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Not the Right Time…

November 23, 2014

I cannot for the life of me figure out whether or not I even like him anymore. The term self-sabotage comes to mind.


It has been over a year. This guy and I have been talking sporadically due, in part, to his hectic work schedule (or possible to his already being in a relationship of which I know nothing). What’s the other part? It’s gotta be that good ole, indecisive “do I want a relationship or not” mentality. I know. I created that mentality.




Let me make one thing perfectly clear. We have not had sex yet. Well, we haven’t gone all the way. You know, cause in the gay world blow jobs are like handshakes. “Good to meet you. See you later.” I actually had one guy mouth “thank you” (while he was on the phone) followed by a quick wave on his way out the door, but that was last Tuesday so that’s neither here nor there.

not the right time

Back to the guy at hand, the one. So, “what happened to that one guy?” my friend Becca asks. I share, “well it’s been about six weeks and I was abiding by my rule. I’ll text ya once or twice and call once. If I don’t hear from ya I figure you have moved on to the next John.” My name is not John nor am I a prostitute. Otherwise, I would be rich.


“That sucks. We all really liked him.” Becca was right. It did suck. He was… is a nice guy… from what I know. He is certainly not a one not stand in any sense of the word. We have had multiple dates. He has met a handful of my friends and I have spent the night once. Plus, I still have a light jacket of his from last Fall. This is what I get from him last night.


What up”

The infamous booty call text message. “What’s up… sup… yo” They all mean the same thing. Let’s have sex right now. Can you magically appear in front of me and be totally in the mood for some lovin’? In this instance the answer is no mainly because this particular text message arrived at 4:28 a.m. this morning. No one in the world is awake during that time (Central Time Zone). Maybe some people gotta get up at 4:30 for work but not 4:28.


I could not really wrap my head around that because even the bar crawlers should be asleep right around then… and he is not a bar crawler though he had to have been drunk to text me at that time. What did I reply?

“You woke me up, that’s ‘what up'”

This was followed by some short swear words after I realized that I was going to be so tired in the morning as my perfected 1.5 hour increment sleeping cycle had been broken. I am so tired of typing this. Beauty rest is more than beauty rest, it’s leg rest, arm rest, eyeball rest. Uggg, my eyeballs. What did he reply?

“Ha ok then go back to bed ?”


What did I reply? Nothing.


I was so pissed, am pissed and will be pissed for about ten more minutes. First of all, I do not care if you are hitting me up for a booty call. Sometimes it’s very cute to me. However, I do very much care if you are not respecting the thing called sleep. I will throw things at you.


Look for my follow up YouTube video about this late night, booty call business.


There’s just too many guys in the mix of late and not one of them has made a stance to really attempt to claim me, not that they could cause I guess in one sense every guy is very similar. We want what we can’t have, often take for granted the things that we do have and feel bitter and contempt when someone is honest enough to say “I am not into it.” … Yawn. I think that about covers all I can say about it for now… at least until the third cup of coffee.


Golly he’s such a good guy, smart, motivated, handsome and more. Still, 4:28, its not the right time.


Thanks Danny.

Breaking the Silence

November 11, 2014

It has been too long. During this magical day I found myself revisiting.

“Damn, I have to do something around the house. I can’t just waste two days off back to back, playing Bioshock,” is what I would have uttered to myself had I been able to speak during the last 48 to 72 hours. Around the time the seasons change something always goes into shock, remission, chaos or just plain goes bad. This time ’round, as Chicago tries to decide whether it is Spring, Fall or Winter I sound more like a witch than ever.

It started on Saturday night, a noticeable loss. Sometimes we just have to hide before we emerge.

breaking the silence

“Why do you sound like a girl?” some precious little child asked during a typical birthday party at RobotCity. “Because I lost my voice,” I said to her sounding terribly frightening. Later on she adds, “He sounds like a girl but he’s a boy,” to the room at large (just in case they were confused, as some often are it seems).

The next day I am unable to make even the most pitiful attempts at speech, instead I rest up and meet up with one of the most beautiful young men I have met to date. Though, we weren’t meeting to date. That was my problem.

This young man and I had been texting back and forth for some time and he undoubtedly convinced me to come over while his roommate was out. Do the math.

I disclosed very early on that I might not be in performance mode as I had been drinking whiskey (hottie totties) and plus I was a bit nervous. After a touch a text drama I new that I needed to meet this guy tonight. We had blown one another off on too many occasions and it kind of felt like a now or never thing.

