on sleepy towns
Dear Lonely,
I am sad to hear the circumstances youre going through right now. Your most recent blog seemed pained, almost reproachful of life. I would just like to remind you that there are worse things in life than being straight and lonely…its called being gay and lonely.You still owe me a lot of quento and you know that I’m always ready to listen or read whatever you have to share. I, on the other hand, am busy fending off ennui. North Carolina is a great place for nature lovers and I enjoy the occasional romp in the woods and then some. But nature-lover I am not. Thus, I so miss the buzzing comfort of conversation, the blaring of car horns in traffic, the rhythmic thumping of basses on the car sound system, and the infrequent, albeit refreshing, screams of the neighborhood schizophrenic.
The silence in this sleepy town is deafening. It rouses long-suppressed voices in one’s subconscious and one finds oneself engaging more frequently in introspective soliloquy. Taking care of America’s pleasantly demented and forgotten elderly makes one wonder if the men one meets offer only temporary solace, palliative care for the eventual, unavoidable end. But then, one can only wonder and hope that there is meaning in all these. That there is a greater scheme that one has yet to uncover.
But enough about this.
I have yet to meet someone of genuine interest as this part of America seems deprived of that resource. I have to admit I am getting laid more than ever but that is totally beside the point. Although American men have a weird, almost surreal adoration for Asian chic, I on the other hand, find them wanting. Or maybe I just havent found anyone worth my time…
My co-workers have conscripted me to help design a float for the town’s Christmas parade which makes me pause and think: Have they smoked me out and discovered my artistic (read: gay) nature? For the past few months, they’ve been trying to find out if I had any girlfriend at home (at which I puke in my mouth on cue), or if I had a wife and family (at which I throw up my entire lunch). I don’t offer them any information and I act the same way I’ve acted for the past 29 years so I could only conclude that these people are totally clueless about alternative lifestyles. I imagine them shitting their pants once they find out that I am a card-carrying member of the queer nation. In the meantime, I shall leave them confused lest they lose their cotton-pickin minds over whatever revelation I have in store for them.
The holidays are soon approaching and I am sure to miss the bonfires and theme parties in the Philippines. If I play my cards right, I could probably scheme my way into getting a few invites to parties here and there but I know it really wont be the same. I am looking forward to going back to LA for the New year and to celebrate it with my ever-so-faggotty high school friends…
Here ends the musings of slowly degenerating mind. Miss you guys. Keep in touch and make quento…
Rafael
