The Prom King

 It was the second Thursday of August, and everyone knows that on the second Thursday of any month everyone will be at the Art Walk in Downtown LA. So there I went, with my friend Jen. We walked around, and saw nothing special. Cops guarded every corner of the street to prevent a repeat protest like the one that had happened on September, where all of 5th spring was closed off, and you would have to go around 3rd street to get around. A protest would have made the night more fun. We kept on walking until I got a phone call from another friend who wanted to meet up. Jen and I stood waiting next to the Crocker Club, waiting until my friend finally showed up. With her, were 3 other people, but I'm only going to focus on one.

I had met him 2 months ago, on a dull Saturday night that I had planned to spend at home. I was saved and picked up and went to some small, ratty apartment in a dangerous nearby area where I knew I was going to detest everyone I was about to encounter. There, he was introduced to me. He looked at me up and down and I suspected he was judging me. He was probably some meathead football player in high school who goes to church every Sunday and has never befriended anyone like me. There I stood wearing tight jeans, a band shirt, and my black cowboy boots. He kept on glancing at me, and I texted my friend, who was sitting next to me that "I'm oddly attracted to your friend." She texted me back, "That's weird you would say that because he came out to me not so long ago." A-ha! So he was gay! I asked more about him, and I forgot most of what I was told, but I do remember that he was the prom king at his prom. The same prom that had a lesbian prom queen. Later on that night, the poor boy asked an innocent question and I went off on him. I should have understood that he had just came out and he didn't know any better, but my temper got the best of me. I did try to make things better but he was too drunk to care, or notice. I figured I would never see him again.

Back to Thursday. He saw me, smiled, and said hi. I told him, "I remember you" and he said, "I do too, but I forgot your name." Strike 1. We all went to try to find a hidden spot for my group of friends who wanted to get stoned. I saw him partake in a spliff and for me that was Strike 2. He would talk to me but I didn't know if he was flirting with me or just being friendly, which I found extremely tedious. I want to lie and say I find him annoying, which is true, I do find him somewhat annoying, but I'm also really attracted to him. Maybe it's his innocence, although I suspect he's not that innocent. At the end of the night, he asked where I lived and I told him my cross streets. He said he lived near me, and he then told me his cross streets, which is just a 7 minute walk away from me. Near. He then asked how come we're not friends, and went off on giving answers, "it's cause you hate me, it's cause I'm gay," all hypothetical answers that were meant to be funny. Problem is, they weren't. Strike 3. With all these strikes, I started thinking about what my problem was? Why was I being so cynical? I should give the guy a chance, even if it's just for the friendship. Maybe he was nervous? I don't know, but what I do know is that I really want to make out with him. I've never made it with a prom king before, but the idea of it really turns me on.

To Settle?

 My birthday will be in exactly a month and 2 days. I'll be turning 23. A year older, and definitely a year wiser. My birthday weekend will be bitter-sweet; I'm already planning a celebration, but I'm also going to celebrate an anniversary. This upcoming birthday will mark 3 years of me being unofficially single. 

 The first few months were depressing. The year after was the best, and the last few months have been fun, a tad too much. I've gotten to the point where I'm ready to settle down though; I'm tired of not having a guy to ask me about my day or introduce me to something new. Tired of coming home at 2-3-4 in the morning, and not receiving a text/call asking where I am. Sure, it's easy to get out there, but that's not really my problem. My problem is that there are a bunch of clean-cut guys out there with their lives planned out, which is grand, but that's not the type of guy I want.

 I want a Rock n'Roll boyfriend, a guy in tight jeans, who's a wreck and will not be afraid to put our lives in danger. I'm looking for a thrill, a specific type of thrill. It's hard to be excited about a guy when every gay around is into Lady Gaga, refers to themselves as a "little monster", and wants to keep up with the latest fashions. I want a guy that's into cock: CockSparrer, Cockney Rejects, and/or the Buzzcocks. I said "Rock n'Roll" but I think I mean punk. I want a punk boyfriend. Unfortunately for me, most of the gay punks are anarcho punks, and I can't stand anarcho, so what's a boy to do? Am I being too picky? Should I settle for less? The perfect guy is not around, I've travelled in many circles, from San Bernandino to the San Fernando Valley, and everything in between, and zip, nada. 

