Queer Diaries

Today is January the 31st. On this day back in 1606 Catholic insurgent Guy Fawkes was executed (actually hanged, drawn and quartered, in so typically subtle English manner) for trying to blow up in the air the Parliament of England. Pretty much the same institution Puritan Cromwell will dissolve less than 50 years later.

I always felt sorry for Fawkes, for Mary Stuart, beheaded by three blows upon orders of Elisabeth, and for her grandson Charles, beheaded upon orders of that same Cromwell. And for many other historical figures who were tortured and killed throughout history. Yes, I used to be a good man. Well, if not good, than definitely better than I am now.  I mean, I used to think that people around me are generally good persons. So, I did my best to be as good to them as possible. As I grew old, I found that human beings are generally bad, often evil, deceiving, unreliable, selfish, incompetent, arrogant and cruel. That used to surprise me and cause me profound sorrow for quite some time, but, it turned out that I’m not unable to adapt after all. I became a profound and honest cynic, half-full of disgust and distrust towards many others, even when meeting them for the very first time. And much more determined to ferociously defend what’s mine than before.  My younger bro’ has shown me today an unpleasant e-mail he got earlier in the morning from one of his colleagues in the office. Man, what an aggression I’ve felt towards person I’ve never seen in my entire life! Such strong desire to hurt someone used to embarrass me profoundly even only a year or two ago. Today, I am not ashamed any more to admit to myself this “beast hurling within”. I even dare (even though this is supposedly an anonymous blog) to admit it publicly. What would I do if I really met this unknown person in a real life? Would I hurt that stranger somehow? And, if the answer to the previous question is yes: how? I remember a friend of mine who told me not so long ago; “What I like about you is that you never forget one thing: revenge is a dish that is best served cold!”  

Yap, I’m finally growing up, leaving behind all illusions, innocence (not just of the body, but even more of the soul) and, ultimately, hope. Learning to live with all these losses, as it is something perfectly normal. Well, it was quite about time, for someone already deep in his forties.

Hello, World! Call me Hal. Is that my real name? Of course it isn’t. But, what’s in a name anyway? So, why Hal? A long. long time ago, in a galaxy not so far away someone tried to teach me computer programming. And the book started with writing “Hello World!” on the screen. Which was quite about everything I learned about programming. And the most notorious computer known to me is Hal the Murderer from “Space Odyssey 2001″.  Didn’t like the movie. Can’t like something that you watch for three times trying to figure out what the hell is it all about, and still have no clue whatsoever. So, let it be Hal. For the time being.

I’m Caucasian, male. I’m pretty sure that my ancestors swept the Romans out of their Empire some 1.600 years ago. I’m not as old as I intend to become but am much older than I feel and should be. I’m brown, I’m cut, I’m gay and I am not very fond of blogging. Feels like wanking in public, to be honest. And wanking in public is almost always and everywhere prohibited. Which is why so many people enjoy doing it, I presume.

So, why do I blog, after all? For several reasons. To practice my English (yeah, not my native language). To record thoughts and memories in a vain (yet so human) attempt to create something that may outlive me. To share memories with friends to whom I do not write as often as I should. To claim that I write, therefore I think. To force myself to dedicate a small portion of my daytime to sit back and contemplate a bit about the day gone by and events and thoughts worth remembering. To expose myself publicly, yap, and probably (hopefully) after some time stop feeling so embarrassed about it. To jump out of the closet and say something about the difference that may be not so different as many would think.

And who the hell is Cioran? A Romanian philosopher. His “Extimate Diaries” (where “extimate” serves as the very opposite of “intimate”) were the very first blog in history. Even before the Internet era and the rise of blogging.