Wednesday, December 05, 2007
During my morning shave, I stood there looking at the man in the mirror and I realized there was a part of him/me that I no longer could see. For five full minutes, I stood . . . shaving cream drying on my face, hand just holding the razor . . . face to face, I stared. The mirrored image was mine, each line, each wrinkle, etched by time I recognized, but something was amiss, something was different. A part of this man had vanished, a part of me, gone. No longer whole, I stood looking at an empty shell of the man that once was. I was afraid, I had hidden him for so long, shadowed him in secrecy, denied him for so long, that he had given up. His/mine/our hopes, our dreams swallowed up by the darkness of time. Standing there, staring into my own misty eyes, I wonder if our paths will ever cross again. . .
Sunday, December 02, 2007
There are no words within the covers of the dictionary that could describe what it meant to me reading the comments each of you left on the "Crossroads" post. It only makes me realize that this journey is only made more wonderful by having friends, such as you. Hugs and Kisses: Michael, Dave, Steven, Derek, and Jon.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
In 2007 33.2 million [30.6 – 36.1 million] people were estimated to be living with HIV.
With more than 6,800 new infections and over 5,700 deaths each day due to AIDS we must expand our efforts in order to significantly reduce the impact of AIDS worldwide.”
*data source: UNAIDS 2007 AIDS Epidemic Upd
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
The laughter, the smiles, the hugs were contagious, spreading like a virus, a good disease passing from one to another as each family member or friend arrived yesterday.
Where's my hug? Come here, I haven't seen you in so long.
Haven't seen me? We had lunch yesterday, we talked on the phone last night!
That was yesterday.
Outstretched arms reach and pull you in for yet another squeeze.
That's my family. Seldom a time can I recall not giving or receiving a hug as we see one another and always before leaving there is a hug or a handshake and the utter of those three little words . . . I love you. We don't think about it, it is something we do, it is something we have always done.
So why did I think about it or notice it more so, yesterday? My mind was racing as if a mule's condom bag had burst releasing a rush of its contents directly into my brain. I couldn't help it, I couldn't shut it down. The questions played over and over on my mind's movie screen.
If you knew? Would the hugs still be there? Would I ever hear those three little words . . . I love you? If you really knew?
If you knew? Would the hugs still be there? Would I ever hear those three little words . . .I love you? If you really knew?
Over and over . . . it played!
Today, I am exhausted.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
I heard the door open but this is a normal occurrence at work, people are constantly coming and going, so I didn't bother to look and see who had walked up behind me until a hand fell to rest on my shoulder. When I shrivelled around in the chair I came eyeball to crotch with a co-worker. A young guy I had never given a second glance but somehow he had transformed himself into a hot stud. He had the day off, had been working around the house and only stopped by to get something he needed from his locker. Tattered, ripped jeans barely kept his crotch full of man meat covered but the worn out fabric did nothing to hide his muscled thighs covered in thick black hair and here I was face level away. Hot Damn was the first thing that came to mind and I'm still thanking the Gods, I had the piece of mind not to have said it out loud. It was hard, so very hard, but I managed to control myself, at least the outer self, but inside . . . the inner self was melting with lust if the truth had to be told. Thank goodness it was a slow day, my concentration wasn't worth a damn for the rest of day.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Back in 2005, I sat down in front of a blank computer screen and gave birth. Like a newborn baby it came into the world kicking and screaming. Struggling to stay inside, warm, safe and secure, it fought against the labor pains. Bring me my damn epidural now, I shouted. Wait! What was I thinking, was I crazy! Hell, if I had one of those, I wouldn't be able to feel my Dick! The computer screen stared back at me, like a doctor's face peering up from between outstretched legs, it waited. Push. . . push harder, damnit, I said, Push! I wait, I stare at the screen, another contraction comes, I PUSH, it starts to crown, I push harder, out pops some words, a sentence, a thought, it is out, I have given birth. Sucking in its first breath of air, my blog is born. I sit there staring at the words on the screen wondering what in the Hell was I going to do with it now? I hit publish . . . This is from an earlier post describing the day my blog was born, but truthfully it was the day I was born, at least the man I should have been. I had to push hard against the rusty hinges of this closet door, it wasn't an easy task, an easy decision. The doorstop that keeps it open has slipped a few times along the way almost trapping me back into the confines of this darkened closet but the door is still open and it is because of the friends I have met along this journey of self-discovery. It truly is a wonderful world we live in. Always remember, a comment, an email, being someones friend can turn an ordinary day into a special day. Thank-you for my special day. Hugs and Kisses, Stephen
Monday, October 22, 2007
How was your opening day of deer season?
