First, some confessions. Feel free to skip.
So here's to hoping that Goose turns out to be a good guy (if he turns out at all - I have not heard back from him, although to be fair he did say he will be working long hours the following week). I'd be happy to keep with him and not find other guys for the same purpose as a second-best thing to a loving relationship.
But even if he did not love me, at least he showed the capacity to understand me far more so that anyone I'd met yet (as far as sexuality goes). He has crystallized in my imagination some very specific qualities I seek in a man: I am very attracted to power, and that does not necessarily mean muscle. Here is a scrawny guy who managed to obliterate me, and it is through his paradoxical nature that he managed to make me rethink my sexuality.
But the key here is that power to me is the expression of strength or influence that is tempered with an equal capacity for understanding or empathy. Very few people seem to be able to wield power as such.
There is a small amount of kind-hearted people who have lots of heart and little strength, and these are wonderful to have in one's life and I might even make love to them because of that, but they don't turn me on at my core.
There are also countless people who may at first appear powerful due to being physically built, for example, but who do not have a heart. Their words and actions quickly betray this and expose their lack of power, at which point their attractiveness begins to steadily decline, sometimes even inverting and turning into something revolting.
I forgot to add here, that this power dynamic seems to be suspiciously qabalistic! Here we have a model where will is executed by oscillating from one side (Chesed, or Mercy) of the tree of life to the other side (Giburah, or Severety).
Goose may not have loved me one bit (I do not know how he felt or feels), but he definitely knew how to express power as I define it - so much so as to prove to me that neither physical appearance nor depth of character are things I need to find a man attractive.
Since we're on the subject, I may as well get into another small and interesting conclusion I came to. There is a tendency in the gay world to describe men as "straight acting" if they do not give themselves off as gay. I am frequently described as such because most people can't tell I'm gay easily. But I do not like this term. It feels very disempowering: to be acceptable, your best hope is to act like a another (straight) man. Being yourself just isn't enough.
Now, while I am not attracted to overtly feminine guys (for the same reason, I suppose, that I am not attracted to girls), I actually don't mind it if a guy is obviously gay. What this guy has shown me is that, as a matter of fact, an obviously-gay guy who is still overtly masculine is actually extremely sexy, far more than a "straight acting" one. There is nothing feminine about Goose, but he immediately comes off as gay. Yet at the same time, he is very confident and radiates with masculinity... and smells like it too (after we finished, he fell asleep, and I just lay beside him smelling his hair. It felt as though he was oozing with male sex-hormones.
All these subtle little things became highlighted for me by this guy's power, and so became apparently in spite his unassuming first-impression.
We'll see how things go, and I'll try to update here for those concerned...
NSFW:
I am very aware of the fact that all is not a rose-garden in my house. There is a very potent self-destructive streak that runs through almost everything I derive worldly pleasure from. If it isn't algolagnia, then it is anaesthesia. And that is just today, long after I stopped the speedballs and other insane risks I took in the past.
This same destructive streak reminds me of the day I lost my virginity: it was the Easter of 2003 I believe, and I was flirting with a very expensive heroin habit. At the time, my self-esteem was so low I was bewildered by the very fact that some random guy who isn't in his 70's actually wanted to fuck me.
Just as with Goose, it didn't take us half an hour of chatting before we decided to go for it. And also the same was how he picked me up (from the very same street, may I add) and we drove off to a distant place. With this guy, we simply wanted to go to a place where we'd be out of public sight, so we drove off to the country and parked in some obscure location. He conveniently "forgot" to bring condoms (and lube...), yet I was more than happy to let him fuck me just like that and, as if to add insult to injury, insisted that he cum inside me.
The three years that followed were miserable. I was too anxiety-laden to bear the idea of having to wait two weeks for test results. I also couldn't get myself to touch anyone out of fear of what might get passed to them. I was lucky that toward the end of that period, there were introduced new tests that give results in 20 seconds. So I finally went and got tested, and to my relief I was clean.
But the point remains that in the heat of the moment, perhaps out of desperation, I took pleasure in the gigantic risk involved with my decisions.
And it did not stop there: there were several encounters during which I found myself being bare-backed by a guy. It seems that because I so intense all the time I give men the impression that I want to be fucked real bad. But at least, on all these occasions I managed to stop them before things went too far.
So it appears that my only way of enjoying loveless sex is by flirting with death. Given that it seems the only other thing that give me joy in life comes in the form of a general anaesthetic, I get the impression that I am probably still suicidal at some unconscious level, even though I no longer think about doing it, and anyway believe that I am too weak to be able to do it on my own.
I do not see any way out of this besides finding someone who is capable of reciprocating the visceral quality of my love. But I am not holding my breath.
