Archive for Vanity

Talk the Talk

Day 10,290 – Wednesday – 26 Agrahayana 1930 – 18 Zilhaj 1429 – 17 December 2008

So, the other day, I met up with a gay friend of mine. Nice guy. Very very good looking. Single. And looking. So, if you are interested, drop me a line. He has all of my good qualities, and to top that off he is fair, beautiful, well built and charming. So, a very good catch. Applications are welcome Monday through Friday from 1900 hours to 0900 hours and even during the day timings on the weekend.

So, two young gay guys, both single and looking, in the same car. The discussion on homosexuality was inevitable. We discussed all the different sorts of guys one meets. How society has shaped them. And how they behave.

There is the i-am-pure-top guy who is an absolute dick, extremely desirable, but completely deflated after an initial burst of producing interest in oneself. And yes, if you are not going to give a blow job, and touching cum is disgusting to you, dude, you are str8, so stop fucking guys simply because you could not get a girl (this is not meant to offend guys who are actually gay and have feelings similar to what I have written above). You can blow me or get the fuck out of my bed.

There is the i-am-oh-so-effeminate guy who is an absolute woman, says he is masculine, then plays with his extremely well maintained eye brows and bats his eye lashes at the waiter shamelessly. Ok, so when we were talking on the phone, why the fuck did you have a fake voice? And why the hell did you tell me that everyone tells you that you are so str8 acting. Dont you think I will see through the ten pounds of hair product, obscenely manicured eye brows, incredibly slated gait and demeanour, and the eye lash batting. Oh please! Dont lie to me, and if you did, you had better sleep with the waiter.

There is the i-am-so-fashionably-cool guy who is in showbiz, says he cares about people and is down to earth, but he has the ego the size of my dick when it is erect (read huge) and the huge flowers on his shirts make him look incredibly gay, and yes, everyone knows that you are gay because your clothes scream it out, and to top it off, if you make fun of my French Pronunciations, you are an elitist dick, even when you are mis pronouncing every Urdu word by default because you want to make sure that you dont seem like you know the language spoken in your city by 99.5% of the people.

There is the i-am-so-emotionally-needy guy who would want to talk on the phone all the time and thinks it is romantic and not creepy, but he doesnt realize that there are people who have jobs and lives and will greet you at 7 pm by “did you remember me now after the whole day?”. My reply until now was, I am so sorry, I thought that since we talked on the phone for two hours last night, one hour of which I was begging you to let me go, I can not call you till seven today. My reply, from now onwards is going to be, shut the fuck up and suck my sugar frosted dick, biyatch.

Oh and yes, sorry, but the quality of your skin is not the only good thing about you. Brainless idiot.

We also decided that in spite of these, and oh so many other negative stereotypes there are many good guys out there, we have both been with some.

And then we started discussing which hotel in Karachi is the best. For having sexual trysts in. We did not reach an agreement. I liked Beach Luxury and he liked Hotel Mehran. Oh well! Maybe ill try it next time.

Despair

Day 10,274 – Monday – 10 Agrahayana 1930 – 02 Zilhaj 1429 – 01 December 2008

I feel that being dark, hairy, fat, ugly and generally disgusting is causing a serious problem in my sex life.

That is, I am not getting enough and I am sex deprived all the time.

Oh God! It is so difficult being ugly like you wouldnt believe.

Writing

Day 10,178 – Sunday – 05 Sravana 1930 – 23 Rajab 1429 – 27 July 2008

And as suddenly as it started. The writers block is over. I have so much to write about. I am suddenly very happy, very excited and very high on how things are with me. Although the fact that I am not immeasurably rich and have the sexual capacity of a rabbit and the choice of sexual partners similar to Justin Timberlake is a constant nag, but I move on in life and enjoy what I do indeed have, as should everyone else, except the fact that this is such an incredibly long sentence that anyone who is still reading has not idea what I am talking about, hence the requirement for psychosis inhibiting pills to be crushed and added to my meals on a regular basis.

So, my ex fiance wants to get back together with me. I don’t know why. She broke off the engagement because she felt that I, read the word “I” again in a very self obsessed narcissistic manner and you will understand the actual pronunciation, had too many issues. Of course I did. No one is perfect. Then why are you coming back to me to beg, and I mean beg, me to take her back. Why? I am so confused? If I didn’t hate her enough for having rejected me, as would anyone else on the face of this planet who does get rejected, I would start doing it simply for this idiotic thing that she has started. I mean come on. You rejected me, left me, dumped me and broke of our engagement. And now you want me to take you back. I am sorry, but revenge is a dish best served cold. You left me once, and I am doing it now. I love being a heartless, calculating, evil man. It is so satisfying.

