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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13800
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You see I found a picture of the 57 year old man who is the person the boy I fell for at 13 has become. The picture probably does not show him at his best, but it shows him at work in a natural pose.
I'm not concerned about his face. I've altered facially and so has he. There is enough in the face that I can see where the boy once lived. But I'm sad about his posture, his expression, and how lifeless this carefree, athletic, rebellious, cheeky kid seems to have become.
He's at the top of his profession, or at least a single promotion away from it, and he should be looking on top of his game and proud. Instead he looks like a sad, tired, grey faced council employee, though his hair is still brown!
I found myself staring at the picture under which his employer has spelt his name wrong (I love local councils!) and weeping for the loss of the boy and for the quiet "boring uncle" the picture shows, He should be happy, and fun and alive.
He was everything I ever wanted to be when we were kids. Everything. I would have offered to die in his place if he had simply asked me even unkissed.
I'd still like to meet him. I have this weird feeling that my puppy dog pursuit caused him to take some of the decisions he took. Perhaps, if he were ever to let me, I'd see the boy again.
I hope that boy lives inside him. I haven't quite liked him for many years, but I have always loved him.
O the valley in the summer where I and my John
Beside the deep river would walk on and on
While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above
Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love,
And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall
When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball,
The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud
And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud;
'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera
When music poured out of each wonderful star?
Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down
Over each silver or golden silk gown;
'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say:
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O but he was as fair as a garden in flower,
As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower,
When the waltz throbbed out on the long promenade
O his eyes and his smile they went straight to my heart;
'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and obey':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my lover,
You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other,
The sea it was blue and the grass it was green,
Every star rattled a round tambourine;
Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I lay:
But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
"Johnny" by W H Auden
[Updated on: Wed, 07 January 2009 15:26]
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Fingolfin
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Likes it here |
Location: Slovakia
Registered: August 2008
Messages: 265
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Hi, Timmy,
people do change. You have changed as well in those oh so many years. The question stands, whether the change was good or bad. From what I have been reading from you and about you (thank you for that), I am glad you are just the way you are.
And John? Well, we all have those moments when we look troubled, unsure, maybe hesitating...even lifeless (to quote you). I have these moments as well, albeit they have been pretty rare recently. Had someone taken a photo of me then, I would probably have looked unhappy, although I am feeling rather content and satisfied with my life (also thanks to you and your counsel). John is maybe a happy man with a happy family, just the photo took him in a pose, where he did not look son. You never know.
Marek
It is better to switch on a small light than to curse the darkness.
- Vincent Šikula, Slovak writer
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13800
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Well, of course he's changed. But I'm partly basing this on the fact that he is Acting Head of a major probation service. And the Annual Report to the country of the work spells his surname wrong. That shows slapdash working practices, poor attention to detail, and guess what? Yes, the document is his responsibility because he is the acting head!
But the picture is of a 1950s man in a suit, with 1950s hair, and a lifeless pose.
Lifelessness is amazing since it was a shot of him presenting his expertise to an audience. And he looks so bored when he should look animated.
All my life I've known I cannot be part of his life. Apart from self centred longings for him to be in my arms, or me to be on my back with my legs on his shoulders while he loves me passionately and not a little violently, apart from the impossible, I have wanted something for him.
I have wanted him to be happy.
That picture shows a man who is existing, not being happy.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13800
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Well, I am still a kid at heart. So I smiled.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13800
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I've never grieved over him before, you see. Not properly. I'm not yet sure that I am, but it's a start.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13800
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Not for me. You see I found a good quality studio picture of John, as he is today, a successful man at the top of his profession. It's a picture of infinite sadness because he looks downtrodden and somehow world weary.
I can't post it here. But I can describe it.
He has a brown suit, but no means a tailored one, a white shirt and a brown patterned tie. Something says "brown shoes" to me, but then you can't wear a brown suit with black shoes, not really. His wife must hate him. She let him leave for work dressed as a symphony of brown.
His face has a watery smile. The eyes have no light behind them, and the hair needs combing. This is a professional studio picture, displayed in pride of place on his organisation;s website. He is head of the organisation. Do they also think so little of him that they let him look ridiculous? Or has his pride gone?
The colours are good colours, technically, I mean. And his hair can not have gone the colour it is from the colour it was. He was a blond. It is now strong copper coloured. That can't happen except from a bottle. It is a colour that no-one has. And his hair would now be dark brown. Copper it would not be
He's still good looking, but all his sparkle has gone. He's lifeless. He looks tired out, poor lamb.
I know he ran from all his friends, me included, perhaps me especially, so I know that he judged things his way. But what a waste. Just as a friend I would have helped him be alive.
For me this is a "good" outcome. There is nothing there for me in that picture. But there is nothing there for him, either. So I've been weeping a few quiet tears for the man he might have been. He was a lovely boy. he had fire and drive and spark. I wish he could have all of that today.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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You have tried to make contact have you not? Not to rekindle what was but to maybe an attempt at a rescue as a friend. I know you said that you probably don’t or can’t like him now but you did say you still loved this him. What does that mean?
Or am I just being ridiculous as I am want to be.
People will tell you where they've gone
They'll tell you where to go
But till you get there yourself you never really know
Where some have found their paradise
Other's just come to harm
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13800
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I have tried so many times to make contact. He is afraid of meeting me. He is afraid of responding, even when I enclosed a reply paid envelope. I'm not even sure if he's likeable, but I can't stop loving him. He was my friend. or rather I was his. I have no idea if he was mine, though everything points to his having been.
I don't lust after him. I can't envisage us as two puppies play wrestling any more. I have no desire for him to remove any garments. I just love him though am not in love any more.
He is a jerk and shit and I am sad for that, too, because I did not misjudge the boy. I wish I could hate him, but that is too strong an emotion. I just looked at that face, once sweet and cheeky and with fire, and saw that he has died inside.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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That is sad, I guess there is something to the saying "to gain the world yet lose one's self."
I can't help but feel fear steals too much of the color from our lives.
Peace
People will tell you where they've gone
They'll tell you where to go
But till you get there yourself you never really know
Where some have found their paradise
Other's just come to harm
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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13800
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Or, the case of his rather astounding hair....
Well, he will be loved until he or I die. He knows it but cannot recognise it. Very few people are loved like that. I hope, just somehow, that it does him some good.
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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Well ya know, I think unconditional love is something that always does good whether we see the results or not.
People will tell you where they've gone
They'll tell you where to go
But till you get there yourself you never really know
Where some have found their paradise
Other's just come to harm
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