Another quiet Friday night spent at home with the kittens and DVD’s. No, I’m not complaining. Or at least not yet. At this point I’m so used to staying in that going out seems too much of a hassle: the hair, the skin, the outfit, the attitude, etc. It’s so much work to always have to ‘bring it’ every time I take one step outside the front door.
Life as an urban gay boy has become very boring. It’s too predictable. Random sexual encounters have long lost their appeal. What’s the point of getting it on with someone whose name and face you’d rather forget the next day? Going clubbing wears out my patience. It’s always the same crowd dancing the same moves to the same songs. Meeting up with my friends at the usual gay watering holes tires me. It turns too quickly to the inevitable who’s-getting-checked-out-most match and I simply don’t have the energy to be completely shallow anymore.
I suppose it’s obvious that I may be suffering from the ‘been there, done that’ syndrome. Possibly a strain of the ‘same old, same old’ virus that has been going around. Too bad I’m out of medication. At least it stopped me from being so goddamn aware of everything or at least made me care less. Yep. Sobriety sucks.