(no subject)
I barely use this thing; yes, I post quite a bit, but it's never worth reading and it never really offers any insight.
The fact that I last posted at the beginning of May is silly. A lot of things have happened, and my life has dramatically changed direction, and I have had plenty of free time to chronicle these things. I have never been very good at organising my time.
I am listening to Control on my record player because I bought another stylus in frustration at the fact nothing was happening with the first one, which I will keep as a spare/next one when it eventually returns to me - at the wrong address, now, as it will have been so long that the address they believe I live at will be 210 miles out.
So that's one thing - my new house. I'm moving in on Saturday; I don't think anyone else will be joining me for at least a month, but the 4th of August is quite late enough (although I mean that far less than I would have four weeks ago). For one thing,
On the 4th of May, a boy called David - who I had, the previous day, been on a rather fumbling date with, the kind that makes you feel like you're fourteen again and like nothing else really matters - invited me to a party partly organised by someone I now know to be Will. A lot of punch, some swapped jumpers, a quantity of calmly forcible counsel from someone I now know to be Colin and an increased heartbeat later, the party turned into a riot. Several police cars, thirty policemen with truncheons, and some riot dogs arrived and made everyone leave, mauling a few of them rather unnecessarily in the process. (Why? This is another story. People were interviewed for local news programmes and the Union made a statement and Will either got arrested or nearly got arrested for not conforming to the somewhat 1984 manner in which events were denied.) So we were running down the road, basically, with a couple of hundred other people. There was quite a lot of shouting and some dogs barking and a vague collective panic. And this boy, who runs the record library I mentioned on here ten months ago, pulled me to the side of the road and kissed me and time froze and everything changed.
For perhaps the first time, it felt like it meant something really, really important. He'd dived in and rescued me from the conclusion to two years of snowballing personal relationship disaster. In two months, he'd changed me - or, rather, woken me up after so very long. I wanted people to understand what was happening. To this end,
I told my dad I was gay. This was, on paper, positive, but it has not yet reached a stage where it is even approaching positive within our relationship. It is hard to derail something that is built on nothing - rather like you cannot break air - but it seems to have succeeded anyway. I am living with daily homophobia; the irony is that he seems to be claiming that I am going to experience a lot of difficulty as a result of being gay. I find it hard to imagine much worse than aggressively stubborn blindness from one's own father - again, on paper. I have never really believed that my father would stand up as such on any other surface.
So I basically do not want to stay here. This is difficult, because I don't want to leave my mother this early, but I don't think I am strong enough to live with this indefinitely. Not combined with (one), anyway. Furthermore, David coming here is a rather delicate PR operation, which is not what you want, considering my mum coming to Leeds would not be a delicate PR operation.
(three) I need a job.
However,
(minus one) perhaps I was rather too fatalistic about those bridges. And I am a musician again. I feel grateful, humbled, in awe. Perhaps above all, I feel confused by my own behaviour, but also paradoxically as though the reasons are all too simple and I am simply a bit weak. I did not act through any deficiency in love. Either way, I am learning to take responsibility for what happened. And the people who need to know this know it.
Incidentally, I lost my phone in Appleton Wiske as we got to Rollins's party. I intended to post an individual entry to deal with how very wrong our locations and direction were prior to our actual arrival some four hours late, but it would be too depressing really. Specifically, 07846737252 is who I now am.
My new address is available upon request, as are tickets to our upcoming gigs.
The fact that I last posted at the beginning of May is silly. A lot of things have happened, and my life has dramatically changed direction, and I have had plenty of free time to chronicle these things. I have never been very good at organising my time.
I am listening to Control on my record player because I bought another stylus in frustration at the fact nothing was happening with the first one, which I will keep as a spare/next one when it eventually returns to me - at the wrong address, now, as it will have been so long that the address they believe I live at will be 210 miles out.
So that's one thing - my new house. I'm moving in on Saturday; I don't think anyone else will be joining me for at least a month, but the 4th of August is quite late enough (although I mean that far less than I would have four weeks ago). For one thing,
On the 4th of May, a boy called David - who I had, the previous day, been on a rather fumbling date with, the kind that makes you feel like you're fourteen again and like nothing else really matters - invited me to a party partly organised by someone I now know to be Will. A lot of punch, some swapped jumpers, a quantity of calmly forcible counsel from someone I now know to be Colin and an increased heartbeat later, the party turned into a riot. Several police cars, thirty policemen with truncheons, and some riot dogs arrived and made everyone leave, mauling a few of them rather unnecessarily in the process. (Why? This is another story. People were interviewed for local news programmes and the Union made a statement and Will either got arrested or nearly got arrested for not conforming to the somewhat 1984 manner in which events were denied.) So we were running down the road, basically, with a couple of hundred other people. There was quite a lot of shouting and some dogs barking and a vague collective panic. And this boy, who runs the record library I mentioned on here ten months ago, pulled me to the side of the road and kissed me and time froze and everything changed.
For perhaps the first time, it felt like it meant something really, really important. He'd dived in and rescued me from the conclusion to two years of snowballing personal relationship disaster. In two months, he'd changed me - or, rather, woken me up after so very long. I wanted people to understand what was happening. To this end,
I told my dad I was gay. This was, on paper, positive, but it has not yet reached a stage where it is even approaching positive within our relationship. It is hard to derail something that is built on nothing - rather like you cannot break air - but it seems to have succeeded anyway. I am living with daily homophobia; the irony is that he seems to be claiming that I am going to experience a lot of difficulty as a result of being gay. I find it hard to imagine much worse than aggressively stubborn blindness from one's own father - again, on paper. I have never really believed that my father would stand up as such on any other surface.
So I basically do not want to stay here. This is difficult, because I don't want to leave my mother this early, but I don't think I am strong enough to live with this indefinitely. Not combined with (one), anyway. Furthermore, David coming here is a rather delicate PR operation, which is not what you want, considering my mum coming to Leeds would not be a delicate PR operation.
(three) I need a job.
However,
(minus one) perhaps I was rather too fatalistic about those bridges. And I am a musician again. I feel grateful, humbled, in awe. Perhaps above all, I feel confused by my own behaviour, but also paradoxically as though the reasons are all too simple and I am simply a bit weak. I did not act through any deficiency in love. Either way, I am learning to take responsibility for what happened. And the people who need to know this know it.
Incidentally, I lost my phone in Appleton Wiske as we got to Rollins's party. I intended to post an individual entry to deal with how very wrong our locations and direction were prior to our actual arrival some four hours late, but it would be too depressing really. Specifically, 07846737252 is who I now am.
My new address is available upon request, as are tickets to our upcoming gigs.