hey Sean dirk here - read on for some love and fun and sexxy -- ah....stuff...
seanbateman9
Why I was born...
I was born up from the pain of our lust.....
I came from you and me and the center of all that is light and dark...the essence of power and masculinity...
and being so birthed as i was told - by renegade angels and defectors from "God" my purpose is firm...and I'am solid now and real...and I need not swear my allegance to my brethan...
my gay brothers who i will always hold in light...whom I will always protect and guide and love...
no I need not take a vow - nor chant words of any kind:
why ?
because it is my purpose - it is what I'am - the protector - the strentgh of eros...personaifed and solidified
and when I'am done and finsihed there will never again be a gay child harmed nor hurt again....
no - i will bring power to us all...in a way - and change everything....
yes - I want you to be strong and go forth and inspire....
it is your duty and mine - and so be it - if that they attack --
then by my spell - it will only make you strong and yet more powerful...
my disciples belong to me...take my hand....
and enter...the Temple....
come forth - brother...allow me to touch you...and hold you ...yes...take my hand....
I love you
The angels have sworm that I would be their masterpiece...
The masterpiece of angels...
I'am now - Alive...and I came here just for you....
love Sean dirk...
>>>>>>>>>>
recently -- upon a woman finding out that I'am GAY for guys...
she remarked...
"such a waste...."
I replied...
"No sweetie - you wanna know what a waste is...??
>>> Everytime your boyfriend sticks his dick in your useless snatch....ok -- thats a waste..."
end quote....
F**K her -- useless breeder...
This is typically the reaction you get from Straight women who can't accept that their snatch isn't the center of the universe....
and guess what -- It's NOT!
Not in my universe anyway....
>>>"Yeah - I love cock -- and you >> Dont have one bitch - so a big gay -- F**K off to all the straight women -- who can't respect -- my personal space...
Enough said...
art sketch by - Artistguy77
on this site....
((thnkxx bro...much appreciated...))
The NEW Breed...
ENTER HERE:
for darkness and dreams...and angels and lust....
>>>>>>
Iam a poet
destined to live my life
always in love and grief...
always hearing the voices of angels...
iam volatile and angry --
an angry angel that just wants to go home --
wants to be wrapped in god
wants the world to disappear
wants to be eaten by demons
and become their envy --
wash it all away
explode into a thousand heavens -- and then wash upon the shore....
rested and clean...restored --
>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Mike Knight...
((A sample of writing))
mike knight...the pleasure model...
one of the most toxic people i have encountered...yeah...
and yeah he had a big dick also and a hot ass...which he shoved a "bump" of coke into -- in the bathroom...right after he found his black jock strap...in the pile of dirty clothes...
in a closet full of "thomas pink" -- ((350.00$) shirts and "Armani" 2000.00$ dollar suits...
mr. knight was a high level...banking executive...there he was -- 4am -- ass in the air...a bump of coke up his ass and a bottle of poppers to his nose...ready to get fucked...in his 2500.oo dollar a month apartment...and there i was...
a kind of gay...dirty harry...shaman...hustler...doctor of the soul...ready to take mr. knight down to the bowels of hell and take his demons...out and bring him face to face with them...
yeah...hey guess what...i'am gonna show you your own self --hatred...and i'am gonna do it -- with my dick up your ass...and while i'am fucking you...i'am gonna make you cry --
by asking you...
"Tell me how much you fucking hate yourself...to be getting fucked like a pig...on the floor...you are so beautiful...and look at yourself...why are you trying to destroy yourself...you have everything but you have nothing -- do you bro? your just a scared little boy that wants to get fucked by daddy...well, here i'am...say it-- : fucker...I wanna hear you say how much you hate yourself...!!! (i'am fucking him harder now as i yell that at him...)) say it fuck head...you want my load...? is that what you want...? bare-backing at 5am -- all high on coke....gonna go to the office in three hours and put together another banking deal...that will make sure people like you get more and more and that people like me will get less and less? is that it fucker??
i wanna hear you say that i'am your god...and that my dick..is your god and that you worship the ground i walk on..."
and that you hate yourself...because you need me...and my darkness..."
the guy broke...
while i was fucking him...
he began to cry...and the two worlds met...crashing together...the two personaes...collided...the one that wore the black jock strap and the one that wore the 350.00 dollar shirt...and his insanity cracked and his mask feel to the floor...
wake up...
he was sobbing...and i loved him....for that \
yeah to do that for him...
give him "therapy" like that....
pull off his shackles and yank him into the light -- out of platos cave - like that...
yes - Mike Knight - I will always love him...
I took him to heaven and set him free....
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
HEAVEN IS BEAUTIFUL...
follow me...
to the gates of pleasure and wisdom....
all the secrets...
Hey Hey all my bros...
All my pics are unlocked - so go for it - d-load as you like for your personal use...of course....
((All images are copywritten...BTW..))
Guys showing (SEXY) arm-pits get my attention first...
just for the record...
>>> Sean Dirk here.....
I want to set you free...
My blog
"Sean's Blue Pajamas"
http://seanbateman9.blogspot.com/
>>> Some of my favorite sexy > vids are here:
www.youtube.com/gaybullet
>>>>>>>>>
Angels - demons and heaven...
A blog sample...
A long time ago...
AN angel was sent to watch over and protect a human...
but instead of protecting him the angel fell in love...
the angel fell in love with the human - every hour yearning to be closer and closer to him...
soon the angel forgot about God or heaven and became forever entranced with the human man...
soon the angel forgot to fly - he fell - and then was soon born into a human body...
the human went on with his life: being so deeply touched by the angels love that when he died he was able to ascend up to heaven...
filled with love: he became angel himself....
a long time ago a demon was sent to watch over a human...
the demon became entranced by the human and instead of destroying his soul, the demon fell in love with the human...soon the demon lost his will to do evil and fell from the powers of darkness...
the demon was born into a human body...
the human upon dying had no bad deeds to his life since the demon never once tempted or harmed him:
the human was full of love and went to heaven and became an angel...
once a long time ago an angel was sent to watch over a human...but soon the angel feel in love...
he forgot about heaven and soon instead of becoming human he became a demon...under the influence of the powers of darkness....
one day the demon was told to go and find a certain human and destroy his soul...
when he came upon the human he saw that he was protected by an angel...
instantly the demon was healed and flew right up to heaven...
because his sins were washed in an angels love - he too became an angel...
this is the story of how we are born...
and live and go to heaven....
we rise and fall...and live on.
sometimes the demon and sometimes the angel...but always in love...
and always going to heaven...
for more and the XXX stories youve heard about...see the above blog address...
ok
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
You make me feel ike a star....
***All pics unlocked BTW -- be my guest hotty....
Yes...
I want to set you free....
Lemme see that hot snake of yours...
Your a star....
and I'am a star f**kr....
Guilt and fear are a waste of time...
When I die - and go up to heaven -- standing at the (gay) pearly gates:
God's gonna say to me:
"Man -- you sure made alot of guys happy -- (with your cock and ass)
didn't you...?"
and I say: ((hehee))
"Ah yeah -- that was Awesome! I had a good time...
>>>>>>>>Psychic medicine....???
Dude -- you know how I know your GAY--?
cuz you tried to kiss me last night when you f**ked me --
ok ??
Guess what?
If your always talking about whoose gay -- and all
Homo/// phobic...all the time: then guess what:
Your (f**kin...) Gay....
As I always say:
"Work it out on somebody else - closet case..."
A website called: "blogActive" "outs" republican-politicos that vote against gay guys and lesbians by day butlike to cornhole -- hehee - by night --
read it for yourself -- and out somebody today...it's the American thing to do...
www.Blogactive.com
or in the interest of truly free speech - chk out
www.Larryflynt.com
Sometimes I think -- our closeted brothers make more trouble for us than the "heteros" ever would...
but theyll get the message....ah..Ted -- I'am not gay -Haggard...once they get outed and nailed --
HEY! guess what if your giving money to the catholic church your funding: pedofilia (Watch a DVD called: "Deliver us from Evil..."
your also endorsing --
alcoholism, greed and abuse...
fight the real enemy??
Sinead -- I guess -- had it right the first time...
enough said...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Gay?
right here --- right now and all the time...
>>>>>>>>>> I'am Gay -- and I'am gay for you...and your hotness....
yep faggot -- queer -- got it real bad for all the sexy bros -- hard and sensitive in all the right places -- and I will not apologize for being GAY ever...
bring it on - baby -- guess what -- ?
Ive got a baseball bat as well...
but - I try to walk softly and carry a big dick -- I mean stick....
dont ever let anyone take away your lifeforce or abuse you -- ever...
God and Godess gave me the power -- so I'am using it...
f**k yes!
What will set you free??
yeah...
guilt is a waste of time....
is it that straight people hate us - or - do they just wanna be us...?
ponder that...
but enough of their ah -- toxic -- shame...
they can't figure out how to partner with another human being so of course -- they don't want us to...legally anyway...
ok -- lets move on...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Sean here...
my friends call me "Dirk..."
I'am...
the secret of your sex dreams....
yeah...
I'am...
and I know how to make it better...
and hold you - just right....
what is this ???
http://seanbateman9.blogspot.com/
If you want to see my pics -- G rated or XXX there all open...
hey -- Hot cream for you -- here bro---
Sean here...my pics are unlocked...
>>>>>>>
"People are always asking me: if I know Tyler Durden..."
ahhh- yeah I can take it like a Marine...
and be your Drill -- sargent -- tell me where you want me to blow it.....
welcome to the temple -- of the Cock..
my cock...
and yours...
together...
holding it
touching it...
the religion of pleasure...
owning it...
yes...
kneel at my altar --- and Ill kneel at yours...
yes i worship the phallus...
porn star chad Hunt -- sent me an email...he said that his penis offered me all the blessings it could bestow...
yeah --I'am real...
I'll take Courtney Love over Madonna...anytime...
Hey - have you read this far??
Thanks for all the "Hey's" and compliments...
I like all the cool profiles -- and guys spending time to show us about their lives -- really awesome...
>>>> If ur looking for ah -- mr. twink then, call the twink factory -- ok bro ??
but if: >>>>>>
Ya wanna whiff ????
Smells like "Mennen" "speed stick" in here....
sure does...
remember the way your high school locker room smelled?
the first time you saw - the jock-stud -- in the showers - after practice...??
the water flowing over his body....?
yeah...Remember --
the glory of his cock and the way he soaped it up...
his ass - powerful and entrancing....
the way he laughed...shining light everywhere....
remember that guy ?
yeah -- f**k yes!
that feeling...that buzz in your knees - how you felt when you saw him...
youll never forget that day -- the day you knew - who and what you are and waht your life was going to be from that day forward...elation - fear - love...wanting...
Wanting him to come...wrap his arms around you....yeah...that ache -
thats where I'am...where I live and hold you - and caress you - touch that place - just for you....
this is where I live...
I'am a toy -- and a boy
and a man...
and a saviour...and a god...
and a devil
and an angel...
the ashes from the cigarrettes...
and a souless grey sky...
during the night of your wanting...
the ache...the knot in the place behind your dick...in your ass...I'am the cure -- for that...
yes -- thats me...giving you medicine.....
the poet -- porn star and the sage of your soothing...
I kissed the boys and made them cry...
but they made me cry too -- so I guess it's even -- right ?
Sean here...
yes...
>>>>> my COCK -- will set you free....
and my ass -- will give you all the secrets you need to know
you jus cmon over to daddies house and I'll prove it...
F**K yeah...
yep...
"Your own personal Jesus..."
and, ah -- yep...
yes...
My (boy)friends -- do call me "Beercan..."
>>and guys always say to me:
"Man-- ur cock tastes so good..."
I like the way you look at me with those beautiful eyes...
and follow me -- around the corner -- grabbing you -- the back of your neck - fast
and pull your lips to mine...hard--- deep -- when no ones looking...
as you go down....
I prefer alley ways and subway cars and sex clubs to a bedroom anyday bros...
ala Genet...yep -- prison trade...yep
street tricks folowing me home --
ok man -- i see you on the street grabbing your cock..then get in here fucker...and throw it down...
yep...
ill kiss - ah sometimes....
spit -- piss-- these are the things of guys....bro--
I wanna smell and taste yours...
no antiseptic -- lights off for me --
catch a whiff of my pits too...ahhh nice...
yeah certified pit worshipper....
show me tell me -- confess to me -- heal me...
yeah --
and after we have all sorts of rough and wrecking the kitchen sex --
i will bath myself in the light of your cock...
afterwards...we fall into bliss...
and -- hell yeah I'll cuddle...
I will pull you into my arms -- lay your head upon my strong
and steady chest -- and then you'll fall perfectly at peace -- into dreams...
and dream the dreams of all the beautfiul gay angels...
warm...protected - at peace...
dont think there are no angels for gay guys -- quite the opposite...
angels made me --
brought me here....to you -
for your pleasure...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>
ok then -- now you know -- who I'am...
and you -- ???
youd better find out...because thats why your here...
>>>>>>>>>>>
ps...
guys showing arm pits - will always get my attention...
I want to make your sexual dreams come true...
say the word -- if you dare....
yeah daddy -- hit the right spot -- please...
nobody else can do it--
yep -- sexual shaman -- ah yeah...
mind bender and dirty boy for you -- all in one...
f**k pup ?
yes...yeah ....
really dirty...SIR -- yes sir--
ah..lemme see - what else??
oh yeah...
SORRY girls...I like Dick!
I jerk off to: (pics of) Chris Evans...
much love -
Sean
ok thats it...
>>>Hot guys from all over the world hit me up...
Sean-Sean
>
A letter to >>>Erik
>>
yeah --
maybe it's becuz i start shaking every time i look into your eyes...
or
the fact that I don't even know you and i can't stand to be away from you...
i want to chain you to the floor so youll never get away -- never again give that cum of urs to anyone but me --
you make me shake inside and i cant talk -
is that love or fear ?
can u love me or do you just love my h**e ??
will u let me handcuff you and blindfold u and take my cock just the way i like it ? >>>>get on ur knees like daddys little cocksucker and service me ??
and then make me do all the same for you ?
