12. Calamity
Death Of The Heart
I eat my dinner in my bathtub
Then I go to sex clubs
Watching freaky people gettin' it on
It doesn't make me nervous
If anything, I'm restless
Yeah, I've been around, and I've seen it all
Tove Lo - Habits
It was 4am in the morning, as I was slowly walking home and bled from my face, hands, and legs. The brightness of the dawn made it feel surreal, but Poisoned Fruit at last fell down from its tree. And didn't learn the lesson, not yet, not fully.
June. Pride Month, the only time in a year when you get to be rewarded for being gay, but only on social media. We are supposed to believe it's also a time when we get more parties and that they're better, but that's not true, actually. They're all the same, as always. Every weekend, every Friday and Saturday, as usually. But there is one special day, when the whole city of Warsaw is filled with new gays coming over from other cities and countries. And all the dating apps and clubs are packed full.
Pride Parade in Warsaw is a pain in the ass, to be honest. The whole point of it is to walk around the city centre next to the mediocre platforms/buses playing the same pop hits we can hear at the clubs while we get to enjoy being literally burned in the sun, as well. It’s also filled with colourful, so original and annoying Gen Z kids who came to this world having everything ready for them, claiming they're the most revolutionary. It's actually a nightmare for me. But, since I'm such a "social person" now, got plenty of old and new friends and met already my fair share of guys in this city, I wanted to go. However, I didn't plan to go there looking like a crackhead, with my face covered in wounds.
It all happened on Parade's eve, when at first I met with my friends who are in relationships, then my single friend came over and we went to my club "only for one drink and maybe to dance a little". It was supposed to be an easy going night, nothing much, just a small dose of partying before the main party on Saturday. It ended for me 6 hours later, at 4am, as I was walking home and bled from a few places on my face and inside of my mouth was filled with sand and pieces of my broken teeth.
The club was the same as always, at first quite empty, some desperate and poorly dressed weirdos staring at the cute guys, and trying to dance alone on an empty dance floor. To me, every party was always a ping-pong between the dance floor and the smoking room. And as we were smoking there (enjoying it before it got filled with smoke to the point there was no need to actually smoke any cigarette, you could just inhale the air), I've got a text from some guy on Grindr.
He was Turkish, he was younger, half cute, half weird. Asked me if I'm at Metropolis. His English was very poor, and I was really drunk, so I told my friend about it. As we were laughing at his texts, it soon turned out he was sitting about one meter away from us. But maybe didn't notice what we were saying, because when he saw me, he smiled at me, and when we left the smoking room, he followed me, apparently, wherever I went.
At this point, I was almost wasted. You see, quite recently normal drinks stopped doing it for me, so just to make sure I’ll be drunk enough to have the courage and mood to dance, I started drinking double vodka drinks. They worked their magic on me, I was having a ball. But then my friend left me alone, went somewhere with his former hookup and I stayed for a bit longer, met some friends and new people, as always.
Partied a bit more and finally left the club. But it was only 3am, and I was in the mood to do something more. As it happens, a few days before I went to the opening of a new gay bar, but it isn't just any gay bar, no. It's filled with cabins, the toilet has a Venetian mirror, so people on the other side can watch guys peeing, it has some cages, swings and other weird things, you get the picture.
I got in paying only 25zł, which is the lowest price, they charge more if you're older. So, I guess I could still pass for a twink. As I was walking around the place, pretending to be this innocent Bambi, some middle-aged and nicely dressed guy grabbed my hand and took me to one of the cabins. Then I left this kingdom of sin. Alcohol helped me become completely free, you see. I was like a dog that was released from its leash. There was nothing I couldn’t do. And what I did, didn’t mean anything at all. Was I using sex to fill the void? Probably. Was it masochistic and self-destructive? Obviously. All of it sprinkled with unhappiness.
After leaving the bar, I've tried to order an Uber or Bolt, but the drivers at the dawn are usually a bunch of assholes cancelling on me, so I've decided to take an electric scooter. Did it already once two weeks earlier and safely got home, so I thought it will be great again. It wasn't. I was driving way too fast, turns out those little shits can be faster than a bike. At some point, while passing by the area where Mattias lives, where I lived with him for a few years, I don't know what happened, maybe there was something on my way which I didn't see on time. But in one moment, I just flew forward and sank my teeth into the sidewalk.
My headphones jumped out of my ears, my trousers and jacket got torn, the whole world was spinning around. Slowly I got on my knees, then stood up, and looked down to see blood not dripping, but pouring in several streams. In a matter of seconds, unintentionally I created on the ground a painting like Pollock. It looked as if my face was a water balloon pierced in several places. I didn't have any tissue, so I just tried wiping it all with my hands, but then they got so wet and red as if I dipped them in a bucket full of blood. I put the electric scooter on the side, cancelled it on my phone and slowly walked home from then. I was in shock. And I was still completely wasted, so maybe it saved me from much worse injuries. As they say, God watches out for children, drunks, and fools.
