Why I Can’t Have Nice Things.

As a child i was always told i couldn’t have nice things because i would destroy them.

Who knew this was a character trait i would carry into my adult life?

As I sit here and begin to write in this blog again my heart is heavy with guilt and regret. Many of you have written to me over the last few months and asked why I have stopped posting. The truth is this was started out of love. I had a particularly awful breakup and I needed an outlet. I’m sure if you read some previous posts you will get an insight into all the details. However one posting you will not see is one entitled ‘The dating game’. The dating game was a post regarding sex. I wrote about how sex felt different, how, since I had been sleeping with someone I truly loved sex seemed so inferior.

This Post was in fact discovered by my ex who misread the tags and assumed it was a note to glorify the joys of promiscuity and revel in my new found single life. This caused quite the argument. Unpredictably this ended up being the best thing that ever happened to us. The idea of me being with anyone else in that capacity threw him, he could not stomach the thought of me moving on. He had so much love that all the insignificant reasons for our breakup fell away. He wanted me, all our plans of a life together fell back into place. This was OUR future, OUR time, OUR London.

And so began ‘long distance’. Anyone who has been in a long distance relationship knows how tough it is. I went into it with complete naivety and relied purely on my heart. To be fair to him he has been amazing. He has spent the last few months arising early and scheduling me in. He has been fine when there have been days when we can’t speak. All in all he has been perfect. All you could ask for.

Enter my own insecurities. I have a million. I have spent my life feeling un-loveable. Even with my family I am sure in their hearts they all secretly like each other a bit more than me. That through birth I was automatically given entry into the fold but have never truly felt that security. It’s an awful thing to think, and as an intelligent human being I’m sure it’s completely untrue, but its how my mind works.

Recently something changed inside me. I have always been a little self destructive, ruining things for myself or getting myself into situations that are hugely negative or dangerous. It’s like my body wants a challenge and nine times out of ten I fail and end up hurting myself. Recently the feeling of doubt came upon me. Completely fabricated and created by myself. Completely fictional but seeming entirely real to me at the time. I have sat there for the last month picking arguments. I have tortured this poor guy by asking him to do one thing and then criticising him for doing it. My brain has been on self destruct. I have flipped out a million times and tried to call time on our relationship because I’m so insecure that I cannot handle the fact that maybe, just maybe someone actually loves me.

I stopped writing this blog because I didn’t need it. I didn’t need an outlet for my emotions because they were entirely positive. I was so happy. I had achieved everything I had wanted. So why now? Why start writing again?

 Because I fucked it all up.

One day I did it. In a fit of anger I broke it off. He threw his hands up and surrendered. I pushed him so far that his love can’t bring him back. The boy who couldn’t think of anything worse than seeing me with someone else had given up. I hurt him so much with my words and my vile tongue that I destroyed the thing I have wanted for so long. The most important thing in my life. And I have begged. As I write to you I am sobbing because I begged. I have never cared so little for myself that I have begged for forgiveness. I have prayed to god that it is salvageable that he will give me this one chance to be with him. But he can’t. He saw me. More than anyone else has ever seen me. I never let anyone so close and he didn’t like it. The idea of being with me terrifies him to the point were he has no trust and he can comfortably cut me from his life. I did that. Through my fears and anxiety of losing him I managed to strip him of love. I destroyed our relationship. He is done.

Usually I would end with a thought provoking positive passage about looking to the future and still searching for love. I don’t think I deserve it. I was given it on a platter, I was handed happiness and I stood all over it. Who does that make me? What kind of person does that mean I am? And that is why I’m back here. Back pouring my heart out to anonymous people around the world. I have no person to blame but myself and I don’t know how to recover from this. I don’t know how to fix my life. I was broken before but there was always hope. I don’t have any now. I hurt the love of my life and I can never get them back. Heartbreaking stuff folks. I’m sorry if this has brought you down today, I just hope someone relates to this so I know I’m not the only crazy person in the world who feels like a fool.

.M.

What A Marvelous Kiki

As the final pieces of confetti and Glitter floated to the floor, the room was ablaze with euphoric screams and joyous cheers. This evening had proven to be one of sheer pleasure and entertainment. It was a chance to look back at the music that had acted as a soundtrack to such an important stage in my life…

So last night, I was lucky enough to be taken by a friend to see ‘The Scissor Sisters’…

…Now if you don’t know who they are, they are a four-piece modern day Glam Rock, Disco, Flamboyantly Gay, Electro band.

Growing up I always knew I wasn’t exactly ‘Normal’. I always seemed to be a little different to all the other boys in class. I have an older brother that is very much my polar opposite. And for a great chunk of my life (even to this day) we don’t exactly get along. You see growing up all teenagers have their own stuff to deal with, be it weight, skin issues, weird body hair, confusing emotions or in my case the fact that I really wanted to kiss boys.