-- i never want to forget the look in ur eyes - when u filled my hole full of cream and then licked it out - lapped it out of my hole and then looked into my eyes and kissed me hard and soft all at once --
i want you to come over here with ripe funky pits and make me smell them -- and make me smell your sweaty boots and socks --
and fuc me with ur armpit in my face --
i think i would give you my blood if u needed it...
i would buy you what ever you wanted jus to have the priveledge of looking into your eyes when i woke up >>>
the truth---
i loved u even before i met you -- then i saw u and i knew
i knew you were the one --
>>> maybe becuz you came to my house at nine-thirty in the morning and just blew in and wuz like, "take off those boxers -- now..."
or maybe b-cuz you fucked me so nice and when it got too intense and i tried to pull your dick out of my ass and you were like --
"no -- No way -- Don't pull away from me...."
and wouldn't let me do it and then fucked me ever harder...
or what happened inside of me when we kissed and how you kissed me back -- kinda hard and pushing me onto the bed -- and holding me down like you couldn't get enuff...
erik -- erik Erik....
or maybe
It's just the feeling around you that i feel -
like the whole fucking world is going to explode and the ground is gonna open at any minute -- and i don't care -- and i jus see ur smile and wanna be in ur arms...
and i will want you -- always...
and i will long for you always --
more???
The First Vampire --
A new darkness began...
my punishment is to recant the tale...
to live in the memory --
of wanting to be touched by god...
now my only hope - being spared, is that i have earned the eyes of wisdom...
mangled as i'am...but that is for you to decide...
repenting here...is not a chore...
it is my destiny...
>>>the first guy who taught me --
maybe it was a dream - a dream of long ago --
the spike bar...late eighties...
saturday night. the bar is packed...around 10 pm.
I'am standing at the bar, near the front door.
i'am trying to relax - to cruise - be seen. i want to touch. have attention. smile and nod. my eyes are everywhere...i feel stares over me. it all feels good and forbidden at once...
the first few times your in the spike bar you know your in the epi-center of testoserone, lust and alcoholism...of a thousand unspoken dreams, all of these men: once tortured and closeted boys now come here to the watering-hole of freedom...
sexual freedom. to look now with eyes unguarded. to feel the brush of skin. meet the eyes. men circling. the smells of leather, man funk, sweat, sex. beer. cigarettes and pain and ecstasy...all swirling around you...
i was 26 at that time. i must have been a sight. ripped jeans. simple black t-shirt. oh so clean and bright...life in my eyes...looking around in awe...
it wasn't long before i was snatched up...
i was a begginer. here was a pro, sliding into the space of my chest and shoulders. he simply appeared. i looked up unguarded. my eyes soft and trusting and wanting him to show me all the secrets. give me the entre' into this strange new
world of carnal delights. secret passwords and dark locations...i wanted to have my iniciation. if this man in front of me was the one to do it and he choose me then i was ready...i was ready for something...
he smiles and remains silent. he is tall...wearing a t-shirt and jeans. his eyes are glossed over a bit from a few beers. his smile is knowing. iam his prey - for now...he can do whatever he wants. i want to rest my head on his chestand he can see this in my eyes...he pulls me into his arms and strokes my back with a powerful hand.
he was bigger than me in so many ways. he knew all there was to know about this place - the men who wandered the streets outside, the boys playing in the bathroom shaking and waving their dicks around,
knew all the pass-codes and doorways to knock on...
he nods and smiles and takes my wrist and looks into my eyes. looks down into me. iam enveloped by his aura of sex and knowing and masculinity:
his eyes said: "your mine."
i was. i was fresh and pure..
a babe in arms...what would he do with me?
he didn't have to speak...neither did i. it was all obvious...
he takes my wrist and i meet his eyes...he gently pulls my wrist down - underneath the bar...and smiles...my eyes widen...the men circling the bar...the crush-groove of looking and trying to see...we are surrounded and protected by the moving bodies...
my eyes widen...his hard cock is out of his pants...
his balls and dick exposed through his unbuttoned fly...the top button on his levis is done though - this makes the blood rush faster into his phallus and hold it hard.
he brings my hand to his member and makes sure i wrap my hand around it to gauge its girth and hardness...then he pats my hand and nods his head again...and smiles the smile i surely will never forget -
his piercing blue eyes clear and warm...
his cock warm...
the heat from his chest warm...
pumping his warmth into me - into my heart.
he smiles that smile...
i grip his cock --
does he want me to suck it ?
maybe in the bar ?
taste the pre-cum oozing steadily from the head?
i explore the length and smoothness of it - trying to take it all in...a body is behind me. men surround me, his penis seems so nice and i ache for it - ache to see it with my eyes...taste it. i will do whatever he commands.
gladly drop to my knees and suck him off. let him fuck me at the bar while standing there...undetected, no one could know, no one would care. my own dick sprang alive:
quick and firm and then became so hard: it knotted my staomche...
i wanted him to turn me around and maybe shove down my pants and slide his cock head up against my butt -
he had other plans....
he winks. "leans his head to the door. "lets go outside..."
soon we are on a side street. in the privacy of the dark - alone - standing against a wall in between two parked semi-truck trailors. no one could disturb us or find us...
he leans against the wall. same smile. same nod of the head. same eyes looking down. i know what i want to do. i lift up his shirt to expose his perfect overbuilt and hairless pecs...
a masculine and distinctly male smell emmanates from his torso and arm pits...
i lay me head onto his chest for a minute and become still...he allows me to stay there knowing how much iam in his trance...his hands undo his jeans now and his cock still hard flies lazily forward and i touch it again...as if an eternity has passed between now and the last time i felt it...
now the ache ever growing. he allows me to find my way...my mouth waters...and i bend to my knees at his crotch...and take the head into my mouth.
the pre-cum is sweet and i taste it slowly...
it truly is like a cream i could never have imagined...sticky - warm...like life...
and then i open my throat to accept as much of him as i can.
i grip the sides of his waist hard holding to gain leverage.
he rubs the top of my head and pulls my head toward his belly as if he now owns me - all of me.
i'am captured forever in his eyes- his smell. his taste. the size and hardness was everything i felt it would be...thick and full. to this day i havent tasted a finer man's cock or cum...
iam melting into him...disrupted momentarily by his hands leaving the top of my head to undo my pants and grab my own cock - once with a sure grip...then satisfied there is stillness...
his hands lift up my shirt - slide down my lower back to push down my jeans, my butt exposed to the night. the air hits my asshole as he spreads my cheeks apart with technique of a pro...opening, exposing, sucking, kneeling, worshipping, tasting: his hands hold my ass firm and still pulling my cheeks apart wider once more until the inner core of my hole begins to know and swell and ache further...
there is stillness and then one of his fingers taps lightly and then crawls into my hole...inches its way inside...
i relax. and arch and move...
he forces his other hand to my chin and slides his finger into my mouth and i suck on it...then he removes it and this finger finds its way down into my hole also...deeper. wet from my own mouth...
iam light headed. falling - flying...the alcohol from his body wafting into me mixing with the heat-
the pleasure he is giving me...showing me - teaching me to have for his delight...touching my virgin hole, the scared space of my manhood behind my balls...
the place that was a treasure to him - he holds his finger inside and presses hard until i grip around it...he finds a space inside of me - it buzzes - opens everything....
my hole...open the tender luscious light exposed and spilling out..."aww god..."
iam still sucking his cock slow and easy...i lift slightly and move to allow him to go deeper...
which he does...
i moan to the point of climax....
he is holding me in every way a man can...
by instinct i began to furiously jack my own cock...and then...fast --
he shoots a hot stream of jizz down my throat. my body shakes in upheaval. quivers and racks in pleasure...
he holds me down.
he makes me swallow as much of his cream as i can and then staying there - he remains hard -- i brush his shaft againt my cheek...
i descend...fall to my knees...and know: now he is forever my god...
i wish to be closer and thank him...world exploding inside of me...all the channels full of light and pleasure...
he pulls me up and kisses me hard and deep and long...iam his rag-doll limp and intoxicated...
then without warning he pushes me back away from him and then stares...to solidify the wound in my neck...to pierce me one last time with his stare...
tatto his name and image onto me...to say -- "forever - your mine"
- he takes his fingers to his nose...and breathes in the smell from my fresh young ass...judges it fine indeed...by the faint smile of approval.
i wait.
another deep savoring of the gift my hole gave and wrapped onto him...
he smiles. "yeah - your hot."
then he pushes me away. puts his hand flat onto the center of my chest and pushes me away.
"your fucking hot." betraying that he felt me worthy...
when you want it - you know where to find me..."
my hole forever his...
there would alsways be a small part of me that could only be satisfied by him...he made sure of this..
how many times i dreamed that he fucked me - that he took me home. kissed me longer. let me smell his arm - pits...
get fucked in the alley where we stood...
how many streets i wandered trying to conjure him again..
always his eyes watching me. watching what i will do with his hole...
everything begins with him...the first bite. the one who made me...was strong enough to keep me all these years...his spell so clear in my body it never dissipated...
he is the one.
he choose me.
every other man is pale compared to him.
the head vampire.
the most powerful.
the warmest and biggest cock...
i dream of him every night...
his eyes follow me and never leave...
it is him i see in the fever-dream of my conversions...
his arms wrapped around me in the transformation...
his sublime blood and delicious juice inspiring my change...
surging forever now through my soul...
his power is my power - iam beholden and his brethen - in his coven...
his power gave me the strength to survive..what is happening to me now...in the dark-light of becomming the "new bred" i pray he is proud of me -
like father to son...only he can hold me - heal me or destroy me...iam for him alone.
to this day he instructs me and i never forget his eyes...
in comparison through the years he was not kind nor angry...he was warm and powerful...
always warm and powerful...
iam his.
the bond only stronger...
he is the beginning...
the head of the coven...
he would be proud of all the fine men i brought into the fold...
he is the origin of all heat within me...
he loosened the knot in my soul..
put me in his cage - but freed me to the world...
he was my lestat. iam his louis...
he started my fire.
I'am his.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
>>>if you read this far youll get a special prize --
I promise - hehee - ask me for deatils...
much love Sean
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Friday, November 03, 2006
a big surprise...june 1969
i fell a sleep praying to god last night.
today i woke up thinking of andrew. I'am not sure why.
andrew is gone now.
i owe him my life.
I met andrew around 1992, maybe 93 at the height of the hiv epidemic panic.
the "Silence = Death" banners were in every shop window in the villiage. the west villiage then the epicenter of political protests, candelight vigils, home of the new gay and lesbian center where "ACT-UP" was born and held weekly meetings...
the west villiage was also where st. vincents hospital was. it was the hospital you went to when you were dying. you'd visit your friends, watching them deteriorate on the AZT and from the windows of the higher floors you could see the streets filled with angry fags blocking traffic - protesting...acting up.
the media swirling around close behind. you could watch the streams of candels at night held by loved ones carried through the streets and down to the peirs located at the end of "Christopher" street a known destination for gay men the world over...
in the mid eighties -
back then gay owned business' and coffee houses, clothing stores, and porn shops were concentrated into two blocks...
adjacent and one block above christopher is the site of "Stonewall"
the agreed and ackowledged birthplace of the gay rights movement:
the two minute history lesson of how gay rights began "officially" goes like this. the stonewall bar was a mob "protected" bar that allowed drag queens, writers and artists and their hangers on to converge and gather...
at that time there was actually laws against "dancing in bars" and restrictions on the books that disallowed a person to leave his table and simply go up to another table and chat...
basically you were not allowed to fraternize, talk or communicate in groups...but you could meet at the same place, order some food or drink so long as you stayed seated...
if the police raided the place which apparently happened a few nights a week and you were seen standing and talking then this was sufficent reason to arrest you or even the entire bar...
>>>It's true - believe it or not...
i suppose glances, stares or maybe phone numbers were passed via the bartender or waiter...
well...so the story goes...
around june mid 1969, nightly raids and arrests were commonplace at the "stonewall" bar. the entire bar, on any given night, could be arrested and booked on "indeceny charges" which included:
touching, holding hands, wearing clothing designed for the opposite gender or god forbid: kissing another man...
outside the bars, in the streets of the villiage, sting operations were organized by police to entrap gay men into admitting they were interested in SAME sex...sex
plain clothes police would basically lure anyone they believed might be homosexual into offering a stare, a nuance, a conversation...
where upon youd be arrested for "indecent" behavior...
subsequently your name would also be publised in the newspaper later in the week.
it's interesting to ponder just what tactics the police of that time used to lure unsuspecting gay men into their snares...hmmmm lets see...
do you like opera?
are you a friend of dorothy?
do you wear green socks on tues?
these secret "gay" codes unknown to local police were secret invitations or inqueries by gay men: at that time everyone was in the closet...
the only way you could connect was to venture a risk and ask a few questions...
my guess is the cops used all sorts of pyhsical gestures, perhaps crotch grabbing, winks and head nods to seduce or intice the poor tortured gay guys into responding and thus then being trapped and blamed for the incident they were booked for "indecent" behaviors...
the police even went so far as to journal all automobile lisence plate numbers within a three block radius of known homosexual establishments and then track the license plates to a home address where upon theyd visit and inform the residents that their cars were parked near a gay bar further adding to the harrasment and invasion of privacy of anyone that dared go near these "places."
likewise: Iv'e heard many stories from gay-oldtimers that you could be arrested on a whim for basically smiling at another guy on the street: but not before the undercover detectives or police forced the suspects to submit to sex...
or give the detective a blo job in the hopes of being "released."
<> sounds like a gay porn film for sure>>
A man named dick leitsch - the president of the first gay rights organiztion in the country:
"the Mattachine Society" was relatively militant in comparison to former queer liasons that communicated to the police commisioners or mayors office on the down low...
around 1966 Leitsch put "pressure" on the cheif of police and mayors offfice to stop "entrapment" stings and likewise the raiding of the two "homosexual" bars of the time:
"the stonewall" and "julius'" by organizing a "sip in."
both establishments operated without liquor licenses both of which had their licenses revoked for serving alcohol to "three or more" bar patrons "suspected" of being homos..
