with them for life.

We're all human, and sometimes mistakes do happen. Wouldn't we all be better off in accepting that, and being honest to our partners, and being able to move on from it.

I always thought Miranda was such a fool in the Sex and the City movie for leaving Steve, after he had the courage to admit to her a one-time mistake that was eating him up inside, obviously due to the love he still felt for her.

I'd rather know that if my partner hooked up with someone else, they would tell me upfront about it, instead of blindly having faith that they would always remain faithful, no matter what.

And maybe that will change one day, but for now it still seems to me that trust really is more important than monogamy.

The second reason is more a personal reflection than a community affiliation.

I have been in the situation where a partner was unfaithful. However, I never found out until after the relationship ended, on considerably good terms.

But the fact that I found out through someone else, the fact he never had the guts to man up and be honest with me, the fact he went to so many lengths to cover it up and tell so many lies - it destroyed our remaining friendship, temporarily destroyed my sanity, and brought me ever so close to destroying him.

I don't like to dwell on what if's, but deep down I can't help but wonder if things might have been different between us if he had just told me from the start.

But that belief came back around to haunt me, when I unfortunately found the tables had turned, and was in a position I swore to myself I'd never be in.

Laying all technicalities and bullshit aside, I really liked one person, but ended up getting with another person.

In that occurrence, I learnt that getting with a second person doesn't always change the way you feel about the first.

And so I practiced what I preach. I confessed, I told the truth.

The results were favourable. Maybe because we are gay, we are more open-minded to that kind of situation, or maybe I just found someone truly understanding, who saw my intentions beyond a little slip-up.

Regardless, I know that whatever happens, I have no secret to bare, nothing weighing me down that I need to get off my chest.

Never, ever would I use this reasoning to consider cheating to be totally acceptable, in any circumstance. I guess sometimes it's just not as bad as a lot of people think it is.

But this series of events has led me to believe that trust really is more important than monogamy.

"he kissed my lips, I taste your mouth

he pulled me in, I was disgusted with myself" - Thinking of You, Katy Perry

Journey

So as the year rolls around to a close, I thought it fitting to end the year with a reflective blog on my life and year in general.

I've made plenty of new friends, lost a couple too, had lots of firsts, and hopefully a few lasts, kissed too many boys, drank too much alcohol, had dozens of other amazing experiences and still managed to hold onto a high credit average.

My initial idea for this post was that it would be about the 'end': the end of a year, the end of a saga, the end of a journey.

But then when I think about it, this is so far from the end.

If this year has taught me anything, it's that things never stay the same, never stay how you expect them to, for very long at all.

And while midnight tonight might strike the end of the year, it's merely the close of a chapter, in a book that is simply a volume in a massive series depicting this crazy, beautiful life.

In the wise words of Flavia: "There are no endings, only new beginnings."

In a way, I don't feel as sentimental about New Year's Eve this year.

This year has showed me to don't need a countdown or a dropping ball to make a change or keep a resolution.

If you want to make a change, then do it.

In a sense every day is like New Year's Eve with that kind of philosophy (and hey, I'm drinking enough of the time to make that even more plausible).

And everyday is a new journey.

This will be my last post in over a month.

In a few days I will be setting out on a journey, and not the metaphorical sense.

5 weeks in the Costa Rican jungle is sure to be a grounding experience in reality, it will probably have it's own book in the saga.

So happy New Year Sydney, and don't change too much while I'm gone; I don't want to miss out on the excitement.

"if you can wait 'til I get home, then I swear to you that we can make this last" - A Day To Remember

Happiness

Some times, things just make you happy.

You can't explain it, it doesn't always make sense, and sometimes you might even feel like you really shouldn't be feeling the way you're feeling at such a moment.

It might be something as powerful as love, and twisted as a fetish, or as innocent as a favourite track of music.

Yet I think the most important thing we have to learn is that different things make different people happy.

You might think that something seems incredibly wrong, that it shouldn't be happening, that no good would come out of it.

However, I believe this reasoning comes from a lack of empathy or understanding.

There really isn't any foolproof way of putting yourself in someone else's shoes and experiencing exactly how a given circumstance makes them feel.

Most of the time, your third party judgement is clouded, based on some ulterior motive or pre-conceived belief on what you think you know.

I think there would be a lot less drama in the world if everybody learnt how to accept and care a great deal less about things that didn't directly impact them, or to have much less of a say in things that are just none of their business.

At the end of the day, you can judge and you can complain and you can pass all kinds of comments, but you're never going to change the way people feel.

Most of the time, it only takes a simple something, or someone, to make someone happy.

You can kick and scream and disapprove as much as you want, and maybe it might make a difference.

But you're just changing the way anyone feels.

You're just becoming a barricade, a bar in the road, putting a halt to something that one would expect, and hope, to come to naturally.

I don't know about you, but the last thing I want to do is stand in the way of someone else's happiness.

"I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you" - Taylor Swift