I have more stories to blog about now than ever before, including the early days when everything in the gay world was new and exciting and confusing. I've got stories of drugs, sex and rock & roll (and I'm not just using a famous phrase, I mean that). There are pornstars and sugar-daddies. Threesomes and bribery. Complicated relationships. Infidelity and HIV. Celebrities of all stripes. Travel, jealousy and family issues. Dating drama, money woes, and health concerns. Fabulous parties and once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Funny predicaments and substance abuse. New hobbies and new vices. Friends and happiness and a whole lot of gratitude. And, of course, LOVE. And loss.
If I do say so myself, my life is really interesting right now. And it has all the elements that would make a good blog. Plenty of moral dilemmas about which y'all could opine (and slam me and my friends, as you do). Plenty of learning experiences for the young'uns. Plenty of craziness through which others could live vicariously. Plenty of variety and room for growth. I regret that I'm not writing it down so I can remember it when I'm old and boring.
But every time I feel like sitting down to write something, which is often, I think about all the people who are reading it. And it's not that I'm becoming a more private person, or that the stakes are higher (for me). It's just that I don't feel like I'm in control of my story any longer. I always made calculated risks in what I wrote, because almost no story is JUST about me. There was always a slim chance that I'd offend somebody in real life. But lately, every time I make that calculation, it isn't worth the risk.
Part of it is that a small but increasing number of the cast of characters whose lives intertwine with mine DO have a lot to lose. I can't tell some of my best stories because they're also their stories, and I'm not about to be that guy who tips off TMZ. For example, a couple months ago, [____] admitted to me that [____] had [____], right after they [____], which is a pretty damn far cry from the Jesus-freak he portrays himself to be. And it's a really fucking hot story, too. And just last weekend, I had this FANTASTIC story about [_____] and [____], wearing [____] and [____], naturally, since it was Halloween, getting walked in on by [_____], of all people, while we were busy [_____] in a [_____], just after I [_____]. And just a few hours before that, [_____] came within inches of [_____], not to mention [_____], because he was [_____]. It was all very exciting and sexy and extremely funny, and my first thought was to come home and blog about it. But it's not really that funny with all the details bleeped out, is it? No, it's not. At all. Even I'm annoyed when I use [____], which is becoming increasingly common. It's not that I couldn't disguise things enough that you couldn't guess. But if it ever did get out, I wouldn't want to have to explain to my friends why I told the whole world [____], even in a disguised form.
But that's only a small fraction of the stories that don't make it here. I guess, for the most part, it's that I don't want to have to explain myself in real life. I'm not ashamed of anything I would write about, because I'm not ashamed of anything I've been doing. But back in the beginning, I knew I'd never have to answer for it. It's one thing for tens of thousands of strangers to get a laugh about some masturbation mishap, or whatever I used to write about. It's another thing to have somebody bring it up at dinner. And even the knowing glance is more than I want to deal with.
If you keep a diary, you'll understand. You wouldn't particularly care if some random guy in Indonesia who you'll never meet reads it. But you wouldn't want your friends reading it, even if it were totally vanilla. If you thought they might, you wouldn't write very much. You want to control the release of information to those you love, not because you want to hide it, but because that's how relationships are supposed to work. I want to WATCH my friends laughing about [_____] when I tell the story in person, rather than have them laugh in front of their computer when I'm not there. I want to explain to somebody how they hurt my feelings, rather than have them read about it as if it were a news story. Blogging used to feel like I was writing a private journal. Now it feels like I'm writing an email to my friends. And there are certain things you just don't say in an email to friends.
Anyway, if you're a new blogger starting out, my advice is this: NEVER reveal your identity. It'll be the death of your blog. If I could hit the reset button and erase the memory of my blog from everybody in Los Angeles, Boston and New York, I'd do it, and then I'd write a lot more (wait, is there a way to do that? Can I block the IP addresses of whole cities?) I guess I could start over with a new blog, and try to build new readership. But that's more work than I'm willing to put in.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not quitting. Every now and then I think of things I want to write about, and I'll continue to do so. I guess I just felt like lamenting. It's not what it used to be, and that makes me sad.
