Quiet? What’s that?

Slowly in an instant it comes back to me, the unstoppable race from street to avenue, dodging the skinny-suit pretty straight boys and strangely angry-content tourists losing themselves in full-retail commerce therapy and junk food (jean shorts and fanny packs are still the rage in mid-America I see). 

Should get my Murray Hill keys today. Building has a lot of amenities that lull me into thinking I’m getting what I’m paying for. Swinging roof deck grownup playground overlooking the East River and the city. I’ll be taking endless selfies there if I can find the right light. 

Which leads me to my Instagram. Yes, these social media narcissism tricks are not just for kids. When I was younger I never liked to have my picture taken, not sure why. Maybe because I compared my looks to others with unrealistic scrutiny. But that’s just a part of the false insouciance of youth. Yeah, I’m too cool to be in a picture with you. Also, being the deep end of the shallow pool I am, I tended to date guys who I thought were prettier. This disqualified me from the majority of the attention. Perhaps not rightfully so, but as I’ve learned over the years, we never see ourselves the way others see us; it’s not possible to have an objective judgement of one’s self unless, let’s say, a documentary film is being made and we get to see up on screen just how much of a misdirected human being we are. But I never wanted to be defined by what others thought of me, which brings me back to my original point of the blatant narcissism of Instagram. Some of the cheesy ass/flex pics I take are an act of allegorical defiance against my own self-consciousness about getting older and being gay. If everything happens for a reason then yeah, my cheesy selfies are an act of emancipation. As the comedienne Wanda Sykes said once: “I love getting older, because the older I get, the less I care. The words ‘I don’t give a fuck’ just FLY outta my mouth.” Pretty much says it. 

I’m working with big hands and no coffee on my iPhone so I’ll make the day’s escape here. Tomorrow I’ll be blogging from my decked out kitchen overlooking the bodies in the East River. Cheers, thanks a lot. 

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