As I'm getting older, should my standards get higher? Am I really getting wiser if my taste in guys remain the same? I'm getting confused, and lonelier by the second. I don't want to change my type, and I don't want to give a "monster" a try. I gave someone who wasn't my type a chance awhile ago, and that only lasted 2 days.  I'll just settle on being alone, and let "Prince Charming" come to me. Irregardless, in the past, I've never had a  problem waiting for a guy to come.

Wound Up

I started making out with this guy, and I didn't even know why since he wasn't typically my type. He was taller than me though, and I wanted someone to cuddle with, and I also was really drunk. At first he didn't let me kiss him, but that all changed once we got in the car. The way he kissed me, and the way he held me, it reminded me of someone that I used to care about, and I believe that's why I didn't stop him. He kept on flattering me with cute words like "I would tear you apart, trust," and "damn, your ass is out of this world." I hadn't felt so attractive in a long time. I felt special. We proceeded to make out by some bushes, and he started going to 2nd base. A couple passed by and some drunk girl started to cheer us on. We stopped. Unfortunately for me, we had to separate because we had to go home. I wanted to keep on making out with him, and he wanted to spend the night with me, but I didn't let him because my dad always freaks the fuck out when guys sleep over. A higher force must have been on my side because the morning after I found out he had a boyfriend. That explained why he told me not to leave him any marks while I kissed his neck. I felt disappointed. I felt fooled. I can't never really get what I want. Or something I don't.

Blood On the Wall

There are things that we do that we know are bad for us, even though they make us extremely happy, so are these bad habits of us really bad? Or do we believe they're bad because that's what we've been raised to believe? I've been pretty happy lately, for no reason. I've had little adventures that I wouldn't wish on anyone but myself, because I'm a little selfish like that. One of these last nights was the best for me, it was like the best days I've had in awhile. It's kinda weird how it takes me a few drinks to be happy sometimes, but that only enhances the experience. Is that bad?


I've come to an end of another personal journey, and it's somewhat bitter-sweet because I'm happy that it's over, but now I'm stuck with the, "now what?" questions all over my mind. What will I do now that I'm getting older? When will I move out of my parent's house? When will I start learning how to drive? When will I start my career? Am I sure I'm pursuing the right career? Do I really want to grow up? Should I just suck dick for money? (jk on the last one!)


I wish I could be more specific but I've learned to hold back. I'm trying to find more ways to be happy within myself, and I'm learning how to be happy with myself, not to get mad at others for petty shit, not to be jealous. I'm teaching myself how to turn a negative into a positive, and not to cut off certain people, but cut off their negative thoughts. A lot of people say a lot of unnecessary elitist comments, and I'm coping with not letting that affect me, because we're all different. If you want to be a lame ass Debbie Downer, go ahead, but don't get mad at me when you see me out there living my life. Or do so, I'll be too busy being happy to notice.

Gone

 Sometimes I wonder if I'm too boring. Sometimes people invite me places and they don't even talk to me after. Maybe I'm just a statue. A moving statue. Why would you want me around and not talk to me? I don't get that. I know I'm shy, but that doesn't mean I'm boring. I have a pretty interesting life, or at least I hope I do. People rarely text me. For once I would like to get a text wishing me a good morning, or an "I hope you have a great day." People seem to hit me up on weekend nights, when they want to find something to do. They treat me as if I'm some sort of a last resort, a sort of party line. What do I know about parties? Nothing.


I know I've made a fool of myself, befriend those I shouldn't have, fallen in lust with the unattainable ones. I'm trying to repair my mistakes, grow from them, but I'm just growing dull. What happened to me? I'm dead.


I met this girl last week. I was a little (or a lot) drunk, and me and this girl seemed to share so much in common. We even danced together. We spent our morning together. As soon as the alcohol was out of my system, I found her really dull, really destructive. She kept on trying to bring me out of my shell. I just met her. What made her think that I was going to open up to her so easily? She kept on asking what made me so shy. I didn't answer. I've been shy for most of my life. What made her think I was going to switch it up like *that*? Maybe that's why people find me boring. I'm not though, I'm really not....

