Perspective

I've always considered my personality to be pretty malleable, adaptable.
My spirit animal is probably a chameleon - I can take the viewpoints and opinions of the people around me and make sense of them, understand them. Well, to an extent.
I use to hate this, because I thought it made me somewhat less of a person. It was like I didn't really have any views of my own and I seemed to be so easily swayed by whatever the people around me had been propagating and arguing.
Now, I guess it's changed. I'm still finding my place in the world, but I feel as though I've listened to enough, and learned enough, to articulate my own views in the context of others, and not be spoon-fed everything by my surroundings. Critical thinking, if you will (I had to get something out of an Arts degree). I found my perspective on the world, finally.
But having the malleable intellect that I do, even that was subject to change.

I've probably written about monogamy before.
I don't know what I said, but I can almost guarantee it's different from what I'm about to say.

Over the past couple of years I've had a lot of lovers, and a handful of partners who were more than just crossing specks of dust, or ships passing in the night.
We got together and moved forward together in the same direction. And I learnt a lot in all the time I spent with them. Yet the inevitable fact is that we, as two specks of dust, separated and continued on our own journeys.
I used to be so wrapped up in the happy ending fairytale, finding the right guy, falling in love. You've seen Disney movies, you know what I'm talking about.
God knows, I tried.
I really did.

I had guys love but ultimately get bored and leave me. I had moments where I drunkenly fucked up and made some bad decisions and said some bad things that pretty much rendered relationships void. I've had people who I couldn't be with any more due to geographic undesirability. But perhaps the worst of all was when, after all the mishaps, I was in a great, committed, happy relationship... except I wasn't happy.
It had nothing to do with the guy - he was probably one of the sweetest guys I've ever dated, and that's what makes it so hard. Why did being with him feel so wrong?

After much contemplation and deliberation and wondering if it was all a mistake, the answer hit me.
I don't need - no, I don't want a relationship.
Human company is something that I enjoy, and necessary throughout my life. But I don't find that level of intimacy essential.
I love my friends, and there's people I can turn to for sexual intimacy if I so desire, without having complications or commitments that I feel, to an extent, restrict my independence.
I felt like I was losing myself in relationships as much as the conversations I had on a daily basis, and now that I've finally found myself, I'm starting to think that maybe it was never my place to be in a relationship in the first place.
I guess this relates back to monogamy purely on the basis that I don't think there's any one person I really want to confine myself and completely share myself, and inevitably lose myself in, just yet.
And I don't think that's a bad thing.

More than ever with marriage equality rights debates, it seems now everyone is bombarded with the fantasy of a happily ever after, when in reality it doesn't have to be like that. I mean, I'm still perfectly happy. Maybe one day I'll find someone, but that doesn't have to be the conclusion to my story.
The cynical streak in me would go a little further to say that none of us are really fit for the happily ever after - it's not natural, and the people who've found it are just delusional.

But I won't - if you found love in this hopeless place, then good for you, I'm happy for you.

Though for the rest of you - don't feel pressured to live your life the way society says you have to. Most importantly, don't let your happiness depend on the lie that there is one single person out there that is going to make you happy, and that you have to find them.




"I'm gonna overcome this, paper hearts can't win this time
and all along I should have known this wasn't your dream, it was mine" - Firewater, Yellowcard


"And what would be practical, Theodore? To get married? And move to the suburbs, and become a home loving, child raising, God fearing imitation heterosexual? And for what? So that I can become another dead soul going to the mall and dropping off my kids at school and having barbecues in the back yard? That's their death, not mine. I'm a cock sucker. I'm a queer. And to anyone who takes pity, or offence, I say 'Judge yourself.' This is where I live. This is who I am." - Brian Kinney, Queer as Folk

Pairs

I'm going to vent a little bit about something that I've been noticing a lot recently.
It's going to be a very whiney, pathetic blog consisting of first world problems, so if you're not really in the mood for that, then this is your final warning: close this window now.

