What the past is telling me

   I woke up sweating, trembling a bit even. I had just had one of those dreams about the past, but one that was distorted and made me feel even more lost that what I was back in school. I turned around and realized, relieved, that Paul was there. For a moment, I had thought I was all alone and had to calm myself down by myself, which was difficult because I would always go back to what had made me feel so uneasy instead of calming myself down. But with him there, his warmth and even his smell, the task would be much easier. I just moved closer to him and he moved, putting his arm around me without waking up. With only that, I was able to fall asleep again and, this time, I didn’t have any horrible dreams. It was all blank, just like I preferred it.

 Some hours later, we were having something for breakfast and he asked me about my dream. He said he had heard me wake up but that he had been so tired he had fallen asleep again very fast. I told him nothing and I don’t really understand why. Not only were we closer than ever now, he was one of those people that make you feel good just by being there. But somehow, I decided not to say anything, only that I did not remember anything about the dream, which was I lie. I don’t think he bought that but that didn’t matter. I knew he wasn’t going to start asking more and more questions. That wasn’t he’s style. We just kept eating and said nothing more about my dream or anything related to that.

 Instead, he told me that he really wanted me to go to his next performance in a bar not very far away from my place. Paul was a musician and played the bass in a band. It wasn’t a rock band but I don’t know that much about music so every time someone asks me about what he did, I would say he’s a rocker or that he plays the bass, which makes me sound horribly ignorant. But weirdly enough, he has always liked me to say things like that. I think that’s why we got along so well since the first time we talk to each other. He perceived me as crazy and I felt the same vibe from him. The night we met we kissed and had sex, which made me think I would never see him again. I was so wrong.

 Karma has a way of doing things, or maybe it’s meant to be or whatever… Anyway, the thing was that I saw him everywhere. Every time I went for a beer with my friends, he would be playing with his band there or in the next pub or something. We would run into each other and it was very uncomfortable until he told me that he had being wanting to get my number but couldn’t find me online. I laughed at that remark, possibly because I thought that was something very nice to do and I just gave him my number and from then on we have being close to on e another, without labeling our current situation. He’s not my boyfriend or anything like that. We just spend time together.

 Anyway, I kept the dream to myself. At work, it kept haunting me. Different to other dreams, I remembered everything about this one. The faces, what people said, everything that happened. It was difficult to get away from it and I decided to confront it and just tell someone.  So I went to my best friend and told her everything. But her reaction was not what I was expecting. She told me to explain to her what made me uneasy from the dream because she didn’t understand what it was. I explained to her that the dream dealt with many of my high school classmates and the fact that I had pissed my pants out of fear once when I was like nine or ten. She ten became very serious and told me that probably it was something I had never faced and now it had decided to come back.

 But I didn’t want that to come back. I had worked for many years and with no rest, in order to make myself into someone less sensitive to mockery and laughter and such. Back then, people were very cruel and had treated me in a wrong way and my solution had been to become someone tough, lonely and very sarcastic. It worked beautifully because, although people still talked about me behind my back, I decided I didn’t care and they just wouldn’t say a word. When I graduated, I thought that would be a big shell to pull off my back, but it wasn’t. I realized I needed again, because I had begun dating and I had entered the gay world, which is more complex and awful than people realized.

 I just didn’t want to dream about it again. Yes, I had decided not to confront it and maybe that was why things happened but why confront that and how? Yes, I had being laughed at but who cares? Who hasn’t? I refuse to say I was bullied because that feels wrong, it feels wrong to say it because there was never something as harsh as that… I don’t know. That following night, Paul didn’t come to my house because he had worked to do in his. I realized I had to spend my night alone and that made me think for hours and hours before I went to sleep. With Paul, he had sex and then we fell asleep but without him it was difficult.

 The following day, something happened that made me feel that something didn’t want me to forget about those damn times in school. I was in the grocery store, more like a supermarket, checking for jams and just turned my head and so one of the jocks from high school. Of course, he wasn’t a jock anymore, he looked a bit bigger, much more stupid that ever before, but it was him and I could hear his laughter like in the dream. That distraction was worth a jar of strawberry jam that I mistakenly put in the air instead of the shelf. I was so ashamed with the lady that had to come cleaning and with every single member of the staff of that supermarket. I just paid for the smashed jam and left almost running.

 I got home fast and just stayed there for the rest of the day. I asked for some Chinese food and tried to distract myself with a movie but I had already seen it and I just felt like crying, which I ultimately did. I was sobbing like mad all alone on my sofa and the only thing I could think off was about calling Paul, so I did. I sounded pretty congested when I talked to him and he noticed it right away. I asked him if he could come home for a bit but he told me he was still finishing his work and had so much more to do. He asked me to tell him what was going on over the phone but I just hung up on him because I was disappointed. I had wanted to pull my heart out for him and apparently work was much more important so I called my best friend instead.

