21st Birthday Fuckery

Posted: Fri, Jul 19, 2019

NOW LISTENING: God Module - Difficult Reflections

Filling in this entry retroactively, as it was my 21st and I was a fucking state. A mess. I had a 4 pack on the train, then some late-thirty-something grown ass men and me got chatting outside the venue, and I didn’t have to spend a penny on booze that whole night. I was having drinks given to me, fed to me, constantly.

I was fucked up. Not in a “hey, look at me, I’m partying and posting it on Instagram” or whatever, like I was just fucked. Escorted from the venue bathroom (very kindly!) back to my hotel room covered in my own puke.

But, you know, the guys I was with called me a ‘beautiful boy’. They were drunk too but I’ll take it. Should I really be seeking validation from bi-curious 40-year-old men? Probably not. They couldn’t get over the fact that I had travelled the distance I had to see a band I only knew a few songs from, on me bill. I don’t know what it is about doing things on your own that gets people. I’d love gig buddies more than anything, but it’s been so many years and so many gigs that you just have to learn how to have fun and be fulfilled without needing another person’s validation.

I don’t know, there’s something freeing about being slightly delirious, dressed in clothes I would not DARE wear around people I know for fear of getting the shit beaten out of me, not knowing where the fuck I am, and the fact that I will never see any of these people again. Hopefully.

Well, I had to email the venue the next day as I left my coat there, like halfway down the country. I’m tryna get them to post it back to me. Once I get that situation over, then we’ll close this little chapter.