Leitsch made a formal complaint to the civil rights commision that the state liquor authority policies were random and discriminatory...
two seperate court cases backed by mob cash, so the story goes, were opened and then closed: the ruling was that "sunstantial evidence" was needed in the future to revoke a liquor license.
this basically paved the way for "gay" bars to be legal...
but they still got raided...at the whim of the police.
as "gay history" has noted. men were allowed to meet but not allowed to touch, dance, or ah -- act like fags ? in public. "in public" defined as being "inside" the bar...
from 1966 to 1969 the raids continued coupled with increased mob pay offs, homo witch hunts - drag shows and gender fucks - gay and non gay artists, closeted wall streeters:"*
all converging and flocking to the bars which quickly became financial gold mines mind you...
it is said that allen ginsberg and jack kerouac, to name a few, and dylan thomas all frequented these places or places like them.
<<*A series of recent thefts from wall street brokerages had been traced to juluis bar - the story was that several closeted brokers were being blackmailed and could no loger provide the pay-offs out of their own pockets so they began stealing.>>
the patrons were more and more less inclined to respect and push the limits the hetero cops had laid down...
now this is the part where the drag queens come in...
and likewise ive heard that yes they had a few "Go-go" boys at these places...even back then?
A storm was brewing -- a gay storm ?
a lethal mix of pent up testoserone - alcohol and rage began to brew...throw in some angry drag queen - huslters - artists and Go - Go boys and few really mean lesbians....
the match to the dynamite was close at hand..
but the real "unspoken" crime apparently had more to due with rascism than homophobia. these bars allowed the co-mingling of black, puerto rican and whites which was unheard of at that time..
what a sight that must have been ----
for the "totally white hetero" cops that came in to make the arrests. were they turned on - repulsed - aroused - ? jealous?
all of the above...?
Imagine the white - hetero butchy-s walking in the door and seeing: femmy puerto ricans vouge-ing, go go boys in chaps, ? men holding hands, guys in questionable clothing, perhaps a few trans-gendered men or "mary's" and maybe even a couple of dykes...?
ah - men dancing together...or even maybe - kissing...
to the cops back then it must have been a freak show.
by today's standards, nobody would raise an eyebrow.
the homos were gahtering their numbers -
the fags got angry...and drunk and arrested and then sick and tired of being sick and tired and harrassed and beaten...
the sexual tension began to accumulate...
the rage brewed further.
A world wide -- underground was going to explode...the gay community was being birthed -- but not quite yet...
then in 1969 something happened.
judy garland died...
* * *
much like the lesbian icon - marlene dietrich was to the female gender benders who smoked and wore men's suits: judy galraland became a religious-spiritual figure to the disenfranchised gay men and drag queens of the sixties.
on this particuliar night in june they had converged on fire island to mourn their icon and hold a candelight vigil bereaving their loss...
where upon they returned to the city and the stonewall bar to continue their mourning.
the june heat and humidity after the coolness of the "fire island pines" wafting through the streets added the last co-factor needed...
the drag queens were tired, unconsolable, thirsty and hot...after making the trek back into the city as they filed into the stonewall, their safe place, a raid began...
but it was not going to be business as usual on that night...
no.
if you know anything about drag queens no matter the color of their skin...their personaes empower them to act in ways they wouldn't out of drag...
judy garland - their queen was dead...
the summer heat was raging...the tension had been collecting for months -- years...
this was the 60s - the time of Woddstock - free love - LSD - drug experimentation...rage against the establishment...
the Stonewall Bar...late - late at night...-
drunken queens - alienated "others" - huslters trying to make a buck...minority go - go boys...all the right chemicals for an explosion of rage and change...the match to the dyno-mite...
the cops entered the bar...for their nightly raid...
the fags would submit to their usual beatings - and submission to giving blow jobs - maybe getting fucked -- in an alley...
"i'll let you go -- if you -- just -- open wide..."
The macho-shithead cops roll in -- "billy-club-nightsticks a waving-- perhaps the truer symbols of their gay dicks - turned on and ready to get something...
but then -- someone -- stood up -- in an act of divine rebellion...
gay rage swelling...the world over - focused in the epi-center of manhattan...and then -- it began...
>>>>one ashtray was thrown toward the cops - the oppressors - or maybe even a bottle was projected throw the air...
the accounts differ - with one account naming "sylyvia rivera" as the mother of the stonewall rebellion, who was accosted with a nightstick. another account has an unknown lesbian being pushed into a patrol car resisting arrest in front of a crowd which opened the floodgates of seething rage and gave the final call to arms...
perhaps the words:
NOT TONIGHT - !!! NO WAY...! maybe even a loud - "FUCK you!"
was uttered and heard...fomenting into the streets...
As the arrests were being made -- the cops surrounding the bar -- someone in the mix said: "no. not tonight."
enough was enough.
some of the partrons filed outside either to get away or be arrested in line - they were so used to this kind of treatment they simply filed into lines when the cops showed up...
but the drama was to be different on june 29, 1969...
an ash tray hurled threw the air -- A drag queen knocked the glasses and bottles from the bar...lurched or lunged or even grabbed the night stick that was about to strike his head and then....a riot began...
>>>by historical lore -- all drag-queens of the time loaded their purses with rolled copper - pennnies - maybe even nickles to add weight to their shoulder bags --- and upon being assaulted or vicitmized in the streets late at night they were able to fend off random attackers...it was called:
the "drag-queens revenge."
a sort of "brass knuckles wrapped in gold lame' or red leather...
what a site -- a guy in heels -- drunken - make-up smeared -- abused and angry -- and swinging around a sand-bag of coins into the heads in-coming attackers...
A modern day - "David and Goliath" in heels...
the Stonewall exploded...
the cops got pushed into the bar and the patrons blocked the door so they couldn't get out. then someone lit a trash can on fire and threw it into the bar...
the cops were stunned -- the social - sexual tension/oppression literraly exploded into a violent rageful riot of vengence...
a gay melee began...
and spilled out onto the streets...raged through the villiage and into the steamy city...
people began knocking on doors and screaming from the streets to come outside and join...
telephones rang through the queer underground...
A call to arms -- citywide -- perhaps the world over ?
an estimated crowd of over 2,000 quickly converged fending off the 400 police dispatched to the area...
the unoffical story is that the cops chose the obviously most effeminant men first and beating them with nightsticks...
but they fought back...
they figured they had nothing to lose by clawing - throwing a punch back -- defending themselves for the first time ever...
and it turned into a confused - chaotic free for all...
cops and protesters alike were injured.
that first night there were around 13 arrests...
i suppose the cops were caught off gaurd when the drag queens then "de-dragged" so to speak and turned into angry men prepared to defend themselves...
and likewise these were the same cops that many of which had all ready had sex with the drag queens either by complicit agreement or by force...
surprise...
yeah a big -- "gay" surprise...and a big fuck you to everything -- white and hetero - and opressive...
some tried to light the bar on fire where the police had fled and collected.
historical accounts agree:
"the crowd was uncontrolable, uncontainable and relentless..."
cars were overturned. trash cans a blaze. screaming and resitance: "gay power! GAY power...!"
indeed.
a special tactical police force was dispatched to the area that was trained in veitnam protests but even this - special battalion could not quell the rage and fury of the gay community...who contiued to pelt the police with rocks and "other projectiles."
that first night.
According to the police blotter: At around 4am things dispersed but atleast half of the 2,000 people returned the next evening causing extensive property dammage.
NIGHT AFTER NIGHT --
the riots continued...with the same furious opposition...
then for five days all was quiet as the police and gay community regrouped...ultimately clashing again on the sixth night. the repression of decades simmered and boiled to the surface...
the new "GAY LIBERATION FRONT" set up head quarters in several american and european universities and cities within months as a show of support after hearing the news of "stonewall" which spread via the only forms of communication at that time: letters and telephone...
a year later -
a public march was held from the west villiage to central park in attendence between 5-10 thousand men and women which as you can guess became the world's first gay pride march/parade which is now held annually in most major cities on the last sunday in june...
* * *
fast forward -- to 1992
two blocks below christopher street, on the abandoned west villiage - (greenwich) piers stod andrew in the june heat...sporting a tank top. his arms raised to his shoulders his fingers grasping the chain link fence behind him sort of like in the "arrest me" pose...
immediately i was attracted to him and introduced myself...
he removed his sun glasses and shook my hand...
"whats going on?" he said providing a numb glassy eyed gaze my way...showing his pits and wafting his masculine funk my way...
"I've seen you around..."
"yeah..." he nods in agreement.
>>>the first time we had sex it was pretty rough.
davey lowenstein was in the other bedroom of davey's apartment with some german tourist or perhaps they were getting it on in the kitchen which was decorated with faux madri-gras beads that davey stole from his "off the books" job in midtown...
andrew and i took davey's bed. the walls of the bedroom were lined with his recently deceased mother's dresses...(many of them chanel and YSL originals...)
davey, in order to quell his grief was taken to wearing his mothers clothes on occassion and you can bet no one ever said a word....talk about the "pink elephant" in the middle of the room...
hed serve coffee and wed play cards all afternoon and wait for our monthly food stamp alottment to show up on the computers...
all the while hed be wearing a jackie o-esque frock...
pink or black sometimes with sunglasses -
like i said...even walking down christopher no one looked twice...
ANDREW...
TO be continued...
today i woke up thinking of andrew. I'am not sure why.
andrew is gone now.
i owe him my life.
I met andrew around 1992, maybe 93 at the height of the hiv epidemic panic.
the "Silence = Death" banners were in every shop window in the villiage. the west villiage then the epicenter of political protests, candelight vigils, home of the new gay and lesbian center where "ACT-UP" was born and held weekly meetings...
the west villiage was also where st. vincents hospital was. it was the hospital you went to when you were dying. you'd visit your friends, watching them deteriorate on the AZT and from the windows of the higher floors you could see the streets filled with angry fags blocking traffic - protesting...acting up.
the media swirling around close behind. you could watch the streams of candels at night held by loved ones carried through the streets and down to the peirs located at the end of "Christopher" street a known destination for gay men the world over...
in the mid eighties -
back then gay owned business' and coffee houses, clothing stores, and porn shops were concentrated into two blocks...
adjacent and one block above christopher is the site of "Stonewall"
the agreed and ackowledged birthplace of the gay rights movement:
the two minute history lesson of how gay rights began "officially" goes like this. the stonewall bar was a mob "protected" bar that allowed drag queens, writers and artists and their hangers on to converge and gather...
at that time there was actually laws against "dancing in bars" and restrictions on the books that disallowed a person to leave his table and simply go up to another table and chat...
basically you were not allowed to fraternize, talk or communicate in groups...but you could meet at the same place, order some food or drink so long as you stayed seated...
if the police raided the place which apparently happened a few nights a week and you were seen standing and talking then this was sufficent reason to arrest you or even the entire bar...
>>>It's true - believe it or not...
i suppose glances, stares or maybe phone numbers were passed via the bartender or waiter...
well...so the story goes...
around june mid 1969, nightly raids and arrests were commonplace at the "stonewall" bar. the entire bar, on any given night, could be arrested and booked on "indeceny charges" which included:
touching, holding hands, wearing clothing designed for the opposite gender or god forbid: kissing another man...
outside the bars, in the streets of the villiage, sting operations were organized by police to entrap gay men into admitting they were interested in SAME sex...sex
plain clothes police would basically lure anyone they believed might be homosexual into offering a stare, a nuance, a conversation...
where upon youd be arrested for "indecent" behavior...
subsequently your name would also be publised in the newspaper later in the week.
it's interesting to ponder just what tactics the police of that time used to lure unsuspecting gay men into their snares...hmmmm lets see...
do you like opera?
are you a friend of dorothy?
do you wear green socks on tues?
these secret "gay" codes unknown to local police were secret invitations or inqueries by gay men: at that time everyone was in the closet...
the only way you could connect was to venture a risk and ask a few questions...
my guess is the cops used all sorts of pyhsical gestures, perhaps crotch grabbing, winks and head nods to seduce or intice the poor tortured gay guys into responding and thus then being trapped and blamed for the incident they were booked for "indecent" behaviors...
the police even went so far as to journal all automobile lisence plate numbers within a three block radius of known homosexual establishments and then track the license plates to a home address where upon theyd visit and inform the residents that their cars were parked near a gay bar further adding to the harrasment and invasion of privacy of anyone that dared go near these "places."
likewise: Iv'e heard many stories from gay-oldtimers that you could be arrested on a whim for basically smiling at another guy on the street: but not before the undercover detectives or police forced the suspects to submit to sex...
or give the detective a blo job in the hopes of being "released."
<
A man named dick leitsch - the president of the first gay rights organiztion in the country:
"the Mattachine Society" was relatively militant in comparison to former queer liasons that communicated to the police commisioners or mayors office on the down low...
around 1966 Leitsch put "pressure" on the cheif of police and mayors offfice to stop "entrapment" stings and likewise the raiding of the two "homosexual" bars of the time:
"the stonewall" and "julius'" by organizing a "sip in."
both establishments operated without liquor licenses both of which had their licenses revoked for serving alcohol to "three or more" bar patrons "suspected" of being homos..
Leitsch made a formal complaint to the civil rights commision that the state liquor authority policies were random and discriminatory...
two seperate court cases backed by mob cash, so the story goes, were opened and then closed: the ruling was that "sunstantial evidence" was needed in the future to revoke a liquor license.
this basically paved the way for "gay" bars to be legal...
but they still got raided...at the whim of the police.
as "gay history" has noted. men were allowed to meet but not allowed to touch, dance, or ah -- act like fags ? in public. "in public" defined as being "inside" the bar...
from 1966 to 1969 the raids continued coupled with increased mob pay offs, homo witch hunts - drag shows and gender fucks - gay and non gay artists, closeted wall streeters:"*
all converging and flocking to the bars which quickly became financial gold mines mind you...
it is said that allen ginsberg and jack kerouac, to name a few, and dylan thomas all frequented these places or places like them.