 When she arrived, I paid for her taxi because it was late and she did not live close by. As soon as we entered my apartment, I began crying again and just told her everything, how bad it felt that I had to hide my feeling just because some stupid fucking kids had been mean to me for doing something that was normal and for being afraid. They didn’t understand that I felt intimidated by them because they were all friends and I was the new kid that no one wanted to talk to because it felt as if had brought the plague to the school. I didn’t wanted to be popular or anything, I just wanted to fit in and they just gave me the fucking finger.

 And it had been like that for years and year afterwards. People always thinking I had nothing to say or nothing to share and they just put me aside. In college, it was so much better but then it was guys, because I had to like them and felt like shit because the gay fucking world is shallow and they only care if you looked good and I just had a low self-esteem and that didn’t help at all. No boyfriends in several years and the only guy I had met that met something had just refused to come to my home and spent some time with me, when I had been the one to go to his fucking concerts and support him every single time. I was disappointed, hurt and confused by it all.

 My friend took my hand and told me that what I was doing was necessary, to vent all my frustration out and realize what was really bothering. And that was that I felt I needed more than what I have been given. She thought that I had tried so hard to be away from people not to get hurt, that now my need for a human touch was greater that it could have been before and the person that I felt something for was just not there. We were nothing. Not that I needed a boyfriend but I needed commitment more than a name. And, apparently, Paul wasn’t the one to give me that. Besides, we were not “exclusive” and I knew there was at least another guy around. And now that I cared for him so much, it bothered me.

 She stayed the night and we watched movies and ate ice cream. Luckily it was a Thursday, so I could get to work late and my friend had her day off. We talk about her life too, her boyfriend and her crazy mother and I realized that she was one of the things I had always wanted from life: a true friend. I just needed to be a better one myself and realize what was else I needed and wanted for myself, because no one else would do it for me.

Know thyself

-       So she broke up with you because you lost your job?

Erick nodded, still drying his tears from before. His best friend Juliette paced in front of him, in his room. He had finally come out of his bedroom covers and Juliette had forced him to open the curtains. Now, all that was left was to talk.

-       I don’t get it…

-       She…

-       Not that. Why did they fire you?

Erick gulped down some orange juice Juliette had brought him and looked to a point by the window, probably remembering the moment he had been fired.

-       They said I was too focused on my personal life.

Juliette smiled.

-       So you lost your job because of her and left you because you lost the job she made you loose?

 Again he nodded and he started crying again. This time, however, Juliette did not try to stop him from doing it. Why would she? He had been the one guilty of his firing and that was the real tragedy in all of this. Nothing else mattered, not even that silly brunette.

-       I love her.

-       No, you don’t.

-       I do!

-       You’re obsessed with her. And frankly, I don’t see why.

-       She’s smart and beautiful.

-       No, she’s not. She’s a fucking bitch.

 Erick stopped crying and lamenting himself. He stared at her friend, confused.

-       What? You really didn’t know she’s a pain in the ass? Always complaining, always thinking she’s better than everyone else because she has had money to travel the goddamn world?

-       I…

-       You didn’t know… My God!

Juliette had finally had it so she stepped out of Erick’s bedroom and went for the kitchen. It was very early but she knew he kept some alcohol in the house for parties. Right enough, she found a can of beer and drank half of it on one go. Erick came out of his bedroom and sat down in his sofa, just in front of the kitchen.

-       I didn’t know you hated her so much.

-       I don’t hate her. I don’t know her that well.

-       But you…

-       I just don’t like her attitude. She comes off as arrogant and preachy; always thinking her way is the one to go. And she’s not that smart.

-       Why do you say that?

 Erick’s friend had another big sip of beer and looked at the can instead of him when speaking.

-       She thought your birthday was in February.

-       It’s in August.

-       I know. She also said that day in the gallery she did not know what all the fuss was with all that “homosexual art”. She said it was wrong to give them too many liberties.

-       But that was Alex’s expo.

-       I know.

-       And she’s gay.

-       I know!

-       Why would she say that?

-       Not smart. Told you.

For a while, they did not say another word. Juliette was busy trying to know what to say next, hopefully helping her friend and putting him in the right path towards a fast recuperation from all of this and for him to begin to worry about the job, which was the biggest lost he had suffer. However, Erick was still thinking about his former girlfriend, remembering every single time they had been together. It had been a nice ten months, in which he had lots of fun. They had laughed together and enjoyed nice moments but now he realized he had been in the presence of several comments and things she did or say that hadn’t shocked him back then but now they made more sense.

-       What are you thinking?

-       She didn’t like dogs.

-       Oh…

-       And she didn’t like any of you.

Again, Juliette smiled.