If you're still here, you're either really sadistic, or just as lonely as I am.

Lately in my life, I can't help but notice how everyone is pairing up, and relationships are just becoming so common place that it's almost deemed weird to be single.
And especially weird to enjoy being single.

In every movie, book, social situation, there always seems to be the ostracism or 'othering' of the single person.

And the happy ending, the resolution to all the fucked up shit that happens, etc., is when they meet the love their life and everything is dandy forever and ever.

Peachy. Fucking. Keen.

But it's not like that.

You know it, I know it, love doesn't always come along and smack you in the face, saying "Cheer up buddy, I'm here to save the day!"
Sure, sometimes it does sneak up on you unexpectedly, but for me that usually ends up with me being bowled over and flattened, my feelings and organs being smushed into the ground, like a slightly less agile cousin of Indiana Jones who just couldn't keep ahead of those giant rolling boulders.

I had something pretty good going on towards the end of last year.
But I had to give it up, involuntarily, and I was left without the raging range of motions that I usually go through when I'm getting over someone (if you've ever heard my music, you'd know I'm really just a bitter old bitch).
I guess you could say I was still in a phase, and I power dated (yet I use the term 'date' loosely) through a bunch of guys. None of them really held my interest for long, and the couple that did either didn't reciprocate it, or just fooled around with me and fucked me over (big surprise, I know!).

I've always been an advocate of the "Love finds you as soon as you stop looking for it" theory, so I acknowledge that it would be nice to find a great guy and be in a wholesome relationship, but I try not to let it bother me that I haven't and that I'm not.

So I just try to put it out of my mind.
"Don't think about it, when you stop thinking about it, you just open yourself up more to the possibilities of meeting someone."

And yes, I would totally do that... if I wasn't constantly reminded of these romances and relationships in nearly every single waking minute of every day of my life.

All around me I see couples; old, young, recent, passing their golden anniversary - and everyone just looks so damn happy.

Which is fine - I am absolutely happy for them.

But it kinda puts a burden/air of retardation on a guy like me who's longest relationship has been the better part of two months.

I'm at the point where I want to stop thinking about it, I want to get on with my life as a single person, and start enjoying it. I used to love being single! The freedom, the fun, the independence!

But such is the saturation that I can't not think about it.

It makes me think about the gay rights movement, and all the rights of relationship recognition that we fight for, and at the end of it, everyone seems to go, "Well, we've almost got gay marriage legalised - now I just need to find a man to marry!"

I'm well aware the the principle of gay marriage is about ending legislative discrimination and stopping homosexuals from being classed and second class citizens, regardless of whether you want to get married or not.

But when it is legalised, well... I won't be off the hook of the expectations that most parents (and most of society, at that) have, of their kids growing up, getting married, settling down and giving them grandkids.

Which is all well and good. I honestly have nothing against that.
I just wish I had something else to take my mind off it.

"I'm gonna ask you to stop,

thought I liked you a lot but I'm really upset

so get out of my head,

get off of my bed, yeah that's what I said" - Avril Lavigne, Don't Tell Me

Body

So I joined a gym a couple of weeks ago.

It had been a long time since I had any kind of regular exercise routine, and while I wasn't overweight or particularly unhealthy, I thought it would be a reasonable idea to take some proactive measures towards increasing my fitness.

Because I do enjoy a good workout.

I love the feeling of the endorphines after a good long run, and the burn in your calves and quads as you stretch out to touch your toes.

I've been going to a lot of the scheduled classes, developing a still sporadic kind of routine throughout my holidays, but today I had a free consultation and assessment with one of the gyms personal trainers, that was complimentary with my membership.

He looked at the answers from my lifestyle survey, and measured my fat in twelve key locations on my body.

Now, I know I'm no body builder, but I've always thought that I've had a pretty good body and a decent level of health, considering the some of my extra-curricular activities.

Yes, I probably drink more alcohol than is considered healthy, but if I thought it was affecting my body extremely adversely, I would stop.