I think perhaps this post needs a little explaining. My passion happens to be Deer hunting. My date, in mention, was with an 8 point buck, not a man. As much as I would have loved for it to have been about a possible encounter with a hunk of male flesh, I probably would have been the one not showing up, nothing interferes with my opening day of deer season.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Sorry for the lack of posting but before I knew what had happened my demons escaped the chains of their confinement and like a thief in the night, they robbed me of any desire, any hope, any feeling. I was alive, there was life, the rise and fall of my chest as I gasped for air told me this, but there was nothing inside. A void, an empty cavity surrounded by the shell of the man, the man that once was. I looked, I searched, but as far has my eyes could see, there was nothing but blackness. I would be lying to you, I would be lying to myself, if I said I never thought about giving up. Many times I thought about taking the easy way out. Many times I thought about closing the door to forever remain in the darkness of this closet. Many times I thought about slowly slipping away, slowly disappearing back into the anonymity from whence I came. Would any one know I was gone? Would any one care? My demons taunted me with their whispers to hit the delete button. My finger rested on the key many times but I could not press, I just could not. Something, someone would not allow it. I stumbled, I bled from the jagged rocks, hand over hand, I clawed my way back from the Bowels of Hell. Beaten, battered, I emerge once again, I refuse to give up. . . I refuse to shut the door.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Like a nasty rumor too good to keep to ones self from mouth to ear it spread like a virus infecting each person it came into contact with.
Lock up your children,their coming to town. Their to camp on the outskirts of town, down by the river, they'll be. Keep your valuables close at hand,lock your doors, bar your windows, their coming to town. Down by the river, they'll be.
The virus spread.
My heart skipped a beat, maybe two when it came my time to be infected and I heard "they" were coming to town and "they" were to camp on the outskirts of town. Down by the river, I heard, they'll be. I wasn't afraid of losing a child, I wasn't afraid of being robbed in the dead of night, something far greater caused the hairs on my neck to stand up, and it was this something far greater that I was afraid of. The hands of the clock took their time ticking off the minutes, I waited. I wish I could say patiently I waited, but it was agonizingly painful, father waiting on his firstborn painful. But I waited, I had to know.
Black as a witches cauldron was the night, no moon, no stars, the darkest night I had ever seen as I made my way to the outskirts of town, down to the river, where they were supposed to be. Now too small an area, my heart pounded the walls of my chest in anticipation, scared to find out, scared not to find out. I had to know and this was my chance, perhaps, my only chance. I would have brought someone with me,if it had been possible but this was something I had to do alone. The only light of the camp flickered in the night keeping the arms of darkness at bay as shadows, blackened silhouettes, danced to the music. A stranger stepped from the darkness into the light of the camp, the music, the dance stopped, I stood there, I waited. Without a word, the oldest, not without pain, stood and walked toward me. The music, the dance began again as her gnarled twisted fingers took mine and led me away.
I have looked into the Gypsy woman's crystal ball and there was nothing. I thought there would have been more. I had prayed with all there was inside for more, but once the swirling smoke cleared there was nothing but a glass ball sitting on a table.
Acceptance can be such an evil word . . . she whispers.
Not fully open, not completely closed, always peering out into the world from within. A life, slightly ajar. A dream just out of reach.
Acceptance can be such an evil word. . .she whispers.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
With pen in hand, I stare at the blank page, the empty lines, but there is nothing but darkness. Hidden in the void the words are there, they hunger for release, for freedom, but they cannot find their way out. The promise of a new life, a chance to live, tempts them from the light shining from underneath the door. Hostages held, bound, tied, the words struggle to come together. They know in numbers there is strength, in numbers words become thoughts, in numbers words are stronger than the sticks glued together to form the door that holds them captive. In numbers words become sentences, the lines no longer blank. In numbers words becomes ideas . . . dear diary, can you keep a secret?