-       I knew that.

-      She always told me, in very well thought words that all of you weren’t really funny or nice to be with. But I didn’t realize what she was really saying until now.

-       It’s ok. You’re not the first person to hook up with a crazy woman.

-       But it is my first time.

 Juliette did not know what to respond to that. She finished her beer, threw the can away and sat down by Erick. She had been friends with him for over ten years now and she had seen him in every single state one can imagine a person to be. She had seen him immensely happy and also very sad. Excited, crying, yelling out of rage, insane… They were friends and she just wanted him to be all right.

-       You’re worried about the job, right?

-       I think it’s the most important thing right now.

-       Maybe… But to tell you the truth I was getting tired to be there.

-       You made great money.

-       But it was the job my dad had found for me thanks to his buds in the business. I want to make something of my own.

-       That’s great but how? Work by demand?

-      Maybe. I don’t know… I was beginning to do things there like a robot, just like the same thing over and over again and I…

-       Are you sure?

Erick looked straight and his friend’s eyes.

-       Of course. I know that you think that because of what happened I’m trying to find an excuse for it but I really didn’t feel right working there anymore.

-       That doesn’t matter anymore. Now it’s all-new again and you can decide what to do and what not do, in every sense possible. If you want to look for a different job, I guess it’s only a matter of finding it. It’s hard but you’ll get there.

-       And about…?

-    That can wait. You don’t have to be with someone to feel you’re worth anything. Actually, it’s when you’re single that you realize how much you can do and what are your strengths, your weaknesses.

-       You really think so?

-       You have to know yourself before getting it on with someone else. I think.

They smiled at each other and then they did something they did not do very often: they hugged. They then talked a bit about Juliette’s life but she didn’t want to take all the attention to herself. She told Erick she had to go to her mother’s, so that could be his first time alone and thinking about his future. Or better, not to think about anything and just enjoy himself in his place.

 Juliette left and Erick decided to try and have a nice day. He downloaded a couple of movies he had always loved, he decided to have a shower first and in the shower, he realized he wanted Chinese food for lunch so he ordered that when he was still holding his towel by the waist. In the bathroom again, after brushing his teeth, he took off the towel and took a look at himself. His eyes were read and his skin was pale, lifeless. He needed to get some sun too but maybe he could leave that for the next day.

 His delivery arrived fast and he received it in his boxers. Just like that, he sat down on his bed, by the laptop, and watched the first movie, an animated one. At one point he cried, but because of the movie and not what he had gone through. Actually, the next time he thought about his ex was the following morning when she called him on his cellphone. But he didn’t answer the call and decided to go have breakfast with Juliette.

 Eventually, he would find a job and maybe a new girlfriend. But Erick had learned that he had no idea who he really was, not entirely at least. And he wanted to know desperately before anyone else. If he didn’t, life just couldn’t be lived properly and what’s the fun in that?

A story of nudes

   I wanted to make myself visible. I had to do it in order not to feel imprisoned in the shadows, away from all that happened in the world. I needed to feel alive and wanted. So I started taking pictures using the few notions I knew of photography. At first, they were only pictures I had taken for assignments. They could be qualified as casual but also as artistic. I didn’t wanted them to be just pictures but also proof of what my life was like. So everywhere I went, I carried the camera. My father had bought me one and the moment I got it in my hands I started shooting. Every interesting plant, every nice sunset, every park or animal. I would take pictures of everyone of those and more.

 But at one moment I needed to do something else, something others were not doing and by others I meant the people around me. And the answer was obvious: nude pictures. No one was daring to do them. Was it maybe because I was twenty years old? Or was it that people are generally afraid of their own body? Who knows? But what I did know was that I needed a way out, a way to feel like myself, even if I had to do it all alone. I had tried dying my hair blue, changing my clothes, just being different from who I had been the past years, the last ones of school and first ones of college. I needed something to be only mine.

 So the first picture I took naked was of my legs. I wasn’t actually naked but it was the beginning of that time for me. I tried different tricks with lights and editing in various ways. I also took some shirtless pictures, never revealing my face. After all, everything that goes into the Internet may never be truly erased. People were going to see me and, even as much as I wanted to be out there, I wasn’t ready to show my face.

 With those first pictures, friends and other acquaintances praised my attempts for a more personal photography. They liked the way I edited my pictures and how I posed in them. After all, they were very personal and did tell tales about me to people. I was very happy to see that they were liked. Not universally but, after all, I was just learning. I didn’t wanted to be a photographer and did not pretended to be one. But I was learning so much about it that I immediately felt fascinated for an art that I had never truly reflected about.

