The Unsung Psalm

This is my fourth blog to hit the internet. The fourth substantial one, anyhow.  The three predecessors were entwined with my real-world identity, so No, you may not have the links.

Why do I blog, really? I cannot say. When I started the first, I was on the brink of joining my last year in school. I began to blog because I discovered so many others that I knew who had blogs, and I wanted to be amongst them. It was an amateur effort, with amateur content. When I started my second, it was somewhat of a competition with a friend I had made, who was quite a fabulous writer. I don’t quite think I ever matched up to him, but eventually, I lost interest because somewhere in the midst, I became more in touch with my sexuality and my need for companionship…all the challenges that stood before me.That cast over all other emotions. That was when I started my third blog. It ran simultaneously with the second. In the third, I would express my deepest emotions cleverly fabricated in poetry and short prose, and generalised, so that few would uncover the intentions. This blog was well received in my circle. But the thoughts that it harboured were burdened with a lot of emotion, a lot of pain. As I write this post, I read some of my writings from back then, and I wonder what an entirely different person I was then. I try to recall who I really was. I wonder if I ever knew him, if I ever tried to get to know him; because I scarcely remember him now.

I am still lost, sometimes. I still have moments of helplessness. The more I see happiness around me, the bliss that I long for, the more anguished I feel. But those are, essentially, moments of weakness. I am a stronger person now. I have motive in life. And I am not entirely miserable. I have a personality, and though it isn’t the best, it defines me; and not entirely negatively.

The third blog came to an unfortunate demise with Arun. I don’t know if I have mentioned Arun before. I’m sure I must have because Arun was central to my existence, for many months after he had left my life completely.

I met Arun on-line through the website. Before him, I had had an account on the website, but never opened it. it was as if god destined it that I happened to log into it that day. He invited me for a chat. I daringly accepted. We chatted very often that week, day in day out. I had never spoken to another gay individual before that, on-line. And I was 19!

Within the first week, I had to return to college. Internet was unavailable for 2 months, and I only happened to catch Arun twice in that period, though I made every effort to nab him more often. When internet finally came to the hostel and I managed to meet up with him, he told me he had entered into commitment and was leaving cyber-space entirely, without trace.

For 3 months, I had had him in my life. Arun and I shared many words, and had long conversations of considerable interest. At the time he first contacted me, we set strict terms whereby we would only chat online. Then, I was too afraid to accede to anything else. In his case, that was all he sought.

Thereafter, Arun and I shared many a, what I perceive as, affectionate and even passionate chats. He was considerate and receptive. Always knew what to say, to make me feel better. I became somewhat dependent on him. Each time I had an interesting anecdote to share, I’d imagine telling Arun at the earliest opportunity.

Then one day, he left. I never got to see him, only heard his voice over Voice Chat. Yes, it was a most unwise and immature experience, but it was glorious in its own way. I was miserable for months. The first week, everyone could see I was in severe pain. The first night…amongst the worst I’ve ever lived. I twisted and turned. Sobbed softly, but soft enough that my room-mate wouldn’t here. Managed an hour of sleep sometime in between, but only woke up in equal anguish.

No. I do not wish to relive those moments. But the third blog thereafter came somewhat to an end, and with it, the second. The last few posts consistently lamented how he broke me and how miserable I was. It has been a year since. I started this blog a month short of a year since I came across him in cyberworld.

This blog is different because it is essentially me, with my character exposed to the limbs. I can be as confessional as I please, with no fear of being judged or exposed by anyone. As time passes, I shall become lesser and lesser inhibited.

I do not intend to use this as a tool to find him. I hope that my acquaintances here never become my acquaintances in real life, because they would know too much about me. But yes, when I do, I plan to share every page of this Log with him. And if he’s not interested enough, then he’s not him.

Writing has always been an effort, but it comes far easier here, because I don’t feel all that judged. I am not competing, I am not afraid of losing readers because if I do, that’s al right. Besides, I’ve scarcely made an effort. The language used in this blog is as simple as it can get, and an elementary school student would understand it. This is, however, not acceptable and I shall have to do something about it.

Yes, I hope to become famous with this blog one day. I hope that it will be published as a book, and I will be a proud author, signing copies at Bookstores. I am ashamed to feel this way; but I can be honest about it, without fear, at least for now. As long as this blog remains a small space on the internet, for me, The Unsung Psalm, to confess.