After my assessment, I was told that I had 20% body fat, the "optimum level" being 10%.

By this personal trainers standards, my chest was classified as "man boobs" (direct quote), and my situation, for a 20-year-old, was "not good".

As I said, I know I'm not the picture of perfection when it comes to healthy living. I don't know what I was expecting from the session, but it wasn't to be torn down and have my self-esteem eroded away along with my "man boobs".

I left the consultation feeling miserable, like all good intentions for simply being healthy were naive and worthless if I didn't have the sculpted body to prove it.
Which I could have, with some drastic changes and sacrifies... and for $50 of his time each session (fat chance, pardon the pun).

Someone came into my life recently and mentioned something in general conversation which I actually found quite profound.

He said: "I find that a lot of the good looking guys can be particularly rude or nasty. Especially models. These models, they become very insecure, because they're constantly being told that they're not good enough, that they have to look better. It's a very harsh world, and they develop these bitchy defence mechanisms to cope."
Or something along those lines.

And knowing a couple of models, it was an argument that hit pretty close to home (and made me wonder why on earth I'd ever considered pursuing it).
But today, at the gym, it did more than that. It was a nuclear bomb that just demolished everything that I thought I knew about esteem and confidence.

It's a problem that I find rife in the gay community. There's a reason the gym was coined 'gay Church' in Will & Grace. 'Gym bunny' is a common sub-stereotype, and we lust and idolise over the buff men that dance in our bars (and on them, for that matter).

The world is finally starting to realise that the muscly hunks on the cover of fitness/gay magazines are having just as much adverse effects on guys as the wafer thing women on fashion magazines are having on teenage girls.

"You're not perfect until you have the body to go with it" was the personal motto/gym inspiration of one of my friends. Personally I thought his body was fine, but I guess I must have left my gay culture lenses at home that day.
Or maybe people aren't satisfied with being "fine" these days.
Which is legitimate, I suppose. But I've lost relationships/friends to people who were just so obsessed with the gym, that they wouldn't eat out, or splurge every now and then, all because they were so set on getting or maintaining their 10% body fat.

It's sad that people need to have that "perfect body" in order to feel confident.

Sure, some people are overweight, and exercising and losing weight to have a more average sized body is a good thing for them.

It's just this near unobtainable idea of perfection that makes me a little sick in the stomach.

I'm not going to stop going to the gym, as demotivating as today was for me.

I'm going to sweat my ass off going yoga, Pilates, Zumba, whatever. I'll lift a few weights every now and then.

But I don't need a personal trainer telling me what to do, what to eat, and how to live my life.

For me, confidence isn't the biggest set of pecs, or a chiseled abdomen.

Confidence is eating that block of chocolate, or that KFC Ultimate Burger meal, or shit loads of carbs in a bowl of pasta after 6pm, and still being able to say "I am happy with how I look, and how I feel."

Even if it means feeling the burn after an hour on the treadmill the next day.
I want to be healthy, but I refuse to let the quest of having the 'ideal' body get in the way of me enjoying my life.

"but if you can't look inside you,
find out who am I to

be in a position to make me feel so damn unpretty" - TLC

Kiss

When you think about it, kissing is a really weird thing.

We get taught as children to not share our food and drinks, for fear of sharing saliva and eventually contracting some kind of disease. We learn about germs, and in most cases it even goes as far as cooties, or 'boy germs' and 'girl germs', and we're very aware of who and what we are touching, and putting in and around our mouths.

Fast forward to junior high school and its a whole different ball game. We learn the biology about food and germs, and know to not put our lips on someone else's water bottle (or just be really good friends enough to know they're not going to give you anything). We also realise that cookies was just a myth, some lie our parents probably told us to stop us from growing up too quickly.

On a side note, I think parents of the youngest generation are not trying hard enough to enforce this myth. Kids are way too slutty these days.