Let me just say, I am totally comfortable being naked. As we both lay there he asks what he can do to “put [me] at ease.” “I am at ease,” I mutter in the most gutteral way. He then asks what he can do? I told him, “just being here is enough.” I liked looking at him. I liked kissing him. I liked the way his skin felt beneath my fingers as I traced his body. Yet, it’s gone, like they are all gone.

“Well do you think you’ll get your groove back by then?” he asks after telling me that he will be moving to Aurora on December 1st. The story of my life used to involve meeting a beautiful man whereupon we split ways six weeks later, clockwork. I guess now even that has sped up.

I confessed to him. As he pondered why I wasn’t on top of him, full throttle I let him know that my mind just landed on thoughts such as why had we not met before this bed. Probably the last I will see of him. Though, I hope not. He really is a sweet, beautiful young mind with a kind soul.

Oh, I must have glanced through three hundred photos today looking for just the right ones. I changed up an old frame from portrait style to landscape but still wanted it to remind me of those beautiful faces from college life, Jeanette, Aliza, Richard, Amanda, Alice, Jenny, Denise and so many more.

You know that feeling of wandering? I imagine we all get it from time to time whether we realize the feeling or not. Today on this 11/11/14 a different guy came to pick me up. We went back to his place and watched A Most Wanted Man. Queen of the Damned was on in the background earlier while I was fixing up that frame. Odd line up of movies in my mind.

Oh yeah, and some dick left another queer quote on my YouTube channel today questioning my gender. I refuse to type “laugh out loud,” but it was kind of funny considering a little girl basically said the same thing in her own vocabulary. Crazy.

My date was a sweetheart and dropped me off at the door. Guess that’s the last time I’ll ever see him. Well, it should be. He’s getting too close already and I don’t want him to be. My mind is on someone else, a couple of someone elses actually.

I walk back into my place. I take off my shoes, slowly sliding in socks past my refreshed frame.

I do not claim to be a religious person anymore. I have been done with that for some time as I think most if not all should be, but when I awaken out of the flux for just a few moments I feel blessed. I am reminded of a message I created earlier in life, I am a religion.

In this silence I have been reminded the power of my words, the power of all of our words. For those who have been in doubt, lost, in depression, feeling worthless as if nothing you have done will amount to anything… reframe those thoughts.

My friendtor (once mentor now dear, distant friend) once said to me after I released one of those darkly radiant sob stories on him, “Hey… you are enough.” He meant that just by my being me, I was enough in this world. That is still so hauntingly comforting to me even this night.

I am happy I am getting my voice back.

“You are enough.”

This year, these days, this night find yourself revisiting. Find yourself breaking the silence.

Rapper Kid in Jail

May 23, 2013
Shame we don't teach cursive in schools anymore.

Shame we don’t teach cursive in schools anymore.

Often times I hesitate before writing the first word. I filter my own right of creativity and speech. That’s the most prominent topic in my mind after encountering a jarring article about a young man named Cameron D’ Ambrosio, a YouTube rapper who goes by Cammy Dee.

Cammy posted some of his lyrics on facebook. What happened next? This 18 year old boy found himself in prison. Why? A portion of his song makes reference to the recent, unfortunate Boston marathon bombing. The song also contains expletives and words condemning the government, O’bama and the like. The media, as they often do, took the lyrics out of context for further hype and to coat the matter in a more negative light. To see the lyrics in plain view and hear more about the argument visit Fight for the Future.

After looking at the charges maybe we could all use a timeless review of the Bill of Rights, specifically the 1st amendment.

I know my writing is usually funny or leans toward a spiritual stream of consciousness if you will, but I’ve been hard pressed to write lately. This news called me to arms to not only express my concern for this matter but also to exercise my right to voice my thoughts, freely and without fear of persecution. This young man’s words were, regardless of any interpretation, a creative outlet for a guy who likes rap music. How many violent words can be heard throughout the many great voices of the genre? Why this one young man?

This argument against Cameron D’ Ambrosio is one fueled by ignorance. This young man is locked up, faces charges of communicating a threat of terrorism and a potential 20 years behind bars. Not only was there no mention of a target in Cameron’s performance, there was no evidence to support that Cameron is an actual threat. This is a case of police gusto and stupidity.

In short, all charges should be dropped. It is best summed up by a random comment on Cameron’s YouTube page:

OMG at the top of my voice. I cant believe the government is going after this guy. The only think this guy is guilty of is be a bad raper and beat maker.

Pardon the guy’s typos but you get the point. This kid should not be in jail. Bail is set at 1,000,000 dollars. Hey Usher, go bail him out.


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