<<*A series of recent thefts from wall street brokerages had been traced to juluis bar - the story was that several closeted brokers were being blackmailed and could no loger provide the pay-offs out of their own pockets so they began stealing.>>
the patrons were more and more less inclined to respect and push the limits the hetero cops had laid down...
now this is the part where the drag queens come in...
and likewise ive heard that yes they had a few "Go-go" boys at these places...even back then?
A storm was brewing -- a gay storm ?
a lethal mix of pent up testoserone - alcohol and rage began to brew...throw in some angry drag queen - huslters - artists and Go - Go boys and few really mean lesbians....
the match to the dynamite was close at hand..
but the real "unspoken" crime apparently had more to due with rascism than homophobia. these bars allowed the co-mingling of black, puerto rican and whites which was unheard of at that time..
what a sight that must have been ----
for the "totally white hetero" cops that came in to make the arrests. were they turned on - repulsed - aroused - ? jealous?
all of the above...?
Imagine the white - hetero butchy-s walking in the door and seeing: femmy puerto ricans vouge-ing, go go boys in chaps, ? men holding hands, guys in questionable clothing, perhaps a few trans-gendered men or "mary's" and maybe even a couple of dykes...?
ah - men dancing together...or even maybe - kissing...
to the cops back then it must have been a freak show.
by today's standards, nobody would raise an eyebrow.
the homos were gahtering their numbers -
the fags got angry...and drunk and arrested and then sick and tired of being sick and tired and harrassed and beaten...
the sexual tension began to accumulate...
the rage brewed further.
A world wide -- underground was going to explode...the gay community was being birthed -- but not quite yet...
then in 1969 something happened.
judy garland died...
* * *
much like the lesbian icon - marlene dietrich was to the female gender benders who smoked and wore men's suits: judy galraland became a religious-spiritual figure to the disenfranchised gay men and drag queens of the sixties.
on this particuliar night in june they had converged on fire island to mourn their icon and hold a candelight vigil bereaving their loss...
where upon they returned to the city and the stonewall bar to continue their mourning.
the june heat and humidity after the coolness of the "fire island pines" wafting through the streets added the last co-factor needed...
the drag queens were tired, unconsolable, thirsty and hot...after making the trek back into the city as they filed into the stonewall, their safe place, a raid began...
but it was not going to be business as usual on that night...
no.
if you know anything about drag queens no matter the color of their skin...their personaes empower them to act in ways they wouldn't out of drag...
judy garland - their queen was dead...
the summer heat was raging...the tension had been collecting for months -- years...
this was the 60s - the time of Woddstock - free love - LSD - drug experimentation...rage against the establishment...
the Stonewall Bar...late - late at night...-
drunken queens - alienated "others" - huslters trying to make a buck...minority go - go boys...all the right chemicals for an explosion of rage and change...the match to the dyno-mite...
the cops entered the bar...for their nightly raid...
the fags would submit to their usual beatings - and submission to giving blow jobs - maybe getting fucked -- in an alley...
"i'll let you go -- if you -- just -- open wide..."
The macho-shithead cops roll in -- "billy-club-nightsticks a waving-- perhaps the truer symbols of their gay dicks - turned on and ready to get something...
but then -- someone -- stood up -- in an act of divine rebellion...
gay rage swelling...the world over - focused in the epi-center of manhattan...and then -- it began...
>>>>one ashtray was thrown toward the cops - the oppressors - or maybe even a bottle was projected throw the air...
the accounts differ - with one account naming "sylyvia rivera" as the mother of the stonewall rebellion, who was accosted with a nightstick. another account has an unknown lesbian being pushed into a patrol car resisting arrest in front of a crowd which opened the floodgates of seething rage and gave the final call to arms...
perhaps the words:
NOT TONIGHT - !!! NO WAY...! maybe even a loud - "FUCK you!"
was uttered and heard...fomenting into the streets...
As the arrests were being made -- the cops surrounding the bar -- someone in the mix said: "no. not tonight."
enough was enough.
some of the partrons filed outside either to get away or be arrested in line - they were so used to this kind of treatment they simply filed into lines when the cops showed up...
but the drama was to be different on june 29, 1969...
an ash tray hurled threw the air -- A drag queen knocked the glasses and bottles from the bar...lurched or lunged or even grabbed the night stick that was about to strike his head and then....a riot began...
>>>by historical lore -- all drag-queens of the time loaded their purses with rolled copper - pennnies - maybe even nickles to add weight to their shoulder bags --- and upon being assaulted or vicitmized in the streets late at night they were able to fend off random attackers...it was called:
the "drag-queens revenge."
a sort of "brass knuckles wrapped in gold lame' or red leather...
what a site -- a guy in heels -- drunken - make-up smeared -- abused and angry -- and swinging around a sand-bag of coins into the heads in-coming attackers...
A modern day - "David and Goliath" in heels...
the Stonewall exploded...
the cops got pushed into the bar and the patrons blocked the door so they couldn't get out. then someone lit a trash can on fire and threw it into the bar...
the cops were stunned -- the social - sexual tension/oppression literraly exploded into a violent rageful riot of vengence...
a gay melee began...
and spilled out onto the streets...raged through the villiage and into the steamy city...
people began knocking on doors and screaming from the streets to come outside and join...
telephones rang through the queer underground...
A call to arms -- citywide -- perhaps the world over ?
an estimated crowd of over 2,000 quickly converged fending off the 400 police dispatched to the area...
the unoffical story is that the cops chose the obviously most effeminant men first and beating them with nightsticks...
but they fought back...
they figured they had nothing to lose by clawing - throwing a punch back -- defending themselves for the first time ever...
and it turned into a confused - chaotic free for all...
cops and protesters alike were injured.
that first night there were around 13 arrests...
i suppose the cops were caught off gaurd when the drag queens then "de-dragged" so to speak and turned into angry men prepared to defend themselves...
and likewise these were the same cops that many of which had all ready had sex with the drag queens either by complicit agreement or by force...
surprise...
yeah a big -- "gay" surprise...and a big fuck you to everything -- white and hetero - and opressive...
some tried to light the bar on fire where the police had fled and collected.
historical accounts agree:
"the crowd was uncontrolable, uncontainable and relentless..."
cars were overturned. trash cans a blaze. screaming and resitance: "gay power! GAY power...!"
indeed.
a special tactical police force was dispatched to the area that was trained in veitnam protests but even this - special battalion could not quell the rage and fury of the gay community...who contiued to pelt the police with rocks and "other projectiles."
that first night.
According to the police blotter: At around 4am things dispersed but atleast half of the 2,000 people returned the next evening causing extensive property dammage.
NIGHT AFTER NIGHT --
the riots continued...with the same furious opposition...
then for five days all was quiet as the police and gay community regrouped...ultimately clashing again on the sixth night. the repression of decades simmered and boiled to the surface...
the new "GAY LIBERATION FRONT" set up head quarters in several american and european universities and cities within months as a show of support after hearing the news of "stonewall" which spread via the only forms of communication at that time: letters and telephone...
a year later -
a public march was held from the west villiage to central park in attendence between 5-10 thousand men and women which as you can guess became the world's first gay pride march/parade which is now held annually in most major cities on the last sunday in june...
* * *
fast forward -- to 1992
two blocks below christopher street, on the abandoned west villiage - (greenwich) piers stod andrew in the june heat...sporting a tank top. his arms raised to his shoulders his fingers grasping the chain link fence behind him sort of like in the "arrest me" pose...
immediately i was attracted to him and introduced myself...
he removed his sun glasses and shook my hand...
"whats going on?" he said providing a numb glassy eyed gaze my way...showing his pits and wafting his masculine funk my way...
"I've seen you around..."
"yeah..." he nods in agreement.
>>>the first time we had sex it was pretty rough.
davey lowenstein was in the other bedroom of davey's apartment with some german tourist or perhaps they were getting it on in the kitchen which was decorated with faux madri-gras beads that davey stole from his "off the books" job in midtown...
andrew and i took davey's bed. the walls of the bedroom were lined with his recently deceased mother's dresses...(many of them chanel and YSL originals...)
davey, in order to quell his grief was taken to wearing his mothers clothes on occassion and you can bet no one ever said a word....talk about the "pink elephant" in the middle of the room...
hed serve coffee and wed play cards all afternoon and wait for our monthly food stamp alottment to show up on the computers...
all the while hed be wearing a jackie o-esque frock...
pink or black sometimes with sunglasses -
like i said...even walking down christopher no one looked twice...
ANDREW...
TO be continued...
Sunday, October 01, 2006
angels - demons - lovers
a long time ago...
an angel was sent to watch over and protect a human...
but instead of protecting him the angel fell in love...
the angel fell in love with the human - every hour yearning to be closer and closer to him...
soon the angel forgot about God or heaven and became forever entranced with the human man...
soon the angel forgot to fly - he fell - and then was soon born into a human body...
the human went on with his life: being so deeply touched by the angels love that when he died he was able to ascend up to heaven...
filled with love: he became angel himself....
a long time ago a demon was sent to watch over a human...
the demon became entranced by the human and instead of destroying his soul, the demon fell in love with the human...soon the demon lost his will to do evil and fell from the powers of darkness...
the demon was born into a human body...
the human upon dying had no bad deeds to his life since the demon never once tempted or harmed him:
the human was full of love and went to heaven and became an angel...
once a long time ago an angel was sent to watch over a human...but soon the angel feel in love...
he forgot about heaven and soon instead of becoming human he became a demon...under the influence of the powers of darkness....
one day the demon was told to go and find a certain human and destroy his soul...
when he came upon the human he saw that he was protected by an angel...
instantly the demon was healed and flew right up to heaven...
because his sins were washed in an angels love - he too became an angel...
this is the story of how we are born...
and live and go to heaven....
we rise and fall...and live on.
sometimes the demon and sometimes the angel...but always in love...
and always going to heaven...
an angel was sent to watch over and protect a human...
but instead of protecting him the angel fell in love...
the angel fell in love with the human - every hour yearning to be closer and closer to him...
soon the angel forgot about God or heaven and became forever entranced with the human man...
soon the angel forgot to fly - he fell - and then was soon born into a human body...
the human went on with his life: being so deeply touched by the angels love that when he died he was able to ascend up to heaven...
filled with love: he became angel himself....
a long time ago a demon was sent to watch over a human...
the demon became entranced by the human and instead of destroying his soul, the demon fell in love with the human...soon the demon lost his will to do evil and fell from the powers of darkness...
the demon was born into a human body...
the human upon dying had no bad deeds to his life since the demon never once tempted or harmed him:
the human was full of love and went to heaven and became an angel...
once a long time ago an angel was sent to watch over a human...but soon the angel feel in love...
he forgot about heaven and soon instead of becoming human he became a demon...under the influence of the powers of darkness....
one day the demon was told to go and find a certain human and destroy his soul...
when he came upon the human he saw that he was protected by an angel...
instantly the demon was healed and flew right up to heaven...
because his sins were washed in an angels love - he too became an angel...
this is the story of how we are born...
and live and go to heaven....
we rise and fall...and live on.
sometimes the demon and sometimes the angel...but always in love...
and always going to heaven...
LA Times - letter to the editor
Dear editor LA Times:
I was saddened to see and hear that the Los Angeles gay and lesbian
center is responsible for an ad campaign that reads: in print and on
billboards in Los Angeles -
"AIDS IS A GAY DISEASE..."
sadly this will give misguided Christian zealots and aggressive
homophobes the instance to "out act" - either verbally or with actual
violence on the greater gay population of Los Angeles...
many of which who are also positive for HIV, sick or living with AIDS...
and likewise also reinforces in much of the uneducated populace
that: AIDS is only to be worried about if your "Gay" which translates
to those in denial of their behavior(s) "oh well this doesn't apply
to me -- only gay guys get AIDS...." thus furthering the epidemic --
and likewise will also serve to put further social and sexual
pressure on the younger men - who the campaign is aimed at - who may
turn to drugs - alcohol or even unsafe sex to simply escape the pain
- stigma - or the internal message which all gay men get everyday --
"the unspoken message -- "if your gay your gonna get AIDS>>>"
"AIDS is preventable...." seems the logical and wiser choice....
or
"AIDS is a disease of behavior...."
Papering "gay" publications with the ad campaign would be one thing -
Posting the slogan on billboards is grossly irresponsible and
dangerous in my opinion...
both HIV and Aids are both preventable: having said that: likewise
also : so are heart attacks and heart disease, drunk driving,
unwanted teen pregnancy, STDs, cancer from cigarettes, air pollution,
divorce, active drug addiction, and the list goes on...
The ad campaign is a misguided attempt to break the spell of apathy
in the "gay community" I 'am guessing...As if the "gay community" is
still a seperate entity apart from the rest of society - that all
things are not connected nor effect each other in various political
or social ways --
or as if there are any simple answers to the varied social - sexual
psyches that we all pocess... and are trying to heal....
or as if the "gay community" had one or two clear and evident leaders
that have dragged their feet in this crisis...
and likewise as if the doctors and medical industries - hospitals -
nurses and drug companies have no vested interest
nor concern << pro or con >>
concerning HIV : its prevention or spread or even cure....
As if no hetero person ever lost a brother, mother, cousin, icon,
neighbor - father or friends to this disease...
as a gay man I' am saying -- shame on you LA gay and lesbians center
for not having a well thought out campaign -- to keep gay youth and
younger guys in their 20s HIV negative...
the ad campaign is about 20 years too late....
todays ad campaign should read: "its possible to stay HIV negative -
get the support to do so --"
or something to that effect....
As a gay man who has lived in Manhattan, NYC for 20 years....I can
tell you that all the people i know who are HIV positive - straight
and gay - would think this campaign is a vain wish and hopeless dream
that reinforces seperation - ignorance and fear around an already
painful - tradgic - layered and complicated modern issue....
"AIDS is a Gay Disease...." ???
I wish it were that simple.....
