Boredom, to put it simply.
Everyone told me that once I entered the "Real World", all my free time would disappear and my responsibilities would lock me into an invisible box of stress, work and money problems. I imagined myself as a a mime, face wrought with panic; pawing at the walls, wanting to escape. I don't think I ever heard any different, so I accepted this as inevitability, grabbed my diploma, found a real estate agent and crossed the threshold into "reality" with gritted teeth and an distinct nausea that accompanies impending doom.
Now, however, instead of pawing at invisible walls, I seem to be pulling at an invisible rope that won't end. I apologize for the mime metaphors, but it seemed appropriate in the introduction. I digress.
Nobody I ever talked to was a freelance graphic designer on retainer with a deep-pocketed gay bar. I take work as it finds me, collect enough money from a garage band's album cover for groceries, and sit and wait, taking my laptop to a coffee shop and making pretty pictures (if only for the attention I get from people walking behind me and cooing, "Oooh, did you make that?"). Then the gay bar comes up with a new event and asks for a poster. They pay me a flat fee, which we both know is overpayment for an hour's worth of typography work. The Real World didn't turn out to be so horrible after all.
My day usually begins at 7:30 in the morning. I make coffee, go to the gym in my building, watch the cute guy from 2-A on the elliptical machine while I listen to my iPod on the treadmill, then take a shower and work on whatever work has come my way until 4:00 or so. Then I check my Facebook, Twitter, blogs, news, etc. until I can't take any more and make dinner.
My day is really quite empty after that. I sit on my couch, watching YouTube videos and reading celebrity gossip. Sometimes I'll play Wii Tennis, sometimes I'll bake cookies, sometimes I'll buy a bottle of gin and watch House- taking a gulp from my tumbler every time they guess lupus or the patient goes into cardiac arrest.
Sometimes I go to the gay bar one street down and drink watery beer until the bears are attractive.
But after I've whooped the computer's ass at tennis for the bazillionth time, start mouthing Dr. House's lines before he says them, and get greeted by the bartender on a first name basis, I'm bored again. I need something new to distract myself with. This is, apparently, typical of a Gemini. We lose interest in things quickly and crave some new adventure. Having a fast internet connection and a slight knack for anthropological study, I took to the internet to find a new tribe, a new ritual, a new set of rules. What I found was 4chan, an image board full of pornography, dark humor, blatant racism, violence and a bizarre intimacy that only complete anonymity could provide.
I checked it out once on a lark after hearing that it was being banned from certain cellular networks. Anything that repugnant is something I simply must see for myself. What I found wasn't at all what I expected. At first it was shockingly offensive, then it became almost like a second home. A home without laws where I could say anything, do anything, and if someone fights with me, I have just as much power as they do to fight right back. People there are considered "fags", but it's so overused that its homophobic origin has been all but lost. There are newfags, oldfags, Ohiofags, Canadafags, pokémonfags, even gayfags. Yes, gayfags. I had not only discovered a new place, but a place with its own gay community that faced cruelty from bigots and silence from allies. It was a microcosm set within a world without laws, and the gays had come out loud and proud. I was proud to become part of it. I had friendships that lasted an hour then disappeared. I started to come back every night.
But, being a Gemini, I eventually wanted something new from there. I still went, made my own little impact on the discussion boards, but then I discovered a place where I could interact more personally with these new "friends" of mine. Those anonymous "gayfags" I loved so much created little webcam chat rooms. And while it's inevitable that a hotblooded college-bound homosexual will get naked in front of a webcam, it wasn't strictly sex. I could turn on my camera and simply let these people talk to a face. And, being a handsome fellow in a sea of gangly gamers, I reveled in the compliments and sexual come-ons.
It didn't take too long before some of these people wanted to get to know me better, so I foolishly added one man about my age to Facebook. We learned each other's names, what we did for a living, our likes and dislikes, and even had a few nice conversations. It went from complete anonymity to budding friendship in no time flat.
But it all came crashing down on me last night when said fellow initiated a private conversation. "I'm bored," he began. And he proceeded to tell me about how he hated feminine-acting "faggots", that they were the only men in his city, and that he was depressed about his "relationship" with a man he emails in Brazil. I've heard a lot of self-pity and emo whining, but this was simply unbearable. Not only was he immaturely expecting so much from so little effort, but he was expressing a sincere hatred for other gay men. And I simply would not stand for it. I told him to buck up, get a hobby, find a man in his own town, and stop discriminating against people that are just as marginalized- if not more so- than him. As I took a closer look at the conversation in the chat room, I realized I had found myself in a group of apathetic, self-hating gay men that were internet-bound gaming enthusiasts that were, for the most part, closeted. When a 20-year-old man said, "OMG u hold your bf's hand in public?!", I realized these were the type of men that I disliked. The members of our community that don't get involved because it's simply too much bother, and they're too afraid of the social backlash.
Well fuck that. I came out when I was 15 and it was the best decision I ever made. And in a world where we're denied rights and sound state of mind, it demands that we do something about it and not just watch anonymous men masturbate on camera while complaining about the flamboyant, rainbow flag-carrying members of the gay-straight alliance. At least they're doing something, assholes.
But I can't just express this to these people. I could say, "Don't you want justice? What about marriage equality and workplace discrimination?" But I know they wouldn't care, and it isn't that type of party. So I closed the window, grabbed a bottle of gin and fired up House once more.
This weekend I'm going to hit up that new gay bar on Hennepin Avenue, wear something fabulous and meet new guys. And I'm going to bring a bottle of glitter to throw on the dance floor because I'm just that fabulous. So am I going back to 4chan tonight? No, I've moved on. Tonight I'm going to look into local gay rights groups and meet people that give a shit. Then when I'm hungover and covered in glitter on Monday morning, I'm going to attend a meeting and see what I can do.
