Diversity And The Urban Exile
FuelMix was recently chatting to a fag who commented on the all the different people that had thronged into town for the recently completed Pride.
Fag was pleased at the diversity but said that all those people made him feel even more alone. FuelMix, always happy to jump on a paradox, asked why.
Fag replied that perhaps he had grown up in a different era, or perhaps he had different expectations. He had moved back to town after an absence of a few years and noticed 3 things about the people he used to mix with. Firstly, they had either stayed where they were in life. Secondly, their standard of living had dropped as a result of addictions, lousy money management or ill health; Thirdly, they were dead.
Fag admitted his expectations were to make the enduring friendships he had known and missed. He was not close to his biological family, and, as he was getting older, was looking for a “family”. He felt he had outgrown his friends here, sharing neither their values nor their lifestyle.
FuelMix asked if fag was scared of dying alone and unloved. Fag admitted that might be it and added that as much as he craved caring and affection, he was becoming socially withdrawn. He was feeling caught in his own trap – not helped by the fact that during Pride, there appeared to be so many choices, but so little to choose from.
FuelMix suggested that fag was being too analytical in the wrong context. First and foremost, Pride was a jubilant celebration of fagdom. Some love it, some hate it. As one massive party, approaching Pride with a critical eye, looking for nurturing love and friendship, might not be the best tactic. FuelMix suggested that fag use Pride as one big cocktail party where mingling was easy and casual sex even easier.
(FuelMix slyly suggested that casual sex in moderation, lifts depression and encourages clearer thinking).
FuelMix also said that fag should draw a disctinction between being alone and lonely. The former was a choice. The latter was a state of mind.
Fag retorted that FuelMix was too full of himself and went off to piss.
© 2006 FuelMix All Rights Reserved
Fag was pleased at the diversity but said that all those people made him feel even more alone. FuelMix, always happy to jump on a paradox, asked why.
Fag replied that perhaps he had grown up in a different era, or perhaps he had different expectations. He had moved back to town after an absence of a few years and noticed 3 things about the people he used to mix with. Firstly, they had either stayed where they were in life. Secondly, their standard of living had dropped as a result of addictions, lousy money management or ill health; Thirdly, they were dead.
Fag admitted his expectations were to make the enduring friendships he had known and missed. He was not close to his biological family, and, as he was getting older, was looking for a “family”. He felt he had outgrown his friends here, sharing neither their values nor their lifestyle.
FuelMix asked if fag was scared of dying alone and unloved. Fag admitted that might be it and added that as much as he craved caring and affection, he was becoming socially withdrawn. He was feeling caught in his own trap – not helped by the fact that during Pride, there appeared to be so many choices, but so little to choose from.
FuelMix suggested that fag was being too analytical in the wrong context. First and foremost, Pride was a jubilant celebration of fagdom. Some love it, some hate it. As one massive party, approaching Pride with a critical eye, looking for nurturing love and friendship, might not be the best tactic. FuelMix suggested that fag use Pride as one big cocktail party where mingling was easy and casual sex even easier.
(FuelMix slyly suggested that casual sex in moderation, lifts depression and encourages clearer thinking).
FuelMix also said that fag should draw a disctinction between being alone and lonely. The former was a choice. The latter was a state of mind.
Fag retorted that FuelMix was too full of himself and went off to piss.
© 2006 FuelMix All Rights Reserved
Hey There!
ReplyDeleteDont think Im a Urban Fag, but Im not sure if there is a thing called a Bushfag or not.
First time reading your Blog Thingy and it gave me a chuckle and makes me think at the same time.
Thank ya!
Bcbushcub
Funny - and true.
ReplyDeleteAn old friend, Tim (large, balding, hilarious, introduces himself as "Cindy" but not in drag) once said, "People are about as happy as they make up their minds to be."
ReplyDeleteI, myself, grew up painfully shy. And, I think I figured out Tim's theory before we met. One day, I just decided, "WTF! I'm going to talk to people." Just little "hello's", "Hi, how are you's", etc. Wouldn't you know - my whole life changed.
If you are alone - mix with other people. If you think about yourself, you reinforce your own isolation. Think about others: put yourself in their shoes and see how they fit. DO something for another person now and then. Be NICE. Think of someone else for a change, instead of concentrating on how miserable you are.
Make up your mind not to reinforce 'apartness.'
And simply, say "hello", "how are you?", "nice weather". Sounds simple and shallow? Yeah, well, it leads to more than you think.
The prospect of dying alone and unloved is a possibility for many fags, even though they may be in an urban environment. Getting older only makes you acutely aware of your mortality and the importance of having quality people in your life. Unfortunately, the modern fag seems to leave a lot to be desired.
ReplyDelete