Dear LA Gay and Lesbian center LA -- please use your talents and
energies elsewhere...and remember -- shame - death and disease
effects everyone --
just like racism - ignorance - violence - pollution - war - poverty
and lies....
final comment: "were all connected -- AIDS is preventable...."
kirk kerber
Manhattan resident
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
dec 21 2012
the mayan claendar ends
dec 21 2012
here are a few ideas about the coming 2012 -- ponder them for yourself and see what "rings true."
old grid ideas -- pain suffering speration from the divine
be it big oil the drug companies or the cathloic church they are falling and tipping -- like dinosaurs -- they cant last -- the movement is conciousness -- and it cant be stopped now...
re: mass enlightment and palnetary shift -
theres nothing left to do basically but watch...
watch it unfold...
the hardcore transformations took place in the 70s and 80s...carried by a few - because of aids and the weather patterns -- the increase in cancer rates...political scandals and lies. the computeriztion of information --
all togehter - have had a culmlative effect...
the gov's of the world are not doing anything different than they were twenty or thirty years ago --
the world is different and the information comes from 1000s of sources not three news casters for two hours a night -- you get ideas and information from e mails and chat rooms -- and 500 cable channels where upon you intuit what is true and truth and you make that by intinct a part of your psyche and then naturally pass that onto others psychically whether you realize it or not and it continues -
they call it "mass ascension"
you now have a maturation of emotional IQ-
and spiritual IQ--
and a remembering...of the past and future --
think of health foods in the last ten years alone...
people dont want to be poisoned any more -- its all becoming obvious --
the old "grid" thinking of gender and race and judgments and religion are transforming and loosening...
things are becoming purer even in a toxic world...
keep the faith - it is happening -
yoga is everhwere.
mediation and spiritual practice is everyhere...
stay centered and watch...
it is happening --
dec 21 2012
here are a few ideas about the coming 2012 -- ponder them for yourself and see what "rings true."
old grid ideas -- pain suffering speration from the divine
be it big oil the drug companies or the cathloic church they are falling and tipping -- like dinosaurs -- they cant last -- the movement is conciousness -- and it cant be stopped now...
re: mass enlightment and palnetary shift -
theres nothing left to do basically but watch...
watch it unfold...
the hardcore transformations took place in the 70s and 80s...carried by a few - because of aids and the weather patterns -- the increase in cancer rates...political scandals and lies. the computeriztion of information --
all togehter - have had a culmlative effect...
the gov's of the world are not doing anything different than they were twenty or thirty years ago --
the world is different and the information comes from 1000s of sources not three news casters for two hours a night -- you get ideas and information from e mails and chat rooms -- and 500 cable channels where upon you intuit what is true and truth and you make that by intinct a part of your psyche and then naturally pass that onto others psychically whether you realize it or not and it continues -
they call it "mass ascension"
you now have a maturation of emotional IQ-
and spiritual IQ--
and a remembering...of the past and future --
think of health foods in the last ten years alone...
people dont want to be poisoned any more -- its all becoming obvious --
the old "grid" thinking of gender and race and judgments and religion are transforming and loosening...
things are becoming purer even in a toxic world...
keep the faith - it is happening -
yoga is everhwere.
mediation and spiritual practice is everyhere...
stay centered and watch...
it is happening --
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
psychic soap opera
spirit lover - dark entity
my home is an interesting potpourii (sp?)
of energies these days.
ghosts wafting from my sex addict past --- kiel - with the sub-human animal like humongous dick - floats in and out of my thoughts -- hehehe-
ah -- the names roll out of my psyche and around it all day :
jules - robert - some guy named robb - madeline - you - molly - davide from italy - francesco from italy -- michael with the angel tattos who moved to LA who i always think of as "Antione" because we had an affair for 2 years and never knew each others names -- yeah antoine -- or "angel guy"
a few weeks ago an old associate filmaker - "trick" - (thats slang for sex bud that you dont really care about) called me -- now hed been calling me for for the last 2 years -- and yes i just figured he was in line to become my next stalker -- since he liked to call me and not leave a message --
but i always knew he called due to caller ID--
once he left a message - about nine months ago saying that he had a strange sexual premonition about me -- (is there any other kind)??
I never returned the call --in fact --
I ignored all of his calls :although on certain nights - walking home alone i would look back and front for his stalking figure- perhaps sensing he was going to attack me by surprise-
__What can this guy possibly want -- ??
i would toss around this question in the nether world of post it notes glued to the back of my brain -- the file is labeled-- "probably not important enough to think about"
included in this file - of course is jule's weepy "I dont feel good- mantra" >>and one of these days i just might tell her that if you blow coke up your nose all night in the bathroom at the collins bar and then have some freaky S and M - Whoose afraid of virginia woolfe? (sex) drama every night that yes- of course -- jules my princess - the next day your apt to probably reply -- "I dont feel good...."<<<<<<<
but enough of her and her petty pedestrian truamas that probably never even happened anyway -
besides ive got my own petty insignificant gay drama - truamas to think about which when you really think about it : are not that important either --
my fears about Jules are of course that she is the mirror to my future and that I too will end up the insane "has been" on the fifth floor of some tenement walk up in nyc with 45 cats-- too many sad poems and tape recordings of roosters that I hear in the mornings but can not prove it --
this might not make sense to you but its based on an actual tenet that anyone who has ever lived in nyc knows or at some time knew from their building --just like the female homeless bag-lady who shouts "fuck off" to the sky and appears to be quite totally insane while pushing her bags around eighth avenue at 2am and then in another breath will begin reciting chaucer's canterberry tales- hitting the iambic pentanmeter perfectly -- then go back to screaming Fuck you -- to some wandering canine passing by and then as if it all made sense -ask you for a cigarette--
something like that -- ah -- you just have to see it in person to believe it...
In any event - this guy - anthony - who now goes by the name - "astro" which is the name that registers on the caller ID when he calls to leave no message -
astro - as he calls himself - now -- called me the other night about three weeks ago and didnt leave a message - again --
--
contact:
one evening resolved to not let the oppurtunity pass- astro calls and lights up the radio shack 19.95 plus tax caller ID--
immediately -- quicker than a lightning bolt from the eyes of zues I grab the plastic box and press- "redial last incoming"
astro answers---
" is that really you??
I was thinking about you - I was thinking about your big dick -- and how beautiful it is -- I want to worship your big dick -- i'am serious I was to organize a cult around worshipping your cock -- "
long pause --
I respond-
"ah astro -- why are you calling me ??
(my tone is accusatory and kinda mean and attacking)
long pause...
"I called you because i think - your in danger..."
"danger of what ?"
"theres an energy - in your apartment - and I truly think it is bad for you...i think you should consider leaving that space...go somehwere...else...get away from it..."
thoughts speed through my past...how many times i sensed or thought that very same thought...
the space is haunted.
the building is haunted...
with coke smoking ghosts of the late 80s past...
with the spirit of the guy who was stabbed in front of the building in the 60s..."the capeman" murders...
with drug dealers, and pros, with forgotton pain and dreams that no longer belong to anyone...with the hungry and desperate who invaded and permeated and resided here in hell's kitchen....yes it's true: New York city is full of ghosts...
"ah -- I don't know what to say...."
long pause.
back track over the last five years...
A road trip to consider leaving nyc...the stops along the way...
vegas
san francisco
LA
seattle
portland
sedona
I was seeking some new fresh, mystical kubla-khan, an unspoiled shangrila...a haven or coven of artists - something pure, some place where the people are not so hyped up - jacked up- drugged up, worn out, tired, hungry, angry or lonely...
i looked high.
i looked low.
all of the above places. not to mention a sleepy resort town about two hours above san fran, the russian river, all packed with tweakers, freaks, rage and confusion....
just how far do you have to run to get away from civilization without being in the middle of nowwhere?
A question: is civilization simply urban and suburban insanity??
so much and yet so little?
"ah I also wanted to talk to you about your cock...i think about it all the time - and i think there should be an altar somewhere where people could pray to it or something -- will you send me a picture of it ?"
"yes" i respond.
I've have driven across country six - maybe seven times...
each time trying to find some hidden clues to the place i visited.
could i lived here?
is there anywhere you can go where addiction and fear and money don't figure into the equation?
a place to live.
the better - more telling question is - of course -- are you ready to leave manhattan?
no. i guess not.
the black swirling ghost in my space...
"the entity -- ah spirit in your space is in love with you -- wants you to go to the "other side..." wants to hang out with you...
astro continues...
"so this is why you have been calling me ?"
"yes. i had to give you that message..."
his remarks and message are not totally random. in fact, they confirmed what i had been thinking for many years but could never form into a clear thought...
astro was right on the money.
this explains the strange comfort and panic that seems to permeate the walls here in this hells kitchen studio...
it explains the two near death experiences i've had here...wanting to stay -- wanting to go...
wanting to run. wanting to "get away..."
i've pondered this many times...in fact if the truth must be told:
i even know it's name: the spirit. his name is rusty...
i know he is around because the room gets like a cold spot near the corners, or sometimes a hot spot and the entire room becomes so hot i have to sleep with the windows open...
"rusty" has made it pretty clear on several occasions hed do anything for me...thinks i'am funny and cool...and gets his entertainment from hanging around...my space...
watching me have sex. eating. crying alone. watches me when i sleep...wondering what it would be like for us to be together on the same side...
yeah -- it's rusty...i know this.
rusty is not to be confused with my other - type "spirit lover" who ive gone to great lentghs to be with -- and always recognize in the eyes of the living...
i alays know when this other lover slips quietly into the body of one of my sex partners...the energy is always the same: kind - familair - loving and warm...
i imagine he and rusty have things to talk about on the other side but i'am not privy to these conversations but do actually sense the battle bewteen them both...
one lover protects me - the other wants me to die so we can be together....it's confusing and--
as if i don't have enough things to worry about in the material world --- an entire soap opera of rommace and tug of war is occuring in the spirit realm for my affections....
I'd like a good nights sleeep...theres a few times when i feel them both sitting on the edge of my bed...the three of us all together....
"ah ok I'll think about it..."
i knew after that phone call, astro would disappear.
he has.
most likely forming a cult devoted to my cock...
or atleast a picture of it...
I don't have the answer to my haunting...
i'am ready to move as soon as i can find a place where i think i can live...
i dunno...
universe...any suggestions?
my home is an interesting potpourii (sp?)
of energies these days.
ghosts wafting from my sex addict past --- kiel - with the sub-human animal like humongous dick - floats in and out of my thoughts -- hehehe-
ah -- the names roll out of my psyche and around it all day :
jules - robert - some guy named robb - madeline - you - molly - davide from italy - francesco from italy -- michael with the angel tattos who moved to LA who i always think of as "Antione" because we had an affair for 2 years and never knew each others names -- yeah antoine -- or "angel guy"
a few weeks ago an old associate filmaker - "trick" - (thats slang for sex bud that you dont really care about) called me -- now hed been calling me for for the last 2 years -- and yes i just figured he was in line to become my next stalker -- since he liked to call me and not leave a message --
but i always knew he called due to caller ID--
once he left a message - about nine months ago saying that he had a strange sexual premonition about me -- (is there any other kind)??
I never returned the call --in fact --
I ignored all of his calls :although on certain nights - walking home alone i would look back and front for his stalking figure- perhaps sensing he was going to attack me by surprise-
__What can this guy possibly want -- ??
i would toss around this question in the nether world of post it notes glued to the back of my brain -- the file is labeled-- "probably not important enough to think about"
included in this file - of course is jule's weepy "I dont feel good- mantra" >>and one of these days i just might tell her that if you blow coke up your nose all night in the bathroom at the collins bar and then have some freaky S and M - Whoose afraid of virginia woolfe? (sex) drama every night that yes- of course -- jules my princess - the next day your apt to probably reply -- "I dont feel good...."<<<<<<<
but enough of her and her petty pedestrian truamas that probably never even happened anyway -
besides ive got my own petty insignificant gay drama - truamas to think about which when you really think about it : are not that important either --
my fears about Jules are of course that she is the mirror to my future and that I too will end up the insane "has been" on the fifth floor of some tenement walk up in nyc with 45 cats-- too many sad poems and tape recordings of roosters that I hear in the mornings but can not prove it --
this might not make sense to you but its based on an actual tenet that anyone who has ever lived in nyc knows or at some time knew from their building --just like the female homeless bag-lady who shouts "fuck off" to the sky and appears to be quite totally insane while pushing her bags around eighth avenue at 2am and then in another breath will begin reciting chaucer's canterberry tales- hitting the iambic pentanmeter perfectly -- then go back to screaming Fuck you -- to some wandering canine passing by and then as if it all made sense -ask you for a cigarette--
something like that -- ah -- you just have to see it in person to believe it...
In any event - this guy - anthony - who now goes by the name - "astro" which is the name that registers on the caller ID when he calls to leave no message -
astro - as he calls himself - now -- called me the other night about three weeks ago and didnt leave a message - again --
--
contact:
one evening resolved to not let the oppurtunity pass- astro calls and lights up the radio shack 19.95 plus tax caller ID--
immediately -- quicker than a lightning bolt from the eyes of zues I grab the plastic box and press- "redial last incoming"
astro answers---
" is that really you??
I was thinking about you - I was thinking about your big dick -- and how beautiful it is -- I want to worship your big dick -- i'am serious I was to organize a cult around worshipping your cock -- "
long pause --
I respond-
"ah astro -- why are you calling me ??
(my tone is accusatory and kinda mean and attacking)
long pause...
"I called you because i think - your in danger..."
"danger of what ?"
"theres an energy - in your apartment - and I truly think it is bad for you...i think you should consider leaving that space...go somehwere...else...get away from it..."
thoughts speed through my past...how many times i sensed or thought that very same thought...
the space is haunted.
the building is haunted...
with coke smoking ghosts of the late 80s past...
with the spirit of the guy who was stabbed in front of the building in the 60s..."the capeman" murders...
with drug dealers, and pros, with forgotton pain and dreams that no longer belong to anyone...with the hungry and desperate who invaded and permeated and resided here in hell's kitchen....yes it's true: New York city is full of ghosts...
