My Life: Please Don’t Judge My Weirdness

I made it to Post #25 ya’ll!

Instead of writing something new, I thought of going back to the past. When I first started this blog and writing random posts. These posts were more simple and short. Kind of like me. They were before I had an audience who seemed to care about my life. Before I started writing more meaningful and longer posts. Not that there is anything wrong with that (Seinfeld reference). But I think it is fun to look back and read all of my randomness. So here are a few of my favorite posts that just didn’t garner much views. I hope you give them a try. And please, don’t judge my weirdness! 😛

My Life Through Daft Punk: All Time Views: 22

I guess people just don’t like the French. Haha. Just kidding of course. This post was inspired when I was going through a rough breakdown in the summer of 2013 and the only thing that seemed to help was listening to a song titled, “Fresh” by Daft Punk. The post describes the images that go through my head when I hear that song. I will admit that the writing is a bit choppy, but I was just starting to write! Geeze, I said not to judge. Anyways, if you like Daft Punk and pictures of the beach, you will definitely like this post.

https://mylifeinblogwebsite.wordpress.com/2013/07/31/my-life-through-daft-punk/

My Life In Story: All Time Views: 46

Okay now, I’m quite proud of this post right here. Not because I spent a month putting pieces of my interests together, but because the finished story feels perfect to me. I think this was when I decided that writing could be…like you know…fun! I hope you can spot all the references.

Music: Daft Punk, LCD Soundsystem, No Doubt. Deadmu5, Les Miserables. Macklemore & Ryan Lewis Books: The Catcher In The Rye, The Virgin Suicides, The Perks Of Being A Wallflower, Fun Home. T.V. Shows: Arrested Development, HIMYM Movies: The Dark Knight, The Matrix, Up. Places: San Francisco, Orange County, LA.

https://mylifeinblogwebsite.wordpress.com/2013/08/01/my-life-in-story/

My Life Through My Thoughts: All Time Views: 44

This post gives you some insight into what I thought about when I was younger. The post reads more like a diary entry, but I like the fact that it also let’s you know what I was thinking about before I had a breakdown. It’s short and honest.

https://mylifeinblogwebsite.wordpress.com/2013/07/22/my-life-through-my-thoughts/

BONUS: The First Relationship Of My Life: All Time Views: 62

Okay, I have no idea why this post didn’t get many views. This was the start of when I started to write long and meaningful stories. And to be honest, this was a deeper reveal into my personal life. This post tells the story of when I was young and in love (as cheesy as it sounds). If you ever wanted to know about my relationships, then this will definitely give you a glimpse.

https://mylifeinblogwebsite.wordpress.com/2013/07/27/the-first-relationship-of-my-life/

Anyways, I hope you give these posts a try and enjoy reading them as much as I loved writing them. Until next time my fellow bloggers. Let’s see what Post #50 brings.

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Life: Getting Myself Tested For HIV

I want you to know that I hate clinics. And pills.

A couple weeks ago, a person I had previously hooked up with contacted me to say he was HIV positive. I stood there quietly as I reread his text. I was shocked and didn’t know how to feel. I asked him when he found out and if I should be worried. He told me he had been positive for 6 months, but that he was undetectable now. He kept on insisting that we should sex again and to forget about using condoms. I stopped listening. He continued going on about how condoms burn him, make him break out, and how much he loved bareback sex. I just hung up. But I didn’t mean to be rude. He chose to engage in high risk behaviors and became HIV positive. I chose not to have sex with him again.

I walked into the clinic early in the morning the next day. I gave the receptionist my personal information and told her that I had been to this particular clinic before. She smiled and told me to wait in the lobby until I was called. I took a seat and saw a couple holding hands in front of me. They were watching T.V. and occasionally the guy would burst out laughing. I smiled. They were a cute couple. On the left of me was a girl who looked no more than 20 years old. She stared at the T.V., but never laughed. Not even during the funny parts. I continued watching T.V. until the nurse called my name.

