BLAH!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
bad friend and bb
Fucked up moment. Lied to a friend, sort of. Used an additional person's name when talking to a friend. More did it to hurt him. Getting scared he'll start hating me.
Sigh. BB with Aussie didn't help.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Do I keep going wit h this one?
So i am at an impasse, part of me wants to start blogging again, but part of me does not. At least not publicly. I'm unsure what I want to do, or where I want to take this. It seems hard to imagine that this will fuck me over... but it's always possible. I think I'll stick with this blog and hope for the best.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
I continue to not die
I've been trying to figure out my life plan as of late. I have aproximately a year and a quarter till graduation. And I am rapidly coming to a place where I need to pick a path. At the moment, there are two: one path leads me to owning my own business or doing something creative like that. The other is the safe corporate road. Here's the trouble, I love one thing in life: Gay Sex. That's it. There is no deeper part of me yet. I like books, I like movies, I like people. I love gay sex. So in my head, I keep hearing my father's voice (and to some extent my Sirs) telling me about the benefit of the corporate path. Stay in school, get good grade, work for giant firm doing things that may or may not cause the extinction of woodland animals. But there's this other part of me, this part of me that wants more. I want to do something I love. I want to get up in the morning and feel like I'm doing something worthwhile. But what? See, this second path is untroden, and not as easy. But it's not easy primarily for it's limitless possibilities. I hate choices. So, I'm setting a goal, by Febuary, I will have picked an idea and I will stick to it! Who are all those people?
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
I'm not dead
A recent manhunt conversation. His E-mail cool. that's the way nature intended straight men to have gay sex. (seriously--I think). Sounds hot. I had a buddy in middle/high school and he'd force me to have sex with him (which I found very hot even though I resisted). He even tried pulling a pocket knife on my throat to fuck me--despite his bravado, I wasn't afraid and I wouldn't let him fuck me. More often he would pinch my nose, forcing me to open my mouth to breath so he could stick his dick in my mouth. I miss middle school. My Response Hmmm...all I had in middle school was a fat, red-headed, girlfriend who occasionaly gave me chocolates. I'm totally digging college though.Who are all those people?
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Parting thoughts.
I want so badly to bring this to some conclusion. So here it is. This blog is over, so now I direct you to the following, which I feel explains everything I’ve been though over the past 15 months. http://www.homestarrunner.com/tgs5.html And this which explains life http://www.pleix.net/BeautyKit.html I figured I would go out with a laugh Oh, and if you want to, read the other blogs that link from mine, they are all amazing. Who are all those people?
Taboo weekend.
Okay, so my last blog entry will be about being collared. Gosh it was amazing, and beautiful. So very very wonderful, except for them not giving me any details until they happened. I don’t like surprises a whole bunch. Thursday night Daddybear took me to a concert! Rufus, Guster, Ben Folds… I yelled like a teenage girl and called and left alli messages of a song she liked. Friday! Daddybear, Bbro and I Went to a water park! It had been so long for all of us! So we ran around all day (okay I ran around, they walked fast). It was great! And that night Sir and Daddybear took us to see the movie Brother Bear…which is all about family and belief. I missed the point of the movie (they love eachother, and the guy remains a bear to protect the cub). But I could feel their heat next to me. And that was all I really needed/ wanted. The movie was really nice though, lots of colors! Saturday was amazing.I have a new name, I was gonna post it, but I think I want to reveal it in person and such. It’s more than a nickname, but mostly cause it was so lovingly picked for me. They had this ceremony, someone even came from DC! I can’t even describe it, but the apartment was filled with cigar smoke, and leather men, and I was trying hard not to just hit on all of them too much. But the most amazing part was when Sir and Daddybear knelt in front of me and Bbro. Their backs to us, shirtless. As a sign of their trust they had us drip some wax on them. Chills. It’s funny, in part, it was a party. And any description of it would portray it as such. But it felt like so much more. Bbro later pointed out that it was more or less that Sir and Daddybear were not only introducing us to their leather family, but also telling us that we could count on that family. Crazy huge. And I got a leather wristband. It smells like my wrist, and says I am Sir and Daddybear’s property. *warm fuzzies* I was going to go on and on…but I don’t think it’s necessary. It was…what I wanted it to be I think. Important, and big, but not unfriendly or scary, it was like the 2ndnight of Chanukah. You know the big part is over…but now you can enjoy what’s beginning. And there’s presents. Shiny leather presents, that are made from Sir’s first leather shirt. Mmm…boston Sirs, mine, mine, mine, mine. Who are all those people?
Hail.
I knew about the holocaust before I knew about most anything in American history. I read Anne Frank’s Diary for Hebrew school when I was 10. Schindlers list was one the only R-rated movies I was allowed to see. So I sort of find nazi’s hot. Not actual Nazis (hilter needed better facial hair for that). but every now and then, I’ll see some old show (Sirs have the wonder woman DVD) or some guy online with the double-8… and I’ll think “yeah, I could hit that” Just don’t expect me to be passive with a nazi. I think it’d be more fun to struggle a bit. But only if it’s make believe. Who are all those people?
Question 9!
Is there an overall message you'd like to leave your readers with after sharing your life/feelings/thoughts over the last 15 months? I wish I could bring this to some clichéd and glib ending. Something like “you can find what you want!” Eh, maybe not. I guess the simple thing is this. Over the past 15 months I spent a lot of time seeking things. Heavier scenes, better sex, wilder lifestyles, and a better life. None of which was really defined in my head. I would say I lucked out in finding my Sirs…but there’s more to it than that. Some guys want to find A Sir. Anyone to fill some perceived void, other shy away from the notion, preferring equality. I never meditated on it really, just jerked off to what I thought was hot. Okay! I got it. Relationships are relationships. None fake, none stupid, none that are ever more or less than what they are. I didn’t imagine having Sirs would be like this, nor did I really imagine having Sirs plural. The biggest thing I’ve learned from exposing my life is how every relationship I have (friends, hookups, other) is primarily defined by our choices for interaction. None of that makes sense. I choose sex for a long while, and reading over some of my previous entries I feel sort of foolish. I’ve forgotten a lot of their names (the hookups, not the friends), and it’s shameful to blow off people to blow people. I think we all put too much focus on sex, online has done that more to the leather community than anything else. We find sex partners when we need companions or we find boyfriends when we need friends. Maybe it’s because of Leather weekends that we feel an urgency to be whipped, or maybe it’s because everyone is so mobile that local communities fall apart. I don’t know. I’ve learned that you can’t change the actions of the world at large, but you can keep your eyes open. Most of what you want is near you. I’ve got a really great community of leather in new york. It consists of some great guys that I know. it’s just smaller than most. None of that makes sense either. Who are all those people?
