belief

Going to 2 many DJs last night has restored my confidence in my dancing ability and in my ability to dance in front a load of critical strangers. Been in e-mail contact with Martin about organising HEROES, so just got to get the hotpants and shave my chest (I'm gonna miss my ginger rug, it's my proper sign of manliness, years of untouched growth to be razed in one session) and I'm gonna be a go-go dancer getting pound notes shoved in my garter.

Martin was also teasing me about my date today, along the lines of "you still believe in that love crap, man do I have to put you straight on that and save you 10 years." He's a smart guy Martin, with his head screwed on tighter than nearly any other faggot I've met, and the fact he's put me straight on so many of my unnecessary worries makes me suspect he's right on this. I don't know if he thinks gay love is impossible, or if all love is fake, but whichever it is I don't want to hear it. If it's true, it's not something I can be told, I can only learn through experience.

In the meantime I want to keep what little delusions I have left. As a kid I believed that one day I'd marry a girl and have kids and also in heaven, god, fairness, justice, the cub scout law and Father Christmas. Now life has taught me that almost nothing I believed in has any meaning, except the possiblity that if I spent time with the right kind of person at the right time my body might release chemicals that would allow me to experience something absolutely intense and beautiful, that I've only ever touched with my fingertips through music or drugs. I know this feeling doesn't last, and that love supposedly produces unrivalled pain and disappointment too, but I'm willing to face the come down. The potential suffering is no argument for not trying, cause then I should give up on any emotional attachment whatsoever, cause I'm eventually gonna suffer losing my friends and family. I might as well kill myself to protect myself from all pain, which would be the selfish idiotic option. Better to enjoy the challenges of a life I choose. It's taken me till now to reach the same conclusions Camus did in 1955.

Talking about the pain of broken friendships, which have happened to me more in the gay world than anywhere else, it's funny that I mentioned Stuart in my last post. I met Rhea and Shashi today (visiting from Poland, we picked up right where we left off, sign of a true friendship) and Rhea had some fascinating news for me. She picked this up in the Edinburgh news,

A hospital doctor who began taking drugs to relieve the pressure of work was caught in a nightclub with cocaine and 41 Ecstasy tables, a court heard yesterday. Christopher Lord, 26, of Edinburgh, had previously pleaded guilty to being in possession of the drugs in The Liquid Room, Edinburgh, on September 6 last year. The court was told the drugs were for Lord's own use. Sheriff Kenneth MacIver said he had been surprised the Crown had accepted a plea of possession given the amount of tablets involved. Defence agent Stuart Carson said his client had been suspended by the General Medical Council and had resigned from the hospital where he worked. Lord was placedon probation for nine months.

So that's what happened to Chris then! I've no idea if him and Stuart were still mates at the time, but I'm just really glad that whole poisonous group did cut me out. Goes to show there is some karma in the world. The "drugs for stress" argument is so weak, so Chris, just like all the sickies he pulled cause he was just a slacker and was recovering from ridiculous 3-day drugs benders. I'm only amazed he didn't get done for intent to supply, considering even his hefty appetite couldn't consume 41 in one night!