The App

   Do you ever feel your friends get you to do things that you don’t really want to do? Very passive aggressive, not so many words but they get their way and, some time later, you regret following their advice because you realize it was all a big trap? Well, that happened to me and I felt like an idiot after realizing it was all just a way to get me out of my comfort zone.

 You see, I wasn’t planning on going out with anyone. And when I said that I mean, for a long time. I just wasn’t interested in having to be with anyone, sexually or romantically. See? I wrote, “having to”, because to me it’s still an imposition. I’m still without couple but things shifted a bit when my friends convinced me to download this new app for my cellphone. I’m gay, so I thought I was an expert on apps to check out people on the phone. And yes, I do mean that as a stereotype that is actually the truth.

 Well, anyway, they convinced me to download it and we spent a whole afternoon lying around like idiots just putting yes or no to many pictures until the app decided to stop us from keep doing that. Normally, I would have left it at that. Every time I download an app, I normally erase it from my phone days later because I find it not only boring but also such a fucking lie. I mean, let’s talk here: does anyone not really mock people when looking at all those pictures with sunglasses on, upside down “selfies”, shirtless pictures and so many other classics of the internet.

 Anyway, I just went back home and have a good sleep, which I really need by the way, and the next morning I checked my phone, as I usually do. First my emails, then some social networks and finally I reentered the app realizing someone had written to me. I answered and we had a rather normal conversation, very uneventfully. I stood up to have breakfast and forgot all about it. That day, a Saturday, I spent some time home and then I went to the mall with my family to buy some new shoes and a shirt for the upcoming wedding of some cousin or something like that (I don’t really follow that part of my family).

 When I came back home I realized the guy had sent lots of messages and even pictures and many questions marks. I didn’t even acknowledge it properly and erased the whole conversation. I certainly didn’t need anyone like that near me and even less if I was consequent with my decision not to have any type of relationship with any man. And there were no exceptions or any kind of weaknesses from my part.

 The guy kept on sending messages and I just ignored him because that’s not the type of person that interests me, not even to chat with any day or to go out and have coffee. That maniac behavior is great if you want to be scared for life but I’m just not going for that. So I kept using the app because it was kind of an obsession to criticize people and I’m known among my friends precisely because of that. I’m the one that says what the others only think and I never care if I’m being to over the top or “mean”. I just like to be honest and if that means telling you you have a big nose or your shirt is too small or your pictures are one big fat lie, I’ll say it. It’s not like we know each other.

 So one day I was going through pictures and another guy hit me up. We bonded and chatted for hours and hours and he looked cute in a couple of pictures with no filters, really casual photos of him and his dog and him in a beach. He looked like a nice person so I decided to go for it and tell him to me meet for coffee. We did and I have to say I don’t regret it at all. He was such a nice person and we had a blast together, laughing at the same things, sharing interests and even learning a couple of new thing from one another. I have to concede it felt great to feel that again after so many years, to feel that connection with another person and just feel at ease with them.

 For the following two weeks, we saw each other fairly often. On the fifth date, we decided to go for cocktails and it was then when things got strange. In a moment, a couple of seconds in which I went out to call home to say I may be late, I could have swore I saw the guy that had sent me all those messages with question marks and so on. For a minute I was convinced it was him but I forgot about that quickly when I started kissing the other guy, whose name was John, and we walked around holding hands and just having a good time that night.

  Then, another Saturday, we decided to meet for beers at his apartment. As I’m no idiot, I knew what was going to happened so I shaved properly, I put on the nice clothes and tried to be my best self. No, I wasn’t thinking of anything serious with him. To be honest, it was all such a blast for me but I saw only as kind of a game that we were playing and that may end very soon. He wasn’t ready to have a new boyfriend, having broken up with one just two months ago, and I had never had a boyfriend but wasn’t going to begin like that. Just no.

 It’s stupid, isn’t it? But I picture my first boyfriend someone to be very special and me just knowing that is him. And I didn’t feel that with John. However we had a lot of fun and every time I remember those days, I smile because he was such a nice guy and had a great time in every sense possible.

 Anyhow, I took the bus and then it happened again. I was so sure one of the people on the bus was the creepy guy from the app. And this time it wasn’t something that happened fast and went. This time I was just two rows behind him and I couldn’t wait to get to my stop and physically run. I didn’t want to know if it was actually him. I just wanted to stop minding about the crazy guy and keep on with my date with this great guy. But I couldn’t, at least not for the whole ride to John’s home. The guy wouldn’t go out in any of the stops and I was staring to get nervous. But finally my stop came and, as I had pictured, I ran to John’s building and told him all about it.

