I am not "Gay"
I am not sexually attracted to males, although, due to resentment and jealousy, I am fascinated by uncircumcised -- unmutilated -- penises. But I am not sexually attracted to males. (I am not sexually attracted to many among females, either, for that matter). I do, however, find Donatello's statue of David erotic (right; not the famous Michelangelo sculpture which seems to me more like "locker room" shit with its oafish mitts), don't you? I think most persons are "polymorphous perverse", i.e.: persons enjoy enjoying irrespective of prigological categorizations. Anything that might send a person to the hospital or to the morgue is not a good idea, but other than that, what's bad about anything that feels good to all the participants even if not to peeping Nancys'?
However, suppose I was attracted to male flesh. No way would I frequent "gay bars" or bathhouses: Those places are not epidemiologically safe and have too many people in them. Further, I would not think of myself as "gay", which sounds like the inanity of "the gay nineties" with their celebration of sentimentalized asexual male-to-male "love" (they should either have been self-pleasuring or else got a loving partner to go to bed with). I doubt Plato was "platonic". Socrates's acolytes, such as Alcibiades, were not post-pubescent putti, for Christ's sake. "Gay" sounds almost as uncouth and down-status as the sound a politlcally correct bullfrog makes: "Woke! Woke!" I would not be or ever speak of myself as "gay". I would say I liked sex with males not females, or that I was: "homosexual, not: heterosexual". I would like erotic pleasure, not being "gay". The shortest path to an orgasm does not lie through a mass street demonstration for me, does it for you, my reader? Further, as Friedrich Nietzsche said: "What care I for happiness? I have my work."
"Gay Pride!" How tacky! I would want nothing to do with fashionista males who were out publicly exhibiting themselves as "gays". "Gay pride"? Does that mean being proud of being a member of a particular social category, like maybe patriotic pride or black pride or whatever? I would not consider myself any kind of thing. Cinderblocks are what's; I would consider myself to be a who, as the Deity in the Bible says of Himself: "I am who am", not: "I am a member of the class of Deity things."
I would be embarrassed to imagine myself as a lumpen bourgeois
walking woking down the street in a leather jacket with not "Hells Angels" but: "Gay Pride" on the back. Give me a break!
A sometimes friend and a chance encounter
Now many years ago i had a friend who was homosexual. This was back in the 1970's. He had probably tried to repress it and married and had a daughter. He was highly schooled, with a Ph.D. in an applied hard scientific field from a top notch university. I think he even wrote the textbook and established a department in a different university. But he was not educated: he did not have liberal arts learning. His wife did not help: Sometimes a [Unitarian] church group would meet on Friday nites at his home and the wife would snatch up the daughter and both of them would disappear, apparently to protect the daughter from his "straight" professional SES friends. Donna the bitch.
Earlier, this man had tried to commit suicide while completing his dissertation, by slashing his wrist in a bathtub full of warm water. He divorced the bitch and moved to a different state where he became a kind of center of the homosexual, or we would now call it, gay community. I once visited him there in his very architecturally interesting house, and that's where I discovered Amanda Lear's records ("Sweet Revenge" and another one). I continued in contact with him for years until I sent him a copy of my Ed.D. dissertation [in a humanities field], probably emphasizing that, unlike his degree, it was not a Ph.D., i.e.: no threat to his standing in life. He responded by saying if he had the power he would prevent me from getting a degree from what I wrote. I immediately stopped interacting with him. Many years later when he had a big birthday and there were a lot of messages adulating him on his persona website, I sent a picture of a piece of pottery I own that he made which is good quality, from over 40 years ago. No response.
Contrast: In Japan, while visiting Buddhist temples in Kyoto one day, I was sitting contemplating the dry garden in the temple and the abbott came and sat beside me and discretely, gently tried to sexually arouse me. Alas, no luck, because I am not interested in men. But I thought this was very good of him and I certainly did not indicate any hypocritical reaction. If he had been a she, it might well have turned out differently, but no such luck.