I walked into the other room and knew the procedure. I took everything out of my pockets and got weighed. I had lost four pounds. The nurse gave me a small container to pee in and told me go inside the bathroom. I took a pee, left the container inside, washed my hands, and stared at myself in the mirror. I stood there for a few minutes. Then I began to cry. I don’t know why. After, I washed my face, walked to another room, and waited for the doctor.

She was petite and had a friendly smile. She asked the usual questions: Are you on any type of medication? Are you experiencing any type of symptoms? How many sex partners have you had since your last check up? I told her that I was not on any type of medication and I didn’t know what were symptoms of HIV. She started explaining a few symptoms and I just nodded. I really just wanted to leave. She then asked how many sex partners I had in the last year and suddenly I became sad. I told her I didn’t know. It was a pretty rough year for me. She told me to make an estimate, so I did. I had never lied to a doctor before. She made a note, walked toward the door, and said the nurse would be there shortly to take my blood.

I waited quietly for the nurse. She walked inside and told me to extend my right arm so she could take my blood. I did as I was told and looked the other way. I didn’t want to see her or the needle. I had always been afraid of seeing blood. As, I sat there staring at the wall, I thought about the first time I got tested and how scary the experience had been. I thought about the time I found out I had gonorrhea and the embarrassment I felt telling my partners. I thought about how much I hated taking the pill to get rid of it. I thought about how I could recall the number of sex partners a few years earlier and how I now couldn’t. I then felt a sharp pain on my arm. I never was used to the needle. The nurse told me it would be over soon. I said okay and continued looking at the wall. Time had never moved more slowly in my life.

Once done, the nurse gave me condoms and told me to check out in the front. I walked to the receptionist and she said that the clinic would call if the results showed anything positive. I thanked her and quickly walked to my car. I sat there and looked at the bandage that the nurse put on my arm and touched it lightly. The pain was gone. There was nothing I could do now, but wait to get my results. And for a small moment, everything seemed alright. I started the car, hid the bag of condoms in the glove compartment, and drove home.

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My Short Poem About Life

I don’t think anybody really knew me. But then again, I hardly think anyone really cared. This is a poem of my short  life. And by the time you read this. It will probably be too late. But I really did try. Here is my poem:

“They thought he was a joke. So they laughed.

They thought he never replied. So they left.

Maybe it was all for the best.

He lived another day. No matter how hard he resisted.

He lost everything. Even happiness left.

He should have hugged it one last time.

No one knew why he never returned.”

Hard to believe. But perhaps my life was meant to be short.

“No flowers, no funeral, no nothing.”

 

UPDATE: I would first like to thank all of you for the supportive comments. I did not expect much of anything when I published this post. I truly apologize for making people worry about my life. That was not my intention. I really didn’t think anyone cared. I was just feeling pretty lousy with life. I do want to say, that what I published yesterday was how I felt at some point in my life, so I don’t want to dismiss those feelings of sadness, isolation, and rejection. Funny, after I published my post, my best friend sent me a message. She doesn’t know about my blog, but she finally wanted to talk with me. And that was enough for me to keep going. I decided to change the format and the post out of convenience for everyone. Once again, thank you for being there for me. I really do appreciate the support and lovely comments. Thank you.

– Eddy

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The Night My Life Changed: An Introduction

So it began. The night that turned everything in my life around. I don’t know how it happened, but in some strange way, I kind of anticipated it. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s the kind of feeling you get when you’re walking home on a quiet night after a long day of doing good and you suddenly stop, look at the stars, and you can’t help but smile. Or when you’re wandering around a big city during the peak hours of the day and you can’t help but feel like you belong. You feel good and anticipate more. I was once told that in life, the things that make an impact in our lives will randomly come. They will hit hard. And maybe, just maybe, they will last a life time. I’m sorry to say that this event didn’t last a life time.