 I know it’s very romantic or arousing to talk about a creep you think you saw in a bus, but I just had to tell someone in order not to feel crazy. He was very nice, gave me a beer and told me many guys can’t just get a hint and get obsessed with others. I must have looked even more scared than before because he went on saying most of them just stopped, after finding someone else to annoy so he was sure that would happen in my case.

 Then, again, I forgot all about my problems, because we started kissing and, minutes after, we had gone to John’s room, without the beers. It had been a long time since I had had any sex with anyone and, I have to say, it was awesome. Maybe that was precisely because I had nothing to compare with, a foul thing we all do, but I just though it was perfect. He was so tender and loving or so I felt and even when things got a bit rougher, he seemed to care about me a lot.

 I ended up staying the night. I called my mom past midnight to tell her that and me and John didn’t go out of bed until eight in the morning or around that. He had fallen asleep hugging me and that has been the only time I seriously thought two things: first, that he might be that person I would decide to have a serious relationship with. Second, that I was able to do things I didn’t know I could. For me, a hug is more personal than anything else. And John did all night, awake or asleep. And he also kissed me a lot and touched me and as a person with a poor self-image, that was huge for me.

 When putting on my clothes, I thought I really could like being in a relationship and could use to nights like that. We had some breakfast and bid farewell with a final kiss. In that moment, I didn’t know it was going to be the last time we saw each other. Isn’t that sad? It would be so nice if we knew when that’s happening but I guess that, as humans that we are, we wouldn’t be able to handle it.

 I walked slowly to the bus stop, thinking of the night. I was so distracted I didn’t see the man running at me. I only reacted to late, when he tackled me and put something in front of my face. He must have drenched it in some chemical because I felt dizzy fast and I passed out. To be honest, I think it’s great that I don’t remember anything that happened after that. When I regained consciousness, I was in a hospital. They had called my parents and I was too groggy to say or do anything.

 Days later, the doctors and I talked, in the presence of a policeman. I told him what little I remembered and they told me what they could conclude had happened: them man, which I recalled been the creepy guy from the app, had taking me somewhere and had raped me. They explained he could have told people I was drunk, for them no to get suspicious. I was left in a park and a homeless man had found me and called the police and an ambulance.

 They told me it was probable I would never remember anything and I thanked the drugs for that. I went back to my life but slowly and cut off every link that was too weak to keep holding. I erased all social network profiles, erased all apps from my phone and only played games in my computer. My friends visited me at home and asked about John but I didn’t know nor care. He had paid for something he hadn’t done but I wasn’t ready. And now, I might never be.

If I couldn't write, I would go insane

I used to like being naked a lot, taking pictures. I was rather popular for it. People would ask me why I did it. Well, here's why:

First, and I think I just realized this, I loved the attention. I had tons of pictures, good quality, up on Flickr. And people would mark them as favorites and even comment and I will important somehow. People would like me and that felt nice. At least at first.

With time that attention wears out. You just stop needing it or maybe you want more or different. I have no idea. The thing is I just stopped liking the attention. I had that account for five or six years. It was an important thing in my life, as funny as that may be.

I have to clarify: not all the pictures were nudes. I would upload "urban" shots too or maybe just portraits or whatever I found was nice to look at. I guess I wanted to make others see I had talent for something. Of course, I didn't. I'm a professional photographer and my "work" on Flickr lacked any real quality. I knew that all along and never really cared about it. It wasn't the point.

I would love to post one picture per week, normally I would post at the first second of a new day so the statistics would more accurately show how much a picture was liked. When I uploaded an urban view, a building or trees or whatever, the picture was not that well received. Maybe a couple of people would say "yay, it's great". And that was it.

But me, naked, showing maybe my ass or my penis (never an erection, mind you), was always received by what I can only call "critical acclaim". Of course this acclaim came from people I had never met, mostly men. All men to be honest. And they were all horny. I mean, I should be an idiot not to see it.

I used to be more naive, more innocent if you will. When I remember those times, I don't know if it was a good way to be back then or if I should've been more intelligent, more perceptive.

Like, when I was nineteen I think, I went out with this guy. Just cute, not really a beauty or anything but you know. We went to a gay café and chatted and kissed and I felt awesome. It wasn't muy first time kissing but it felt right and beautiful and all that shit. Any way, it ended soon after and I never really understood why. Why he behaved like he did, always distant and weird.