One random confession I have to make is that throughout my encounter with goose, I was on a moderate dose of adderall which is the one drug that seems to make me inhumanly (or perhaps very much humanly) horny and of course can lead me to make stupid decisions with false-confidence. I am of course not blaming my risk-taking on it, but rather declaring taking it as just another component to the overall riskiness of the situation. The fact that we smoked weed at his place probably didn't help... although it certainly made me aware that I have a fetish for deepthroating stoners while they toke
This same destructive streak reminds me of the day I lost my virginity: it was the Easter of 2003 I believe, and I was flirting with a very expensive heroin habit. At the time, my self-esteem was so low I was bewildered by the very fact that some random guy who isn't in his 70's actually wanted to fuck me.
Just as with Goose, it didn't take us half an hour of chatting before we decided to go for it. And also the same was how he picked me up (from the very same street, may I add) and we drove off to a distant place. With this guy, we simply wanted to go to a place where we'd be out of public sight, so we drove off to the country and parked in some obscure location. He conveniently "forgot" to bring condoms (and lube...), yet I was more than happy to let him fuck me just like that and, as if to add insult to injury, insisted that he cum inside me.
The three years that followed were miserable. I was too anxiety-laden to bear the idea of having to wait two weeks for test results. I also couldn't get myself to touch anyone out of fear of what might get passed to them. I was lucky that toward the end of that period, there were introduced new tests that give results in 20 seconds. So I finally went and got tested, and to my relief I was clean.
But the point remains that in the heat of the moment, perhaps out of desperation, I took pleasure in the gigantic risk involved with my decisions.
And it did not stop there: there were several encounters during which I found myself being bare-backed by a guy. It seems that because I so intense all the time I give men the impression that I want to be fucked real bad. But at least, on all these occasions I managed to stop them before things went too far.
So it appears that my only way of enjoying loveless sex is by flirting with death. Given that it seems the only other thing that give me joy in life comes in the form of a general anaesthetic, I get the impression that I am probably still suicidal at some unconscious level, even though I no longer think about doing it, and anyway believe that I am too weak to be able to do it on my own.
I do not see any way out of this besides finding someone who is capable of reciprocating the visceral quality of my love. But I am not holding my breath.
One random confession I have to make is that throughout my encounter with goose, I was on a moderate dose of adderall which is the one drug that seems to make me inhumanly (or perhaps very much humanly) horny and of course can lead me to make stupid decisions with false-confidence. I am of course not blaming my risk-taking on it, but rather declaring taking it as just another component to the overall riskiness of the situation. The fact that we smoked weed at his place probably didn't help... although it certainly made me aware that I have a fetish for deepthroating stoners while they toke
So here's to hoping that Goose turns out to be a good guy (if he turns out at all - I have not heard back from him, although to be fair he did say he will be working long hours the following week). I'd be happy to keep with him and not find other guys for the same purpose as a second-best thing to a loving relationship.
But even if he did not love me, at least he showed the capacity to understand me far more so that anyone I'd met yet (as far as sexuality goes). He has crystallized in my imagination some very specific qualities I seek in a man: I am very attracted to power, and that does not necessarily mean muscle. Here is a scrawny guy who managed to obliterate me, and it is through his paradoxical nature that he managed to make me rethink my sexuality.
But the key here is that power to me is the expression of strength or influence that is tempered with an equal capacity for understanding or empathy. Very few people seem to be able to wield power as such.
There is a small amount of kind-hearted people who have lots of heart and little strength, and these are wonderful to have in one's life and I might even make love to them because of that, but they don't turn me on at my core.
There are also countless people who may at first appear powerful due to being physically built, for example, but who do not have a heart. Their words and actions quickly betray this and expose their lack of power, at which point their attractiveness begins to steadily decline, sometimes even inverting and turning into something revolting.
I forgot to add here, that this power dynamic seems to be suspiciously qabalistic! Here we have a model where will is executed by oscillating from one side (Chesed, or Mercy) of the tree of life to the other side (Giburah, or Severety).
Goose may not have loved me one bit (I do not know how he felt or feels), but he definitely knew how to express power as I define it - so much so as to prove to me that neither physical appearance nor depth of character are things I need to find a man attractive.
Since we're on the subject, I may as well get into another small and interesting conclusion I came to. There is a tendency in the gay world to describe men as "straight acting" if they do not give themselves off as gay. I am frequently described as such because most people can't tell I'm gay easily. But I do not like this term. It feels very disempowering: to be acceptable, your best hope is to act like a another (straight) man. Being yourself just isn't enough.
Now, while I am not attracted to overtly feminine guys (for the same reason, I suppose, that I am not attracted to girls), I actually don't mind it if a guy is obviously gay. What this guy has shown me is that, as a matter of fact, an obviously-gay guy who is still overtly masculine is actually extremely sexy, far more than a "straight acting" one. There is nothing feminine about Goose, but he immediately comes off as gay. Yet at the same time, he is very confident and radiates with masculinity... and smells like it too (after we finished, he fell asleep, and I just lay beside him smelling his hair. It felt as though he was oozing with male sex-hormones.
All these subtle little things became highlighted for me by this guy's power, and so became apparently in spite his unassuming first-impression.
We'll see how things go, and I'll try to update here for those concerned...