Question 8!
what about you is the most different from the day you started the blog to the day your ending it and why? My second entry in the blog was this: “Okay, so i have a made a rule, i will not edit the content of these blogs once i post them and i will not edit them as i type them (beyond grammar and spelling)... So lets get right into it (thats just the kind of guy i am) 4 truths about me and than this post is finished:1) I rush into things, there tends to be an "on" and "off" switch, no varying intensities (not sure if thats a good thing)2) I am young to be into all of this3)I am afraid of my emotions4)I have a good sense of what i like” Some of that feels like it was a different person. And some of it feels way to close to me still. I still rush into things, I’m still afraid of some emotions. I don’t feel young anymore, I don’t feel like I only have an “on/off” switch. But it’s not those things that really changed the most. Oh they changed, but not in any boundless crazy way. The biggest difference in me now, is my sense of what I like. When I first wrote that I had a good sense of what I like, I meant that I could tell you what kind of fruit I enjoyed, and how I liked to be tied up. I meant that I could predict how I would feel things, or tell you what I tought on anything. I was/ am a know it all. But, I didn’t know what I WAS LIKE. That’s the biggest change I think. I know me a lot better, and that means that I fear myself less. I don’t worry so much about my impulses, or my emotions (I still don’t like crying), or that I have a weird fear of the dark and zombies. That’s me. I know and accept myself more and more. That allows me to sing the strawberry shortcake theme without too much coaxing. And sometimes lets me apologies when I know the ADHD is acting up and I am poking Sir. It also lets me role over and beg for pettings, and licks, and cuddles. Cuase I know I like that stuff, and accept that. And the reason for that change? The Sirs. It’s hard to explain. Their acceptance of the parts of me I considered shameful (and some parts I still do) let me accept them a little more. As it became okay to show those parts of me, I came to know them more. And then I became okay with some of those things, a lot of them in fact. So I went from knowing what I like to Liking what I know a lot more. And knowing a lot about what I am like. Pretty cool, huh? Who are all those people?
question 7
You've made clear what your goals are for the leather community.
What are your goals as a (in this order)
1. Son and Brother?
Jeez. Son? Nothing
Okay, not nothing. I would love to make my father proud of me. Have him really excited to be my dad, ya know? and same goes for my mother. I want to be bragged about at synagogue.
Brother wise?
I guess I want to be an example for him. A rock, and basically be around. I don’t want us distant. We are now…but I want him to feel like he can call me.
2. Friend?
I’m working on this. I want to be there for my friends. Show up for the big events and just genuinely be there. Showing up is like 90% of friendships. I’m a bit flakey, and I don’t want to be that kid anymore.
3. Collared boy?
I want to make them happy. Learn how to serve better, take more, understand more. Do everything…but better. Oh! And teach Sir patience, he says I’m helping him learn it.
And turn them on, I like doing that.
Question 6
How has this blog helped you, and how has it hurt or cost you?
As above, mostly the help has come from learning to accept certain things. And feeling less alone. Most e-mails I got were not questions, or advice, but things like “I love your blog” or “You seem so interesting” reading that is great.
Hurt me?
I guess it has hampered some communications I could/ should have had. Sending specs this address when a phone call or a carefully worded e-mail might do? Bad.
Flipping out on here when I first went into training when I should have told them? Bad.
It’s not done anything drastic to me. It’s wierded out it’s fair share of internet hookups, And led to many strange conversations, and pissed off some people. But again. Nothing that I couldn’t have done myself.
It’s biggest flaw and biggest benefit is that people can get a real feel for me just by reading this thing. And that allowed me to go without calling sometimes.
No more them saying “oh I read that in your blog!”
No more me saying “oh I just bloged about that!”
Now I use the phone.
I will miss the sheer narcissism of it. But I’ll live.
Who are all those people?Question 5
What have you learned from Bloging?
All experiences are not universal. That being said, most experiences resonate within us.
My take on flogging may be how you feel about water sports.
Your take on piercing may be my view on love. Who the fuck knows?
I would love to tell you I learned a lot about myself through bloging, but I don’t think that’s true. I came to accept what I knew about myself through bloging, but most of my understanding has come from play and of course.. the Sirs.
Doing this has helped a lot to come to sort out emotions though, anger, hurt, those sorts of things.
It was definitely worth it.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Question 4!
If you had to pick the way you would die, what would it be? and what do you think would be the worst/most horrible way to die? morbid! Of course KYA would ask that. I want to die old, and peacefully asleep. Like my grandfather... not screaming and terrified like the other 4 people in that car. HEhe I think i would like to be 87 or more. Healthy and mentally aware surrounded by loved ones. Worst way? in prison. No one ever dies happy in prison. Who are all those people?
Question 3!
so you'd rather have a master over a BF? Yes, and no. I've never really wanted either. Not in any affirmative screaming "i want a ___ sort of way." I wanted sex. I want sex. and Kink, and bondage and spanking and pain and all that. But the people and relationships behind those experiences were never anything i thought about. Sirs, and domination, and being collared...they have been part of my fantisies. But i hadn't met anyone that i thought of in that way (who reciprocated it). So i guess i was never openly seeking it. But i wanted it. Now...would i take a some nameless faceless boyfriend over my current Sirs? No. not now, not ever. Anyone i meet or plan on dating would have to be comfortable with thier place in my life. Hell, he would probably have to enjoy that aspect of me. So yes, i would rather have my Sirs of a boyfriend. But no, i would not blindly choose a Sir over a Boyfriend if all things were equal. though the point is moot. As the two are not mutually exclusive (with me anyway) Who are all those people?
Question 2!
Oh, okay, got one. How are things going to be different for you when you've been collared, than they are now? Okay, when you get hired for a job, they usually tell you that you have a certain numbber of months on probation. Essentially they want to see if you are a match for that company. Collaring has worked sort of like that for me. They want me, and in the begining they wanted me too. There had to be a space of time for us to be sure we wanted each-other and they it was (as Sir would say) "a good fit." That was the trail period. With the collaring it is about them giving me a lot responsibility i suppose. And me giving them a lot of trust. And Vice versa. It's making it official more than anything. and man am i glad to be official. Who are all those people?
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Question 1!
"If you could be anything you want - fireman, ballerina, nuclear safety technician - what would it be? Don't say you don't know. Tell us. Thanks. " ScriptWriter for a TV show of my creation. I think that would be a really cool job. Not only would i control the actors, but it would be fun to see my thoughts on the TV! nerdy i know, but eh, i'm nerdy I would also willing become superman. Who are all those people?
