A question you hear a lot as a gay man: top or bottom?
For day 69, I was really looking forward to posting another sexy-minded blog.
But it came too quickly.
I'll be here all night.
Any time I include something vaguely sexual in the title, in the body, or in the photographs on this blog, my viewership rockets. Maybe I should just drag unsuspecting readers here under the false pretense of nudes or erotica? Might be to my benefit, really...
Sensationalized headlines aren't really my thing. So that's out. I don't too often feel like getting naked for a camera--a present from me to you. And while I've never tried my hand at erotic writing, I don't think I'd be too deft.
Ah, hell, let's give it a shot.
Amanda tugged at her bra straps. Emory swiped his belt. They met, forged by lust, a hammer and anvil in sweltering, immolating passion. They did unspeakable things. They made sounds like animals. They had sexual intercourse and it was very hot.
Damn: now that's a scene.
Predictably, erotica's not for me.
But that doesn't mean I can't give it a shot. While I may never seize the opportunity to write a masterpiece of entwining limbs and reckless passion, the possibility is comforting. An array of options: that's what keeps us on our toes. It's the same line of thinking that propagates choice as the ultimate freedom. You can do this, you can do that; the blank is never occupied at the end of the question.
That's why I choose to be versatile.
And I mean it. The most beautiful part of existence is that every path, every road, every option is viable, is tangible, is possible. Some take more work than others--and some make no fucking sense. But that's fine. Being open to the possibility of difference and the unforeseen: it's worth it. And so are you.
I used to be on OKCupid. The worst part of a dating site is the setup. I loathe talking about myself (which I understand makes no sense since attention is my lifeblood) and I never felt like it allowed me to represent who I am. I guess the same applies to anything you develop for the world to view. It's always going to be an idealized snapshot of who you are. I like to think that sincerity and vulnerability--two of my favorite qualities--help mediate that, but it's difficult to say.
In many ways, being versatile is my identity.
I don't mind getting dirty.
I'm perfectly at home in a hunting hat and cutoffs.
Or in a wig.
Or looking like this.
Or stepping in a decomposed deer while hiking in flip-flops.
Maybe not that last one. That's a story for another time.
But you get it.
I guess I'm trying to persuade you, dear reader, that being versatile is sexy. That one-note is boring. That opening yourself up to experience is a stunning and crucial part of existence. And being proud of the conglomerated mess that you are is some kind of wonderful.
As for the answer to the question posed at the beginning of the blog?
I think I'll leave it blank.