"ah -- I don't know what to say...."
long pause.
back track over the last five years...
A road trip to consider leaving nyc...the stops along the way...
vegas
san francisco
LA
seattle
portland
sedona
I was seeking some new fresh, mystical kubla-khan, an unspoiled shangrila...a haven or coven of artists - something pure, some place where the people are not so hyped up - jacked up- drugged up, worn out, tired, hungry, angry or lonely...
i looked high.
i looked low.
all of the above places. not to mention a sleepy resort town about two hours above san fran, the russian river, all packed with tweakers, freaks, rage and confusion....
just how far do you have to run to get away from civilization without being in the middle of nowwhere?
A question: is civilization simply urban and suburban insanity??
so much and yet so little?
"ah I also wanted to talk to you about your cock...i think about it all the time - and i think there should be an altar somewhere where people could pray to it or something -- will you send me a picture of it ?"
"yes" i respond.
I've have driven across country six - maybe seven times...
each time trying to find some hidden clues to the place i visited.
could i lived here?
is there anywhere you can go where addiction and fear and money don't figure into the equation?
a place to live.
the better - more telling question is - of course -- are you ready to leave manhattan?
no. i guess not.
the black swirling ghost in my space...
"the entity -- ah spirit in your space is in love with you -- wants you to go to the "other side..." wants to hang out with you...
astro continues...
"so this is why you have been calling me ?"
"yes. i had to give you that message..."
his remarks and message are not totally random. in fact, they confirmed what i had been thinking for many years but could never form into a clear thought...
astro was right on the money.
this explains the strange comfort and panic that seems to permeate the walls here in this hells kitchen studio...
it explains the two near death experiences i've had here...wanting to stay -- wanting to go...
wanting to run. wanting to "get away..."
i've pondered this many times...in fact if the truth must be told:
i even know it's name: the spirit. his name is rusty...
i know he is around because the room gets like a cold spot near the corners, or sometimes a hot spot and the entire room becomes so hot i have to sleep with the windows open...
"rusty" has made it pretty clear on several occasions hed do anything for me...thinks i'am funny and cool...and gets his entertainment from hanging around...my space...
watching me have sex. eating. crying alone. watches me when i sleep...wondering what it would be like for us to be together on the same side...
yeah -- it's rusty...i know this.
rusty is not to be confused with my other - type "spirit lover" who ive gone to great lentghs to be with -- and always recognize in the eyes of the living...
i alays know when this other lover slips quietly into the body of one of my sex partners...the energy is always the same: kind - familair - loving and warm...
i imagine he and rusty have things to talk about on the other side but i'am not privy to these conversations but do actually sense the battle bewteen them both...
one lover protects me - the other wants me to die so we can be together....it's confusing and--
as if i don't have enough things to worry about in the material world --- an entire soap opera of rommace and tug of war is occuring in the spirit realm for my affections....
I'd like a good nights sleeep...theres a few times when i feel them both sitting on the edge of my bed...the three of us all together....
"ah ok I'll think about it..."
i knew after that phone call, astro would disappear.
he has.
most likely forming a cult devoted to my cock...
or atleast a picture of it...
I don't have the answer to my haunting...
i'am ready to move as soon as i can find a place where i think i can live...
i dunno...
universe...any suggestions?
Monday, September 18, 2006
dark angel - bryan
bryan and mark
thanksgiving
i wake up in a whirlpool...
i try to find another day
i try to find a way to make my self better
i go down in whirlpool...
about to lose conciousness...
above me - on top of me
a 23 year old beads his sweat onto my face...
his upper torso is covered with tats...
the arms -- meeting his cliched fists...are likewise
inked...
inked in that east villiage - "HR Giger" screaming demon - hot punk toughie kinda way...
i try to close my legs, he's too strong - too big
on top of me
at once -my arms are held tight behind my head by one of his strong adereniline fueled angry irish boy hands - the other administers another blow to my chest - and then he descends...his chin to mine...
a long slow kiss as he forces his hips into mine and then moves quickly to lift me up...and hits the target area...
his ringing phallus - head finds my hole...and then he pushes me down again...another kiss. deep and so passionate, i'am not sure if I'am being raped - or made love to or simply beaten into bleeding and lust...it's all seeping into a blur...
but i feel the heat at my center and the head of his cock entering, sideways, then he pulls back, straightens his hips again - slaps me hard and re-applies his hot gun to the target - to my ass...it opens...and then another long slow kiss and he heaves into me...
"you wanted it bitch..."
my eyes glaze over
bryan...
i press my head to the center of his chest and turn my head to the side and hold it tight against the center - i can hear his heartbeat...
the hair of his pecs moist...highlighting the peirced flaming heart tattoo...the sword descends from the throat down to just below his solar plexus...inscribed on each side: "love - hate..."
and at the bottom: "make your choice..."
the tighness of my ass is gone...
the feeling of terror gone...
i sense the movements...filter through the air - about to leave my body...
i can see everything from above...the poetry of fear, the cursed need of the bodies...my eyes full of light...
his ass so fine and white and powerful...tensing and precise...sliding his entire self into my hole...the cock igniting the raging burn...covered with sweat...the beads from his face sting my eyes...
my arms wrapped tight around his back....both vessals open - it was just an hour ago we were on the street--
his cock was hard and then out of his pants -- three tourists - young girls watched briefly -- and then quickly moved down the block --
"who fucking cares??" he grabs the scruff of my neck and says -- "lets go...your place..."
angels above - whispering...
enveloped in a golden ball of light....
a current of love...i turn to sense the presence...
i let go -
angels with me watching --
the whirlpool opens...
a portal appears...
the room disappears...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
i'am twelve years old.
I'am in an empty field.
a lot full of dirt mounds and dying tall grass...
the wind rustles through the reeds...and two young beautiful boys run and scream through a path...
one of the boys is older, handsome, around 16 with soft brown eyes...a strong youthful torso....legs running after the other one...hands opened to feel the reeds as i run along to a clearing....but my cousin - mark is fast behind, he tackles me: hard and i fall and hit my chin on a rock...
I'am on my stomache. mark's hands hold fast to the sides of my jeans...and my pants edge down slightly to expose my ass...i try to crawl away but this only pulls my pants down more...until they are almost to my knees...
i gather my strentgh and struggle free...and run while trying to pull up my pants...a few yards more and i'll be in the clearing...and will have won the race...
i lay there in the circle. on my back. a trickle of blood on my lip...breathing fast. pulling up my pants - looking up to the sun...moving across a secret sky...a ray of light catches my eyes and for a moment blinds me...but mark comes up - kneels next to me and with one hand presses it onto my chest and holds me down...
he looks upon me...and smiles. out of breathe. i laugh. he laughs....
"you won this time..."
then his belt is undone... and his young hard dick grazes my cheek and then it is in my mouth...and i'am sucking it -- almost by instinct but i remember - it wasn't something planned, it just happened...
"oy yeah -- thats nice...dirk...yeah, don't tell...it's our secret..."
i sensed something new happening in me - my own cock begins to swell...and aches...and mark presses his hands to my crotch...and says: "Beautiful..."
mark was my first boyfriend. i guess you could say that...
then we both pause...sounds from the outer rim of the clearing...
two other boys are watching...
mark stands up. fixes his member back into his pants and without warning grabs one of the kids by his t-shirt and lifts him up into the air...high above him and then throws a hard clean punch into his stomache and the small frame flies back and hits the dirt....
the other boy runs away...
"don't you ever fucking come back here or I'll kill you..."
mark yells and smashes the kids face into the dirt --
"hear me ?"
"yes..." the boy cries and then runs away.
the lot is quiet.
mark picks me up.
"c'mon - lets go.." we walk slowly away from the clearin back into the reeds and onto the trail...he pats my ass.
"you go ahead - I'll be there in a minute..."
I look back.
mark has fallen to his knees...
pants unbuttoned - he looks down -- stroking his dick fast...his face contorts...he lets out a small cry...and tilts his head back....his body spasms...
"ah - ah ...ahhhh..."
he disappears...
i go back to my aunts house and watch tv...
mark comes in about 15 minutes later like nothing happened...
we watch tv the rest of the afternoon...
later that night i had my first orgasm.
mark kissed me - sucked my cock and made me suck his...
he bit my dick hard enough to make me cry. he fingered my hole....while he jacked me off --
until i came...
he pushed me down - as my balls squirted out a young fresh load of jizz --
he covered my head with a pillow to muffle the yell...
I smell the sex of our bodies, fresh - sharp, powerful...
he was a man. smelled like a man -
to this day - in comparison - i now know mark had one of the biggest dicks i've ever seen...
i fall a sleep next to him exhausted....at peace...
warm.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I'am standing in the shower. bryan holds my cheek up to the water. theres a welt on my face. i can feel blood draining into my eye, mingled with the warm water...
i'am limp in his arms...
he holds me upright. as if some sacred light were bathing us...
I sense that bryan - like me is also in some unspeakable pyschic pain -- and i wonder who i'am to him --
the steam and pain - the haze from my eyes...bryan, mark, bryan, he kisses me long and soft...as if he wanted to breathe life back into me --looks deep into my gaze and there is silence - the water rushing is the only sound...
he carries me to the bed and throwns me face down and then begins to fuck me again...
I'am relaxed. this time he shoots a hot load up my ass...
and i collapse...
hours later. silent.
bryan is clothed. i kneel before him....
hold his boots to each foot and slip them on...
i lace up the laces and tie them...
i gaze to meet his eyes...we both nod.
"see ya..." he mumbles and then the room is empty.
the dark angel has left...
the rest of the city sits down and prays...
they are wrapped in the spirit - a bounty of food and gratitude...kitchens all over the country are warm with the scents of cranberry, sage and turkey....
i lay on my back. wondering if i should go to the hospital...
i make my way to the refridgerator. open the door...
take a swig from a bottle of ice water. it hits the back of my throat...
i hear
"happy thanksgiving..."
from the apartment above me...
my legs buckle. i fall to the floor...
i awoke hours later -- the ice from the freezer pooled onto the floor...
thanksgiving
i wake up in a whirlpool...
i try to find another day
i try to find a way to make my self better
i go down in whirlpool...
about to lose conciousness...
above me - on top of me
a 23 year old beads his sweat onto my face...
his upper torso is covered with tats...
the arms -- meeting his cliched fists...are likewise
inked...
inked in that east villiage - "HR Giger" screaming demon - hot punk toughie kinda way...
i try to close my legs, he's too strong - too big
on top of me
at once -my arms are held tight behind my head by one of his strong adereniline fueled angry irish boy hands - the other administers another blow to my chest - and then he descends...his chin to mine...
a long slow kiss as he forces his hips into mine and then moves quickly to lift me up...and hits the target area...
his ringing phallus - head finds my hole...and then he pushes me down again...another kiss. deep and so passionate, i'am not sure if I'am being raped - or made love to or simply beaten into bleeding and lust...it's all seeping into a blur...
but i feel the heat at my center and the head of his cock entering, sideways, then he pulls back, straightens his hips again - slaps me hard and re-applies his hot gun to the target - to my ass...it opens...and then another long slow kiss and he heaves into me...
"you wanted it bitch..."
my eyes glaze over
bryan...
i press my head to the center of his chest and turn my head to the side and hold it tight against the center - i can hear his heartbeat...
the hair of his pecs moist...highlighting the peirced flaming heart tattoo...the sword descends from the throat down to just below his solar plexus...inscribed on each side: "love - hate..."
and at the bottom: "make your choice..."
the tighness of my ass is gone...
the feeling of terror gone...
i sense the movements...filter through the air - about to leave my body...
i can see everything from above...the poetry of fear, the cursed need of the bodies...my eyes full of light...
his ass so fine and white and powerful...tensing and precise...sliding his entire self into my hole...the cock igniting the raging burn...covered with sweat...the beads from his face sting my eyes...
my arms wrapped tight around his back....both vessals open - it was just an hour ago we were on the street--
his cock was hard and then out of his pants -- three tourists - young girls watched briefly -- and then quickly moved down the block --
"who fucking cares??" he grabs the scruff of my neck and says -- "lets go...your place..."
angels above - whispering...
enveloped in a golden ball of light....
a current of love...i turn to sense the presence...
i let go -
angels with me watching --
the whirlpool opens...
a portal appears...
the room disappears...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
i'am twelve years old.
I'am in an empty field.
a lot full of dirt mounds and dying tall grass...
the wind rustles through the reeds...and two young beautiful boys run and scream through a path...
one of the boys is older, handsome, around 16 with soft brown eyes...a strong youthful torso....legs running after the other one...hands opened to feel the reeds as i run along to a clearing....but my cousin - mark is fast behind, he tackles me: hard and i fall and hit my chin on a rock...
I'am on my stomache. mark's hands hold fast to the sides of my jeans...and my pants edge down slightly to expose my ass...i try to crawl away but this only pulls my pants down more...until they are almost to my knees...
i gather my strentgh and struggle free...and run while trying to pull up my pants...a few yards more and i'll be in the clearing...and will have won the race...
i lay there in the circle. on my back. a trickle of blood on my lip...breathing fast. pulling up my pants - looking up to the sun...moving across a secret sky...a ray of light catches my eyes and for a moment blinds me...but mark comes up - kneels next to me and with one hand presses it onto my chest and holds me down...
he looks upon me...and smiles. out of breathe. i laugh. he laughs....
"you won this time..."
then his belt is undone... and his young hard dick grazes my cheek and then it is in my mouth...and i'am sucking it -- almost by instinct but i remember - it wasn't something planned, it just happened...
"oy yeah -- thats nice...dirk...yeah, don't tell...it's our secret..."
i sensed something new happening in me - my own cock begins to swell...and aches...and mark presses his hands to my crotch...and says: "Beautiful..."
mark was my first boyfriend. i guess you could say that...
then we both pause...sounds from the outer rim of the clearing...
two other boys are watching...
mark stands up. fixes his member back into his pants and without warning grabs one of the kids by his t-shirt and lifts him up into the air...high above him and then throws a hard clean punch into his stomache and the small frame flies back and hits the dirt....
the other boy runs away...
