21 X 2002 - 22:55 - verba34

Part 2 of an Alchera-related entry: click here to go straight to the link to the previous part. Why not just put one here? Good question. I think it's because I'm contrary like that.

I'm afraid there is a very limited view of me available from my writings here. Hard as I try (and as much as I am) the fact of writing is able to remove much of my pettiness and irrationality. (I hate it when my sentence is irresolute and changes tack midway through.) The question of identity is a slippery one, has been from birth; ask most first-generation natives, but look at the Internet, too. There at last I am calm, collected, in my wits and enamored of reason to battle a tide of emotion that rises and gives no quarter. I've no Cuchulain to do battle with the sea for my sake [and he was enchanted, anyway]...

Sometimes, I wonder if you really know me. I enter the home stretch -- there are people who have known me for fifteen years yet still exclaim with wonder when I pick up a pen and demonstrate that I am indeed left-handed. Sometimes I can't help myself and I dream it might be nice to have someone who knew me well, before I realize that with my temperament I'd like as not feel it a fierce threat instead, an asasult on MY identity, thank you. Obviously I am not yet fully secure ni myself. And yet to have a complement finally who perhaps would know what it is to be Chinese and gay and so goddamn sick of having to explain who you are, how you got here, and just how the hell you ended up in the promised land if you've not even the volume to stick up for yourself half the time -- so that's an understanding I seek. So here's another: what it is to be in San Francisco, the gay mecca for Christ's sake and young and growing and what a blessing? well perhaps but living here doesn't end isolation or shame or culture or parents all of which (let's face it) are kind of universals. And what it is tob e Chinese and to have it thought that you've no fire and then to be yelled at for showing it -- yes, there's another specialized knowledge I could do with a bit less of or maybe with more understanding of, I'm not sure which. What do I know? after all, I'm just a child...

I may be repressing a hell of a lot but I am far from dead.

Sometimes I don't know how much I should doubt myself. I have wonderful people who believe in me and just when they've convinced me I'm not horrible and that I can safely have faith in humanity and the goodness of the world, events and other people catch up with me and there I am, back where I started. I seem to end up there a lot these days.

Sometimes I wonder if knowing me is enough. There are times when I grow sick of being one of so few my age it seems to realize that gentility and order must have their warriors, too. Yes, but then who is to be a warrior for me if I find I lack strength to do it myself? I am being unfair to the youth of today...

I seek one who understand and will not censure this conflict; society tels me that because I am young and male the hormones flooding my system should be screaming at me to penetrate ... something. This is contrary to what I feel myself calling for and indeed as a person not (let's face it) too removed from boyhood (born too old? perhaps) I am not supposed to know let alone entertaine or semidesire the thought of being fucked and S/M? let me tell you already that I belong in hell, corrupt.

But still there's doubt -- I know who I'd choose hell yes but do I, ego, Jay really want what I say I want or is it my hormones speaking? That isn't as important a question as: if the opportunity were to spring up this instant (it won't, I promise), would I allow myself to have it? I doubt my own wants: is it good for me in teh long run from the little information I have now, am I ready emotionally, psychically? There are times I want to say SCREW what is good and instead I will throw myself at someone's feet, but then the Voice of Reason (he lives just behind my left temple) says that I may feel happy in the short term having abandoned the Way but the guilt will be horrendous in the eventual.

So then if I don't really know myself, how on earth is it fair to ask of you that you do?

Click here to go to the first half of the entry.