9:19 p.m. - September 14, 2003
So Ryan calls and we talk for a while about his program (organizational studies is not for me) and the movie, of which I only have a blurry recollection. If we hang out again, as he'd like to on Wednesday, is intimacy a given? You suck a cock once, is there an expected reprise moment? Why must I invert everything - or - here's a thought - maybe nothing is inverted and the timeline of meet + conversation + getting to know each other + dating + intimacy is simply condensed and sped up? Perhaps this is the secret? Maybe for Ryan we've done all that and now since I give good head and make him laugh and he is attracted to shorter, shy guys, that he'd like to get to know me better? And likewise, because I like them hung and masculine and I know his cum tastes good, I will conceive of opening up to yet another with likely pre-ordained conclusions? No, no, no: For me, it's not supposed to be this way, damnit. I'm Leave It to Beaver, not The Osbournes, I'm more 50s-prudishness than 70s-go go.
And if I continue in this vein, will I exhaust those qualities to which both Eli and Ryan found appealing, namely that I'm not like most gay men? Where is that balance between individualism and idiosyncretism, ideals and [another /i/ word?] integrity? Can I rightfully claim to possess any integrity at all if it only takes a few beers for me to give head when prior to imbibing I had no intentions of being intimate? [what the hell's going on with all this alliteration? No more /i/s!] Am I any less or more reckless and hedonistic than those guys who rendezvous with men before exchanging names?
It's all about feeling guilty for pleasure, isn't it? So many layers and camouflaged issues like a real Austrian torte, not the shit made by Sara Lee.
Something else hovering on the periphery, but I'll think more about that later.