Ten days earlier, I had spent my 21st birthday alone in my room. I don’t know why. I had a lot to celebrate. I was going  to graduate with my AA degree in a few days, move to San Francisco in a few months, and live the college life for two whole years. But none of that mattered. My birthday hadn’t meant anything to anyone in such a long time. I wished myself a happy birthday and continued on with my life.

The impact of being 21 wouldn’t register until months later, for now, I was back to my daily routine of finding potential friends online. For every ten messages I sent, I would get a reply from one or two guys. The rejection was brutally painful and the process dangerously lonely.

To be honest, I had no idea of who I would talk to that night. I was only trying to cure my boredom. It’s surprising how a single message could change your life, but that’s what happened. I mean, I didn’t know it in that instance. And I guess that’s what made his appearance into my life that more special.

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My Complicated Life (A Satire)

I complicate my life too much. Honestly.

I don’t mean to make things complicated. Things just turn out that way.

If I wasn’t so reluctant to publicize my life to friends and family, I would have updated my relationship status to “It’s complicated.” My 2 year on-and-off relationship would have ended the day after my ex and I met for sex, but it didn’t. Instead I chose to seek him, love him, lose him, seek him again, fight for his love, lose interest in him, have him seek me, regain interest in him, love him again, lose him again, and complicate my life even further. I had it all wrong. I thought drama sought me, but I seem to seek drama.

All my life I wanted to be spontaneous and fun, or at least have an exciting life, but this fantasy just complicates my life. Fun and spontaneous means going to random clubs and drinking until I black out, but mix in my sexual provocative behavior (grabbing and kissing random strangers) and you will have a story to tell during our sober interactions. I will then assure you that I am not a wild party animal because…I really am not. I just don’t know other ways I can be fun and spontaneous. I complicate my life without knowing just how complicated I make it. You see, I have mistaken drama with fun and that always complicates things.

And if you want to start a relationship with me, I will convince you that I am not ready to start dating but get angry when you don’t want to date me. Heck, I will even tell you that I am not looking for sex, but I will have naked pictures ready and be fine if you ask to have sex with me. I’m not complicated. I just make things complicated.

Want to be my friend? I hope not. You will have to text me at least once a week or I will get angry at you for not replying. I may even forget about you. But I will tell you that you shouldn’t get mad at me when I don’t text you because “I was just too busy.” I will treat you as if you and I were in a relationship because being in a real relationship is just too hard for me right now. Instead, I will complicate our friendship.

My complicated behavior isn’t limited to friends and boyfriends. Nope. If you’re a family member, I will love you from a distance because that’s how we always did it. I will make an appearance during big holidays or special events in our lives, but I’ll be on my own most of the time. I will say I’m happy even though I know that you know I am not. I won’t be completely honest with my feelings or my relationship because you just aren’t ready to hear my truth.

My truth: My first relationship fucked me over. I have trust issues now. I seek attention from guys. I fear yet want a relationship. I sometimes distance myself from my friends because getting too close to someone can go wrong. My fear of disappointing my family over my sexuality keeps me from being completely honest with them. They won’t be able to understand me.

Dang, I honestly complicate my life too much.

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My Dating Life

I am destined to be single. End of story…Well kinda.

I want to talk about my dating life.

I’ll start by telling you that I have a bad past. When I first started coming to terms with my sexuality, I was having a lot of meaningless sex with guys I met on gay dating sites or Craigslist (go ahead and judge). I met these guys discreetly. I was just a random hook up, a mediocre at best and a lousy one at worst. See, back then the idea of being in a relationship was hard for me to understand.

After a few years of discreet hook ups, I met my first boyfriend (at least, that’s how I would like to describe our relationship). We met, had sex, and continued talking on-and-off for two years. The reason being, he was in an on-and-off relationship with his boyfriend of five years (I found out nine months into our relationship). I have a bad habit of getting myself into bad situations. We stopped talking months ago and now I’m officially single.