Ok, I'm gonna go drink some Baileys and read Vanity Fair. Even though Robert Pattinson is on the cover, which I just don't get. He's not even that good looking, and he sounds retarded when he talks. To each her own, I guess.
If I do say so myself, my life is really interesting right now. And it has all the elements that would make a good blog. Plenty of moral dilemmas about which y'all could opine (and slam me and my friends, as you do). Plenty of learning experiences for the young'uns. Plenty of craziness through which others could live vicariously. Plenty of variety and room for growth. I regret that I'm not writing it down so I can remember it when I'm old and boring.
But every time I feel like sitting down to write something, which is often, I think about all the people who are reading it. And it's not that I'm becoming a more private person, or that the stakes are higher (for me). It's just that I don't feel like I'm in control of my story any longer. I always made calculated risks in what I wrote, because almost no story is JUST about me. There was always a slim chance that I'd offend somebody in real life. But lately, every time I make that calculation, it isn't worth the risk.
Part of it is that a small but increasing number of the cast of characters whose lives intertwine with mine DO have a lot to lose. I can't tell some of my best stories because they're also their stories, and I'm not about to be that guy who tips off TMZ. For example, a couple months ago, [____] admitted to me that [____] had [____], right after they [____], which is a pretty damn far cry from the Jesus-freak he portrays himself to be. And it's a really fucking hot story, too. And just last weekend, I had this FANTASTIC story about [_____] and [____], wearing [____] and [____], naturally, since it was Halloween, getting walked in on by [_____], of all people, while we were busy [_____] in a [_____], just after I [_____]. And just a few hours before that, [_____] came within inches of [_____], not to mention [_____], because he was [_____]. It was all very exciting and sexy and extremely funny, and my first thought was to come home and blog about it. But it's not really that funny with all the details bleeped out, is it? No, it's not. At all. Even I'm annoyed when I use [____], which is becoming increasingly common. It's not that I couldn't disguise things enough that you couldn't guess. But if it ever did get out, I wouldn't want to have to explain to my friends why I told the whole world [____], even in a disguised form.
But that's only a small fraction of the stories that don't make it here. I guess, for the most part, it's that I don't want to have to explain myself in real life. I'm not ashamed of anything I would write about, because I'm not ashamed of anything I've been doing. But back in the beginning, I knew I'd never have to answer for it. It's one thing for tens of thousands of strangers to get a laugh about some masturbation mishap, or whatever I used to write about. It's another thing to have somebody bring it up at dinner. And even the knowing glance is more than I want to deal with.
If you keep a diary, you'll understand. You wouldn't particularly care if some random guy in Indonesia who you'll never meet reads it. But you wouldn't want your friends reading it, even if it were totally vanilla. If you thought they might, you wouldn't write very much. You want to control the release of information to those you love, not because you want to hide it, but because that's how relationships are supposed to work. I want to WATCH my friends laughing about [_____] when I tell the story in person, rather than have them laugh in front of their computer when I'm not there. I want to explain to somebody how they hurt my feelings, rather than have them read about it as if it were a news story. Blogging used to feel like I was writing a private journal. Now it feels like I'm writing an email to my friends. And there are certain things you just don't say in an email to friends.
Anyway, if you're a new blogger starting out, my advice is this: NEVER reveal your identity. It'll be the death of your blog. If I could hit the reset button and erase the memory of my blog from everybody in Los Angeles, Boston and New York, I'd do it, and then I'd write a lot more (wait, is there a way to do that? Can I block the IP addresses of whole cities?) I guess I could start over with a new blog, and try to build new readership. But that's more work than I'm willing to put in.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not quitting. Every now and then I think of things I want to write about, and I'll continue to do so. I guess I just felt like lamenting. It's not what it used to be, and that makes me sad.
Ok, I'm gonna go drink some Baileys and read Vanity Fair. Even though Robert Pattinson is on the cover, which I just don't get. He's not even that good looking, and he sounds retarded when he talks. To each her own, I guess.
posted by Matt at 9:05 PM
11 Comments:
The whole time I was reading this, I was dreading the fact that you were going to shut it down but then you said you weren't and I'm happy.
You were one of the first blogs I "followed" (not even, cause I didn't know anything about blogging world and all that stuff)so many years ago when I was still in high school (now I'm in college and a lot has changed...)
