Sunday, July 7, 2013

die young

Yesterday, riding the ferry back from Fire Island, I realized I would have to put on a shirt soon. For three days, I had basically not had to wear a shirt and it was so nice. For three days, I drank pretty much non-stop, lounged by either a pool or the ocean, cruised boys, fooled around with boys, and danced.

There were three minutes on Friday night when my happiness was at its greatest. I was in Cherry Grove dancing in my underwear at the Ice Palace with hundreds of other gays, my friends nearby, cute boys also nearby that I wanted to sleep with, and Ke$ha's "Die Young" came on. For reasons inexplicable (or perhaps explicable if you have ears and like pop music), this song makes me lose my mind. A fog of giddiness and excitement came over me and I stomped around the floor, losing my mind to this song. There was also perhaps a lot of identification with the lyrics in that moment. That I seemed on a path to die young with my consumption intake over those few days. Numerous lines of Adderall were snorted, an absolutely insane quality of vodka was drank, spliffs and cigarettes were smoked as if there was no known correlation between lung cancer and tobacco, and pot brownies were eaten. But the activities are given a fun pop theme song to make it seem all okay, part of life. And it was and it is.

I felt really presently alive despite the substances consumed. I was so happy during these days, met some really nice folks, hooked up with some really nice folks, spent one night alseep outside next to a pool with a young doctor, cuddling under sheets and sucking each other's dicks.

When I realized I would have to put on a shirt again on the ferry ride back, it was an awareness of other things as well, that a metaphorical shirt would be put on as well, that the fun, abandon, sand, and nameless boys would soon give way to work, school, asphalt, and these same boys I seem to obsess over here in New York. I held off for as long as possible, waited until the ferry docked in Sayville before putting back on again the one shirt I had brought with me three days earlier when I thought I was just going to Fire Island for the day.

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