 Back then; I liked it because it was something I could do alone. I love cinema but that needs a team to become a reality. I’ve never cared about the making of music so that wasn’t really an option and my hands are not made for the subtle and gentle work of a painter or a sculptor. No, it had to be photography. How the camera felt, the various shots to get the one I loved, the experiments I did based on what I was learning. It was all so attractive to me and, to some extent, it still is.

 I took the following step almost a year after opening a public Internet account to show my pictures. I had put on flowers, landscapes, sites, and my headless body. So the next step was showing more. I decided to show my face but not my penis. I didn’t want it to be the center of attention, not that it is anything special. But human nature is always governed by the animal feelings and it is obvious that people looking at a naked picture will always stare first at the genitals and then see the whole picture. We all do it and there’s nothing wrong with it but I wanted that distraction out so I took all pictures covering it or cropping the picture just right or even just turning around and showing my butt instead.

 Comments started pouring on the website. They were all very kind and many even racy, which I appreciated too. Friends and others were not as enthusiastic, rather focusing on the fact that I was naked and not so much on the pictures as such. They asked me if I wasn’t afraid of showing my face naked in public but I answered that there was nothing people could do with those pictures to me. They couldn’t threaten me because I had taken the first step. I’m not ashamed of my decision and I stood by it. And if someone sent one of them to my parents, as improbable as that would be, I would acknowledge my art and leave it at that.

 I have to clarify myself, though. The pictures were also an experiment for something else. They were not just about experimenting photography and having an artistic outlet that I had lacked for a long time. It was also, nudity to be more specific, a way to make people see me and judge me. I wanted to put myself out there and be bombarded with comments, good or bad. For a long time, a very long time, I had dealt with insecurity issues and I felt nudity would help me with those problems. And it did.

 With those pictures, and seeing so many more taken by a variety of men, I realized I wasn’t hideous or awful. I understood that the wide range of body types is what makes the human body beautiful. Of course, being gay, there is a beauty standard as there is one for straight men too. But homosexuality is more focused on how you look and any gay man who says they had never had an issue with that is lying. We judge each other harder. Maybe it’s because of the stereotypes that had been imposed for years but there is a certain idea of how a homosexual man has to look like and just be. And that was why I needed those pictures. I needed to prove myself and others that I could be who I am and people would like that.

 Yes, I did to receive approval. And that was the rotten seed that I never really paid attention to. It slowly grew for all those years, more than six to be exact, in silence. Meanwhile, I was successful with my experiment. People liked the way I got naked. At one point, I decided to post one picture fully naked and it was clearly one of the more successful ones in the account. After that, I just kept experimenting: shadows, lights, colors, places… It was all about the body. I still uploaded some other types of pictures that I liked but people seemed to be not very interested in them. Back then, I started to notice mostly men were adding me as their friend and the number grew a lot during the years. I have no idea how many contacts I had in there but I know they were thousands. Yes, thousands.

 Then, people got bold and started to ask for types of pictures, even more revealing ones. I said no to all of that. I was going to make a porno picture just because people wanted it. It wasn’t what I was looking for, to arouse anyone. My goal of helping myself with the pictures was, I believed, successful. Oddly enough, it was a time I had no one to share my new securities with. That was when I realized there was something wrong. Why were they thousands of man complimenting me online but in real life not even one dared to say anything to me? I tried giving the first step and that was always a failure. I cannot remember how many failed dates I’ve had. All of the crumbling fast after just a few words have been exchanged.

 Then came the people that denounced my pictures on the site where I had them. Each time I uploaded a picture, I left it without any safety advice on in order for more people to see it. After all, it was a picture of the human body, not from a corpse, or sexual or a violent act. But no. People started pouring saying my pictures were not adequate for the website. A website that had thousands of users pouring in only to check out naked men and women. If there’s something that I hate is hypocrisy and that was just the best example of it I had ever seen.

 I finished college and the rotten seed then activated, still silently. My old worries came back. Every picture I took was mediocre next to the other older ones but I decided to ignore that and do something else with my life. I traveled, I did other stuff and I even did some new things with my pictures and people liked them but less than before. And the opponents were still there, trying to push me off the edge.

 When I came back home one day, I realized they had succeeded. My account had been erased. The details are not important but I then suffered a very great depression. The rotten seed had finally won, all because I had made the wrong decision years ago. I kept failing in life, the future looked pitch black and now, what had been my only creative outlet for years, had been erased permanently. I was angry and outraged but also sad and vulnerable. A failed attempt to have a relationship pushed me to an abyss, from which I barely came out.

 Eventually I found out photography had lost most of its appeal to me. I still like to look at them and appreciate them but I haven’t held my camera in some time. Selfies, sure. Artistic photos, not really. I also found myself another outlet, one you are witnessing right now. And, to be honest, I hope I never have to leave this one, as it keeps me going, as photography never did. It was a stage in my life but that is the past. The present is this and the future… Well, let’s hope it’s there.