Friday, August 31, 2007
From the start, the very beginning, a mist surrounded the truth of who I was, of what I was. Hidden in the folds of shadows, I traveled down a road searching, thinking, and yes, perhaps fooling myself into believing happiness, my happiness, truth, my truth was only a bend in the road ahead. The clarity of my vision nothing but a lie, me, nothing but a fool. A conclusion, a realization that has taken me a lifetime in admitting is painful, I bleed, the blood I shed are the tears of clouded eyes. I have lived a lifetime surrounded by the fog, surrounded by the gray and I fear it will never lift . . . I fear too much water has flowed under the bridge . . . I fear I have waited too long . . . I fear I will never see the colors of my life as it should have been.
Friday, August 24, 2007
In the beginning, they said it would take time, things would get better, would get easier, life must go on, they said. Don't cry they would say, you're a man, a man must be strong, be tough, suck it up, they said. God knows, I tried, but this was a battle I knew I was not going to win. No matter how hard I tried, I could not prevent the water inside from welling up. Higher and higher it rose, the dams of my eyelids were not strong enough, not high enough to contain it within. My cheeks felt the wetness of my tears, as they flowed. I cried. I stood in a room full of people and it didn't matter. I cried and damn it, I was a man.
That was how I felt when a very good friend died, a few years back. After the tears dried up, the well, that was my soul was empty. For weeks, for months, a zombie without feeling, without emotion, I went about the daily grind of what was expected, what was needed, running on auto-pilot.
And now, for days, that feeling of overwhelming emptiness has haunted my ever waking moment and I don't know why. Don't cry, you're a man, a man must be tough, be strong, suck it up, I say. God knows, I am trying but it is a battle I'm afraid I have lost again. Angrily I wipe the wetness from my cheek, but this time I don't know why . . .
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
The sun rose in the eastern sky like it had done the day before and the day before that one, having completed its job for this morning, this day. As rays of light flickered on the walls like winged fairies dancing in the morning light, the night gave way. Having failed at another attempt, Death along with the darkness and all its shadows disappeared, slowly fading away as my eyes opened.
If this had been any other, both feet would have hit the floor before the sleep had cleared the eye, but not today. Alive, awake, but motionless as a corpse, I laid there. I had no appointments, no commitments, I had no reason to spring forth from the warmth of the bed that cradled my body. I was on vacation.
Outside, the mountain laurels rustled in the blowing breeze, the morning air still crisp, still clean. The mountain stream, its waters as cold as the ice cubes in a tall glass of sweet southern tea, flowed downstream. Over boulders, over branches of fallen trees the waters rushed, its power pounding the rocks smooth in its haste, its hurry to reach a destination not yet seen. As the Sirens of old beckoned Odysseus, the beauty outside calls to me, with all its charm, its allure, it tries to draw me away.
But it will fail. I'm already in paradise.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
What was I thinking when I made the offer to work, not only my shift but take on the responsibility of two other colleagues as well. I must have been out of my mind. Some days I had my doubts, I second guessed myself, I wondered if I had taken on a task greater than my strength, greater than my endurance. Had I bitten off more than I could chew? Day after day, nothing but work, endless days turned into weeks, but it is over. Dragging, limping, licking my wounds, I endured, I survived.
When I did have a few minutes to myself, I read the comments you left, the emails you sent. They were gentle hands soothing my tired body, they were a Gods send. Hopefully, soon I will be by to visit with each of you, and find the time to answer your emails. Hugs and Kisses . . .
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
When the door opened, I did not look up, my eyes were transfixed on the book that laid before me, concentrating on the words of the text. I was spell bound, lost in their meaning, lost in my comprehension, unaware of your presence until I heard you speak. The words escaped your lips, in a whisper, barely audible, but none the less loud enough for me to hear them as you introduced yourself to the lady behind the counter. Your voice was the magic it took to break the spell that had been cast on me. No longer a prisoner to the text, my eyes lifted from the page, freed to search the room, freed to find the voice that had broken their chains. Did I stare too much, perhaps too long? Did you have that familiar feeling that someone was watching you, was this the cause, the reason our eyes met. Could you tell, did you know even then . . .
