It's not about becoming 'better'; it's about evolving. I think. Anyways - here's the mandatory list of things which others have suggested I might want to pay attention to for '04::
Divert more funds to footwear - and less to nose candy - whatever. Talk less, listen more - whatever...(you're snickering, I'm being glacial - see? I've already started) Make - More - Money - I always put this on the list, but actually haven't a clue how to do it legally. Adopt a more sincere, less socially promiscuous modus operandi for dealing with others, particularly during nightlife excursions - Ditto. Open up my heart - or close my legs - I can't help it if others crush on me. But I promise to be nicer this time.... Get invited to a Gay Wedding - I cannot believe that no-one has asked me to attend a Gay Matrimonial Gala yet!!! I mean - I know, know a helluvalotta minimally cute priests, am only a size 6 (Ladies), most of my shoes are already dyed to go with matching outfits, and have a general idea of who has what rash where. I'm talking p-e-r-f-e-c-t b-r-i-d-e-s-m-a-i-d material. Skincare, hardcore - This is too depressing to even think about. The mirror crack'd... Revamp this here page - So fabulous it will blow your mind. As soon as Colin finishes that course.... Burning Man - Everyone is going next year. It's all I care about. 4,000 freaks in a desert playing with matches, while on drugs. Sounds just like Toronto - only warmer. Let Donnie have his way with me - At the Dorchester, in London, after plying me with well-aged English Beef, Oysters & several bottles of Chateau Petrus. Make sure it's a '66, Darlin'.....
Up, up and away.....
Saturday, December 27
I have one thing to say....burrrrp.
Here's something I wrote for the New Year, which, incidentally, is already starting to feel old ::
Somewhere along the way, we lost touch & morphed into polar opposites, the unproud parents of an aching void. So why go on? There is no more truth - freedom is for, well, the free - and dignity can only exist so long in a hyperbaric chamber. I never thought it would be like this - and neither, to your greater dismay, did you.
Only children seem to understand...never ask the "why" of a promise.
Monday, December 15
To :: Hell's Angels, Pharmaceutical Division Re :: Those nasty nasty tabs
That latest batch of double-stacks can cause e-blues of such intensity that some of my friends are worried they may kill their pets over the next few days. Killer roll, however.....
"Creatures extremely low in the intellectual scale may have conception. All that is required is that they should recognize the same experience again. A polyp would be a conceptual thinker if a feeling of "Hello! thingumabob again!" ever flitted through its mind". - Wiiliam James.
[Bill despises the same people, I think...]
Friday, December 5
One Last Thing...
Here's a remix/revision of a rather irritating song I wrote last year ::
"There are certain persons for whom pure truth is a poison" - Andre Maurois
Tuesday, December 2
You re-attain consciousness, trying to arch one of your sensational eyebrows, and cast a glance at the peer group. They don't recognize you - for a second - but when they do, there's a lot of embarrassed over-compensation & reflexive gushing. I wonder if they were talkin' 'bout me? Everyone, apparently, "loves you" - but no-one tells you why. You're not the only one to have fucked the DJ - just the first, that's all. And I most certainly didn't broadcast it. Bitch. Remembrance of Things Past Flattered informs you that you're funny and have a nice ass. Nice ass. What a charming affirmation. Choosing your issues carefully, you move on; blaisé faire is the mood, the attitude and the credo - huh?....exactly. Of course - you look fucking great. But so does everyone else. All that work for nothing. It's lonely at the top. No-one I know pays rent ever. When you don't know what to wear, start with your hair. Thank god I'm not fat. Look - Sean's here! We really, really want you to come...blah blah blah.
Perhaps this is the last, most maudlin stage in gay adult male development - called "not that fabulous anymore". Or maybe I'm just in a really toxic mood.