He was fucking (or being fucked, who knows) others, kissing others while dating me. He actually kissed another guy that same night I was in the café with him. Somebody would later tell me all of this and I just understood it all. I also understood men were not to be fully trusted as, it is true, a man always acts commanded by his dick first, then his brain. And it's even more real in gay men and they know this is true.

Many people judge me saying "Hey, why haven't you been to a gay parade? Have you really never been in one?". And my answer is simply because I don't believe in it. It's not a casual walk to just show how proud we are to be who we are. That's what is SHOULD be about. But it isn't. That parade has mutated to be many people's chance to just rub in the faces of everyone what they do with their lives. Well, good news: no one gives a flying fuck.

There are homophobes. Of course there are. But there are others that just don't care. They don't think twice if someone is sleeping with a man, a woman or a horse. They don't care. And I don't think that is a reason to be pushy and annoying. I am fucking gay and the only person I need accepting me is myself. If the world doesn't, believe me, I don't care.

There's no gay marriage, that does not exists. The only thing that does exist is two people who get together to sign a paper that says they must share everything and live together. That's it. It's nothing more than that. You're not selling yourself there, in any sense, and it shouldn't matter who does it. Who cares?

But I digress. I made those pictures, the naked ones. And all that attention and it felt nice for years, yeah. I don't like discos or whatever they all them now. I just don't, I feel like an octopus in Japanese restaurant. Just like that. I've gone to a couple and that was enough for me. So I was happy to have some guys attention.

But that faded away. I got bored. To be honest I'm bored and fed up with people every second of my life now but that made me even more bored. All those empty comments and no one coming to me in real life to say "hey, you cute". And before you give me shit, I say "coming to me" because I deserve that. I won't crawl to a guy simply because I won't give an inch of myself to someone who would just expect everything.

The thing with gay guys, and all guys I guess, is that you must test them. And no, that doesn't mean annoying them and being jealous 24/7. I mean asking them things, getting to know them for real. Just being interested to get to know the person, take time.

But no. Most people fuck after 24 hours of meeting, if not before. I'm not saying people should be nuns and monks but, come one, love yourself.

And then I started having problems with the Flickr people and they ended up closing my account. You know why? Because it happens I didn't only do those pictures for the attention. I also did them because they were like therapy for me. I have hated myself for too long and that outlet made me feel good about myself. I almost fully stopped having crazy crisis every month.

And, besides that, I personally think the human body is beautiful. I don't believe in a god so I say nature is pretty smart and resourceful. Just get naked in front of a mirror and stare at yourself. Take a good look at the details, not the superficial shit of society but your actual biologic body. It's a work of art, inside and out.

So, that ended for me. It stopped existing, that outlet, that I needed so bad for so many years. To be honest, when it ended, I said "Fuck it, I have something new now: writing". So around that time I started working on some small things and it all came down to this blog with which I have a really hard relationship.

Today, for example, I had more than five ideas. I couldn't write more that ten lines for each. I felt awful, like an idiot, because this is my thing, my only thing. And if I couldn't write, I would go insane. Simple as that.

Tomorrow

In his dreams, he had a perfect life, every night going to bed with the one he loved and doing what he wanted in life. The thing was that dreams left out the problem of financial instability, which was the biggest problem every person had in their lives. Not the relationships with others or the achievement or some dream or yearning, but plain and simple money.

He knew that every time he woke up and realized how it was not all that beautiful and calm, as in his dreams. In the real world, he still lived with his parents, had no prospect of finding anyone soon to have a love life or anything similar and, of course, money was not there.

He was prepared, meaning he had a career and further studies to say "I know a couple of things". But that was it. And apparently no one really cared. Every so often he would enter web pages to find a job, sent his CV to every single production company or creative group he read of and then waited. He couldn't do much more than that.

He had even sent his CV to major fast-food chains and retail stores, as he wanted money at least to buy himself a coffee every so often or for being able to pay a movie ticket at least once a month. But nothing. He thought he may have been overqualified for some jobs and under qualified for others. 

Besides, one had to remember how the creative world works: creativity is the least important aspect, ironically. There are no companies that hire someone for being creative. They hire people, anywhere, if they see they can use them some how. That's it. And most creative people don't let themselves be caught by that elegant form of oppression, so here you go. People then have to do things themselves and that takes much more effort and time.

Time... Something that seems to pass so fast. The boy we talk about has his school yearbook. One day, he decided to browse it after years of gathering dust on a shelf. He saw pictures of people he hadn't seen for a long time and then he saw his face on some of them and, for a moment, he wasn't able to recognize himself. It looked as he had age so much, although he had aged the same as every other person on that yearbook.