I didn't really know some of the things you were talking about back then (cept Brent Corrigan) but as I approach the same things you were going back then, it gives me hope (and inspiration) that I'm not the only one that went through it. Its weird that I don't even know you but I still want to hear about what's going on with your life.
I keep an online journal too and I completely understand that whole "I don't want my real life friend to know part" and Pattinson isn't that hot. =)
FMS
You make excellent sense.
And the advice not to reveal your identity on your blog is excellent. I'd add, that also means don't tell your friends you're blogging unless you're writing it for them.
Matty, I'm waiting until you get seriously wealthy before I reveal your identity to the world. If you stop blogging, how will I cash in?
Looking forward to dinner Friday - Saint Felix ok?
I wish I had been givin this blogging advice 2 years ago. I've lost a lot of friends from my blog, but I continue to write in it because it's what I vent on. I'm just more smart with how I word it.
High schools hard enough with me being gay, my blog never helped. But I think that whats happened has made me a stronger person.
Shame you won't be writing as much on this blog anymore, I only started reading it recently and your posts about coming out really helped me.
Thanks.
It's like choose your own adventure; insert whatever name in the [ ] and go from there!
I just want you to start writing for all. Your blogs continue to be engaging and well-written (a novelty in the blogging world, I think). Hopefully I'll stumble upon a novel or a book of short stories someday with the same insight and flair. I may never know that you're the author, but I can hope. Thanks for all the readings.
I don't get the deal with Pattinson either. Saw him at Comic-Con last year and he was a bit of a flake.
I keep a diary under my real name with real photos, and I really do NOT understand. But then, I'm somewhat older, and of the out proud generation that got you your culture, media, and venues. Sadly this is all under threat because the current generation feels everything has to be hidden under marital bedcovers again. That is why I'm against gay marriage: we're different and don't belong under covers. In another decennium, you'll all be accused of being the prudish scared generation that dropped us into a crisis by not communicating on stuff thast really mattered.
Why don't you see that it isn't about namedropping. You can leave that to Perez Hilton, but it could be about what you do or not and how you come to decisions.
I've always written about everything that occupies my thoughts, personal issues, like third or fourth coming outs about fetishes and preferences. They're just the things we all have doubts about and discussing 'm could help others: The only criterium has always been, does it bring friends or myself in trouble with the law, or "would I tell my best friends". Sure, my best friends sometimes are emberassed, like myself. but I never lost one of them through writing. You may lose some who are insecure, but they will return, if and when they get wiser. Friends do read my weblog, and their comments are a great help in focussing on themes they feel worthwhile. That kept my blog going for over 10 years and through good and bad times. Remember, the best writing is not about how fantastic life is going for you, which you only seem to be able to do with a lot of [___]'s , which only shows you're not really leading your own life, but writing and learning about what is troubling you and others. Please don't make L.A. even more shallow; I'd hate to drop you off my link list.
This post has been removed by the author.
[sorry--i always find shit that needs fixing after i hit "publish"]
when i started blogging, i let a couple of my friends in on the joke--just to keep me honest, you know?
two unintended consequences of that decision: (1) between my posts and their comments, the blog has became a dialogue between us that has strengthened and deepened our relationships in unexpected ways; and (2) i've found myself self-censoring in ways that i wouldn't have had i remained totally anonymous (but thankfully not having to worry about it nearly as much as you).
if i have more freedom with what i write than you, console yourself between shots of baileys with the fact that it's because my humble blog enjoys but a mere fraction of your readership, which limits my potential fallout considerably--or, as kris kristofferson once memorably wrote, "freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose."
[i hope this makes sense, but at this point in the evening i wouldn't guarantee it]
So this is mad libs now?
"For example, a couple months ago, [____] admitted to me that [____] had [____], right after they [____], which is a pretty damn far cry from the Jesus-freak he portrays himself to be."
Here's a try:
For example, a couple months ago, Alan Thicke admitted to me that Kirk Cameron had OD'ed on cocaine, right after they sacrificed someone to Satan, which is a pretty damn far cry from the Jesus-freak he portrays himself to be.
Close or not close?
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