remembering You / Me

I'm in the long-winded process of writing a post about the gay porn industry and certain pop cultural references of the 80s, and it's important relevance to one other and also funnily my future. However it has become an extensive essay and has taken me days to edit and fix because it's a touchy subject and I think that it's important that I put down what I want to say in the best possible way without people assuming that I am either going to run off and become a prostitute or that I am going to end up a crack addict and shoot myself in the head. I'm just thinking out loud remember.

I really want to write about my week though for the sake of writing because I have been reading a few other personal blogs that I follow and I feel suddenly inspired. The only thing missing really are things to write about that have photos to accompany. Last weekend Steve was still in hospital. Very late on the Saturday night, after I had finished cleaning and sorting out the flat for his return, I was convinced by Sammi to join her for drinking games at a friend's house on Chester Road. Monday, we had Steve return and it was great. I think he was impressed with the new arrangement of his home. Things are less cluttered and easier to clean.

I have a lot in my mind to write about, and I am really just writing this post to remind myself. I still have to edit the post I'm working on and I want to write about my plans on Steve's legacy, Steve's story and what it's like to be looking after someone with cancer. In no way do I want to turn into a cancer motivational speaker, but it's something I want to write about here, not focusing on cancer as such but just the plain fact of someone dying from a terminal illness. It has created a lot of scary conflict in my mind. Perhaps writing in here will help me. I sometimes stop and wonder what the hell I am going to do, and I really can only imagine what his mother and family, and what he himself must be looking to now. Sometimes it rouses emotions so new and unsettling I feel like I am going to be sick.

I want to write about how it might of changed me. I find myself so different, so desensitised by trivial problems that normal people suffer daily, yet I am developing a huge sympathy for loss of life, and I think it's creating a meaningful structure to my life. I don't want to turn dismissive on people's problems, but at the moment I can't relate to them. I also want to write, one day in the future, of the impending build up of responsibility, the tremendous pressure and the complexities of the situation I am in regarding caring for Steve, emotionally, morally and psychologically. I want to talk about each friend I have, and where they stand with me in my mind during this time, and how they have helped, and how I have began to understand their personality, their character through introducing them to Steve, like presenting a king with goods from afar. I want to be frank, and explicit, and I want to be honest to myself. I will write it all down during this year. I will hopefully continue to flourish the blog with more of the usual updates of what I am up to, and more photos. But I need to remember about all I want to write, and their contexts. Don't let me forget.