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
Something Definitive.
It’s gonna be over… So I am planning on giving a summation. But before I do that…here is my humble request. E-mail me a question. I will answer them all (I can’t imagine there will be too many). I’ll post what I can. I want to live this without any gaping holes of unfilled questions. I know there will be…but this will alleviate them I hope. Who are all those people?
Sunday, July 04, 2004
All good things..
As i type this. this will be my 280th blog posting. In two weeeks. I am no longer posting a blog. So...what can you do? E-mail me. Send me crap. Tell me what you want to see. 2 weeks. I get collared next week. I blog about that. and then it's over. I want to put something deep. But it's more or less that this time has come. I may start doing something else...less personal. But we shall see. 2 weeks. But my e-mail will always be there :) Who are all those people?
Friday, July 02, 2004
DRUGS!
I keep hearing about this “over medicated society” that we live in. There are pages on how ADHD doesn’t exist. Depression is a myth. “You’re not sick! You’re stupid!” Fuck that. I have ADHD. It sucks. Sigh… It’s all encompassing too. And that’s the part that sucks. Today at work I came out about it. Being gay never bothered me a lot. Being kinky never left the too bad a taste in my mouth, It fucked (fucks?) with me sometimes. But I wouldn’t remove it from me. And I would pick being gay over straight any day. But the ADHD? I’d cut it from me if I could. I hate it. There are these pills. When I don’t take them I am different. I can’t focus. Talking to me is hard. I can’t remember tasks. And even on the pills I have certain limitations. It just sucks. And I can feel it wear off too. Tonight I got home from work and looked down to see this bleeding scratch on my hand. That sucked. Not that I walk around all day cursing ADHD. It’s goes largely unnoticed. Except the mornings, when I take the pill. And the nights when it wears off and I still have a project to do. But i hate it. It’s why I try not to think about it. I hate the pills. I hate the idea that I need them. I hate that I need them. I hate that (some)people feel like it’s not real. And I hate that I feel different on them. So I don’t think about it. mmmm…Sirs tomorrow. And girlfag the day after ? DRUGS! I keep hearing about this “over medicated society” that we live in. There are pages on how ADHD doesn’t exist. Depression is a myth. “You’re not sick! You’re stupid!” Fuck that. I have ADHD. It sucks. Sigh… It’s all encompassing too. And that’s the part that sucks. Today at work I came out about it. Being gay never bothered me a lot. Being kinky never left the too bad a taste in my mouth, It fucked (fucks?) with me sometimes. But I wouldn’t remove it from me. And I would pick being gay over straight any day. But the ADHD? I’d cut it from me if I could. I hate it. There are these pills. When I don’t take them I am different. I can’t focus. Talking to me is hard. I can’t remember tasks. And even on the pills I have certain limitations. It just sucks. And I can feel it wear off too. Tonight I got home from work and looked down to see this bleeding scratch on my hand. That sucked. Not that I walk around all day cursing ADHD. It’s goes largely unnoticed. Except the mornings, when I take the pill. And the nights when it wears off and I still have a project to do. But i hate it. It’s why I try not to think about it. I hate the pills. I hate the idea that I need them. I hate that I need them. I hate that (some)people feel like it’s not real. And I hate that I feel different on them. So I don’t think about it. mmmm…Sirs tomorrow. And girlfag the day after ? Who are all those people?
Pride
OH My G*D. I am a complete and total teenage girl. Somewhere between the last post and this one. I tasted 15 men. It was this crazy desire that grew inside me as the weekend approached. I wanted to tangle myself in sex. And man did that work out. Saturday night: Cricket and Tophilosopher and I meet up. We gab for a bit and then hang out in the bar. I have been there for a bit longer then them (2 hours, 4-5 tongues) but life is good. As we hang out by the pool tables I run into this couple from San Diego. Well technically I meet one of them first. But I have devolped this 2nd sense about couples. Couples are any man I am attracted to who has a friend I also find hot. Irregardless of how. I begin making out with the both of them. Suddenly, a hand is slipped in my pants. It starts to play with my cock. End of story? I saunter over to the kissing Cricket and Tophil and point to a spot on the floor… “see that? That’s my cum.” I slept well that night. Next morning I was up at 9 to get over to the aids hospice at 10:00 which I made at 10:30. I helped them set up brunch, and then take it down. I left at around 12:00, got up to Cricket by 12:30 to watch the parade with him. Kin stopped by at around 1:30 with his Daddy who was in from San Diego and we all watched the parade together. At 4:30 we hit up Weehawken street. That was fun. Not more no less. But I didn’t go home with anyone. Not for lack of opportunity though. Somewhere along the line I just thought… “why am I doing this?” Never think that if you want to sleep with a stranger. I spent the rest of the night contemplating that thought as I stuck my tongue in the mouths of babes. I just don’t know. it’s like I shift back and forth. I want sex, but what kind? With whom? And after? Is it worth the wait of getting to know someone? Do I even want to know them? I have no clue. But I have so many possibilities for sex. So I am going to whittle it down. I think I’m just spinning a bit. It’s this strange feeling in me. I want something… Just need to define it. So I wasn’t penis out. But since I can do that any weekend, what makes pride so damn special? Next time… we go for substance… Kidding. Next time we go for 12 different men. Who are all those people?
Saturday, June 26, 2004
Mostly...
I tend not to be a man who complains of his weight. Mostly cause I don’t find myself bothered by it. There has never been a massive desire for me to lose weight. I like my body, mostly. Mostly...b There in lies the dilemma. While jerking off to beefcake men from titan a couple weeks ago I began to contemplate my body. So I was staring at myself in the mirror like Mary-Kate Olsen used to before she had to “recuperate” at a facility somewhere. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to lose weight and become muscle filled. I’ve always had a vague preference but now I have a desire! And, more to the point, a game plan. I can do 3 times a week, a facility at the college (free) that’s 15 minutes away. And a job that gives me time to do those sorts of things. So yeah, I am excited. I have to grab the 10:40 train. I missed the 9:40. That sucks. But I am coming to the city for pride!. Cricket is putting me up in home for the night. And then I am set. Tommorow I volunteer at Rivington house. That has me finish up my Trial period goals. And then I get collared. But there is a dilemma on the horizon. Things to talk about, and renewed fears. I don’t want to go into details, I know their reasons, and I respect and understand them. But putting them on here feels like an invasion on my part. I just feel less sure footed than before. They want me still. They tell me how much they want me. It makes me uneasy. I’m the addition. The update. The add on. I know that, I’m okay with that…And i still want them. Just...ya know. Issues. Pride. Pride. Pride. I’m gonna drown sweat or beer. This boy want’s cock. Oh and there’s a parade or something about politics. Kidding,…mostly TRAIN! Who are all those people?