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Friday, June 15, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Friday, June 08, 2007
Seeking the truth, I present not to you, but to myself a blank canvas.
This time I will be the painter.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Will the waves of the storm forever keep the reach of my life guard an arm's length away?
Saturday, May 26, 2007
I am doomed I tell you, doomed. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, go directly to jail, doomed.
The day started off just like any other day, another sunny day, no rain in sight. Rain? I haven't seen the rain or felt its wetness upon my face for so long, I've almost forgotten what those wonderful drops from heaven are. What I wouldn't give to see the dark gray storm clouds rolling in the Southern sky, what I wouldn't give to see them burst open and spill upon this dry parched earth their tears. Sorry, forgive me. I forgot what I was doing.
Let's see, I remember now, no rain in sight, I was sitting on the deck soaking in the freshness of a new day, checking my emails. I scanned the few I had received and yes, there it was, another one from the special friend. I opened it first, the eyes read the words, his words. . . waiting on a response was the last words my eyes saw, the last words that entered and floated around inside my mind. The heart fluttered, the hands may have trembled a bit as the fingers typed back a response. Where and when? The wonders of the Internet, almost instantly the email alert came back.
Today. . . this afternoon . . .2 pm sound OK with you? I will be waiting for you. No problem, I replied, I will meet you there. After all, I thought to myself, nothing is going to happen, just a chance to finally meet this mystery man I had been talking to for some weeks now. A chance to meet, a chance to talk, and if nothing else, a chance to make a new friend.
We met, we talked, he suggested we go to a more secluded place, a more private place, a place he knew, a place I'm sure he had been before. I admit, I saw the red flag waving in the breeze but I was still intrigued, the logical reasoning of my sane mind, replaced with the lust filled expanding appendage being held captive within my well worn jeans. I know, go ahead. Call me a slut! Call me what you will! It doesn't matter, I am doomed anyway I tell you, doomed.
Things happened, things were done, the taste of his lips still linger, the touch of his roaming hands, I remember . . . but I must not think of these things, I must forget.
"Why did you not tell me this before?" I heard myself asking.
Oh, My God, what have I done? I am doomed, doomed to spend eternity, my soul lost to the bowels of Hell!
Wait . . . maybe all is not lost! Maybe, just maybe, could it be possible? Could this man be also my redeemer!
Bless me Father, for I have sinned!
Monday, May 21, 2007
He lures me with objects of desire:
Like a moth I am drawn to his candle, his words, his flame.
Why am I finding it so hard to believe, to trust. Why am I beginning to hear the alarm bells ringing? Has my eyes read something between the lines that my heart refuses to see? Am I being too cautious, have I gotten too comfortable with the way things are that I will not allow myself to accept new possibilities, see the horizons beyond these closet walls? I wonder . . .
Monday, May 14, 2007
Words are not necessary, lying in your arms is all I need.
Listening to you breathe, feeling your breathe against my skin is all I need.
The warmth of your body replaces the chill I feel inside, all my troubles, my problems melt away.
The exploring of your hands over my body is wonderful, but you know me so well. Today . . . now . . . they just hold me. You know your presence is enough, it is all I need.
Today, you are not my lover, today you are my friend.
It is enough, it is all I need. . .
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
When did it creep inside me. . . could I not have felt it slowly worming its way in . . . how did I not know? It was clever, I give it that, laying dormant, patiently waiting for its time to pounce, all the while knowing it would gain more and more strength the longer it waited, gathering more strength the longer "I" waited. It bided its time, lying low, remaining in the shadows the way a sniper waits just for the right moment to pull the trigger. His finger resting on the trigger, concentrating, sure of his skill, sure of his target, he (it) gently squeezes the trigger, a shot rings out, its piercing sound echoing in the stillness of the air. A thump, an instant of pain felt, a wetness of red flows . . .I'm bleeding.
I wonder. . .
Has my time come and gone, is my well dry, barren of its life sustaining water. When did I allow, this thief of dreams . . . this thief of hope to creep inside and rob me of my tomorrows. I refuse to believe there is nothing, but the bucket comes back empty. I thirst. . .
