Now that I’m a dozen entries into this blog, perhaps it’s time to put aside sexual innuendo and ambiguity for a brief moment. I flatter myself to think that anyone should find my metaphoric prose entertaining, particularly when most of my musings are based on little more than my own meandering experience.

Over the course of the last three months (and much to my surprise), this blog has gained an audience that spans the globe. WordPress shows views not only in the United States, but also countries in South America and Europe. And, it’s a small world. While I was away from New York on business in Indiana, I ran into an Indianapolis man whose ex-boyfriend in Brooklyn sent him a link to this blog suggesting he read it.

So what compels a jaded, 30-something homosexual to take to the web and publish his thoughts (dare I say feelings) for the world to read? I guess that goes back to my journalistic nature. Stories don’t mean anything when you’ve got no one to tell them to.

Now I write under an assumed name, using a double alias. Doing so allows me to freely express myself. By channeling some of my excess sexual energy here, I hope to free my mind and open myself to dating — perhaps even love.

As my last post certainly demonstrates, sex is easy to find. But, you can’t hurry love. And although, I appreciate The Supremes, I’ll let Phil Collins take it from here:

I need love – love to ease my mind.
I need to find time.
Someone to call mine…

How long must I wait?
How much more can I take?
Before loneliness will cause my heart – heart to break.
Now I can’t bear to live my life alone.
I grow impatient for a love to call my own.
But when I feel that I – I can’t go on;
Well these precious words keep me hangin’ on.
I remember mama said…

You can’t hurry love.
No, you’ll just have to wait.
She said love don’t come easy.
It’s a game of give and take.
You can’t hurry love.
No, you’ll just have to wait.
Just trust on my good times.
No matter how long it takes.