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
Boss weekend
So my best friend met my Sirs. She likes them, thinks that they are cool. This is all very good! But let’s get to the meat. It’s crazy, and it keeps getting crazier. These men are so important to me, and I want people I know to know them. Alli was up in Boston (still is), and I asked my Sirs if they would meet her. They consented to a brief meeting. It went well, they made snacks, sat on their front stoop and made conversation with my friend. All of us then went inside and talked a little bit more. Soon, though, it was time for Alli and to head out, Sir and Daddybear hugged her, and I then kneeled before them and got some rubs. The first 4 minutes after we left I was a nervous wreck, waiting for her verdict. But we already know what that was. She likes them. Excellent. I wish I had something deep to say but, really, I am just happy that someone I know knows them. That Alli has faces to my weekends in boston. Oh, and yesterday…Daddybear fucked me three times, only letting me cum once. He took the day off of work and spent a good portion of it with his cock inside me. He had me bent over the couch, me groaning softly feeling my pelvis grind into it. My red gym shorts were around my ankles and I swear I can smell them on that couch (they spend naked time on it sometimes). It was fun. But that’s not the big point. I’m beginning to feel more comfortable with certain fantasies that I had put off my plate. More or less, I had dismissed them from my play thoughts. It’s hard to describe them really, but mostly they are the one’s that let me feel vulnerable. Or they things that I think make me look stupid. It’s nice to feel that level of trust. It’s really nice to be able to be submissive to them to a point were I don’t really care how goofy or stupid I look. So long as they like it. Work in an hour! Who are all those people?
Saturday, June 19, 2004
wave to the jungle.
Sigh, I want to cum. I want to beat off. Can’t. I desire being a good boy more than I desire the immediate gratification of cuming. That, and I am on a bus going up to Boston, so the feasibility of it is difficult to say the least. So let’s get right to the bitching. I have a shit job. I mean, I like it, I help to feed the addiction of this fine nation. Also I’m good at it, and I like when I’m good at something (especially when people tell me I’m good at it). However, the job serve’s no greater purpose that helping people get coffee. That’s tough to get up for. But it’s so close, and what is 8 hours of a day? A lot, but I can deal, I am a weekend warrior it looks like. I can do that, 40 hours a week for the greater good of college. Starbucks is not my concern at the moment. Its beyond the ‘bucks that has me thinking. What if I feel the same way about my future job? What if I wake up in the morning, go to bed that night without having to think? Slave to the wage indeed. Something like 60% of American’s are in debt (it may be more). Most people don’t really like their jobs. Most people don’t really like their lives. The big divider? Money, people with more money are happier. The have done studies. I would like Starbucks a lot more if my paycheck were a lot bigger. But I want a little more than that. I want a job that I can help people with. And that got me thinking… My last job was EMT, I helped transport people to and from the hospital. And while I enjoyed it, it was not as thought prevoking as one might suspect (third watch is bull shit). It’s a lot more of the blood pressure taking, and the lungs listening than stopping bleeding and saving babies. But I though, and I thought, and I thought. I really want to become a lawyer. A friend of Kya’s got busted for possessing pot recently. The cops didn’t read her The Miranda Rights. But it’s two cops to her one self and friend. I could help with stuff like that. Not all the time mind you…but, pro bono work could be done. It’s beyond that though, I could help leather-folks, fight for rights. I could spend my days helping to design contract. Or Study international law, and then fly over-seas, designing wills, setting up trust funds. Or be a children’s advocate. Anything really, but I am leaning more towards business as that’s what my bachelor’s will be in (finance, or marketing). So what got this going? GirlFag. We were talking a couple nights ago, about the leather community. She and I have a lot of similar ideas. It’s nice to hear an echo in our fish-bowl conversations, and to vice versa, be an echo. However, I think she helped me out with some things. You see, I have been struggling with my leather essay. The Sirs hated it, found it to be ill conceived, and wanted me to research more, think more, ask more. Be better. That’s what they always want though. So, I’ve been trying. Gathering the resources I have, figuring out a point to it all. Trying to overhaul something that needs to be overhauled. Problem is sometimes my eyes are way too big. And sometimes I’m not focusing on the right things. Like I was writing though, Girlfag helped out a lot. It’s not that I don’t want things like IML to not exist. And it’s not that I want no one to know about leather, or for the community to be as tightlipped about it as it used to be. However, I wonder, if there is a better way. Networking is needed, more networking between the het, pan, bi, gay, lesbian community. And not the proper whipping techniques, or another s/m 101 seminar, but something like Pro-bono lawyers. Counselors, Therapists, information on good working places. Leather needs a public face, if only to allow it to have a private one. Now all I need to do is figure out how (if it’s possible) to support that, and then how to accomplish it. That is, if it isn’t already being attempted. And now onto sex… So, pride is coming up and my thoughts have turned to the many men I will be meeting. Last pride I wound up playing with enge the night before in my bedroom. This year it’s going to be me, (maybe) kin, and Cricket. And I have Sirs to call if I am going to do something fun. Which is kind of cool. At the moment, however, I am thinking about Daddybear and Sirs’ cocks. I didn’t get fucked the last time I was in boston (punishment). So I am sort of craving it. I never expected that really, but I miss them, and I miss the fucking. Right now, after 4 days of not cumming, I miss the fucking. And cuddling after, I like that a lot too. Take me! Who are all those people?
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Main-eish Ta-anah!