And then, as if my life was not stressful enough with all the excessive hunting for sex, I get a phone call at 1 am in the morning, it is NA’s mother in law saying that NA has not come home, is he with me. Of course, being a man, I immediately tell her that he was with me, but he must be at the game, at this time his wife takes the phone and starts talking to me. I am very very scared for NA. But, I cant show it, because, one – his wife will get worried, and two – he is my friend so I have to lie for him. So I tell her that he may not be able to use his phone because it was not working during the day. I am so delectably evil and yet available for sex at short notice. I change in 57 seconds, yes I saw this on the watch, and got to my car to find NA the idiot. But, just as I was starting my car, three minutes after the call, NAs wife calls me and tells me that he just called. I am so amazingly nice and yet available for sex at short notice.

Oh, and yes, me and my friend HS went to the wall on the beach. Amazing. It was incredibly cloudy and windy and the waves were absolutely crazy. Loved it. And since HS’s wife reads this, no, we did not smoke a lot. We are both trying to cut back, and we are both reasonable adults who do not lead self destructive lives. There, I said it!

Why the fuck cant I dance well. I hate not being able to dance well. Fuck!

Issues

Day 10,164 – Sunday – 22 Asadha 1930 – 09 Rajab 1429 – 13 July 2008

The problem with meeting too many people for eventual sexual purposes is that one gets to listen to too many things that one does not want to listen to.

I, for one, have had the pleasure of being rejected too many times for the reasons that I am fat, that I am ugly and that I have a small dick in the past two weeks that it is not even humorous any more, rather it is concerning and depressing. With all these faults, I can only thank God that I did indeed get all the sex that I have gotten to date.

Thank you Lord for the sex that you provide.

And yes, I am blogging from my new MacBook. Very very difficult shifting from Windows/PC to X/Mac. But amazing. Will start blogging more often from here.

BH

Day 10,142 – Saturday – 31 Jyaistha 1930 – 16 Jamadi us Sani 1429 – 21 June 2008

Still suffering from a long bout of writers block. I apologize for not adding all the usual colour and flavour to your lives. I have a lot to tell; rest assured. Hopefully tomorrow.

As for now. I am typing a quick post from BH’s very small, compact and weirdly quirky laptop.

It’s very interesting blogging from another PC.

Oh, and yes,  I gave BH my blog addy. She went through it, took special exception to her and her husband being called loosers in a previous post. So, I will set the record straight. BH, you are your husband are not loosers. You are a very interesting couple. The most interesting in the world. There. I said it. Are you happy now? What more do you guys want from me! Why is it never enough. Enough with the theatrics Jalal! Good! So, BH, is this ok?

Abysmal

Day 10,092 – Friday – 12 Vaisakh 1930 – 25 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 02 May 2008

Abysmal. That just about sums up my performance over the past two days.

First Dr Sahab breaks up with me. And then he tells me that we should still be friends, reeling from this revelation he drops by to meet up “as friends” on Wednesday night. Just my luck.

I wake up on Thursday, decide that I can not do the friend thing. He calls me up late at night, just to talk, “as friends”. I told him that being friends is a bit too painful for me. And I think we should cease all contact. To that he gave me his opinion whereby people should be able to remain friends outside and/or after a relationship. But he was benificient enough to allow me to cease contact because different people behave differently. Two people with different opinions, but still able to not kill each other.

So, things had ended. All contact has ceased. I did not want that to happen. A part of me told me that if I remained friends he will come back. I was just not ready for cesession of all relations. And since everyone knows that I am an idiot. I decided to be an idiot. I called him before the Prayer break. And I told him that I think we should remain friends. He, of course, said yes. Stupid. Jalal is stupid. Jalal is stupid.

So, basically, how much should one fall? How much? This is below fall. This is sinking into oblivion. Uggghhhhhh. Now that there is not even a shard of self respect left I need to find an absolutely cute guy, and we need to go out and also invite Dr Sahab and be incredibly loving in front of him. And if possible he can lift the car with his bare arms and I can change the flat tire. And then we can both have sweaty, oily, greasy, grimy man sex in front of the car with Dr Sahab looking on and feeling sorry for his loss.

Jalal you are such an absolute fucking idiot.

Fin

Day 10,090 – Wednesday – 10 Vaisakh 1930 – 23 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 30 April 2008

From 00:06 on the 6th of April 2008 to 22:20 on the 30th of April 2008. 25 days. 598 hours. 35,895 minutes. An exceptionally beautiful period of my life. Everything, completeness and absolution. Generally, words are too ill designed to define beauty. So is the case here. I can only describe comparable feelings and snippets of thought that will be so personalized that the words that describe a cosmos’ worth of meaning to me would mean nothing to anyone else. So, I will not. Because I can not. If there is anything called love / lust at first sight; this was it. And more. Since the first instant, my beliefs that had taken ages to develop in a different environment, came crashing down. I matured at the rate of months per hour. I was transformed completely. Maybe forever.

