Man In Fear of Clubbing Haven

I shall tackle two conundrums that have been crossing my mind lately.

First, I wish to tackle the whole semiotics of the word 'man' (and its plural form 'men'). I know this doesn't apply to everyone within the circle, but I have noticed that some individuals do not like to be affiliated with the term 'man'; as in, they do not agree that they are 'men'. They have no problems with the term 'male', but somehow they think that being labeled as 'men' brings about heterosexual undertones and responsibilities. I do not agree with this. We are still human after all. But to each his own...

The second is simpler: I haven't been to a club before.

Pubs? Yes. Bars? Yes. But clubs? Never.

Why not? (And don't give me the whole stereotypical generalization that gay men love to club, dance to Gaga and paint rainbows in their life. Okay, maybe the third is fine.)

I keep coming up with excuses that I'm tired, that I'm busy, that I do not know other people there, that I don't believe in the lifestyle. Some are genuinely valid reasons, but I believe that the main reason I don't is that throughout my life, I have been subliminally drilled to believe understand that clubs are for people with no priorities in life, that they are people with no substance and shallow to the core, that they support the flingy lifestyle of relationship paradigms (and of course without much need to elaborate, they are a complete ripoff for a non-working individual).

I cannot be any more wrong. There are people who are sincerely nice and have no hidden agendas (other than to meet new people of the same type). Heck, my close friends club too, perhaps not as much as the regulars, but still. I'm being the hypocritical self that I always am, perhaps because I never see myself getting there and everything seemed too much like a dream.

Hopefully tonight will change.

As usual, chastity belt is on 24/7. Metaphorically. Or perhaps, metaphoriterally.

Meh.