Forgive the title, it’s Hebrew, and, as with all Hebrew there are a thousand ways to spell it in English. Anyway, it’s from Passover (pesach, pessache) This weekend was a kind of eye opener for me. I messed around with kid-hop (now called cricket). We spent the day just sort of hanging out after. Saw the movie “super-size me.” Which was all pretty cool. And throughout the day we chatted about leather, s/m, the death of the bar, and what the hell is next? This has been a kind of recent recurring theme as of late. I just got off the phone with Bad-faggot who continued the conversation just five minutes ago. But first lets talk about sex with cricket. Now, one of the things I like about cricket is his honesty. We haven’t known each other all that long, but he is definitely a man who tells what he feels. There is very little filter on what he says (which is a lot like me, so I enjoy that). He had just come back from running, and after a quick call to Daddybear (for approval), Cricket and I began to hang out a bit. We got to wrestling (I won) and then nakedness. Yum. The rest of the day is a sort of blur of city stuff and checking out stores and such. But we got to talking about leather bars…and I stated how I thought that there should at least be a dress code for GMSMA, and especially one for The eagle. Cricket pointed out how that would serve my fetish more than anything. And upon examination, a lot of my desires run toward that. I would love the eagle to have a “people blackbird would sleep with” room. As of yet, that hasn’t happened (though Sir and Daddybear have, they call it their bedroom, but I know better). That leads us to all the hubbub. BadF points out that most of what we know of the “old-guard” varies greatly. There were a lot of different bike groups and many have rivalry with one another. No amount of history can every really be untainted. I have been wondering recently about that. What does old guard mean? What makes a person kinky? How far into Kinky does one have to be to be considered a member of the leather community we so frequently shelter ourselves as? And what do we get out of large public displays. I have issues with Christianity for several reasons, one of them being that part of the religion has a section on how you are doing gods work by converting people to Christianity. And my dilemma sometimes with groups like GMSMA comes from the attempt to entice new members. Everything is made to look sexy, and fun, and hot. Puppy play becomes a “light alternative to master/slave play” because we want people to thinks that is fun, and soft, and easy. No, no, you don’t have to think here, just come and give us 5 dollars, tell your friends, just place your body in this chair for headcount. And then we wonder why people don’t help out at events. Why presentations have people who don’t care about anything beyond the technique, and we ask ourselves “how can we improve this?” I wonder if we can. I wonder if we need to. Maybe we focus so frequently on sweeping change to the leather community that we forget the importance of our own lives. Let GMSMA debase something you like and consider more than what they do. Fuck it. Focus on your own family, let the parties outside rage. Because an out community means that you can enjoy a truly private life. Does that make sense? So why the big Hebrew-haha as the title? It’s all about the 4 sons. “The story of the Four Sons is also read at the Passover seder table. Each of the four sons symbolize a different type of Jewish person. One son is wise, another is simple (this son is regarded as simple because of his indifference and unconcern), still another is wicked, and the final one is very young in age, too young to inquire about Passover, and therefore silent. The wise son inquires about why the Jews practise the customs of Passover. Those assembled at the Passover seder table respond in unison, describing this son as wise, since he wants to know more about the Passover traditions of his people. The simple and indifferent son asks in more general terms what is all this he sees at the Passover seder table. Those at the Passover seder table respond by educating and reminding the simple and indifferent son about G-d's favors toward the Hebrews during the time of slavery in Egypt, and the importance of remembering and observing them, and remembering them with gratitude. The wicked son wants no part of the Passover traditions and asks why the Jewish people - other than him - practise the customs of Passover. Those at the Passover seder table respond by describing this son as wicked, since he thinks Passover customs are meant to be practised by other Jews, but not him. Finally, the young and silent son who does not know enough to inquire is simply told about the Passover story in accordance with the biblical command: "And thou shalt tell thy son in that day, saying: it is because of that which the Lord did for me when I came forth out of Egypt" This is where I am at. This is how all people come into leather, or any new experience. This is how one has to discuss things. Men who don’t know anything about it, need to be told before they can ask. Those who can ask, need to be answered. And those who feel angry, or bitter, need to be assured that they matter. Right now, I feel like there are a lot of Fifth sons (a concept introduced recently). “Unfortunately, in our time of confusion and spiritual bankruptcy, there is another kind of a Jewish child - a "fifth son", who is conspicuous by his absence from the Seder; the one who has no interest whatsoever in Torah and Mitzvoth ("commandment" in Hebrew), laws and customs; who is not even aware of the Seder-shel-Pesach ("The Passover Seder" in Hebrew), of the Exodus from Egypt and the subsequent Revelation at Sinai. A challenging and pertinent question is: What brought about this regretably all-too-common phenomenon of the "fifth son"? The "Fifth Son" is the result of an erroneous psychology and misguided policy on the part of some immigrants arriving in a new and strange environment. Finding themselves a small minority, and encountering social and economic difficulties, some parents had the mistaken notion, which they transmitted to their children, that the way to overcome these difficulties is to become quickly assimilated into the new environment by discarding the heritage of their forefathers and abandoning the Jewish way of life. Finding that this process leads to the discomfort of inner spiritual conflict, some parents resolved to spare their children this conflict altogether. They simply gave their children no Jewish education or training.” That’s history folks. Finding ourselves desiring to fit in leads to the dreaded fifth son. I still had sex this weekend. I get to see Sir’s next weekend. Life is good. Next post: Creating the Third Place, Starbucks and S/m. Greater explaination of SONS and the Seder can be found by clicking on this scentence. WOOHOOO SIRS SOON! Who are all those people?
Friday, June 11, 2004
SMOOURAGASBOARD
Starbucks is crazy fun for any individual who like buff men. Problem is, there is no way to tell them that…one has to be happy with longingly oogling them. Anyway…small town life is taking some strange turns. I forget how driven some of my peers are, and I keep feeling a little bit in-adequate in comparison to some of them. It’s tough to describe to people who are not affiliated with youth, or with current youth anyway. Hell, it’s tough to describe no matter what. Basically a lot of my old school chums are now doing internships. One for howard Stern, another for a not for profit company. Some of them, are even getting paid and working for the big boys (financial planning companies and advertising firms). They have plans like “law school” or Masters in business. While I work at starbucks hoping that 7.50 for the next 2 years will be enough to earn 16,000 and get me through my last year of school (debt free even). And what if I never get an internship? What if my degree is worthless after 4 years? What if they outsource the thing I was trained for…what if starbucks is my future?! Not the last one so much, but you get the gist. Meanwhile, I ran into one the kids I had a crush on from highschool. I met him my junior year. He drove this big red ford explorer (the old, cool, version) and had samurai swords. He used to have cuts on him from various drunken nights, or random scuffles. He was a slight hick (from buffalo!), and he would blaze “cop killer” when he saw a police cruiser. He was dangerous, foolish, and nutty. And he would give me rides home when my dick of brother took the car and left me stranded. Now he has a beard, and likes his coffee Venti. And he wants me to call him. He’s straight. But I can fantasize, right? Oh “_____” why don’t we go skinny dipping, I should say sometime. Out! Who are all those people?
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
Silver hedonism! Golden restraints.
