In my last confessions post, I linked to the Gentleman Gigolo blog, one that I had discovered recently and read religiously. Catching up on all my blogs today, I find out that Ethan, the Gentleman Gigolo, is dead. No joke. He ODed at a holiday party, so says a friend who posted on the blog soliciting help from readers in finding Ethan's family contact. (How did the friend have access to his blog?)
I didn't know Ethan, certainly, but the news hit me as if he were someone I knew for real. I certainly didn't regard it as matter-of-factly as I would a complete stranger in the obituaries, but then it feels so weird to react so familially to the death of an anonymous blogger I found on the internet. The situation is made even more awkward by the fact that I masturbated to his words just a couple of days ago. I am confused by the stark contrast of how I looked forward to new posts on his blog to serve as erotic turn-ons just this morning to the hard fact that the author of those words are now forever gone.
Life can be so strange sometimes.
2 comments:
I was a faithful reader of his as well, and have googled his name and came up with your blog. So sad. I emailed that friend when he posted his email address just to send my thoughts and warm wishes his way. Ethan was a great writer, I too masterbated to what he wrote. He livened up my sex drive, thrust my imagination into overdrive and helped my sexuality crisis. I will forever be in debt to him. I think that is why it hits us so hard, becasue we are connected to him since we touched ourselves so erotically while reading what he wrote.
LUV YOU ETHAN! RIP
Jessica: that's so true. The whole situation's rather weird, and I almost feel shameful for having used his blog in that way ... though that was probably what Ethan intended the blog to be for :)
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