To be honest, I’m scared of being alone, but aren’t we all? I just don’t want to go back to the meaningless sex. I never want to feel like an object to be used for sex ever again.

I have gone on a few dates. Each ending with the guy being recently single and not ready to start a relationship, only wanting sex, showing no interest, or living too far from me. I’ve been using Grindr, OkCupid, Adam4Adam, and Jack’d, but I can’t seem to find a “single” guy in Orange County who wants a relationship. I don’t know what to do anymore.

I have condensed my search to taller, older, nerdy, white guys. I can’t help it. I think they are just the cutest! I’m attracted to their sense of entitlement, pale skin, travel stories, and vastly different ways in which they grew up compared to me. It took many years to develop this preference. And many heartbreaks. But I’m a bit closer to knowing the type of guy with whom I want to start a relationship.

My best friend once said that I’m smart, funny, caring, and genuine. And I believed her. Until I realized that there isn’t a guy out “there” who wants to be with me. I guess it was just her job to lie in order for me to feel better.

I’m not sad or depressed. I’m actually in a very exciting point in my life. I would just like to share these moments with someone. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Are guys really only interested in looks? I guess I’ve never been “sexy,” “hot,” or physically attractive enough for this gay world (or the world in general). I forgot that’s all gay guys want in the end. I don’t mean to sound so negative. I’m normally not. Honest. But lately, I’ve just given up. And I’m tired of trying.

I mean…I have dreams. I have goals. I have a job and on my way to having a great career working with adolescents and children. I have ambition. I want kids in the future. I want to get married eventually. I’ve never cheated. I find the idea of an open-relationship morally wrong. I don’t care much about looks (heck, I have a hard time knowing what pieces of clothing match). Are my values just different from many guys? Why can’t I find a guy who wants what I want? I guess I’ve just been trying too hard to find Mr. Right.

I just want a guy who will like me as much as I like him. One we is curious to know more about me and will ask me as many questions as I ask him. One who will randomly call me because he wants to talk and will stay awake late at night to text me even though he has to wake up early for work in the morning. One who enjoys going to the beach or staying home to watch a Batman movie. One who likes to cuddle and kiss. One who isn’t afraid to share his feelings and doesn’t hesitate to hold my hand. One who laughs at my corny jokes and tries to make me laugh. One who will let me into his life. But who am I kidding? I’m just being unrealistic.

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My Boring Life

I always wanted my life to be fun. The type of fun others defined for me. The party life, the fun life. I used to daydream about having a life where I would party with friends all night and drink more than my body could handle. I would dance promiscuous in clubs, make out with many guys, and have plenty of crazy stories to tell the next morning. What a fun life. A life I lived.

To be honest, I have my share of crazy party stories. I’ve drank and thrown up in front of my friends several times. I’ve blacked out and woken up in random places. I’ve gotten in fights while drunk and woken up with bruises. I’ve grinded on many gay guys. I’ve done more sexual things in clubs than legally allowed. I’ve danced shirtless and on poles. I’ve flirted with straight guys. I’ve made out with straight girls. I’ve gotten home way past 5am on several occasions. I’ve been an angry drunk and a fun drunk. I’ve accidentally snorted coke and forgot the nights events. I was roofied once. I’ve been date raped, and refused to accept it. I’ve cried many times in the bathroom while my friends were outside drinking. I’ve fucked up plenty and there’s no denying I’ll fuck up again.

I’m not not regretting what I’ve done or say I will never party again. I just want you to know that I’ve cried a lot during those two years of partying, drinking, and having random sex. That type of life can really mess you up.

I tried to convince myself that drinking was fun. I tried to pretend the people I met in these clubs and bars were my friends. I tried to convince myself that I was in a “real” relationship. Most of all, I tried to convince myself that I was a fun person, but I’m not. I’m done with the party scene and I’m done lying to myself.

Truth is, I’m boring, but I like being boring.