I get a message at 22:20 on the 30th of April 2008. “yar dont you think we lack in chemistry.i do.it is like we are siblings.have not felt any sparks.it is good that we did not label it.we are better off as friends.what do you think”. Which, as per the norms of the rules of human behaviour and conduct, resulted in an immediate phone call. 11 minutes and 58 seconds later; it was over. It was already too good to be true. I can not have it. Done. Final. Bye. I tried, and also wanted, to spend every moment of my life with him. But. The inevitable but. What beautiful words, if and but. So little, yet so much.

May God save us from unrequited love.

I can still remember the time when he either nodded off or was just lying there. I was wearing my Che Guevara T shirt. He was on my left, cradled in my arms. His nose buried in Che’s beret. I remember thinking at that point in time that I felt so complete that I could do this forever. Later on, when I went home, I sniffed Che’s beret, so I could have the same feeling that he did. And see if he had left any imprint on it. I hate that shirt now.

Humans are such complex creatures. We need to lie. Sugarcoat. Lie. Tell untruths. Use words. Massage egos. Safeguard feelings. And hence, eventually prove to ourselves that since we are not inordinately harsh, in our opinion, on others, we are good people. We rationalize our every action. Since all humans do this, all humans know that the other person is doing this. So, as per the rules of any break up call, I was told that “you are a very nice guy”. Firstly, why the fuck would anyone want to be a nice guy, when they can be marauding barbarians brimming with fulfilled sexual urges. Secondly, I dont understand what the fuck being a nice guy means. Thirdly, why the fuck cant people be original. I mean, sure, you are going to wrench someone’s heart out. But, at least try to be original. It makes for good stories and blog entries after that person has finally gotten over you.

All said and done. He told me multiple times that he didnt feel “the thing” since the beginning. And I was told that this was precisely the reason why I was told very early on not to label this as anything. I did not. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I should know that if I dont label it in congress I should not label it personally. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He took this long because he wanted to ensure that this lack of feeling “the thing” was not due to the issues that he is facing in life. Fair enough. Basically, in plain English, he didnt find me attractive. Period. I mean, sure, I know I am not a good looking guy. And I realize this was not said, but sugarcoated. But, this was definitely not good for my over inflated ego.

After reading all this, I need not have to say this, but, there was no sex in the relationship. There were two occasions when we were alone, and on both occasions I got a bit amorous. Sorry. Horny young man in the presence of possible sex. I need to be forgiven. Please. I realized a couple of days after the second attempt that he did not feel at all attracted to me. He stopped me on both occasions with yet more sugarcoated sentences. Now, I feel so disgusting, so vile, so perverted. I feel like I was conducting rape. I actually shudder when I think of the ramifications of the thing. I just hope I wash myself of this feeling. I dont think most people can understand this, but it was disgusting. I feel so seriously unclean after this experience that it is not easy to explain or write this down.

Guys, and also girls, it doesnt really fucking matter if you have a good personality. It doesnt. It is about the looks. Trust me. For one, I am a guy, and I know this. The ones with the good personality are made friends, and the good looking ones are slept with. Choose your pick. Would you like conversation or sex? I mean, at least for me, I am clear on this. In case you still didnt understand. It is the latter. I have learnt that one should never subordinate sex to any other feelings. I will not do that again.

I was also told that since I am a nice guy he would like to be friends. Sure, it is very easy for you, wrench my heart out and then smile back and want to be friends. I dont know what to do. I dont want to seem weak and vulnerable and sulk. So, I will have to maintain a pretence of friendship. But it is not supposed to be long, he is going to go abroad in a month and a half. I think I can pass that amount of time like this. Hopefully. Fuck. It just feels so fucking painful to just be told sorry good bye all of a fucking sudden. I dont think I have been able to process this. I just started writing as soon as the call was over. Maybe I dont want to deal with this.

There is another thing. I am an idiot. He had been hinting at this for at least a week now. Seems so in retrospect. I just didnt get the hint. I attributed it to something or the other. But the fact of the matter is that I am very very very bad with hints. I keep persisting, until someone tells me in plain English that they are not interesting and that I will not be a part of their life any more. At least I can say that I learnt one thing in this relationship. I should not be making any more effort than the other person and if their interest in me wanes a bit, I should label the relationship as dead. Making an effort on my part and giving the other person the benefit of the doubt is incredibly stupid. It makes things difficult both of myself and the other guy. Lesson learnt. Life will move on.

So, basically, something that I was ready to do anything for. Something that I had invested in emotionally. Something that no words can explain. A happy edge to my life. A beautiful taste to my food. A strong fragrance in my breath. It is over. And all I can do is blog about it.

Yet again, a farewell. One that is so painful to go through, but, a farewell none the less.

PS – Written on Thursday morning. He called me up to meet up with him and a friend last night. Since I had already told him I will do this earlier on in the day, I said yes. I could not say no. It would have been awkward. So, we met up. Incredibly painful. Incredibly. I can not explain. And I seem to have kept up appearances quite reasonably. The moment I got out of the car and said good bye. I knew it. I can not see him again. It is just so fucking painful. I can not see him again.

It is over.