I remember when I started this blog it felt like every other entry or so was me describing some form of sex act followed by a complaint of some kind. It’s become somewhat different. Slowly the thing expanded to complaints about my job, life, and it includes my musing, thoughts on some of the most random stuff, and the consistent ass kissing of my Sirs (they are SO COOL, so they deserve it). I was a bit crazy as this thing started, running from experience to experience with out much worry if I was going forward or backward. It was fun, crazy, hectic, and utterly stupid. Dan Savage wrote in one of his columns recently that maybe homosexuals could learn something from straight couples when it came to dating. He pointed out that they have so many rituals and courtship plans because their culture has existed (out in the open) for so many thousands of years. Basically he wanted to point out to some club-drug guy that maybe trying to date a guy directly after sleeping with him did not work as well as dinner first. At least that was my impression. It made me think of myself and my own introduction to leather. See, I always knew leather existed. I thought it was was gay men were before I knew any gay men. My first introduction to it was Police academy (the men dancing, and the guy with the garbage can lids guarding his naked body as he got shoved in). I once used oyster bar as a code for going out to a gay bar because of that movie. With net access anyone can discover their fetishes by the time they hit puberty. Not only discover them, but discover they are not alone in them. And with cable you can see your fetishes acted out by celebrities (if they are tame enough). There was no need for coaxing on someone else’s part to get me to get tied up for the first time. In fact I heard a lot more of “talk to me when your older.” However, for every 10 of those, you could find one “sure.” Most of my initial exploration came from the internet. But those are things to ponder some other time… Alli invited me out to a bar. No drinky for me, but old friends scream summer. Who are all those people?
Friday, June 04, 2004
Starbucks boy
The coffee giant known as Starbucks has consented to hire me; believing me capable of serving their sizzling brew to the delightful patrons of Their ever-loving global Starbucks Corporation. I start on Tuesday. I’m not sure that I am excited. I’m more worried than anything. Barista is one of those jobs that is easy to hate. The customers can suck, your boss can be mean, and, well, you serve coffee, which screams MONOTANUS. But it’s 7.50 an hour, with room to grow, and hours that are nice. Oh, and I get free coffee, delicious, tasty coffee. More than anything at the moment I am excited to have a job that is local. My commute to Teching was about an hour and 15 both ways. Now it’s about 5 minutes. This leaves so much time to do stuff. I can hit the gym for one, blogging, volunteering at the local firehouse (yum), TNG, and helping out GMSMA with a website (maybe). It does come with an Uber-sad cost. Less time with SIRS. Since Starbucks corporation does not allow for one to do twelve hour work days (8 or less), one has to work diligently to reach 40 hours. That means 5 days a week which means that my trips to boston must now be contained within a weekend. Friday-Saturday-Sunday, and only the one full day of Saturday since I will arrive at like 8 on Fridays, and leave at 8 on Sundays; getting me to NYC at 12, and home at 2 am (I hope). And that’s the year ahead. Working hard to earn little, and not having as much vacation as I want, all the while pondering what the hell I’m doing. I want to find that cool job. You know, the job were can I show up love what I do, and then leave while the sun is still out. And one that lets me talk on the phone while I am there. And it would have cool people who worked there. Problem being…I don’t think I would by coffee from a place that was open from 12-4 and had all of it’s workers on the phone or talking to each-other. I can’t wait to have my college degree, but I am still frustrated and unsure of what I want to go for. Do I want to do marketing? Finance? Accounting? Which pays more? Which won’t I hate? How do I know what I will like in 3 years? I miss being a kid who didn’t have to work all that often. This is okay too, it’s summer in my town, there are all sorts of possibilities, and I haven’t screwed up my life yet. It’s just there is SO MUCH to decide, and so little time. And other times there is SO MUCH time and so little money. I mean I have 6 weeks, I could go to France if I had the cash. “every time God Closes a door he opens a window” “that’s so we’ll have something to jump out of” (saved) But back to regular life: Yesterday I was at the Yankee Game. I was working as an EMT because the ambulance company I work for has a special “entertainment” division that covers those games in case a fly ball should hit someone. I digress, I was at this game, and when I wasn’t watching the field I kept getting the eye from this guy in a Gotham Knights rugby Shirt. He would get up to use the bathroom and say hello as he passed. I would smile and nod his way when he went by. Finally I broke down and asked when there next game was. “oh, I quit” “oh?” “yeah, just got busy elsewhere” “hmmm” and then I went for the kill “ever get to the eagle?” “Yeah…” We exchanged numbers. I love it when that stuff works out. I think it’s the kill I seek more than the actual acts sometimes. Knowing that I could sleep around with some guy is sometimes all I need. Sometimes that is. After work that day (Thursday) I hit the gym my local gym (my college has a campus near my house that has one! It’s been awhile since I’ve worked out with any consistency, so I had a lot of questions for the trainer. He was really helpful, and really nice too, I had forgotten that about the suburbs. You can say hello to people on the street and they will respond with “how are you?” even if they don’t know you. The trouble with suburbs is this: There is little consideration of things outside the spectrum of normalcy that exists there. I can’t cruise up there. Catch somebody’s eyes in the city and you can figure out if they want you…catch someone’s eyes in the burbs and you can figure out if you know their sister, son, daughter, whatever. Oh well, life is otherwise good and so forth. New Job, Same great wonderful fantastic Sirs, and same college. Life is attaining an equilibrium. Weird. Who are all those people?
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
Peter Pan Pondering
To my knowledge, most people haven’t read the actual book of Peter Pan. It’s the greatest trick of Disney, and the greatest proof of the power of films. Everyone thinks they know the story, but few actually do. We all have this Disney-fied version of the children’s tale. Something that’s been boiled down, simplified. It’s a soggy, wet drizzly kind of tale. The plot is basic and the moral is glib. The boy who never grows up, and the importance of being an adult. That’s not what pan was ever really about. The books is essentially an extension of the way that women were/are treated. Think about it…wendy is made become the mother of a bunch of children that she doesn’t want. Peter Pan becomes their father, all the while remaining a child. Wendy loses her childhood while peter pan can remain forever young no matter what he does. It’s totally ani-feminism It’s also a cautionary tale, and full of dips. Tinker bell dies, the nanny (dog nanny) dies, Wendy grows old, and watches her daughter fall for peter knowing that he will break her heart. It’s my favorite book from when I was a kid. There is nothing cynical about it, no surprise ending, no pop culture references, and there are pirates. How can you not love a book that has pirates? I am glad none of the movies capture the book totally. It’s about 4 bucks, and takes an afternoon to read. It’s something I consider to be the authoritative book on childhoods. This was a really good weekend. Perfection is a night of dancing that has you discovering the joy of hanging in a pack. Kin, Conc, and yours truly went to splash. A shameless dance bar that charges you 20 bucks to enter, and then feels okay with 7 bucks for a beer. Somehow I was handed vodka, and I then became a teenage school girl. Vodka, and red bull in fact. Which is messed up, cause your drunk, and wired. Of course, previous to this I was with Conc in some French fusion restaurant sipping blue things (you have to request water, otherwise they just give you alcohol). But it was fun. Deep talks between Conc and Kin ensued as I kissed a brooding New Jersey in-habitant. But at the end of the night Kin and I met a man from boston. We headed back to Kin’s place (ultra cool e-village pad). Talked a bit, Conc and I headed home, and spent the night snuggled up in his bed, while kin spent the night with our stranger. Sunday, was fun too…until I fucked up because I listened to my little friend mr. Penis. I don’t want to go into it. But it was foolish. Other than that…My current thoughts are about a family mystery. My grandmother and grand father took in a young gay man when my father was younger. The boy had been thrown out of his house and my grandparents took him in while he went to school. He eventually went on to do lighting on broadway. If he survived aids, and is still alive he would be 60…and most assuredly interesting to talk to. But where does one start? And why didn’t I know this sooner?! Mysteries are fun Who are all those people?