For the longest time I was very much ashamed of this. Each day was plagued with feelings of guilt. I spent a great deal of time on my own, as I thought that the more people saw and spoke to me the more likely it was they would find out. I have great sympathy for people dealing with this as for some reason its still an issue. I could write an entire article on the ridiculousness of modern day beliefs and quote idiotic politicians and religious groups that still cite out dated ramblings as categorical fact. But I choose not to.

The reason why I mention all this is to give you an idea of the emotional place I was in at the age of about 16. High School was coming to an end and I was moving to a new city later in the year to start full time dance training were I was sure I would be able to be myself. I just wanted to run half a year into the future and start my new life but I was still confined into my repressed existence.

One day I was casually strolling around the entertainment section of my local supermarket whilst my mother did her weekly shop. I had ten pounds in my pocket and as would become a continuous character trait I needed to spend it! I skimmed over the large collection of CD’s until one caught my eye. It was a group I had never heard of before. The cover art was a luscious contrast of nature and industry. It portrayed a woman walking through a dense over grown forest through a circular doorway towards the bright lights of a big city. I still to this day have no idea why I bought this Album. I had never heard a track but I knew that wherever this woman going was definitely the direction I wanted to be heading in.

The Scissor Sisters album had been purchased.

When I got home I immersed myself in their world, I read the sleeve of the album start to finish over and over as the inspirational electro beat cleansed my soul. Every song on this album spoke to me. With tracks like ‘Tits on the Radio’, ‘Return to Oz’ and ‘Filthy Gorgeous’ I had inadvertently sought out a slice of gay culture and eventually gay musical history.

Although I will freely admit that my dedication towards the group has lapsed in recent years. I always held a special place for them in my heart. Last night was truly magical. I got to hear all the songs that had been so vital to me at such a difficult time, I got to bask in nostalgia and smile at the thought of how far I had come since my days as a painfully shy teenager.

As I looked around at the crowd, I saw a sea of Gay men. Young and old screaming out for more… I thought about all these young men as children and what they probably went through to be here today. So to anyone who is reading this and is struggling with this process. I promise you, just last night I saw a thousand smiling gay men. Life definitely gets better.

.M.

Train Of Thought

As with many Londoners I spend a great deal of time on public transport.

Were I differ from many is that I absolutely love it. Granted I have little desire to be riding on the Northern Line at 6pm crushed between tired commuters and the sliding doors. Nor do I enjoy the odour that comes along with this and the distinct shudder it gives you when someone’s day old warm breath hits you right in the face.

But during my Journey into central London every day, I have the joy of a 30 minute overground train. The time is my time. I try to find a small two-seater forward facing location tucked away from everyone else. I rest my head on the window and place my headphones in my ears. I love watching as the world rushes by next to me, I love the short glimpses into peoples lives as we briefly stop at different stations and I get to see them, just for a second, on their phones or in deep conversation.

Today was a wonderful journey. I was not bothered throughout my journey by anyone, which is always a bonus. Today’s playlist was a compilation of acoustic love songs. I would close my eyes from time to time and let the words soak into your subconscious. In this almost dream like place it is impossible not to relate the words you hear to your own experiences. Today, thoughts of my life in Japan came flooding back, thoughts of my previous relationship, and memories of the events that occurred.

I was so happy with the way I was feeling. To my own shock I did not get the same sense of emptiness I have been feeling previously. Nor did my resentments or general upset over the hand I have been dealt rear their heads. A quiet contentment came over me; I smiled as I thought of how happy I had been and how much I loved him. As the track changed to a more aggressive one based around a bad breakup I thought of all the problems we had glossed over in our time together. You see, looking back on any situation that you aren’t ready to leave you will only see the positives. Today I saw everything. And it felt amazing.

I feel like on today’s journey I really reached a turning point. I am so happy to have met someone and fallen in love. Before this I had no desire to be attached to anyone nor could I truly comprehend the idea of this level of emotion. I am so grateful for this relationship at such a pivotal moment in my life, I feel like I’m on the brink of a major change and I’m not sure what it is. But I know the skills I learned and the experiences I had will never be forgotten. I have now learned how to love. I’m truly excited for the future…

…This may all change tomorrow. As I mentioned in an earlier post, my indecision and fickle commitment to any feeling or decision are character traits I’m unlikely to lose.

But today, thinking of what I had.

I’m Thankful.

.M.

Can I Speak To Mr Smith Please?

I guess the time has arrived for a bit of an ‘about me’ section.