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
This is part of his latest email, read it, give me some feedback, please.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Work has not been only a killer to my body, wrecked havoc with my soul, but it has captured and held hostage all my free time these last few days. It does not mean I have not thought about each of you, it does not mean I have not missed each of you, it does not mean my Prince Charming rode in on his white horse and carried me away to live happily ever after. It just means my tail is dragging the floor! Hugs and Kisses
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
I've been thinking. Hell, I've been thinking for a long time. Time for what, you ask? Well, I think it is time for me to open the door, crack the window,
explore the possibilities, while I still have possibilities to explore. To what extend you ask? Who knows?
Certainly not I, but I think I will test the waters once again. Condemn my soul to hell, if you must, I am strong, I can take it.
Friday, April 13, 2007
I have not given up, I know you are out there, you must be, I will not allow myself to think, believe otherwise. If I did, I could not bare it, I could not survive it. I hold fast to the faith that one day you will come. Don't worry, the gift that awaits you has been kept safe from all others, it belongs to you and you alone. It has been guarded, protected and without any and all abandon, I will place into your hand, the gift no one else can ever have. To you and only you, I give my heart.
Monday, April 09, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Is it time?
In the beginning, there was nothing.
Surrounded with darkness, void of any life, a blank canvas longed to live.
Believing, keeping the faith, it patiently waited, knowing its creator would eventually come.
When all others held onto nothing but doubt, it believed.
The eyes of this canvas searched the darkness day after day, until the day came, a small but undeniable flicker of light broke through the stillness.
First one flicker, then another, the light became brighter and brighter, the canvas was no longer blank. Words, thoughts, desires, hopes filled the pages that once was barren of life.
Words had given it a heartbeat, words from its creator had given it breath, words from its creator had given it life. It rejoiced from the love and warmth from its creator, the same way a hard cock welcomes the love and warmth of a lover's mouth. The blank canvas was his to do as he wished.
You, my creator, my lover, came to me sometimes in the early morning, sometimes in the brightness of the midday, there were even times when you came to me in the dead of night, I always welcomed the touch of the keyboard, knowing you were there. Your breath was my breath, your heartbeat my heartbeat.
But. . .
I have been told by the lack of visitors, I have been told by the lack of comments, that something is happening. I cannot allow myself to believe what I fear the most. The thoughts beat at the door of my weakening heartbeat, that perhaps I will soon be no longer. Days pass and there is nothing. Days pass, your touch, cannot be felt, your words do not come. There is nothing but the darkness from which I came. I am nothing without you.
Do you no longer love me?
Monday, March 26, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
I find it hard to believe. I can't believe I did it, but I'm guilty, I confess. When I awoke this morning, instead of jumping out of bed, instead of letting today become just another previous day of just another, of all the other previous days I've allowed myself this year, I laid there thinking. Fuck this, not today! It was totally unplanned, something totally out of character for me, but I did it. There was nothing special about this day, there was nothing making this day any different than any of the other days but something triggered something and I refused to allow today to become like all the others. I didn't think about my actions, I reached for the phone, I did the unimaginable, I took the day off. I'm giving myself a Hump Day Holiday.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
I am being followed! Someone is there, I know it, I can feel his presence, I can sense it. Following, lurking in the darkness, hidden behind shadows, watching my every move, a spy, a secret agent, a man, his face I can not make out. Walking when I walk, his steps mirror my steps, their sound echoing in my ears, he is there, behind me, following me.
I freeze in mid-step, trying to catch a more audible sound, but he stops as instantly as I. I stand there, I listen, I hear nothing, there is only silence, a deafening quiet. I know he is there, even though his footsteps no longer haunt my ears, I can still feel his presence. I know it is not possible, it must be my imagination, my mind playing a trick on me, his silenced footsteps have been replaced with the sound of his heartbeat. I can hear his heartbeat, I can feel his heartbeat, it beats in tune with mine. Thump . . . thump . . . thump. . .
There are no bed covers to pull over my head as I did as a child, scared of the night, even more afraid from having watched a scary movie, movies of monsters and creatures of the night. I am not afforded bed covers of warmth and safety, I will not find any here. It is time, to face the man.