Sunday, May 30, 2004
the further adventures of me!
So much to type, so little time. Sirs are at IML and i miss the ever so terribly. I am reading Peter Pan, and it is brilliant. Last night i got drunk and went dancing, and there is a call log to my Sirs... but i don't re,e,ber much of the conversation. I think i left a message. It was so scool, me Conc, and Kin, like a trio of fun. This might work! sigh, still miss Sirs Who are all those people?
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
What color is your rainbow?
I title my blogs before I start writing them or, even know what the hell I am going to be writing about. Which it why many of the titles don’t link up, but some do, and that’s called magic. These past 5 days have been so amazing, it really feels like I am growing into the boy they want me to be. Maybe it’s that we are getting comfortable with each other, able to anticipate who needs what, and what I can’t do. But, it really feels like I’m getting the hang of things. Like when someone buys (or makes) you a sweater that’s too big. So you throw it in the back of your closet, and one day you see it there, and try it on, and it fits perfectly. Like it was just waiting for you to come along. That’s what it feels like. Of course, this by no means says that I am perfect, nor that everything runs smoothly. There are little things that I forget, and some things that I didn’t get done. For instance, I keep forgetting to switch the bath tub nozzle back to “bath” after I take a shower. I kept sleeping in, not getting up first to make Sirs breakfast (I sleep so well there, that I am a rock sometimes). I melted a measuring cup, and broke a glass, and made Cous-Cous into something more like “Jell-O” than rice. Also, last night I was a bit off the walls (nervous about going home). However, I made some good chicken, kept the house clean, got my Sirs lunch made. I made sure that the laundry was picked up, and the dry cleaning. As well as helping out a friend of Sir and Daddybear’s with his computer. I drank Sirs piss twice, no complaint, and to be honest, I haven’t desired to complain. It’s asked of me, and I want to comply. I remember when I met them that I complained when He asked it of me; I coughed up half of it, feeling like I couldn’t swallow. Sir told me after that first time that I would ask for it, one day. I don’t think I’m there yet. I certainly don’t crave it the way that Bbro does. Yet, there is a part of me that realizes how much Sir likes that and, that part is more than willing. I just haven’t found that sweater yet. I also confessed to Them I still worry that They are going to go away, and I am still not sure why. Sir told me that I’m good for Him, and that felt really good, I like the idea of being helpful to Them. I just love Them, I really do. I love being with Them, being near Them, being Theirs’. It feels good, and I feel well. They keep telling me I’m a good person, and I’m a good boy, and that Their proud of me. I’m starting to believe it. I wish that everyone could have that experience. To meet some amazing people who really care about them. That anyone could understand the joy that subservience can bring. Or even the reverse, that everyone could understand the beauty of domination. Not the over-bearing asshole or wimpy geek, that are so often created as a parody of our relations. But the nurturing parent angle, the firm hand that pushes, and pries in an attempt to encourage. The teacher-student identity that we call Sir-boy. The mixture of respect, desire and love that forms such cohesive bonds. But I’m selfish. I want them all to myself, or at least as much of them as I can get. Maybe that just goes back to the whole worrying about them going away thing. Perhaps as I become more sure of my place I’ll stop feeling that way. And helping others really does bring them joy. It’s fun to see this road ahead, it’s a bit long, and clearly not smooth, but it’s mine to walk and that is exciting. Glad it’s not alone. Who are all those people?
Thursday, May 20, 2004
Road Triply
I’m in a car on my way to Boston. Unbeknownst to me, my Sirs came into the city last night. It’s really nice just being with them, I must have spent like 10 minutes kneeling and hugging Daddybear around the waist. I would have done the same with Sir, but he seemed to be busy with getting some leather of his prepped from IML. So last night I got an e-mail from Sir telling me I had to pick up something for him from one of the leather shops in the city. When I came into the shop, there he and Daddybear were! Granted it sucks that I didn’t know they were in the city the night before, but seeing them is just so nice. And I imagine that they wanted some time alone in the city, that and I was working, so seeing them would have been tough anyway. Right now they are playing Cher as the Mustang they rented hit’s 70, Sir and Daddybear have their sunglasses on and I am crammed into the back seat. It feels good. Home is still weird for me, I feel like I am walking on eggshells. They know I’m there, I know they know. We talk, and there are conversations…conversations like “we should get out of Iraq” “yes, we should.” And on Tuesday they gave me a list of “house rules” that inform of things I have known since I was 10. It feels sort of condescending. I am dealing though. I guess it just feels like its going to suck, more that it is actually sucking. Meanwhile, Kin and I spent an interesting night at the eagle this past weekend. It basically ended with us and two others pissing on him in some alley. A very nice way to end my time in NYC. Specs was there earlier in the evening, but I am more or less over it. He’s cool hang with so that’s nice, and he’s hot and fun, but no real need on my part to do fawning. Ahhh, the cool breeze, hot Sirs, and a content boy. I’m, thinking it’s all going to work out. Who are all those people?
Tuesday, May 18, 2004
Home again, jigety jig
Christ this sucks. I don't want to be home, i don't want to call this home. I'm feeling like i am sinking into depression. it just sucks. Worse yet, on the 17th i was moving and found out a kid i used to know killed himself. Got drunk after night with his mother on her birthday and flung himself out the window of their manhattan apartment. sound familiar? At therapy today i realized that i have known 4 kids who have died. at 20 the figure is a hire than most people. Sigh, it's too sunny out to start getting mopey. I like summer, summer should be happy. I want to postpone this for until winter. I see my Sirs this thursday. i'm normally way more excited. But i find myself in the grips of suckage. I know it's home, but do i have to call it that? because i don't want to Who are all those people?
Saturday, May 15, 2004
More blog!