Obviously, even though some cars and other people on scooters were already passing by, no one stopped. So I just walked, got home, saw my face in the mirror and almost started crying, because I got scared of what happened. Never in my life I wanted to turn back time as much as in that moment. Tried looking for a dentist already, but I was too tired and confused, so I just covered my wounds with plasters and went to sleep. I woke up a few hours later covered in blood, because as it turns out, the chin bleeds a lot and a silly plaster can't stop it just like that.
With the help of my friends I got a dentist appointment, some Georgian Bolt driver named Valentin (the irony), took me there, and I could be fixed a little. The dentist’s assistant told me she can totally relate to my case, because once she left her credit card in an ATM. Quite ironic, but she was right about one thing - I was lucky nothing more serious happened to me. Someone told me his friend lost sight in one eye after such accident. Some guy broke 12 of his teeth. I could break my leg or a hand. It could be really much, much worse. But I didn't feel lucky, somehow.
As I was sitting on the dentist's chair, I couldn’t stop thinking how they always know if someone did a blowjob recently. Yes, they can. I asked one guy on Tinder, he told me there are small bruises on the throat, or something like that. Splendid. My head started killing me as the dentist was drilling my broken teeth and all I could think about, was how these two women know I was a whore a few hours ago. It was so humiliating.
After this episode, I told myself I’m done with parties. I thought I hit the rock bottom, that it was the lowest point I could get myself into. But days were passing, my wounds were healing, and the shock and fear created by this whole accident eventually disappeared. So two weeks later, I ended up in an orgy and then gay bathhouse.
Once again, partied with my friend, and when she left, I was already texting someone on Grindr. He offered to order an Uber for me to his place, so I went there, around 3am. When I got to his flat, I discovered he isn't alone, there were two other guys with him, one probably was his boyfriend. They made me a drink and as I was sitting on the couch next to one of them, the host started crushing some pills on the table, he was half naked, from the waist down, to be exact. Then some Asian guy came there as well, greeted me with a kiss on the lips and the host said something like: Other guys are on the way.
I wanted to chuckle like in this meme: I’m in danger. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I have to leave immediately. Told them I need to buy some more cigarettes for my Iqos and can’t properly remember how did I leave, how did they react, what they said. I can only remember my walk at dawn around a completely unknown for me area of the city. I took an Uber back to the club, but they were already closing, so then I remembered one place that was constantly open from Friday to Monday - gay bathhouse. I got lost there several times, enjoyed the sauna, showered a few times, lost my phone and found it, but somehow, miraculously, I didn’t do anything else there. I didn’t have sex with anyone.
I left this place at 8am. And later that day, when I woke up around 5pm, I felt like a piece of shit. Once again horrible thoughts entered my mind, I could barely go to the shop for some groceries, without crying like a baby. And when I was out, whenever I noticed any guy staring at me, I wanted to vomit. Can you overdose men? It felt like I did exactly that, certainly. Men around me made me sick. Their attention, the need to use me for sex, it all made me want to scream. But that’s what I wanted, didn’t I?
I didn’t like who I became. This toxic, manipulative, crazy and wild party hooker playing with men and being played by them like a violin, too. "Innocent-looking, cute trap" for men. Blacking out, wasting money on alcohol, dating pointlessly, having sex with random strangers, trying to join the three digits club. Friends told me I can do better, it's not who I really am. And I knew they're right, but once I started spiralling down, I didn't know how to stop it. It felt like I'm on a slide and there was no way to actually save myself from falling. That was my rock bottom, the deepest corners of my rabbit hole. It was dark, stuffy, its walls dripping with cum and sweat. Free drugs waiting for me wherever I looked.
The things that I saw, the countless dicks, strangers doing it with other strangers. I saw the dark side of the gay world. I was a small part of it, for a time. And I know for many guys it's nothing special. There are those, who visit such places constantly. Who participate in many orgies. Cruising, going to certain spots in the city, where you can have sex with anyone. I'm trying not to judge it, but I didn't want to live like this, ever. I didn't want it for myself. It's not who I am.
So I removed myself from all the apps, cancelled all the planned dates, then saw the idiocy of what I was doing until now, when I forgot about one guy who was supposed to come to my place for a weekend. When I told him I can't do it, he said "it's no biggie, when he will be done with his concert, he can wait for me to finish my work next to my building, and then we can have quick sex". That was it for me. I don't know for how long, but I hope this rehab will help me. Still, however, can't help but wonder - do some people really get healed, or are they just lucky enough to meet their new one and only and it does the trick for them? Is it truly impossible to love others if you don't love or heal yourself first?