Everybody leaves and life doesn't stop for anyone.

Everyone has something or someone. A boyfriend, girlfriend, best friend, a passion. Everyone has something or someone to spend their time with except me. I’ve had these things and all I ever seem to do is loose them. I had a perfect relationship with a perfect guy and it turned to shit, actually he did. I met a beautiful girl who I knew I could share myself with and I only got the chance to have her in my arms for a year until she left town. I see her every now and then but it’s not the same. Last year I became extremely close with another girl who I believe I helped through alot and she helped me. She left town too, and it sucks you know? She was always there when I was feeling lonely and had no one elses shoulder to lean on, she was there. And she’s gone. After she left I became friends pretty quickly with a girl who is also, fucking leaving. I think that if one more person leaves my life I am too. I can’t deal with this heart ache one more time. I hurt and I’m lonley. I have a few more people in my life left that keep me together but I can't help but feel like everything is falling apart.

I don't want to waste anytime but I just can't grasp it.

I don't feel comfortable getting close to people because all I can ever think about when I'm with them is how much it's going to hurt when I lose them. I've figured out that life isn't about getting married and having kids, or having to latest designer clothes or having a ton of friends or having the bank in your back pocket. It's about experiencing as most as you can. But I'd still like to like nice and have someones hand to hold. There's something so appealing to me about living day to day on luck and zero cents. One of my favourite things to feel is a cold breeze during the night. I'm kind of fascinated by the way peoples legs and feet sit. All those 'jokes' you say? They hurt, they stung and theu keep ringing on my ears along with all the other things that have broke me. They hurt me so much I couldn't hold it in any longer and I completely broke down. Your response? "Oh get over yourself." I always get this feeling during the holidays. I keep getting this feeling when I get anxious or nervous that makes me want to faint and I hate it. In a few days I'll be able to say "this day, a year ago, I saw your skinny white boney body in the flesh for the first time" and it sickens me. I didn't want to be this person. I'm not looking for a soul mate but I just want someone to spend my time with and someone to consume the lonliness that is consuming me. "Choose fucking up every chance you get in the pursuit of finding something pure."

Time to grow up.

It's time to grow up.

"One thing we learn from high school, is that life goes on."

Who needed light? Lovers didn't. Their own love was light enough to see by.

I've always wanted to believe in this Post Secret and now I can.

I just have this fantastic feeling right now. I feel like a barrier's been broken down and that I have nothing to hide. I'm sick of having to tip-toe around peoples feelings when all they do is trod on mine. What makes you think I have to put with your shit? If you're upsetting me you bet your ass I'll let you know. I don't have a care in the world.

From The Heart.

 

I need to write this.

I’ve been traveling alone in Japan for the better part of three weeks now, and it’s been so remarkable an experience for me that I can’t book a ticket home yet. I haven’t spoken very much out loud these days, but I’ve been thinking to myself in what feels like surround sound. I can see so many things clearly, and feel so connected to myself and the world around me that I need to share the perspective with you.

I’m already aware that when I sing, say or write anything, 50 percent of the response will be in support of it and the other 50 will want to discount it. This blog, though, is directed to 100 percent of people reading it. If my blog truly does have any cultural effect, then it should be used for more than just pictures of sneakers and funny youtube videos. (If you don’t think my blog has any effect, than you can’t by definition be reading this right now and therefore don’t have to respond to it in any way. Isn’t that tidy?)

What I’m about to write isn’t about fame or success or celebrity or the media. That’s my business.

This is about us all.

This is about a level of self consciousness so high in my generation, that it’s actually toxic.

This is about the girl in her bedroom who poses in front of the camera she’s awkwardly holding in her outstretched hand. She’ll take a hundred photos until coming up with one she’s happy with, which inevitably looks nothing like her, and after she’s done poring over images of herself, will post one on her myspace page and then write something like ” I don’t give a fuck what you think about me.”

This is about the person trying out for American Idol, who while going off about how confident they are that they were born ready to sing in front of the world, are trembling so badly they can hardly breathe.

This is about me, the guy who walks through a throng of photographers into a restaurant like he’s Paul Newman, but who leaves a “reject” pile of clothes in his closet so high that his cleaning lady can’t figure out how one man can step into so many pairs of pants in a week.

This is about a young guy who maintains a celebrity blog that subsists on tearing other people down but who has wrestled with a lifelong battle for acceptance as a gay man.

This is about us all. Every one of us. Who all seem to know deep down that it’s incredibly hard to be alive and interact with the world around us but will try and cover it up at any cost. For as badass and unaffected as we try to come off, we’re all just one sentence away from being brought to the edge of tears, if only it was worded right. And I don’t want to act immune to that anymore. I took the biggest detour from myself over the past year, since I decided that I wasn’t going to care about what people thought about me. I got to the point where I had so much padding on that, sure, I couldn’t feel the negativity, but that’s because I couldn’t feel much of anything. And I think I’m done with that.

I’m not the first person to admit we’re all self conscious, Kanye was. But what I want to do is to shed a little light on why we’re all in the same boat, no matter the shape of the life we lead: because every one of us were told since birth that we were special. We were spoken to by name through a television. We were promised we could be anything that we wanted to be, if only we believed it and then, faster than we saw coming, we were set loose into the world to shake hands with the millions of other people who were told the exact same thing.

And really? Really? It turns out we’re just not all that special, when you break it down. Beautifully unspectacular, actually. And that truth is going to catch up with us whether we want to run from it or not. The paparazzo following me to the gym ain’t gonna be Herb Ritts and the guy he’s following ain’t gonna be Bob Dylan. It’s just a matter of how old you are once you embrace that fact. And for me, 30 sounds about right.

What now, then? I can only really say for myself: Enjoy who I am, the talents and the liabilities. Stop acting careless. In fact, care more. Be vulnerable but stay away from where it hurts. Read. See more shows. Of any kind. Rock shows, art shows, boat shows. Create more art. Wear hoodies to dinner. Carry a notebook and hand it to people when they passionately recommend something and ask them to write it down for me. Root for others. Give more and expect the same in return, but over time.

Act nervous when I’m nervous, puzzled when I don’t know what the hell to do, and smile when it all goes my way. And never in any other order than that.

And when it’s all over, whether at the end of this fabulous career or of this life, which I hope takes place at the same time, I should look back and say that I had it good and I made the most of it while I was able. And so should you.

I’m going quiet now.

John