I like watching a random movie at home with my family. I like going to the beach and listening to the sound of waves by myself. I like running alone at night and taking long walks during the day. I like admiring the view while my friends drive long-distances. I like watching people as I take the bus or train to my destination. I like listening to House music or love songs when I need to escape my reality. I like having small dinners and spending hours talking with my friends.

I like my life. No matter how boring it may be.

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Reclaiming Love: The First Monologue About My Life

I don’t know why I said yes to presenting my story to a random audience, but I’m glad I did.

I’m a shy person with a really soft-spoken voice. You will have to ask me to repeat myself a few times before you’re able to understand what I had just said. It’s that bad. So instead I stay quiet hoping nobody will talk to me. I think that makes me socially awkward.

My public speaking skills are terrible too. I sometimes leave my hands in my pockets throughout the presentation and don’t remember to take them out until the very end. I think that gives away my inexperience with public speaking. Or possibly when I start talking fast, start stuttering, or begin rambling; one of the three.

One day I was asked by a coordinator of a Men Can Stop Violence program at school if I wanted to present “my story” for an event called Cocktales. The name sounded funny and I told him that I didn’t have a story, but that I was interested. He said there was something about me that made him think there was a story. I think being one of two men in a classroom of 28 women made me an easy person for him to recruit for his event. Who knows?

A few days later I received an email with details of the event. The event was about “Creating a space [for men] to talk about masculinity. Men can begin to hear other men’s real stories about their journey from recognizing privilege to emotional pain and ultimately finding peace within themselves”. The theme for that year was Reclaiming Love. The email listed topics about love such as: unconditional love, self love, forgotten love, love to a parent, loving the feminine, indigenous love, loving yourself, and a bunch more. I didn’t know what topic to choose, so I picked a few and met with the coordinator.

Over the next couple months we went over “my story” and began narrowing the topics down. I was excited to be writing about my experience with love even if it was limited. I was pouring my heart out into this monologue to the point where I had to stop writing because I would begin crying in the library. I had never presented a story of myself to an audience, so I didn’t know how much I wanted to tell. I was naive and told a lot more than I should have.

On the day of the event I was nervous to say the least. We had rehearsals a few days earlier, but I needed more than one day to prepare. To tell you the truth, I’m the type of person who has to remember his presentation word-for-word even if it takes me days to remember. I was so frightened to present that I kept pacing back and forth backstage trying to rehearse my lines. I kept on going to the bathroom more times than I needed and the guys kept on looking at me strangely. They told me to relax and that I would be fine. I was sweating so much, but managed to calm down before they called my name.

Here is my monologue:

By the end of the night, many people came and told me what a heart-felt performance I gave. And to be honest, it really was from the heart. I told them a story of myself that I didn’t know people could relate to or cared to hear. I surprised myself and even my friends who showed up to support me. For that night, I wasn’t that socially awkward person or that person who was scared of speaking in public. Somehow I felt confident for having the strength for telling the audience a person story of myself. I felt proud and smiled the rest of the night.

My family doesn’t know that I gave this monologue and perhaps now is the time to tell them.

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My Life….Censored

I’m in a better place in life right now, a much more peaceful place.

The months after graduating from San Francisco State have been chaotic to say the least. I have behaved in certain ways that shocked me. I have said certain things that I shouldn’t have said. I thought things that many people would consider morally wrong. To tell you the truth, I just lost control of myself, but I’m taking it back now.

I remember having a conversation with my best friend about me one night (something I rarely do). She told me she was concerned about certain things I have done in my life to the point where she considered ending our friendship. She hoped that I would change once I realized that the things I do affect the people in my life. I didn’t know what to say. I felt hurt. So I began telling her the story of my childhood. I told her about my parents, my brothers, the teasing, the fighting, the crying, the neglect, the hiding, the frustration, the anger, and the pain. I cried. I’m glad she didn’t end our friendship that night.