Almost a year. Insane, Isn’t it? A lot of craziness, and a lot of fun. Something new happened tonight I discovered what a Tiff is. A tiff is when you have an argument with your Sirs, understanding that you can’t win as your argument is something like “I’m horny and more than willing to be chopped up into small meat patties so I can have sex with two men who’s images I find attractive on the internet” It’s not my strongest argument. A tiff is having the phone call end with them saying “this conversation is over” only to call back with “your still not playing with them, but We want you to know We are not angry and that We care about you” It’s so hard to feel disgruntled when putting on their collar still makes you squeal (I had to take it off for work). I’m still writing my article. I want it to be really good, and I think it’s come around. The trick is to make myself not sound bitter. Because I’m not, but bitter is so easy to write. I’ve basically come up with 10 ways for anyone to improve their local leather community. In not any particular order at the moment, and the actual list will explain this better. 1) When you go out to a bar, call some of your friends. 2) Pass out your e-mail address as much as possible 3) Introduce friends of yours to each other 4) Never say never 5) Attempt to be someone you would look up to 6) Discover yourself before attempting to discover someone else 7) Buy a book, read it, and then give it away 8) Decide if your into leather sex or leather lifestyle 9) Don’t do crystal 10) Be honest I’m only really sure about 5 though. Anyway, I am reading this book that my Sirs gave me for a bit. I can tell I like it cause all I want to do is highlight it and write my thoughts all over the pages. It’s called the alchemist. It’s nifty. Who are all those people?
Saturday, May 08, 2004
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?
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
CAFFINE
I LOVE YOU CAFFINE I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH>>>>> AND I HATE TESTS and FINALS OH AND I LOVE CAPS TOO MMMMM I HAVENT"S SHOWERED TODAY! WEEEEEEEEEEE sleeping naked! Who are all those people?
Saturday, May 01, 2004
A letter to my parents
Dear Mother, Father, Let me dispense with the courtesy normaly extended in letters. I will not be asking how you are. I will not be pondering what you have been up to. And I don’t plan on hoping this letter finds you well. I don’t really care. I want to be clear, I am bitter, angry, and annoyed with you. I wish I could write this letter from some moralistic high point. That I could look down upon with eyes that didn’t squint and mouth that wouldn’t sneer. I wish that this letter was an exercise in calm, cool-headedness. I would so desire to be writing this 10 years in the future. So far ahead in time that I could ignore on the meaningless stuff. I am will be trying to ignore all the meaningless stuff as this letter goes along, but I am sure some of it will crop up. I don’t hate you. It’s too simple to hate you, too easy, and I don’t want my life to be that easy anymore. You both continue to serve as a reminder to me that one doesn’t HAVE to love their parents. But that would be digressing (I do that a whole lot)…I don’t hate you, I don’t love you. So what do I feel for/toward you? I cannot pretend to be ambivalent toward you, I wish I was though. I am angry, and frustrated with you both. I am upset, and confused by you. Mostly, I’m just tired of you two. I’m tired of hearing you tell me you love me. I’m tired of fighting over what appropriate behavior. I am tired of wanting to be someone else to please you. I am tired of not feeling good about myself around you. More over, I am tired of having a bad evening because of you. I am tired of obsessing over something small you said. And I’m tired of feeling crazy because, I do that. I’m angry that you tell me your excited about my A in math this semester. I am angry because that doesn’t change anything for you. I am frustrated that I can’t seem to drive it into your head that telling another human being I am gay doesn’t mean I am “flaunting my sexuality.” I am confused at how you can claim to not have an issue with me being gay, and then tell me to not tell anyone about it. I am not, and will not be a secret. You should be content that I haven’t explained the bruises I had last summer. And I am scared. I’m scared that I won’t have you in my life, I’m scared that you will never change. I scared that this is how it will always be, that as I get older you will become MY secret. I worry that I will never invite you to come over, that this whole thing between us isn’t a phase. I’m scared that you won’t be in my life because, frankly, after the money runs out, I don’t think I want you in it. I worry that you’re right. That all the criticisms, the shame, the fear that you both have…I worry that you’re justified. But, you want to know what I worry about most? You are supposed to be the ones to know me best. I’ve known you longer than anyone else. The thing I worry about most is that when you say you love me, that that’s really love. That it is what all love becomes over time. And that makes me sad. Here is how this letter ends. I am not a big fan of ultimatums, and I don’t plan on becoming one. Mostly because I don’t know how I will feel on any given day. But, I want this to be an ultimatum. Tonight, Father, you asked me to stop calling you Father, cause it sounded too formal. I will stop calling you Father, when I believe you’re a dad. When hanging out with you for a day makes me feel good at the end of it. When one of your critics on my life comes with an offer for improvement. When I miss seeing you. That’s when I will call you Dad, okay Father? Same goes for you Mother. I will never insult you, I will not be disrespectful, I’m too good for that…but I will never be loving. I’m too good for that also. And now for the ultimatum: If I continue to feel bad about my lifestyle choices when I am home. I won’t come home. And I won’t let home come to me…ever. I’m not perfect, I won’t pretend to be. But I won’t let you make me feel flawed. I’m not going to send this letter to you. I don’t see a point to it. But I’m gonna keep my ultimatum. And I’m gone keep my promise. Who are all those people?
Friday, April 30, 2004
mmmmm..sleep
Okay, So I slept like 13 hours today. It was great, but I got a point for not sending my schedule off, which sucks. Man I have been lazy today. I did some studying, and have gotten a lot of homework done, but in terms of productive time spent I don’t think I could claim that. I miss my Sirs, I can’t wait to see them, and if I am doing well in school then all the better. God I hope I make all A’s That would be SO cool. Yesterday was…pretty fun to! Me and DexSir hit a park. One the Hudson river park projects It was nice out so I spent the time going over some notes from class and staring at the sky. Okay, 15 minutes doing this post and I need to get back to work! Who are all those people?
Thursday, April 29, 2004
Music
I just downloaded kill bill songs…. MMMMMMMMMM I feel like I am carrying a hand gun, but with the out the fear that I will shoot my foot. Doooo dooo DAH! “There’re not 88 of them, they just call themselves that” “Then, why do they call themselves the crazy 88s?” “Don’t know, they probably think it sounds cool” and who could forget? “You call that begging? I’ll make you beg.” It almost makes me wants to buy a gun, learn how to sword fight, and wield a metal ball on the end of chain. Then form an elite assassination team and attempt to conquer the Tokyo crime-underworld. Almost. Can we tell finals are upon us? College would be so much cooler if it were directed by Quentin Tarantino Who are all those people?