But pressing on, we realise that putting things in and around our mouths can actually be pretty fun. Most notably, other peoples mouths. The first kiss is something that is highly romanticised by almost every teenage movie. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, because I'll be the first to admit I enjoy a good snog. Psychological studies have shown that kissing is one of the few universal behaviours that transcend cultural differences. Sucking face with someone is, for all intents and purposes, completely natural. Whether or not your first kiss needs to be a memorable milestone is debatable, but it emphasises the frequent occurrence, as well as the perceived importance, of kissing.

This is all well and good, but as humans we have a knack for taking what seems to come naturally and ruining it with a complex bunch of feeling, emotions, morals and ethics.

The value placed on kissing is subjective, varying immensely between individuals. To some people it means friendship, where a kiss on the lips is just a variation of a handshake. For some people its a special action, loaded with emotional value, and wholly reserved for that special person in their lives. I guess this perspective views it as an extension, or prelude, to sex (whose societal value is a whole new can of worms I'm leaving the lid on, for now). Then there are people who enjoy kissing, but don't put a great deal of emotional energy into it. 'A kiss is just a kiss' kind of mentality, where it's a physical response to a physiological urge rather than any passionate emotion.

Which is where I'm getting at, I guess. How on earth did kissing come to have such a range of complex meanings?

Further still, what confuses me is when people seem to simultaneously use these different variations of kissing in their every day life. For example, if you're in a relationship with someone, kissing them is an obviously display of your love and affection towards them. Things like open relationships or 'hall passes', being able to kiss other people with little to no consequence... I feel that devalues whatever kind of kissing you're doing with your partner.

I'm not saying that casual hook-ups are inherently bad. Kissing a stranger when your single is a little cheeky and usually a bit of harmless fun, but when there's a third party involved, there's a mixed bag of hurt feelings and sticky jealousy that never ends well.
There's exceptions, like kisses that are controversial or well publicised in order to generate a response or garner attention, but that isn't really what I'm talking about.

Why does kissing seem to waver on the line of exclusivity in a relationship, never really choosing a side?

I've seen people shake off their partners kisses with other people as a one-off mistakes, something that's easily forgiven.
I've seen relationships shaken, even completely destroyed, by a kiss of infidelity (although the fact that they lied about it amplified the severity of the situation, something I really do agree with).

Either way, you can't claim to anyone that kissing isn't a big deal.
Regardless of it being a natural human behaviour, you wouldn't be doing it if you didn't want to.

I won't pretend there is a right or a wrong way to value your kisses.

But I do feel that in this day and age, where nothing seems sacred anymore, we should probably stop and think about these things of importance, before displays of affection really lose all meaning.

This focus on kissing mainly comes from the public nature the act can acquire. Open relationships, sex, and things like that can be a pretty private circumstance that isn't as visible as the guy with a boyfriend snogging someone else on the dance floor.

"it started out with a kiss

how did it end up like this?
it was only a kiss, it was only a kiss..." - Mr. Brightside, The Killers

Resolutions

I recently belittled the idea of New Year Resolutions in a Facebook status, saying that people never keep them.
Because I honestly think there is something stupid about making drastic changes for seemingly no reason except for the turn on the New Year. In reality, it's just another day.

For some people having resolutions are just a way of delaying something they don't really want to do. They'll make the resolutions so they feel better at the time, telling themselves they'll change soon. But when it comes to crunch time, I've heard very few stories of people completely sticking to resolutions and having their expected outcomes.

I guess there's something kind of symbolic about New Years Eve, the countdown to midnight. New year, new beginnings, that kind of sentimental psychobabble. Which is fine, I get that, if that's what works for you.
But if you really want to make a change, just do it. New days bring new beginnings too, not just years.

But I also have an issue with the whole 'changing' thing too.

I mean, sure, changing a few habits to be a little healthier, or picking up a new hobby, thats fine.
But people who want to make sweeping, drastic changes to their lives and essentially their personalities, are really only fooling themselves. Those kind of things don't happen overnight. And that's what the new year is - just another night.