I have been thinking about what I’ve gone through the past few years and how much of these stories I have shared with people. To be honest, I probably shouldn’t be sharing everything that I have gone through. You will criticize me (I know you will).

I can tell you the confusion about my sexuality and being neglected as a child played a major role in how I behaved. I have woken up naked in a house with three random strangers (I’ll let your imagination fill in the blanks); I have walked drunk for hours in the rain at two in the morning because I wanted to sleep next to my ex; I have had sex in the house and cars of random men in order to fill a certain void in my life; I have been drunk way too much and have had many panic attacks; I have been a stalker and stepped over many boundaries; I have deliberately made others feel bad about dating me; I have demanded instant replies to my texts and calls;  I have been way too clingy and needy; I have made fake dating profiles to get information from people; I was playing a role in my head and I lost touch with reality.

My best friend once said that I was fully aware of my actions (I really wasn’t), that I understood the consequences (I really didn’t), and that I was able to reflect and explain the reasoning for my behavior really well (I just rambled). She didn’t understand how someone with a psychology degree could behave so destructively. She was concerned about the risks I put myself through and didn’t want me to throw my life away. She was right.

I realized that I had put my life at risk far too many times and I need to change. I also realized that I have to maintain a certain image in the field that I am wanting to go in, so I should learn to censor myself. I’m 23 and I have made plenty of mistakes in my life. I have way too much to learn about myself and about people.

Perhaps the time isn’t right for me to tell the most darker parts of my life. Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you about the events that almost lost me a friend. Perhaps a glimpse of my life is enough for you right now.

I have been busy volunteering and attending workshops. I took my behind-the-wheel driving test and passed. My best friend and I are becoming closer than ever. Reality hit me and now I’m at a peaceful place in my life.

If you like what you see, feel free to make a donation to my Paypal. Any amount would be appreciated. Thank you and have a wonderful day.

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My Life And The Bloggers In It

To tell you the truth, I never really expected anyone to care about what I wrote on my blog or to get many positive comments. I really didn’t. I wrote because I knew I would have the option to click on my posts, read them, and go back to a period of time in my life. Times where I was happy and times were I was sad. I’ve been doing that lately. I know later in my life I will see certain events differently or completely forget certain memories because memories really do fade away. So I’m glad that you’re here with me because you’re giving me a new reason to share. I write because I want you to know my story and I appreciate you reading my blog. No joke.

A few bloggers have told me that they like my style of writing (that’s the first time I’ve been told I have style). I have also been thanked for sharing stories that are so personal. Honestly, I didn’t know how personal my stories were until I was told they were very personal and I don’t think I will ever change that about my blog. All my posts (except for this one) have taken me days to write because I really do want you to understand how I felt during that moment in my life. A few bloggers have shared similar experiences that remind me that sometimes we go through the same things.

I get happy when I see a notification and see that it’s a comment from a blogger that has something nice to say about my post. Those are the best. So what I want to do is ask you all a question (well a few questions actually).

Which is your favorite post of mine and why? What is it about my blog that you like the most? What would you like to know more about?

As for me, my favorite posts would have to be:

“The first relationship of my life” because I’m still recovering from the emotional effects and it takes me back to a time were I was so naive and in love at 21 years old.

“My life in blog” because it’s my first post and I have a thing about “firsts.” Also, the positive feedback I received from that post gave me the motivation to continue writing more.

And

“The brother who left my life” because I never expected to publish that story on this blog. I was literally scared of exposing that side of myself. You were the first people to hear about that event in my life. Two days later, I told my best friend and I remember crying in the car. It was something special really.

Those are three of my favorite. I hope I hear more from all of you. I’m really curious to know what makes people click on the like button. I really have no clue. I think my posts are too simple to be considered well-written or engaging. They are just simple posts from a simple guy.

If you like what you see, feel free to make a donation to my Paypal. Any amount would be appreciated. Thank you and have a wonderful day.

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