He then thought of the many faces he stopped seeing and wasn't surprised. He let it happen knowingly, as he didn't have the best memories of school. He had the yearbook as a memento his parents had bought for him but he wasn't keen of reading things people had written to him back them, knowing now how the friendships had fractured and, eventually, ripped apart. He knew he was to blame too, but that was the past.

He went for a walk after that to try to clear his head. He was thinking of useless things, such as the school and what hadn't happened. It was pointless. He walked for eight miles until his legs hurt and decided to sit down in a small park, away from any loud streets or sidewalks filled with pedestrians coming and going.

There he started daydreaming once again, believing there was something better out there. He knew that. But the problem was that many others wanted exactly the same as him: live a life doing the things they liked or knew how to do.

He wasn't a brilliant writer or anything but it came easy to him so that's what he wanted to do. He had no idea of real drawing, he hated numbers as he was incapable of understanding them and sports were not really one of his interests. So he only had writing to keep going. If someone took that away from him, well, he didn't wanted to know what would happen.

The young man checked his pants and realized he had some money so he walked a bit more to a mall. He got a coffee and something to eat with it. As he did, he looked at the many faces around and wished he could hear all of their thoughts. Was everyone as worried and hopeless he sometimes felt? Or were they really happy with everything, even when bad things happened?

That was his real need, his hobby if you will: just thinking on what people did and thought. Human beings were just amazing in horrible and excellent ways. People were capable of amazing deeds and also of such horror. And besides that, they have a large array of feelings and not everyone experience them exactly the same. That was what fascinated him and made his days go by a little bit smoothly.

He wrote every single day, no matter if he was inspired or not. He thought that even in a bad day, he could be able to write something great and even if it wasn't, an awful piece of writing could be the base of something much bigger and better.

The 26 year old man went back home and took off his shoes. He wrote about the people he had seen that day and what he thought of them, what he thought they might be keeping secret or the worries they had every day. Some were shallow and not very interesting but others were just a planet of opportunities and wonder.

It was not every day, but sometimes his parents would interrupt those thinking moments with a question like "Are you still looking?" or "You should be doing something". Of course he understood their worries, he was worried too every single day. But it hurt a bit to think they thought he was careless and only wanted to be a bum or something.

They wanted him to keep studying but he was done with that. He didn't feel he had any more to learn or at least not anything that was been taught anywhere. He had investigated schools and courses all around but they were all about what he had already learned and seen and he knew that so why pay big money to study the same thing again?

Of course he had interests beside writing but they thought of them as hobbies or just things he liked. Cooking was relaxing to him and photography had been extremely important to him at one time, but he didn't see those things as life choices. It would be a joke, he thought, to study cooking as he knew he didn't have many qualities needed to be a proper cook.

Same went for photography, with which he had a relationship that was now on a standby. He had used it before to overcome problems he had and to make him believe his world could be wider than he thought. But that was the past and now he felt a bit more mature and took things as they were. Evading himself from life wasn't the answer.

As he laid down in bed for one more night of sleep, he remembered he had had problems with himself, his self-esteem to be exact. It wasn't like he was done with that but he them now under control as his views had changed a bit but, of course, a problem like that doesn't just disappear. To be realistic, it never does. You learn to live with it and, after having a couple of breakdowns, he realized he needed to change the way he saw some things or he would get worse in a short time.

He finally thought of the love thing. That was a rather annoying subject he liked to avoid. In that moment of his life, he had no need or place for love. maybe for his family and friends but no place for that one person that is supposed to make you feel special. He couldn't afford, even if he believed in actual love, to have that right now. It would be the worst timing and it could only lead to unnecessary pain and he wasn't a masochist so why look for something like that?

Of course, he thought his life might improve and then he would be more open to love, if it were to happen. His self-esteem problems and thoughts on the world didn't really give him much hope to find someone that like him and no one else. It sounded a bit like an utopia.

To him, it was funny too how people thought doing things every second made them better, more prepared or prone to better things. It just meant they were active. And there are many ways to be active. People tend to forget there is more than one way to do something, even love.

But then again, like they said on a movie, tomorrow will be another day and no one knows what the future holds for anyone. It's a box full of awful and great surprises and even if we sit down and do nothing, the world will keep moving forward.

Life's surprises

After walking for a long time, my feet had started to complain. My legs were starting to stop working correctly too and, quite frankly, I was dying of thirst. Not just for walking more than 10 kilometers but because I had decided to wear a winter coat, thinking it was kinda windy.