I've always had a bit of a complex over two social pressures:
On the one hand, we're always told to be ourselves, stay true to what we belief in, don't change ourselves for anyone.
But then we're also hit with slogans like "Be the change you want to see", and the notion that by making a pact at the stroke of midnight, we can enhance our lives by changing the person we are.

Are you really changing as a person, or are you becoming somebody else entirely?

As someone who spends an excessive amount of time dwelling on existential crisis, I view it as an ill-fitting societal double-standard that is driving todays youth crazy with self-esteem and body image issues. Nobody likes mix signals.

Having said all that, I DO have one resolution: I'm going to start blogging a lot more. On a weekly, if not daily basis. So stick around for that.

"once upon a time
I used to romanticise,

used to be somebody, never mind

I don't miss it that much now" - Ever After, Marianas Trench

Reflection on 2011

I haven't written a blog in a really long time.
I don't know when it happened, but I started to find something really unattractive about having my entire life published on the Internet.
I stopped posting Facebook statuses, about the big things and the little things, and decided to maintain a little online mystery. At least compared to what I was like before.

But I'm going to break out of that little phase, for just a moment, and reflect on my year. Because as soppy and overly sentimental as it seems, I think there's something useful and fulfilling in that. I'd write it on paper and store it in a scrap book under my bed, but I think I've forgotten how to write without a keyboard, so this is the next best thing.

When I look back, 2011 really feels like the beginning of the rest of my life. Or at least the next part of it.

It kicked off with my very first overseas trip by myself. I say by myself to mean without any family members or friends, but having said that, I met an amazing group of people while I was traveling and volunteering in Costa Rica. Spending so much time with the same people, getting to know them in such a short time frame, you form some pretty amazing bonds, and even though they live on the other side of the country, and the world, I met a bunch of people who I have some beautiful memories with and who I don't think I could ever forget if I tried.
I also learnt to appreciate pretty much everything I have in my life, after seeing the simplicity of life in the Costa Rican mountains. At times I was jealous, the way technology didn't have such a firm grasp on their very existence, the way it does on mine. It was a very inspirational 5 weeks and I think it set me up for the changes that occurred throughout my life this year.

I got three tattoos this year. The first one, Pura Vida (Spanish for 'Pure Life') on my right foot, is symbolic of the time I spent in Costa Rica, and the lessons I learnt there.

I moved out of home this year, which was also huge. While it's a family owned property, which removed the hassles of renting and leases, it still meant living on a daily basis without the help or motivation from my family. I found that really difficult at times. At times when I wasn't feeling my greatest, it was an effort to just get out of bed. When I had the flu I had no one there to look after me, and it was very easily to quickly fall into a depressing loneliness. But despite all that, living in the city was extremely liberating. Drastically reduced travel time from university meant longer sleep ins in the morning, and increased proximity to Oxford Street meant many, many more trashy nights. This year was the beginning of my love affair with Stonewall on a Wednesday night, and my pile of mail from Malebox has steadily been growing over the past 9 months or so.

Oxford Street and the nightlife was still a big part of my year, as it was in 2010, but it felt different this year. I was a local, and regular, and half the time I found myself sipping on a cider on a school night, just because I felt I had nothing better to do (uni assignments totally didn't count). I had to learn self-control, because eventually my body basically broke down and I became really sick, a rare occurrence for me. So despite my carefree lifestyle that I quickly adopted, I also had to mature and great deal and learn when it was actually appropriate and when I had to reign in the alcoholic genes and treat myself like the adult that I wanted the world to treat me as, too.

Having said that, my second tattoo was inspired by Lady Gaga and along with my best friend, no matter how mature I become, I will still have 'Bad Kid' branded into my shoulder as a reminder of the fun I've had, and the nights I could stay out til 4am and still get up for work or uni in the morning and not actually feel too terrible.

