I get so incredibly depressed about a life I involuntarily inflict upon myself, that I have finally admitted defeat and let the Internet's blogging fashion assimilate my thoughts. So here goes.
My life seems to be saturated in hypocrisy and irony, all emanating from me.
For example, I do so hate people asking me if I'm gay or not. My answer is irrelevant - they will always think I am (I'm extremely camp...and gay) - but I always answer 'no' which will of course just lead to more people asking me, because every individual (regardless of what they've been told) needs, for some reason, individual assurance that I'm not.
Funny, isn't it? If someone said 'Oh, no, he's not gay' then they'd still ask me for confirmation. If someone said 'Yeah, he's gay,' everyone would settle for that without question.
Not a day goes by without someone asking me if I'm gay or not. Should I be going out at night to enjoy myself the number can sky rocket to 6-7 people asking me, all of whom I've usually known since being 12, but, through a mixture of alcohol dissolving their inhibitions and my increase in age, they feel they can finally pop the question - "Are you gay?" or, the classic, "I did always wonder, but you're not, right?" Naturally the answer is invariably 'no' and naturally they pretend to believe me.
So if I'm not happy with this situation, why not participate in the alternative - answering 'yes'? Sadly, perhaps tragically in some people's opinions, I'm quite happy with life ticking over at the moment with everyone around me pretending that they believe I'm not. It keeps life a lot simpler, whereas coming out would be my life's equivalent of Katrina. And throw in Rita whilst you're at it.
I have pondered that perhaps I'm excessively anxious about something that I shouldn't be. However, I cannot bring myself to trust all these out-of-the-closet gays who live in some Utopia. All those who are accepted by their family and not just their duty-bound eternally loving mother but also fathers and brothers. And they all seem to follow the principle that if someone cannot accept that you're gay then perhaps you shouldn't have them as a friend or family member. Easy as that. Puh-leese.
And what advantages would I gain from coming out? Self confidence? I doubt it. Everyone assumes I'm gay anyway, telling people wouldn't make me any more confident. Inner peace? Hardly, I'm not so shallow that being gay is my only problem. In fact, coming out would most likely just present more.
Sometimes it's easier to just recoil into a fantasy whereby I can run away from here, go and find a lovely gay partner and lead a lovely gay life and start completely fresh. Wonderful. Of course, even if I could fulfill the running away part, due to a large number of insecurities regarding my body, finding anyone would not be achieved. So, in essence, I'd just be running away from a problem (or two) I ultimately cannot run away from in the first place. Not so wonderful.
Alas, my rant must end. I must enter my suit into the dry cleaners for a wedding on Saturday. I'll try and remember how many people ask me if I'm gay or not and post it. Given my family will be surrounding me I doubt too many people will ask, to save me (but more importantly, themselves) the embarassment.