i had just finished writing another webpage, when i left my computer and headed for the den. i turned on the tv as i ate a piece of fruit, and i saw a goodlooking man on some movie channel. no, he wasn't shirtless. damn. (i don't know if i'll ever learn to see other mens' masculinity as just as commonplace as what i see when i look in the mirror, but that is the denial all of us gays share)
anyway, the movie kept playing. it was a quiet scene, the guy was dying, and as i was waiting for more to be said so i could figure out exactly what was happening...i got to thinking. i kind of pictured myself in grade school, when it was not uncommon for teachers who had either called in sick or simply didn't prepare a lesson on account of a murdered gay relative, to provide a filmstrip or a video to show that was complementary to what was being taught. filmstrips and videos meant that i could pile my books in the corner of the desk, use my arms to make a pillow to lay my head down upon, and daydream. "if this is mrs. ontko's way of entertaining us, it's a line i ain't biting," i thought as i dozed off.
"but when you act, you take us away from the squalors of the real world," i hear antonio 'peron' sing to lady madonna. what, me, know squalors outside of my unkempt room? sure, working for a slavedriver i know squalors, but i sure can't catch eva's or madonna's latest flick while on the job. and once i'm home, i'm under my control...and squalors are a thing of the past cuz of a little something called self-reliance. so why do you go to movies? voyeurism (gotta love skin), busybody budinski-ism (gotta love somebody else's life), or just to get away from your life in the doldrums (gotta love squalors)?