"don't you ever fucking come back here or I'll kill you..."
mark yells and smashes the kids face into the dirt --
"hear me ?"
"yes..." the boy cries and then runs away.
the lot is quiet.
mark picks me up.
"c'mon - lets go.." we walk slowly away from the clearin back into the reeds and onto the trail...he pats my ass.
"you go ahead - I'll be there in a minute..."
I look back.
mark has fallen to his knees...
pants unbuttoned - he looks down -- stroking his dick fast...his face contorts...he lets out a small cry...and tilts his head back....his body spasms...
"ah - ah ...ahhhh..."
he disappears...
i go back to my aunts house and watch tv...
mark comes in about 15 minutes later like nothing happened...
we watch tv the rest of the afternoon...
later that night i had my first orgasm.
mark kissed me - sucked my cock and made me suck his...
he bit my dick hard enough to make me cry. he fingered my hole....while he jacked me off --
until i came...
he pushed me down - as my balls squirted out a young fresh load of jizz --
he covered my head with a pillow to muffle the yell...
I smell the sex of our bodies, fresh - sharp, powerful...
he was a man. smelled like a man -
to this day - in comparison - i now know mark had one of the biggest dicks i've ever seen...
i fall a sleep next to him exhausted....at peace...
warm.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I'am standing in the shower. bryan holds my cheek up to the water. theres a welt on my face. i can feel blood draining into my eye, mingled with the warm water...
i'am limp in his arms...
he holds me upright. as if some sacred light were bathing us...
I sense that bryan - like me is also in some unspeakable pyschic pain -- and i wonder who i'am to him --
the steam and pain - the haze from my eyes...bryan, mark, bryan, he kisses me long and soft...as if he wanted to breathe life back into me --looks deep into my gaze and there is silence - the water rushing is the only sound...
he carries me to the bed and throwns me face down and then begins to fuck me again...
I'am relaxed. this time he shoots a hot load up my ass...
and i collapse...
hours later. silent.
bryan is clothed. i kneel before him....
hold his boots to each foot and slip them on...
i lace up the laces and tie them...
i gaze to meet his eyes...we both nod.
"see ya..." he mumbles and then the room is empty.
the dark angel has left...
the rest of the city sits down and prays...
they are wrapped in the spirit - a bounty of food and gratitude...kitchens all over the country are warm with the scents of cranberry, sage and turkey....
i lay on my back. wondering if i should go to the hospital...
i make my way to the refridgerator. open the door...
take a swig from a bottle of ice water. it hits the back of my throat...
i hear
"happy thanksgiving..."
from the apartment above me...
my legs buckle. i fall to the floor...
i awoke hours later -- the ice from the freezer pooled onto the floor...
the blood pools...
a dream.
one night. i fall into the slumber of regret. remorse and grief...into a land.
i'am wandering. i have no memory.
i have no future.
the "now" is grey. miles from life. walking endlessly through a netherworld of wants and hopes: which are vague and never form into something solid.
everything is: fleeting, dissipating and vanishing...
above me a grey souless sky rumbles...
below: a desert of land rises up. cracked - arid and devoid of water...
there is no thought to inspire me.
there is no hunger. there is no thirst.
there is no idea to push or repel me...
i'am contained within a hallway that goes on forever.
i can not seem to find something to want...
there is no cieling above - simply two walls - the desert below...the grey above...
no beggining and no end...
i wait...
for a sign. for a word. for something to move.
i'am becoming the dust below me...
the blood pools...
the breath stops...
there is no sound.
there is nothing good.
there is nothing bad.
there is no color.
my eyes fade to white...
static.
repeat.
i wait.
the eternity of waiting...
in the hallway of the desert of the netherworld...
i wait...
then everything dissolves.
i'am in a room. the room is niether big or small.
there is nothing in the room but a chair and a tv screen.
i sit down.
tv commercials play across the screen.
i want things and can not have them...
i see things but can not touch them...
i'am disconnected.
there is nothing real. no nature. no life.
there are products...lots of products and fake smiles...
i'am numb.
i'am full of wanting things i don't need.
another eternity.
every commercial looks the same.
i nod off into sleep...into a trance...
the room disappears...
a big door.
i stand there forever.
the door opens...
first i hear a faint music...
the clatter of dishes. the din of laughter...
i sense warmth and wish to move toward it...
suddenly appearing is a grand dinning hall...
three large dusty chandeliers glowing above a magnificnent table. faded and peeling wallpaper coats the walls.
candelight adds a strange glow.
cobwebs are everywhere: on plates of food...
on the windows. in the corners, on the ghosts waltzing around...
the music grows louder.
it is glorious...
there is wine. goblets of water and drink.
outside lightning and thunder strikes and lights up the table and dance floor...
laughter. fun. drunkeness.
a party.
ghosts are everywhere.
in the psychic landscape of my life the ghosts are having a grand time.
they are dining on the buffet of my past.
skeletons in every corner waiting...dressed in tuxedos.
they smile.
dinner is served...
it is truly magnificent...
they are all having a good time.
they take no notice of me what so ever...
there is an empty chair, so i sit down...
a skeleton appears behind me and pulls a fine linen napkin off the table and places it on my lap...
"your order sir?" the skeleton requests...
i roll my eyes. "let me see...I'd like to have some nice wine and some beef steak..."
"very good." the skeleton says and waves his hand...
my hearts desire appears. the perfect cuts of beef before me, bathed in juice, with breads and vegetables...wonderful delicious desserts...
i try to take the food into my mouth. i eat but can not taste.
the skeleton nods and leaves...
more skeletons.
moving about the table. bringing things. taking away dishes...pouring wine. the way they move is delightful...
lady ghosts are dancing and flirting...they are dressed in turn of the century clothing. amazing gowns and hats...make up and hair-dos. the men are all in suits and tuxeudos...drinking brandy: they seem like true gentlemen.
they are toasting one another...
the feast of feasts...
the grandest party. everything is beautiful...
the ghosts shimmer and glow.
the skeletons are happy.
i raise my hand - three skeletons appear nodding and awaiting my request...
i look around and upon further examination i realize....the dinner guests - the ghosts are all people i knew. they are all people that have died...people i used to know...
laughing - smiling - eating - drinking - smoking - dancing...
my heart leaps open at the thought of being able to see them all - perhaps talk to them...
a music conductor taps his baton upon a podium. instructing the orchestra to play a waltz...
there is a stillness.
and then with precision and grace - every one dances...
lightning cracks again in the sky outside...
the room fills with a flash of blue....
there is laughter...and dancing...
and then -
i awake.
i'am in my bed.
i'am in my body.
sitting next to me is kiel.
>>>>>>>>>>
i awake.
i bring my hands to my eyes. to rub away the dream. i pull back the curtain. dalylight is just breaking. i look at the clock...5-30am...another day...
i place my feet on the floor.
like every morning i open my eyes. focus on the cieling above. nothing has changed. for me the day is not a new beggining but simply a continuation of regrets and pain...
the old yesterdays fold together and pin my mind to time and history. to the "matter" of my body.
my history. my body. my pain.
my baggage...
a continuation of forgotten hopes and dreams...weighting me down further...adding more residue.
the body moves. caffiene. nicotine...smoke.
inhale. pain. regret.
slowing down.
i pace to the coffee maker...
the same space. the same body. the same fears.
there is no comfort for me: it irritates me that everything is the same...
everything grows a little more grey...it seems a perfect fall day has appeared and grows a golden light rising to meet the scattering fog of the morning.
kiel....
one night. i fall into the slumber of regret. remorse and grief...into a land.
i'am wandering. i have no memory.
i have no future.
the "now" is grey. miles from life. walking endlessly through a netherworld of wants and hopes: which are vague and never form into something solid.
everything is: fleeting, dissipating and vanishing...
above me a grey souless sky rumbles...
below: a desert of land rises up. cracked - arid and devoid of water...
there is no thought to inspire me.
there is no hunger. there is no thirst.
there is no idea to push or repel me...
i'am contained within a hallway that goes on forever.
i can not seem to find something to want...
there is no cieling above - simply two walls - the desert below...the grey above...
no beggining and no end...
i wait...
for a sign. for a word. for something to move.
i'am becoming the dust below me...
the blood pools...
the breath stops...
there is no sound.
there is nothing good.
there is nothing bad.
there is no color.
my eyes fade to white...
static.
repeat.
i wait.
the eternity of waiting...
in the hallway of the desert of the netherworld...
i wait...
then everything dissolves.
i'am in a room. the room is niether big or small.
there is nothing in the room but a chair and a tv screen.
i sit down.
tv commercials play across the screen.
i want things and can not have them...
i see things but can not touch them...
i'am disconnected.
there is nothing real. no nature. no life.
there are products...lots of products and fake smiles...
i'am numb.
i'am full of wanting things i don't need.
another eternity.
every commercial looks the same.
i nod off into sleep...into a trance...
the room disappears...
a big door.
i stand there forever.
the door opens...
first i hear a faint music...
the clatter of dishes. the din of laughter...
i sense warmth and wish to move toward it...
suddenly appearing is a grand dinning hall...
three large dusty chandeliers glowing above a magnificnent table. faded and peeling wallpaper coats the walls.
candelight adds a strange glow.
cobwebs are everywhere: on plates of food...
on the windows. in the corners, on the ghosts waltzing around...
the music grows louder.
it is glorious...
there is wine. goblets of water and drink.
outside lightning and thunder strikes and lights up the table and dance floor...
laughter. fun. drunkeness.
a party.
ghosts are everywhere.
in the psychic landscape of my life the ghosts are having a grand time.
they are dining on the buffet of my past.
skeletons in every corner waiting...dressed in tuxedos.
they smile.
dinner is served...
it is truly magnificent...
they are all having a good time.
they take no notice of me what so ever...
there is an empty chair, so i sit down...
a skeleton appears behind me and pulls a fine linen napkin off the table and places it on my lap...
"your order sir?" the skeleton requests...
i roll my eyes. "let me see...I'd like to have some nice wine and some beef steak..."
"very good." the skeleton says and waves his hand...
my hearts desire appears. the perfect cuts of beef before me, bathed in juice, with breads and vegetables...wonderful delicious desserts...
i try to take the food into my mouth. i eat but can not taste.
the skeleton nods and leaves...
more skeletons.
moving about the table. bringing things. taking away dishes...pouring wine. the way they move is delightful...
lady ghosts are dancing and flirting...they are dressed in turn of the century clothing. amazing gowns and hats...make up and hair-dos. the men are all in suits and tuxeudos...drinking brandy: they seem like true gentlemen.
they are toasting one another...
the feast of feasts...
the grandest party. everything is beautiful...
the ghosts shimmer and glow.
the skeletons are happy.
i raise my hand - three skeletons appear nodding and awaiting my request...
i look around and upon further examination i realize....the dinner guests - the ghosts are all people i knew. they are all people that have died...people i used to know...
laughing - smiling - eating - drinking - smoking - dancing...
my heart leaps open at the thought of being able to see them all - perhaps talk to them...
a music conductor taps his baton upon a podium. instructing the orchestra to play a waltz...
there is a stillness.
and then with precision and grace - every one dances...
lightning cracks again in the sky outside...
the room fills with a flash of blue....
there is laughter...and dancing...
and then -
i awake.
i'am in my bed.
i'am in my body.
sitting next to me is kiel.
>>>>>>>>>>
i awake.
i bring my hands to my eyes. to rub away the dream. i pull back the curtain. dalylight is just breaking. i look at the clock...5-30am...another day...
i place my feet on the floor.
like every morning i open my eyes. focus on the cieling above. nothing has changed. for me the day is not a new beggining but simply a continuation of regrets and pain...
the old yesterdays fold together and pin my mind to time and history. to the "matter" of my body.
my history. my body. my pain.
my baggage...
a continuation of forgotten hopes and dreams...weighting me down further...adding more residue.
the body moves. caffiene. nicotine...smoke.
inhale. pain. regret.
slowing down.
i pace to the coffee maker...
the same space. the same body. the same fears.
there is no comfort for me: it irritates me that everything is the same...
everything grows a little more grey...it seems a perfect fall day has appeared and grows a golden light rising to meet the scattering fog of the morning.
kiel....
the zoo
june fifth - 06
weather - cool mid 60s
light rains
heat - moderate
itch - low
the twenty thousand dollar hospital bill and counting...
>>> i think ive been back from florida four days...
I'am not sure. when you don't work, you lose your concepts of time. you sleep when your tired. you eat when your hungry. youve got no where special to be most of the time.
the "re-entry" into manhattan was rough. it always is. it's always difficult to come back to a small space. the bills, the phone calls unanswered. the life you left. the sex energy permeating the space, roaming around stale and trapped within the walls...
the ghosts in the cieling and the skeletons under the bed...
welcome home.
the corners of the building soaked full of urine when this building was a giant crack den: a smell that never seems to lift. the first floor "sprayed" by the "super" who has been continually - "almost drunk" for the last 17 years...and frankly either thinks no one knows or he just doesn't care...
his door always slightly ajar, three large screen tvs blar newscasts or cartoons...there is a smell of cooking emmanating from the space but nothing that ever smells like youd want to eat it...
the despair that reeks from this apartment is truly mind-boggling. my apartment sits right above his and years ago i could hear he and his wife fighting. oftentimes she would come upstairs to try and get me involved. pans were thrown. screaming. tears. on and on...
better than a spainish soap opera...
i tried to explain in broken spainsh to her that her husband was an alcoholic and needed help. "he needs a doctor..."
"your husbands an alcoholic -- me no help - you -- "
she got the message and stopped climbing the stairs.
she happened to peer inside the door one particulair sunday of gay pride weekend years ago to see a whole lot of fags listening to disco and davey lowenstein in drag camping it up....
i smiled.
