A funny thing happened

Published 06/24/2012 by MoonieZ

No it didn’t.

Simply had to use that headline because I have no imagination left. I want to write something really interesting, entertaining and funny but all I come up with is monster mash and cat vomit. Not much fun in that.

So, what else is not new? That I am a bit strange. Not odd. Strange. However I’m working on being not strange. As if that would be better. It would at least be normal.

I woke up early this morning. I had a nice dream. Not sure what about but I woke up feeling nice inside. Sort of happy.

For some reason, or lack of reason, that feeling made me remember when most people in a chat room I used to visit thought I was gay. No offence to gay persons of any sex, but I know I am not gay, or bi, because nothing in this world attracts me more than a woman.

Or, well, sometimes a very good meal can be more attractive but let’s not derail ourselves here. Not too much at least.  Which leads me to think maybe I seem gay to some very straight people because to them I act or express myself rather like a gay person would from their point of view. That’s the only way I can understand it.

I had a gay friend on the internet for some years. He acted like any person would. Nothing like I thought a gay person would. But he told me he was gay and I had no reason to suspect he wasn’t, but I still didn’t find him to be different from any other friend I’ve had. Except maybe that it was easier to talk to him compared to the supposedly straight guys I also talked to from time to time.

I guess to some of the other straight guys I was a threat in the battle we all fought to gain the attention of the model on cam, in whose chat room we all gathered night after night to chat time away. Or something of that nature.

To be honest, I never liked to compete with anyone for anyone’s attention online or offline or anywhere. Sure, it’s a flaw to not be a very competitive kind of person but I’ve never liked to compete because I’ve never learned to lose without losing my face. I can’t take it on the chin like a man and move on. Instead I often want to end my life instantly. To rid me of the pain of loss I refuse to compete and let everyone else worry about that.

I have taken part in competitions but always had that fear of being devastated if I lost, which I almost always did. Still, those times I really wanted to be in the competition. Because winning would have been priceless.

Back to the matter of my supposed gayness. I can see why the question appeared in my offline life as early as in school when I was only still entering puberty. I was the guy in the back of the room, with the long hair, who tried to hide from being noticed and who was the target of almost everyone’s ridicule.

Skolfest_1980

About to party, 1983

I read books about hobbits and talking animals, I made strange drawings of ducks,smurfs, rabbits and of characters from Star Wars and  the Asterix comics, I wrote strange stories and I listened to weird music.  I played with dolls. And I let my hair grow to down below my shoulders. I didn’t participate in any fighting or sports. I had only one friend – a guy. Only got to play with the girls during recess, or be all alone, because none of the guys wanted me around. Of course I must be gay. Maybe that’s why my childhood friend stopped seeing me once we got into our teens. I always thought it was because I was such a nerd but perhaps I seemed like a gay sissy too.

Anyway, it didn’t bother me what anyone thought. I always knew who and what I am. Again, I have nothing against homosexuality, I’m just not in that closet waiting to come out. However, I suspect some of the boys and later men who have called me gay may have had a closet of their own to deal with coming out of. I’m only guessing.

Mostly though, I think they were only trying to intimidate me or insult me or perhaps they were jealous of me having better luck talking to some of the women because I was able to make decent conversation. At least I could in a chat room but certainly not while I was in school. In those days I was terrified of talking to any girl for whatever reason. And when I say terrified, I mean terrified. Torture seemed like a better alternative.

This little story stopped making sense long ago. I’m aware of that. However – I’m getting close to the end of it now so you have only a few more sentences to read yet. A few more sentences like this one, which starts off like it will be leading you towards some sort of meaning at the other end but in fact it just stops suddenly. Annoying, isn’t it? I should know, it happens to me all the time. How and why, are not valid questions at this time.

The end.

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