As I mentioned before I have just returned from living in Tokyo. I was there working for 8 months as a Tap dancer. This is essentially what I do. I’m a performer. I travel the world for 6/8month periods at a time performing to whomever will pay me.  I have been travelling now for nearly 4 years. I have been around the South Pacific, New Zealand Australia, Toured Europe and obviously now just returned from Japan.

I really enjoy my job but my problem lies (as with most things in my life) within my own indecision. I have a real habit of not being able to decide which route to go down in any circumstance be it work, love, social, anything. When I do make decisions they are often the worst possible ones and I end up having to give myself the old ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ speech.

As you know I’m now living back in London and I’m back in audition mode. Now for anyone who isn’t aware of the life of a performer, It’s not ideal. You spend 90 percent of your time hanging around waiting for a call from your agency or sending out copious emails to hopefully get seen by a casting director. If you go out you spend money which for months on end you may not be earning. You can become increasingly insecure about your appearance and abilities. And when you eventually do get that call that you have a casting…the likelihood is you’ll probably be cut within the first round because your not ‘what they were looking for’.

But for many performers this is all completely acceptable as the rewards of performance far outweigh the mindless hours of nothingness and desperation. I have reached a point now that I want something more. I’ve become tired of snatched glimpses of my dreams and the things I have worked for. My interests are diverse/far and wide. I feel now may be the time to look at more options so that I can grow as a person. I hope this helps me re-ignite my love for my career by showing me its true appeal or helps my to find the vocation that I can call my true passion.

In an attempt to give myself a small income and also to shake out of my current routine of daytime napping I decided to get a ‘Normal Job’. To anyone other than a performer this is just a job; however as entertainers we seem to believe that what we do is something other than the norm. However looking at my most recent open audition in which approximately 1000 people turned up I think we may be grossly misinformed.

As I mentioned in my first post I performed a rather croaky hung over interview for a charity phone sales company. Incidentally they thought I sounded great which did nothing but give me the idea that I could clearly get away with being hung over on the job a lot once I started. Don’t worry I am starting to notice that this is becoming a common theme and I will try and keep it in check. Once this process was completed and I went for a simple face-to-face interview I was offered a position. To think I would have my own computer and headset in just a few days…

…Simple things like this from normal jobs actually excite me a lot.

The first day was training. We sat in a room while a lady with a bull style nose ring wearing a kimono sashayed in front of us declaring, “We don’t care what you look like or what you wear. As long as you do a good job”. I thought this was fantastic as this was to fit in perfectly with my newfound alcoholism and subsequent hangovers.

The day soon took a turn once the details of the job came to the surface. You can wrap phone sales up however you want but even for a charity it is still the same thing. I believe cold calling is inherently evil and should be illegal. I was lead to believe that we were simply following up people who had given information on the street and had actively shown an interest in a charity. I now see that the information is collected from databases or questionnaires that may have included a sneaky question regarding charitable donations E.G. Would you ever donate to starving children? Of course they are going to put yes! And at that point you become placed in the system. Now I’m not against charity fundraising at all, in fact it was a big selling point for the job itself. However this level of invasiveness and the pressure they require you to place on the potential payee was not something I desired to be a part of. However although I had made my decision to not continue after this first day very early on, I did actually stay for the entire day just so I could do the role-play section towards the end…

“Hello Mr Smith, I’m Calling On Behalf of…” Loved it!

What I learned was that I really enjoyed the script reading section. Maybe I should be a straight actor I thought…

…Again drifting off with another pipe dream.

…As I left the building never to return, I had to laugh at my inability to complete more than one day’s work in a 9 to 5 job. It was also a nice feeling to know that I would happily be poor but doing something I love, rather than miserable and financially secure. So maybe performing could still be for me…

.M.

Two Steps Closer To Heaven

“Two steps closer to Heaven”… These are the infamous words being screamed into my ear by an overly enthusiastic bouncer, as I slowly meander through the crowds of people down a suspiciously sticky staircase…

Now granted since my recent break up I have been drinking slightly more than I should; however, whoever described this feeling as heartache was grossly misinformed. The feelings I’ve had since the day my plans and relationship were thrown away have been more of a dull ache. The kind of dull ache that plagues your entire day; every conversation, every funny moment, every film trailer that comes on T.V that you planned to watch together and now you cant because everything is so fucked up that….

…I digress.

So you appreciate the stage I’m at. And alcohol seems to be working as a great combat for these feelings. Now don’t get me wrong I’m aware enough to not let this become my life’s problem solver, nor have I been drinking so much that I should seek help. I have merely been frequenting London’s nightlife more than I usually would.

