A Disturbing Thought: Variations On A Theme
A Gay opinion 10/05/02
by R. A. Melos


After the debacle of the disturbing thought, and the ensuing self-centeredness surrounding the entire incident, IE. viewing the world as if I were its central focus, many other questioning thoughts reared up demanding to be heard. It wasn't as if any of them were actually questioning my over all homosexuality. They had no problem with being gay, since the DNA factor makes it a given. No, they were just wondering what it would be like to be straight?

Would more be expected of me, if I were straight? I mean, would a greater workload be expected, if I were straight? Or would certain societal demands need to be met, which aren't expected of the gay man?

If I were straight would I like children, or want to be a father? Right now I don't particularly give children any consideration whatsoever, and I have no paternal desires. Would that change if I were to magically become straight?

Would I suddenly, as I have observed among my straight male friends, become territorial where women and family were concerned? Would I start to treat women as objects instead of equal partners, and be a demanding ogre in every phase of my life?

My thoughts clamored for attention. They were questioning each decision, each aspect of my life. Would I be more competitive and antagonistic of my fellow males? Would I still be more aggressive and dominating in bed? Would I find attractive in women what I found attractive in men?

That was the first question I was even remotely prepared to answer. No, I wouldn't find the same things attractive in women that I find attractive in men. I'm very attracted to blond and red headed men, but already find I'm attracted to the exact opposite in women. This little tidbit seem to calm my thoughts desires for answers, for a moment. The questions resumed once they digested, to some degree, the idea of raven locks.

Would I like outdoor work, yard work and puttering around the house more if I were straight? Somehow I doubted I would, but my thoughts weren't buying it. In fact, there was very little they were buying. They reasoned, had I been straight, my emotions would've been different, arguing that being straight automatically instilled the paternal desires I lack, as well as the handyman skills of which I am devoid. They also suggested I would rather tinker with cars than muse philosophically with words.

As my thoughts saw it, I most likely would be less creative, more visually oriented, and would probably be working in a factory somewhere, because most straight men are more inclined to physical labor unless they are lazy or geeks. My thoughts can be very bigoted in their opinions of straight men. The general consensus was, I would be more like Tim Allen.

I disagreed vehemently, insisting my over all interests would change very little. I would still prefer humor over violence, unless it was science fiction violence or a well written action film. I swore sexuality had nothing to do with mechanical abilities, and I would not change my own oil even if I were straight. I assured my thoughts I would still enjoy cooking and hate cleaning up, but conceded my tastes might be effected by the massive quantities of beer I would undoubtedly consume while watching the game and discussing chicks with my buddies, so I would be less likely to experiment in the kitchen, or perhaps the bedroom for that matter.

I also agreed I would probably be less spiritual in my beliefs, and more rigid in my stance against the open-mindedness I currently exude. This seemed to bother them quite a bit, as spirituality was comforting and gave off a nice warm light to bask in, giving really great tans for the paler of thoughts.

In general my thoughts were quite happy with me as I am, which is good because I had no plans of changing anything about myself for them. I was just exercising my natural curiosity which doesn't get all that much exercise, what with all the complacency in my mind, and the fact the gym in my mind closed down in 1984 to make room for a nice bar near the parade route.

So a mental crisis was averted twice. First by avoiding the burning at the stake of one erratic thought, and second by allowing my natural curiosity to stretch a bit and unwind. Sometimes my mind can be a scary place.

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misanthropic
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