Crusing: Thoughts

Well, hot on the heals of the first post, I'm going to get stuck in.

Two hours ago I drove back from a city nearby to me. I'm at University in what I can only describe as a social backwater, albeit a pretty one. And what was I doing in the city on a Saturday evening, you ask? Well, I wanted to go out, but with no-one to go with, I went cruising.

Gaydar is a funny place. There's the odd person who seems fairly decent - but then doesn't want to meet. There's the thousands who look much better in their pics than they do when you get in their trousers. And then there's the many more who will have anything with a pulse.

I'm concerned I've turned into the latter recently. I've never been a prude, but I do like to think I'm aware of the risks. I think, to use the 60s phrase, that 'free-love' is great, but sometimes I do wonder whether I should respect myself a little more than to go about willy-nilly (excuse the pun). But then again, when a certain something decides it wants out, there ain't much stopping it!

The guy I saw tonight I saw earlier in the week too. Let's say he got what he wanted. And actually so did I: I got out of the house, I had a nice drive up the motorway, saw some city lights, and had some body contact.

I'm sure, though, that this is a sign of desperation on my part - however latent and repressed it feels. I've not been able to resist sex lately. It's been constantly on the brain. I'm going to be posting about a messy break-up I recently underwent (if that's what it was!) and I think on top of that, and because I hate where I live - somewhere where I find myself cut off from the University, swamped by immature students, without gay friends, and absolutely desperate to have a fresh start - I'm just putting myself 'out there' to remind myself I'm alive.

Is this what sex is out of a relationship? Maybe even in it! For all the bravado, the cheeky faces and horny talking which cruising brings about...does is cover a huge amount of insecurity? Or are men just desperate for it... I think I'm both.

Remember A Streetcar Named Desire (watch it, Brando looks hot in a vest - you can smell the testosterone)? Blanche says: "I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." I think a lot of us do. And as for sex, however random, reminding you you're alive is something it definitely can do: "I don't want realism. I want magic! Yes, yes, magic. I try to give that to people. I do misrepresent things. I don't tell truths. I tell what ought to be truth." Well I'm a big liar myself - this fascinating secret life of random encounters, repressed 'neediness' for someone etc. - something which most people won't ever hear of from me in real life. Because putting in on here is real for me, but at the same time it's not: it's electronic, it's as if my brain is just printing itself on my screen without consequences. It's a dream in reality. I'll shut up being a tit now.

Back to Streetcar: "Straight? What's 'straight'? A line can be straight, or a street. But the heart of a human being?" Well, you can read into 'what's straight' whatever you like. I'm as bent as a roundabout, dear. But the heart certainly isn't straight...and my brain isn't either for that matter!