And, like a typical Gemini, I'll probably be bored with that in a week or two as well. But then maybe I'll buy a new season of House on DVD and learn all the lines anew. Who knows.
Now, however, instead of pawing at invisible walls, I seem to be pulling at an invisible rope that won't end. I apologize for the mime metaphors, but it seemed appropriate in the introduction. I digress.
Nobody I ever talked to was a freelance graphic designer on retainer with a deep-pocketed gay bar. I take work as it finds me, collect enough money from a garage band's album cover for groceries, and sit and wait, taking my laptop to a coffee shop and making pretty pictures (if only for the attention I get from people walking behind me and cooing, "Oooh, did you make that?"). Then the gay bar comes up with a new event and asks for a poster. They pay me a flat fee, which we both know is overpayment for an hour's worth of typography work. The Real World didn't turn out to be so horrible after all.
My day usually begins at 7:30 in the morning. I make coffee, go to the gym in my building, watch the cute guy from 2-A on the elliptical machine while I listen to my iPod on the treadmill, then take a shower and work on whatever work has come my way until 4:00 or so. Then I check my Facebook, Twitter, blogs, news, etc. until I can't take any more and make dinner.
My day is really quite empty after that. I sit on my couch, watching YouTube videos and reading celebrity gossip. Sometimes I'll play Wii Tennis, sometimes I'll bake cookies, sometimes I'll buy a bottle of gin and watch House- taking a gulp from my tumbler every time they guess lupus or the patient goes into cardiac arrest.
Sometimes I go to the gay bar one street down and drink watery beer until the bears are attractive.
But after I've whooped the computer's ass at tennis for the bazillionth time, start mouthing Dr. House's lines before he says them, and get greeted by the bartender on a first name basis, I'm bored again. I need something new to distract myself with. This is, apparently, typical of a Gemini. We lose interest in things quickly and crave some new adventure. Having a fast internet connection and a slight knack for anthropological study, I took to the internet to find a new tribe, a new ritual, a new set of rules. What I found was 4chan, an image board full of pornography, dark humor, blatant racism, violence and a bizarre intimacy that only complete anonymity could provide.
I checked it out once on a lark after hearing that it was being banned from certain cellular networks. Anything that repugnant is something I simply must see for myself. What I found wasn't at all what I expected. At first it was shockingly offensive, then it became almost like a second home. A home without laws where I could say anything, do anything, and if someone fights with me, I have just as much power as they do to fight right back. People there are considered "fags", but it's so overused that its homophobic origin has been all but lost. There are newfags, oldfags, Ohiofags, Canadafags, pokémonfags, even gayfags. Yes, gayfags. I had not only discovered a new place, but a place with its own gay community that faced cruelty from bigots and silence from allies. It was a microcosm set within a world without laws, and the gays had come out loud and proud. I was proud to become part of it. I had friendships that lasted an hour then disappeared. I started to come back every night.
But, being a Gemini, I eventually wanted something new from there. I still went, made my own little impact on the discussion boards, but then I discovered a place where I could interact more personally with these new "friends" of mine. Those anonymous "gayfags" I loved so much created little webcam chat rooms. And while it's inevitable that a hotblooded college-bound homosexual will get naked in front of a webcam, it wasn't strictly sex. I could turn on my camera and simply let these people talk to a face. And, being a handsome fellow in a sea of gangly gamers, I reveled in the compliments and sexual come-ons.
It didn't take too long before some of these people wanted to get to know me better, so I foolishly added one man about my age to Facebook. We learned each other's names, what we did for a living, our likes and dislikes, and even had a few nice conversations. It went from complete anonymity to budding friendship in no time flat.
But it all came crashing down on me last night when said fellow initiated a private conversation. "I'm bored," he began. And he proceeded to tell me about how he hated feminine-acting "faggots", that they were the only men in his city, and that he was depressed about his "relationship" with a man he emails in Brazil. I've heard a lot of self-pity and emo whining, but this was simply unbearable. Not only was he immaturely expecting so much from so little effort, but he was expressing a sincere hatred for other gay men. And I simply would not stand for it. I told him to buck up, get a hobby, find a man in his own town, and stop discriminating against people that are just as marginalized- if not more so- than him. As I took a closer look at the conversation in the chat room, I realized I had found myself in a group of apathetic, self-hating gay men that were internet-bound gaming enthusiasts that were, for the most part, closeted. When a 20-year-old man said, "OMG u hold your bf's hand in public?!", I realized these were the type of men that I disliked. The members of our community that don't get involved because it's simply too much bother, and they're too afraid of the social backlash.
Well fuck that. I came out when I was 15 and it was the best decision I ever made. And in a world where we're denied rights and sound state of mind, it demands that we do something about it and not just watch anonymous men masturbate on camera while complaining about the flamboyant, rainbow flag-carrying members of the gay-straight alliance. At least they're doing something, assholes.
But I can't just express this to these people. I could say, "Don't you want justice? What about marriage equality and workplace discrimination?" But I know they wouldn't care, and it isn't that type of party. So I closed the window, grabbed a bottle of gin and fired up House once more.
This weekend I'm going to hit up that new gay bar on Hennepin Avenue, wear something fabulous and meet new guys. And I'm going to bring a bottle of glitter to throw on the dance floor because I'm just that fabulous. So am I going back to 4chan tonight? No, I've moved on. Tonight I'm going to look into local gay rights groups and meet people that give a shit. Then when I'm hungover and covered in glitter on Monday morning, I'm going to attend a meeting and see what I can do.
And, like a typical Gemini, I'll probably be bored with that in a week or two as well. But then maybe I'll buy a new season of House on DVD and learn all the lines anew. Who knows.