Burritos

 I've been feeling really uninspired lately, so I'll write about something I had in mind all day long: burritos.

I love burritos, I don't know why. Burritos are THE fucking best. Today I was in the bus, heading home, and I just kept on thinking about a long, thick burrito on the tip of my lips. Sometimes I can't take it. My mouth just gets all watery, and I get all anxious thinking about burritos to stick in my mouth. There are days where I sit around and just think about burritos. People think burritos are so easily accessible, but they're really not. Well, they are, but not all the time. What I love about burritos is not only the taste, but the variety. They come in all shapes and sizes. There are days where I feel like I can take on a big burrito, but then there are other days where the small ones do the trick. Sometimes I even feel like taking on two. What can I say, I'm a little adventurous like that! The best burrito I've ever had wasn't big or small, it was somewhere in the middle; the type of burrito that you know you'll enjoy and the thought of it just teases you. I hate waiting for it, but I know it's always satisfy me. When you finally get your hands on it, you can't wait to put it in your mouth, and have that sauce drip all over you. The sauce is the best though! Without it, that burrito would be nothing. I'm getting all wet thinking about it! The best part is after you're done, you just relax, and catch your breath because you know that burrito was the fucking best, and you're all exhausted but it was fucking worth it. I love burritos. Like that.

Drunk

Okay, so I'm over the last boy I wrote about. He's cute, but that's it. I found out he has a girlfriend, and I'm done with guys with girlfriends. Second of all, I said that if I ever were to mess around with him, I would have to do it with his shirt on. There I went with lowering my standards again.


Yesterday, I came across this beautiful boy. Just my type. Light skinned, taller than me, medium length brown hair. He was wearing a white shirt, these slim black jeans, and black Doc Martens! It's like I had hit the jackpot. I was too shy to approach him; when it comes to meeting guys, I'm always shy. I asked my friend to go up to him and tell him I said, "What's up?" So ghetto. So high school. He replied with "I'm a big ladies fan, but thanks anyway." Usually I would be heartbroken over the rejection, but this time I was nonchalant about it. I was proud for at least trying, but if it didn't happen, then it didn't happen for a reason. That day I got some news that made me even happier than any guy could. I even enjoyed an awesome Big Mac by myself at the bus stop. At least I'm progressing with the idea of being alone. Or I'm getting better at fooling myself.


I'm trying to stop drinking. Drinking leads to bad decision making, but being sober is so boring. Although, I'd rather be bored than to put myself in dangerous situations. Or embarrassing ones. It's funny because on Saturday, at the bar, there was a thin, tall, clueless, drunk girl dancing all crazy. She reminded me of Squidward dancing, it was pretty sad. Everyone was making fun of her. Surprisingly, her boyfriend was there with her, seemingly embarrassed to be associated to be with her. My friend Pris, and I, kept at staring at him because he was attractive. He came and sat down next to us and he asked her, "Why are you staring at me?" At first it seemed as if he was trying to flirt, but then he wouldn't stop asking that question. What did he expect her to say? He turned out to be a big douche, which rid him of his attractiveness. We saw the couple fighting outside of the bar afterwards. How sad it looked like to be that girl.


I remember a few years ago, I went to this event in Little Tokyo, and it was one of my favourite places to go to. That place would always get packed, and there was usually a sea of attractive boys there. It was during my fake id days. I went inside to the indoor dance area, and there I saw something I hadn't seen before. A girl fucking a guy in front of everyone. It wasn't a sex show, this was drunk, public sex. People surrounded the couple and they were taking pictures. The girl was obviously too drunk to shoo anyone away. The show got boring so I headed outside. An hour later, I see the girl being dragged away by her girlfriends. I felt bad for her. That's one of the reasons I'm trying to stop drinking. I don't want to end up being "that girl." I know I talk like her, but I'm not her. Some of the situations I've gotten myself into end up in regret, but luckily there was no one there to take pictures.