Anyhow, I had arrived to a neighborhood I didn't really know although a friend of mine lived fairly close. I saw a strip mall across the street and decided to explore the place.

It was not a big place but had a lot of stores and bars and even a multiplex on the second floor. I had no intention of watching a movie, and also no money. I just wanted to have a drink an watch people go by. I would think about how to get back home later.

Finally, I found a coffeeshop. They had many types of smoothies with multiple flavors and additions but I have always hated places with far too many choices. I was thirsty. So I bought a simple passion fruit smoothie, just fruit and ice, nothing else. After paying, I chose a sit outside the place to check my cellphone and drink my juice. But I didn't.

I should feel ashamed o something but I didn't then and don't now. The reason I didn't check my phone was that I saw a guy, a very handsome one, cute if you like the word. He was sitting there with a male friend. I drank my juice as I heard what they were talking about.

Surprise: the subject was a girl. Ok. Hope she is cute as well at least. I know, nasty thing to think but, haven't we all done it? It's not that everything is about how you look but it would be a lie to say we only fall in love with our feelings. We all need something more earthly.

Anyway, the friend left and five minutes after the girl, I suppose she was the one they were talking about, arrived. She was not my type, that is if I had one, but she wasn't bad altogether. He kissed her on the cheek and she sat down. He offered to buy her a drink and she complied, asking for a cappuccino. He rushed inside, happy that she had agreed.

That's a don't guys. Girls are not really into guys that do things so easily. They are just to easy and most girls, not all, are into someone a little more layered, typically complicated. Alert for girls too: don't be to picky. You're not all prizes. Nasty? Not sorry.

Anyway the guy came back with the drink and the girl started a long and uninteresting one person conversation about her friends, and how one of them was marrying and all the details about the engagement. The guy faked being interested but it was obvious he was interested in her liking him, not much more.

Ok. I'm not saying he's looking for sex. Although most guys do, gays or straights, many other are looking for meaningful relationships. The bad thing is that those guys are scarce and they are usually found by bitches. Yes, that is the word.

She then started asking him about babies and marriage. From what I could understand and see, they were younger than me, possibly in their first semesters in college. The guy just asked her what she liked and she keep on going, like a parrot. Never mind being ugly, if you just cannot stop talking, you're less appealing than an Arctic walrus.

I stood up to leave but my legs trembled and my feet hurt like hell. And I hadn't figured out how to get back home so I just wen back inside and bought another smoothie, an orange one. I came back to my table and realized it was five in the afternoon. I had to go back before sundown, or traffic would never let me leave.

Time had passed and I did not realize the couple was now arguing. What had I missed? More babies? A car? Whatever it was, the girl was pissed and, good for him, the guy took a stand. For what I could hear, he told her he was sick of going out with her friends. He said he would always go to expensive places with her, places he didn't even like, just to please her. And always with a bunch of people he didn't even like.

She bursted into tears and, not only me, but everyone around was looking at them. She said that her friends were her life and that it was hard that he didn't like them. And then she added something that made me laugh, loud: "Sometimes I thing you just like me for my looks".

Now people looked at me. I faked reading something hilarious on my phone so people wouldn't stare and some did look the other way. He didn't. And my face turned into a red fleshy thing. I hated people when they stared that way, not angry but just, looking.

Their argument went on until the girl just stood up and left, without saying one more word. Fast enough, she grabbed her phone and called someone. A friend or a rebound guy? Who knows...

I finished my second smoothie and really felt like peeing. Besides it was late. On my wait to the restroom I confirmed on the phone that only one bus line passing nearby would take me home. So I went to the urinals, thinking about how much time it might take to get home.

Then he, the guy in the coffeeshop entered. I went to wash my hands and he did the same, washing his face slowly. I then dried my hands in the machine and was about to leave when I heard him saying: "She's not that pretty, is she?".

I turned into stone for a moment. No one had ever come to me and talked, just like that. It was really strange.

"Pretty maybe. Empty, for sure". Now he laughed and I smiled. I told him that, by the looks of it all, he was better off without her. He didn't answer. I said I had to go but then he did something guys do when they are really affected by someone: he asked me to go with him for a beer.

I refused. Surely he had friends to do that but he answered they had all taken sides and that he didn't wanted to discuss it further. He just wanted to drink and talk about whatever.

And so we did. Needless to say, I still talk to him and we have become the best friends... No, I'm lying. That's not exactly what happened. But let's just say he's fairly close and we still laugh about that day.