"ah - its our ah - yeah...pride..." my voice trailed off...
right above her head: the apartment above her were hells kitchen fags carrying on...
she never came back.
she was always real polite after that on the street.
welcome home...
all your favorite memories are here.
all the tricks and boyfriends and heartaches and losses...
etched into the wood of the floor slats...
i'am dangerously close to becoming the "old guy" in apartment five. the old fag whoose been here since the 80s..."
18 years of staying sober. all within three tiny rooms...
a sanctuary on mot days and at other times a private hell...
apartment five...re-entry.
it took a few days but now i'am back.
it's time to deal with the bills...
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
today i decided to deal with the 20,000$ something hospital bill that seems to grow everytime i get another bill...
another bill for an x-ray, another test, is there a rolling tab?
do i add them all up? twenty four bills in all. some saying that the hospital will settle for only 703.00 $ dollars??
other bills are billed from different offices throughout the city. it's confusing. i try to call medicaid. they give me this excuse and that. give me a list of numbers to call. offices to visit. well send you the papers....blah, blah, blah...
i decide to go down to the closest office on 34th street.
the address is 330 west 34th but when i get there the actual address is 340 west 34th. i step inside the door. the whole aura screams of institutional-government insanity...the cheapo peeling paint. the handwritten signs everywhere. the gaggle of people asking questions. all in some frenzy of panic or despair. many standing in line twisting this way and that. yelling at their children who are sitting on the floor. talking to themselves. looking at papers or trying to fill them out.
there are six windows with lines filing out the door.
i explain that i'am trying to "backdate" the eligibility of my coverage to include the hospital stay...
i expalin this to a security guard near the door.
"ok line four..." someone says to me...
just like in 1992 when i had my breakdown and was applying for public assistance, for rent and food stamps, it was the same insanity, the same, waiting in the wrong line. the wrong office. the wrong person...
back in 1992, paper was everywhere. the offices didn't run exclusively on computers. files were piled everywhere. you just prayed yours never got lost and it did many times....
"youll have to come back next week...in three weeks, tomorrow."
today thirty fourth street flashes me back...to "the zoo."
back to 1992. fourteenth street. the hieght of the aids panic. my first breakdown...it all seems the same...
same people. same broken down panic and desperation. same confusion and alcoholism...it's everywhere; in the way the system works. in the way you get paid. in the random chaos of a buerocracy spilling toward you...abusive, bloated and neglectful all at once.
if our religion is hard work then the sin is to be out of work.
your punishment is having to ask for help. i paid into this system. paid my taxes and don't complain about that, everything seems like a big mess of humanity, begging. fighting.
it's a free for all.
i wait in line four all of two minutes and decide to leave.
I remember - the "zoo." on 14th street from 1992. thats what the welfare office was known as on the street.
"oh yeah man - " the zoo..." "right upstairs..."
it sure was....
today's medicaid office is a smaller version of "the zoo."
>>>let me tell you about the 14th street welfare office...
back then: even to this day its one of the highlights of my ny experience...
not to be missed -- of course was my case worker.
miss cat-lady.
it took six weeks to get "miss cat-lady" as my case worker.
i wanted someone else. they said it would be another six weeks if i wanted to be re-assigned.
ok. miss cat lady it is.
miss cat-lady had smeared orange lip-stick that was always cracked on her lips. she wore a blonde buffuant wig that was sprinkled with black cat hair that occasionally would fall off onto the pile of papers she was looking through. she would simply wave the hair away and then pat the papers with an open palm and then look up through the fallen bangs of her wig.
i never knew what cat ladies eyes looked like. she wore three layers of clothes at all times and the final layer touching her skin was a nightgown.
i'd sit there with my arms closed off. looking at her like - you are joking...aren't you?
she wasn't.
she always had a greasy brown paper bag on her desk filled with half-eaten food. and while she looked over the papers shed take something out of the bag and put it near her mouth...never quite getting it inside.
crumbs - juice - remnants falling onto the papers below -
she would push the crumbs or juice away and then pat the papers in my file with an open palm, then peer at me through her wig. which had a life of its own.
she was really more like a talking wig. and every so often crumbs of food would fall sonewhere in the vicinity of her mouth or shed speak while trying to swallow. powdered sugar blowing toward me...
"ok this is your file..." id hear her mumble and then she would bob her head on occassion. she had to be heavily medicated by my guess.
she mumbled everything and then got angry when i asked her to repeat the instructions...
shed abstract and talk about other cases she had and that she was behind and always seemed confused and scared....
I'am sure a few of those guys in the zoo either told her off or threatened to hurt her. she jumped when i began to get angry...
almost fliching from the memories of being abused by someone and this would throw her back and shed pause and fade like she was gone...and look down for a minute and mumble some more. she was really one step above a homeless person...
i was amazed. truly. but thats not the half of it.
it is here that i'am instructed to inform you if youve never lived in manhattan that every apartment rental building built before elevators has a "cat-lady" for a tenant...
>>>the making of a "cat-lady."
many years ago she was an "actress."
she met a man. they drank together and had some fun, perhaps got married. he began slapping her around. she kicked him out. they got a divorce.
she got a few cats...
she stopped going out...
add thirty years and well...there ya go...cats, cat urine, cat food and cat calls. the smell alone - thats how you know.
the cat lady in our building was "alex" god rest her soul...
and of course she choose me to help her carry her groceries up the stairs. like the fool that i was and the newest tennant who didn't know any better: i agreed.
i figured maybe shed have some stories to tell about the theater in the 70s, some interesting tales of her lovers. what the neighboorhod used to be like or tenants that had come and gone...
"she's CRAZY--" the guy across the hall told me - "oh god - when you see her close the door..."
sure enough...
once she knew she knew my apartment number she knocked on my door every day for months...telling me there was
"a rooster" in the back yard and that no one will believe her...
the rooster it seemed crowed at dawn.
it took her three months to get it together to buy a tape recorder. a small black hand held model which she turned on and pushed into my open door one day - mumbling -
"see i told you..."
"ok i hear it..." i didn't know what else to say.
"well, so what do you want me to do?" i ask.
"i don't know..." she cries, deeply disturbed and scurries away talking to herself...
trust me.
the worst mistake you can make is showing someone like this some understanding...trust me. all hours of the day that wretched knock on the door.
the cat-lady lying in wait to spring her next drama...
the tradgedy is that you have to watch her and people like her deteriorate. one can only imagine the ghosts that awake her each night. the cats swirling around. meowing. even they don't want to be around the cat-lady...
"what ever happened to baby jane...?"
she's upstairs in apartment 17...
now that were on the subject, i could go on about the creepy meth smoking "shut in" next door who had his drugs delivered nightly by a band of thugs who also serviced him with rough sex and beatings...thuds and groans seeped through the walls for years...the meth smoke billowing through the shared wall and the floor boards. drug addicts always seem to console themselves by affirming that: "i never hurt anybody but myself..." wrong.
the meth aura pervading into the halls escaping; seeping, into the walls...i got addicted to it, to him smoking it.
finally one morning, after three years that was it, i had enough: i beat the walls with my fists:
"your the devil! your a fucking devil and i know what your doing. FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU---IVE HAD IT!"
two hours later a moving van pulled up to the building. they carted off some furniture. he got into the van and left forever...
and then theres -
the guy in the apartment behind me.
ive prayed for him: for years...he has the specific problem of not being able to throw anything away. its truly heartbreaking. although i like him and he never bothers me so i prayed for him everytime i passed his door...
"dear god - please let this man find some peace..."
one afternoon the super had to fx the door to his apartment. i walk by, the super waves me over and points inside...it was like a scene from the film "Seven." i couldn't believe it. a lone piss stained mattress thrown on top of junk. newspapers for carpet and the bathroom hadn't been cleaned in over twenty years...it was truly hard to believe...
i just started praying for the guy...
and months later: amen. he began throwing garbage away. first leaving it in the hall next to his door. a glimmer of hope. then boxes and bags and more bags...
miracles do happen and i was glad one happened for him.
no one deserves to live like that...
no judgements. but its called "alcoholism..."
the lucky ones make it to detox. the rest remain trapped inside their own insanity of self abuse and pain...
watching all of this happen is enough to drive a man to drink.
but i haven't.
i don't want to.
i don't want to become like that...
another sad story behind a closed door...
no.
i offer my pain - fear and dis-ease up to god...
please keep me sane...
>>>>>>
back to the zoo -
back to cat-lady number two, my caseworker and the fourteenth street welfare office.
the main office was on the second floor ascending to a small platform with a pay phone. the rise of the stairs was very steep: wide enough to accomodate five across...
as you entered the building you could see streetwalkers smoking at the top of the stairs. people fighting over the phone. someone had graffitied "the ZOOOO....here" with an arrow pointing upwards toward the landing...
if you could get passed the pros and drug dealers youd turn the corner and then what a sight...
the ceiling was partially knocked out in the main waiting room from water dammage. pigeons had somehow crawled into and nested in ceiling and occassionally without warning would fly down to pick some pork rinds or cheetos on the floor...and then fly away back into the ceiling.
on any given day there would be women surrounded by children crying. people sleeping. bagmen with bags. ghetto queens in fur coats with a pimp mobile parked downstairs.
an heiress crying and reading vanity fair...
newspapers strewn about the floor. the smell of garbage. empty styrofoam plates with dried sauce pushed into the corners...people pacing about. a few street fighter types. a couple of pregnant woman sat patiently in the back...
there was a red line of tape on the floor which said: "do not cross this line until called..."
when you were called by a number repeated over a loud speaker with cracked speakers then you crossed the line into a double row of cubicles - institutional grey felt - and waited again. the cubicles were numbered.
to the right of the cubicles were a row of glass enclosed offices that were lit and never occupied...
every so often a fight would break out in the main waiting room and some tired looking white guy would try to stop it shake his head a few times and then go back to his desk...
everyone was acting out. to put it mildly.
the "zoo."
for three years i went to the zoo a few times a week. then someone on the street - this skinny tall black dude who would take tips for directing traffic so to speak asked me what i was trying to get - "food stamps..."
"ok man - heres the deal - the food stamp office is on 17th street, on the fifth floor."
he gives me the address. somehow i believe him. know hes telling the truth. he extends his open hand palm up - like -
"pay up for the info...bro..."
i give him five dollars.
"17th street - fifth floor ask for jesse..."
sure enough. i go to the address. go inside. the office is calm, clean and quiet. i ask to see jesse. jesse tells me to take a seat and hands me a one page form to fill out.
eighty percent of the people in the waiting area are asian women. everyone from the clients to the staff are peaceful and intelligent. my papers are processed in about an hour...
unbelievable.
back to the zoo...
because i was applying for public assistance under medical reasons the welfare office policy was that you had to be examined by one of their doctors at a different location...
another office, another zoo. this one crammed with the injured, the infirmed, the fakers, the con-artists, the truly dammaged...
the offfice was a series of smaller rooms that snaked around in a semi-circle. each succeeding room had a purpose, a desk and then you were filtered off to the appropriate doctors room where they read your paperwork and looked you over...
the "back-problem" doctor was a lumbering line backer type of man with white hair sweating in a white coat...
"turn around." he states flatly. "pull down your pants..."
i do and then stand there motionless waiting.
he yanks down my boxers and then throws something on the floor at the same time...
i simply stand there.
i don't take "the bait."
the bait is to see if your faking; that is to see if youll turn around quickly after being violated. or
you bend over to pick up what he threw down then surely you are faking your injury...
i knew what the deal was and i didn't flinch. just stood there with my butt exposed and then turned to sit slowly on the chair next to the examination table and pull up my undies and pants. he eyes my cock and i cover it with my hand.
the doc eyes me with suspicion through squinted eyes. i meet his eyes as if to say: "did you like the view??"
then i wrinkled my nose a little as if to say -
"haa - iam smarter than you fuckhead..."
he could have called me on it but the fact that he scanned my cock for as long as he did made him the guilty one.
"can i go?"
the doc waves his hand like "ok give me the papers to sign..."
he signs them.
"you can go."
>>>>>>>>
after that i don't want to go back to the zoo and decide to look for work off the books...but nothing materializes. i wait a month. i still need my back rent paid.
i'am five months in arrears as they say. i apply for something called: "a one shot deal." they pay your back rent - no questions asked once. this begins a whole new process of paper work and questions etc, etc.
in the meantime my landlord has posted the sheriffs yellow sticker on my door. the large 8x10 decale states:
"all property in this space will be put into the street in three days. EVICTION."
the date was december 23.
merry christmas.
i take it day by day trying to get the wherewithall to go back to the zoo and the cat-lady. but i don't want to go...
christmas comes and goes. i had a can of campbells soup: chicken noodle, for dinner that night and played "go fish."
with davey lowenstein.
I wait. nothing happens.
then a few weeks later i get a phone call.
its the landlord. "mr. goode - you need to pay your rent..."
the landlord, mr markowitz, breathes heavily into the reciever. i can tell hes lying down. he doesn't sound like himself;
"mr. markowitz are you ok?" i inquire.
"i had a heart-attack..." long pause.
my eyes widen.
"are you in the hospital?"
"yes." he answers.
"please re-mit your arrears to the office..."
"ok - mr. markowitz - i will. i'am getting a check in the next week."
click.
he hangs up.
i return to the zoo.
cat-lady is not there. i wait twenty minutes or so.
i sit there in cubicle number seven. a blonde woman in her fourties appears. "dirk..." she says softly. looks at me with kindness. hands me a piece of paper. "third floor." and walks away.
god only knows whats waiting on the "third floor."
the third floor.
i open a dark stained door - the only door there. the door has frosted glass framed into the upper portion of the door.
it creaks open. there is a perfect stillness. an entire floor with wooden shades drawn over the windows appears.
the green floor tiles are spotless. there is a row of bank like teller windows from the fourties with bars resting on a wooden partition. behind the partition is a row of desks: metal grey office desks. the entire floor is quiet and still.
the lights are off. in the distance is a door that leads to a lit hallway. i wait here. silently.
a figure walks through the door - a woman - with a check in her hand...she passes me the check under the last teller window. "there ya go."
she nods and then walks back through the door and she is gone.
a sigh of relief. the rent gets paid. my case is closed.
i never return.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
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