Arc
Kin and I have been hanging out a whole bunch…it’s pretty cool, I don’t think I’ve ever had the experience that he and I are having in the bars. I find someone hot, he finds them hot, and he’s my age! Me and him talking about MTV, and discussing some underground band, or rummaging in china town for the most violent movies we can find… “this is the one with the 7th graders killing each other right?” “yeah!” “and only 7 bucks!” “totally a deal.” And how it doesn’t feel weird talk about my Sirs in front of him? Oh yeah, I like that. But the best part? He’s a dirty dirty slut. Seriously, it makes me proud. I have played no great role in his sluttiness, its mostly driven by his desire to learn. And to explore. And he’s neurotic as all get out. refusing to move a couch on principal. We are well matched for conversations. Like this past Sunday, me, him, and a mutual friend are in the Hudson river park, discussing giving head. At some point the conversation leads to giving head in a rest-room. When we notice this father and his son…they get up, the kid looking at us…and the father yells “Thanks a lot guys! (angrily)” and we giggle for about 4 minutes, late using the story as bar room fodder. It’s just so foreign to me, to hang out with someone my age and find all of my life acceptable to them. More over, some one who wants to know more, and tell me more, and just hang with. It’s so cool. Now, next Sunday, I am going to be trying to drag him out, but his friends in town, so no huge planning, mostly I am just excited to be making out in bars again (how I plan to spend my final days in NYC). So, I took a little hiatus, sorry about that, lots of school work, little sleep. But I am in boston. It’s funny, I don’t have a room here, no change of clothes, no practical shoes, or fancy belts, only one type of acne cream, and I don’t even have a bed (just some well placed couch cushions at the moment). But it feels so home-y. I made dinner tonight for my Sirs and Bbro, it was nice, I then cleaned up. We haven’t done a whole set of scenes recently, which I’m missing a bit…but it’s been busy. And I’m sort of just happy to be here. Content, snuggled, and warm. Is it respect or desire that drives my feelings for them? Does it matter? Nope. I’m feeling all philosophical, but “what drives you is not as important as where it drives you.” An old note from Alli. I’m learning patience with myself. I’m beginning to recognize that every couple weeks I will lose my mind, that I may never be a person who can think linear. That I will jump from one task to imagining the next one (I’m already thinking about law school, maybe). However, I’m also seeing that this is okay. That so long as you can finish the task, you can day dream. On an off note… I read, Guy Baldwin’s essay, and I have to say I find myself disagreeing. Which I’m trying not to, cause I don’t have the experience he does. Nor half the travel, nor have the connections. Not even an 8th of them for that matter. But I think I know more that him on one subject. Youth and leather. So, I’m writing a blog on that, trying to do some research for it, and relate it to my recent experience at the Aids Hospice that Sirs are having me volunteer at. Let me explain some things from that…(hint at what my feelings on the pervo writing are) HIV sucks. It sucks for you to get, it sucks for you to give. There is nothing fabulous about HIV. You don’t die, but, eventually, everything inside you does. First, your liver may shut down…no drinky for you. More likely you get Diabetes. Then you get the joy or insulin, or worse, amputation. You don’t have the ability to wipe your own asshole. So you have it done maybe 3 times a day, by a bitter and angry nurse who will make it as dehumanizing as possible. And you will not be happy. There is nothing radical, hot, or amazingly new about bare backing, or getting HIV to make your life easier. Gay men have been fucking up their lives for years. Random, miscellaneous sex is anything but new. You want to be radical? You really do? Hold out. have something special you can do with someone special. Be one of those guys who says “sorry, I don’t play with tina’d guys” or “I only fuck with a condom” or “sorry, I would like to know you better.” I mean, fuck, do you think that there’s something noble about not using a condom? Something intensely risqué? What is it, explain that to me… Daddybear fucks me with a condom, Sir fucks me with a condom…and when he does play as a bottom, he has them use a condom. That says something way more important to me. It says, “I care about you” But, maybe I’m wrong…I’ll think about this all some more…then get back to it. Until then, a quote: I wished the world was flat like the old days, then I could travel just by folding a map. Album you need to own even if you are deaf: Death cab for cutie Transatlanticsm Who are all those people?
- posted by G @ 11:00 PM