THE NAKED TRUTH

 

I've been blogging many more years than I care to remember, and it initially wasn't easy.

I'm an extremely private person. I never wanted to release my inner thoughts or boast about very intimate things, such as my sexuality.

Eventually, blogging became a potent catharsis. Releasing my emotions have often preserved my sanity (or what's left of it).

Annoying as it might seem, blogging has also been a format to (occasionally?) boast about myself. I have gone through most of my life with extraordinary low self esteem and intense self-hatred.

I'm extremely sensitive, I can't easily handle criticism, and have an unwholesome craving for validation.

An Aside for Thought:

My father criticized me until nearly the day he died and it was a struggle to get over it.

When I was young and reckless, I was extremely promiscuous. It was a desperate (pathetic?) attempt to validate my desirability.

As I was previously saying, blogging is a format to (occasionally?) boast about myself. I sometimes share my videos, piano recordings, and often talk about my unconventional past.

I used to jokingly say that I'm the most interesting person I know. Lately, I'm starting to believe it (should I insert a wry *smile* here?).

I think we are all people of many facets. Mine seem to be very complex and contradictory.

Saint or Sinner?

Am I strong or weak? Tough or a sissy?

I'm extremely sensitive, sentimental, and have the soul of a romantic. That's sissy, some will say.

Flashbacks:

As a child, I stoically endured my father's violence and insanity. When he beat the hell out of me (which was often) I never cried. When I was fourteen he fractured two of my ribs, and stamped on my bare feet with his workboots until my feet were a bloody pulp. I never flinched.

I didn't have fear. I had intense anger.

Our last physical ordeal happened when I was eighteen. It was absolutely the worst ever. He literally tried to kill me - and I was choked into unconsciousness.

I'll omit the chilling details....

but I eventually got his revolver, sneaked into his bedroom when he was sleeping, planned to kill him.

Suppressing my rage, I decided it wasn't worth the trouble (I'm drastically condensing this). That's when I left for Hollywood.

Tough or sissy?

When I was twenty, late one night in downtown Los Angeles, I was accosted by a mugger - a short, stocky Latino. I slashed his hand with my switchblade - - and then ran like hell.

Was I tough? I was in survival mode. That's about it.

When I was haunting the midnight streets of Hollywood and L.A. I learned to feign toughness......and I learned a helluva lot of other things, too.

Sappy Sentimentality

Besides slashing muggers with switchblades and hustling the hardcore midnight streets......

.....I have a softer side.

I'm a passionate opera lover and a balletomane. I also love art, literature, antiques....and cats.

That makes my masculinity questionable, huh?

You needn't have to guess.

I've covered the sexual gamit. My exploration is profound.....and shamelessly biased.

In my wild youth I craved danger and excitement. I've mentioned Phil in a very old blog post. He was an ex con, in prison for armed robbery and attempted murder. When I first met him, he was just out on parole. Incredibly good looking. Definitely a fallen angel.

One of the most intense, passionate relationships of my life. He still did drugs, and was terrified of failing his periodic drug tests (there were intricate illegal ways to get around this, but I won't elaborate).

I could write a book about our dark adventures....but I'll cut to an intense climax (no pun intended, of course).

One night Phil showed up with a car. This surprised me because he had no car and his license was revoked.

It was a stolen car, of course.

We drove up into the deserted Orange Hills. Parked in an isolated place. Smoked plenty of Acapulco Gold. Had an incredibly.....exciting time.

Later, he was driving fast and reckless through the hills. He lost control, swerved, and we crashed over a cliff!

Miraculously we only had minor injuries. Crawled out, walked for miles, finally hitched a ride to civilization. Never got caught.

If that was unsettling, I could reveal my (rather brief) "encounter" with a director of gay porn films. He offered me a role in one of them.

Hell, no!! I have some semblance of dignity.

I actually wrote a long ago blog post called "Mephistopheles at Midnight" - which was about the time I attended a midnight Halloween orgy at his mansion.

If I ever find it I might repost it.

My sordid secrets are out! I have nothing left to hide.

I'm revealing these sleezy things to emphasize how unique and adventurous my past was.  I'm not exactly proud of it, but have no intention of supressing it. Admittedly, I'm glad that I had a colorful life.

Despite all of my (many) major flaws, I'm completely honest. Everything in this blog is truthful.

I wanted to say a lot more in this post, but I think I revealed enough. For now.

My young years weren't all completely wild and perverted. I found immense satisfaction during my college years (later) and being a professional musician and (even years later) a professional writer.

And I eventually found the love of my life. Our relationship was absolutely perfect but tainted with tragedy. He is now deceased.

Rest in the sanctuary of peace, W.G.H.

Jon

I wrote this post quickly without much thought. Hope it makes some sense.

Top photo taken when I was 21. Lower photo taken when I was over 50. Why did I post these? Heck, I don't know.