I see my friends becoming tired with my incessant need to discuss an already complete situation. A situation that has been dealt with and finalised by the other party involved. However my personality dictates that I must continue to procrastinate until some sort of conclusion is reached. Logic and experience have taught me that the likelihood of this happening is doubtful but the ever-hopeful romantic inside continues to battle against the good old brain.

Now where was I? Oh Yes Two steps to heaven.

Once inside my friends and I were greeted by the familiar sound of thumping base overlaid with the latest performance from this week’s talent show reject warbling away to some dance version of ‘Son of a Preacher Man’. And it begins…

…Gay Bar Politics  …

Regardless of your intension when entering the establishment, once inside you join the ranks of the single gay male and therefore you become pubic property. By paying your extortionate entrance fee you submit yourself for judgement. Much like our friend who is still parading along the stage singing other peoples songs to a lesser standard than their previous rendition and declaring that they are “all about the music”. We are here for approval. We all want this mass of sweaty bodies and over styled hair to be in awe of us. We slow motion strut through the smoke filled dance floor thinking we are Kate Moss or stand in front of the giant wind machine imagining we are in the Beyonce ‘Crazy in love’ video. All of this is inherently futile as we simply end looking like a moon walking spaceman with hair similar to what you would expect if you placed your head out of the car window.

 The Hysterical thing is everyone is doing the same, You see obnoxious Twinky boys, who seem to believe that a pout you could use as a shelving unit is incredibly attractive and endearing, as they push past you with their large female friend screaming about how much she ‘loves gay people’ and how she is “so fucking wasted”. The muscle Queens with their vest removed and tucked into their ‘George at Asda’ jeans dancing ferociously and checking out their own reflection in the mirrored walls. Or the vile old Guys who think it’s appropriate to try and grab your crotch as a pulling technique.

See I told you people judge. I am one of them. Its not intentional but I do. There are a million other categories sauntering around the booze-fuelled hoopla and I’m sure I fit into one that must equally drive someone else crazy.

My conclusion is this. Inside I’m still hurting a lot. But I’m not sure what else to do. I don’t just want to meet anyone but the only time I have ever been over someone is when I have met someone else. Now granted maybe two weeks post breakup isn’t ideal to be on the search but I just think why not?

I think I deserve to be happy and I will find someone who deserves me. Granted I may not find them in the venue I speak of but until that happens, I’m going to have an amazing time with some amazing friends, drinking ‘Jagermeister’ and stomping it out on every dance floor in the city!

.M.

My London Our London

I woke up this morning with the sun burning through my skylight.

In my delicate state (having had 3 hours sleep/copious Vodka Redbulls/Jagerbombs the night before) I outstretched an unsteady hand towards my ringing phone. The next 10 minutes invoved me desperately attemting to appear fresh as a daisy whilst simoultaniously performing a monologue regarding child welfare to the lady on the line. Shockingly this is not my normal morning routine however since i recently returned to London from living in Tokyo, i will take any form of employment i can get. This telephone interview and casual roleplay was infact to be the most productive part of my day. (obviously appart from starting this blog)

Since i have spent my morning attempting to gain employment in a field i have little to no interest in i figured it may be time for a change.

However before i move forward i just want to take a look back at a few important events that led to this point.

So I have been working out in Japan for the last 8 months. Whilst in Tokyo I met a boy and fell in LOVE. Now i must warn you this is not going to be a romanticised account of two western males meeting in a strange land. Oh no, this is merely a quick note on instinct and stupidity. It is how i realised that maybe for the most part i am a horrible judge of character and try as i might… a hopless and foolish romantic.

I feel like once you place the label of ‘Love’ on any situation problems may arrise. With that word comes expectation and responsibility. Now without going into to much detail my relationship was volitile. Boy could we argue, but that was part of what made us great together. We were both so headstrong that when we faught the room shook. On the reverse of this lying next to him and just being around him is one of the nicest experiences i had out there.

Uppon my return to the UK we  were unsure of our future together (he was to stay in japan for another 3 months and was also Australian). But soon after we decided to be together with the intension of him moving to London for his career and i hoped for me. Im now a month down the line and well… events didn’t pan out as well as i had planned. unfortunately the relationship has come to an end and not a very nice one. I have been left feeling lied to and betrayed and i guess embarassed.

The video attatched is one i took of London. It’s my favorite parts of this beautiful city and i wanted to share that with him. This gift is still finding its way accross the world thanks to the reliability of the great British Post service. So he will soon recieve this however due to the circumstances of the breakup it will have no meaning any more.

I have named my blog after this video to remind myself to trust my instincts when i have doubts. To not give to much to a person that has yet to prove they are 100% commited to you. and to also not be embarassed by what has happened as all you did was care for someone who didn’t deserve it.

Now i promise this is the most sappy thing i will ever write!

.M.