University continued along rather uneventfully, in the academic aspect, but once again partying and social life played a prominent part of my year. I made a lot of new friends from all walks of life, and I'm thankful to have met every single one of them. Work wise, I burnt through a couple of jobs. I broke my vow on never returning to hospitality, very quickly regretted it, and then started fresh in two new areas: promotions and retail. I am loving both of them, especially the retail position, where I already feel like I've joined a new family of lovely people who I'm so glad to have met.

The last thing I want to reflect on from this year is my relationships.

Boys tend to come and go in my life, but this year there were three that really left an impact in my life.

Sadly, things didn't work out with any of them.

The first break up was his fault. He reminded me how much I hate liars, and how much a value honesty.
The second break up was my fault. He taught me that sometimes, honesty isn't enough to be able to save things.
The third was no ones fault, just an unfortunate circumstance that had to tear us apart. He taught me that there's a lot more to a relationship than two people liking each other, and some things just come with an inevitable time limit.
I live by a motto of no regrets, and though I was hurt several times, and did a number of things that I'm not proud of, I feel like I took important lessons away from all of them.

My final tattoo of the year is my own memento of the most important lesson: "I'll take the truth at any cost."
I'd prefer to have no relationship at all than have one based on lies or mistrust.
I'd like to think that's not a reflection of while I'll be single at the stroke of midnight tonight, though.

I still have the utmost respect and positive feelings towards two of those three.
I guess that's how things work out sometimes.

So in the end, 2011 was neither a good year or a bad year.
I had my fair share of both. Met some incredible people and made a bunch of friends who completely changed my life, suffered a few mishaps and tragedies, but nothing all consuming or that I couldn't bounce back from.

So ultimately, it was a year of growing and learning.

Here's to the new year, 2012, where hopefully I can put some of those lessons to use.

"arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to
they're better off without you

arrogant boy, cause a scene like you're supposed to

they'll fall asleep without you

you're lucky if your memory remains..." - Therapy, All Time Low

Goals

Of course, it had to happen.

That moment in life where you sit back and actually think "What the fuck am I doing with my life?"

Sitting down, trying to find the motivation to start an assignment, I decided to think about my future prospectives and how it might be applicable to a job in the future that I'd love to be doing.

And it was then that it dawned on me... I didn't want to do anything like this in the future!

Maybe this moment of horror doesn't happen to everyone. But to be honest, this isn't the first time it's happened to me.

I've spent many a night on the phone to family and friends, complaining that I hate what I am doing, yet unsure of what it actually I want to do.

And I get told, "Robert, you're a smart young man. You can do anything you want!"

But that's the problem! What do I want?

There's also the subtle implication in that phrase, which is: "You're really smart, don't let it go to waste, do something super intellectual and impressive and high-pressure because you'll look like a massive failure if you don't live up to your perceived potential."

And I think that has been a major problem for me.

I don't want to be a doctor, I don't want to be a lawyer.

Sometimes I feel that I'm not smart enough. Other times I think I would be smart enough, but I have very little motivation to actually do anything like that.

Which made me feel lazy. Because I didn't feel any extreme passion towards kind of typical job.

Truth be told, the only passion I've every really had was for creative things, like music and writing. Things like this, things that I knew that I was good at and things that I really did enjoy.

Except no one ever encourages you do pursue any kind of career in that kind of area.

I've always felt as though the few things I've wanted to do are the few things that were never reinforced as something that I could do, never made out to be an achievable goal of any kind.

So now I'm stuck in an ultimate limbo world.

Studying a degree, doing two majors, one which I enjoy and one which I hate. I get to do a lot of writing, which I enjoy, but I don't often get the chance to be creative, which is quite suffocating. I'm still able to be creative and write music on the side, but often not as much as I'd like because I'm too pre-occupied about work I should be doing for my degree, and never feeling able to strike the right balance.

I have goals. I know they're probably achievable.

Let someone I managed to let everyone else's bullshit get in the way to the point that I don't know what's actually true anymore.

And I still have another essay that I should be writing.

"They called it education, I saw a means to an end

I saw my life another way" - It's Not A Bad Little War, Bayside