With frank honesty, much of the delay in my response is my own personal fear and the amount of self analyzation I will need to undertack in an effort to tackle the exact question posed to myself and others.
Well, for the past three-five weeks I've tackled my thoughts/feelings about
"love in a life like this"-
So here they are for all exposure/visiblibilty/& public scrunity.
Draft1
Like my freind Claystarr, all I've ever wanted to do in life was to meet some man and fall in love and have him fall in love with me. However, this has never truly happened. I've had several relationships, none of which seemed to offer me the safety, understanding, time nor space I needed to develop into the man I'm meant to be. However, I still persist, but to what bounds? Claystarr ask, how does one love in a life like this?
My answer is simple- many times one doesn't! Yeah, it's sad but true, but many of us never do. We might fool ourselves into beliveing that were in love or that someone loves us back, but in the back of our hearts and minds we all know that were not giving enough, trusting enough, or allowing ourselves to truly fall in love. We are simply filling our shelfs with "trouphies" which don't make us happy but help assist in our much needed "outer appearance".
I.E, for a large percentage of men when asked what's their idea man, the response is 6' or taller, muscular body, ass for days, big dick, masculine, and DL.
My first thought in this "wish" list is unrealistic expectations- now, personally speaking, my biggest issue on the wish list is our "community's" "obsession with the DL". For whatever reason, we have more brothas ready and willing to accept "love" in dark places and steamy rooms than in the light of day. I mean damn, I just want to hold your hand or be able to kiss ur lips in grand central station- if thats what I CHOOSE to do- But, at any rate- anyone who lives on the DL can't love me, because their own description in itself limits the amount of "love" that their willing or capable of; afterall their only interested in loving me on the "down low"- you know behind doors, with windows shut tight and the curtains drawn so noone sees- Well, I can't love anyone who is ashamed of loving me nor who has a problem with what they feel and finds the NEED to hide the person whom they claim they "love".
Like my freind Claystarr, all I've ever wanted to do in life was to meet some man and fall in love and have him fall in love with me. However, this has never truly happened. I've had several relationships, none of which seemed to offer me the safety, understanding, time nor space I needed to develop into the man I'm meant to be. However, I still persist, but to what bounds? Claystarr ask, how does one love in a life like this?
My answer is simple- many times one doesn't! Yeah, it's sad but true, but many of us never do. We might fool ourselves into beliveing that were in love or that someone loves us back, but in the back of our hearts and minds we all know that were not giving enough, trusting enough, or allowing ourselves to truly fall in love. We are simply filling our shelfs with "trouphies" which don't make us happy but help assist in our much needed "outer appearance".
I.E, for a large percentage of men when asked what's their idea man, the response is 6' or taller, muscular body, ass for days, big dick, masculine, and DL.
My first thought in this "wish" list is unrealistic expectations- now, personally speaking, my biggest issue on the wish list is our "community's" "obsession with the DL". For whatever reason, we have more brothas ready and willing to accept "love" in dark places and steamy rooms than in the light of day. I mean damn, I just want to hold your hand or be able to kiss ur lips in grand central station- if thats what I CHOOSE to do- But, at any rate- anyone who lives on the DL can't love me, because their own description in itself limits the amount of "love" that their willing or capable of; afterall their only interested in loving me on the "down low"- you know behind doors, with windows shut tight and the curtains drawn so noone sees- Well, I can't love anyone who is ashamed of loving me nor who has a problem with what they feel and finds the NEED to hide the person whom they claim they "love".
At any rate, the point of this blog was & is not to bash the "DL" brothas, although majority of yall work my fucking nerves with your issues and insecurities and masculinity issues but always want to be in my face- LMAO- Anyway, today's blog is to examine the role that hiv+ brothas play in my life and others- afterall that is what "loving in a life like this" signifies- and how exactly does one "love in a life like this?"
Well, last week a poet freind of mine told me he was in love with me- to which I blushed- because I was like what? And he said listening to my poetry has caused him to fall in "love" with me-
Now, this would have been fine #1 if I wasn't so into Cutiepie & #2 if the brotha wasn't hiv+
Draft #2-
So, I've deeply considered/analyzed/ re-evaluated my views on "love" and what would a "love" like this" entail- Recently a poet buddy of mine, who happens to be hiv+, told me that he was in love with me and was interested in becoming involved with me- Well, initially I was shocked because when he initially told me he was hiv+ months ago, I went numb- because I still haven't developed the maturity it takes to date/be involved with someone who is hiv+. Now, logically speaking, I'm sure I have kissed/slept with/ dated/ people who were hiv+ and didn't know or didn't tell me- but for whatever reason knowing and assuming are two different things- and when I know it makes a difference- sad as that may seem- it's the truth
Draft #3 1/28/05 Turn the Radio Up-
that's my jam......I've always said that I like to feel my music. Well, the other day, I was at home listening to some Betty Carter, now Betty is one bad bitch let me tell ya' So, I'm listening to Bad ass Betty and I'm listening and suddenly the music takes over and I'm somewhere else. It's like I'm outside of myself looking at my life, examining my expereinces, desperately trying to understand how did I get to this point....my memories are mushed together, locked in my left leg, tied to bullet wound where two years ago someone tried to take my life and I'm living in this music. Betty is all over the place, taking me to distant memories of things I thought I had forgot, things I wish I could forget forever, but their still here. And suddenly the music is interrupted by newsflash and gossip about hiv/aids. For the past few days, I've been floaded with e-mails, blogs, Im's, phone conversations, passing conversations in streets and bars, and god damn, someone please turn the music back on because I'm tired of hearing all this. Hearing all this information thats making me too damn afraid to touch anyone but knowing that I need to be touched and I'm going to have to touch somone. My boy Claystarr asks, how does one live in a life like this?
Honestly, I don't know- with great care I guess. But, whatever happened to rather loving and losing than never loving at all. I guess that's so old school because even I don't follow that one anymore. It's sad but true, hiv and aids scares the fuck out of me and now I hear there's a new strain thats immune to like 3 drug therapies and develops in aids even quicker.
*****************************************************************
I'm scared as a muthafucka of this deadly disease, so someone please turn the radio up, I don't want to hear no more about it!
*****************************************************************
that's my jam......I've always said that I like to feel my music. Well, the other day, I was at home listening to some Betty Carter, now Betty is one bad bitch let me tell ya' So, I'm listening to Bad ass Betty and I'm listening and suddenly the music takes over and I'm somewhere else. It's like I'm outside of myself looking at my life, examining my expereinces, desperately trying to understand how did I get to this point....my memories are mushed together, locked in my left leg, tied to bullet wound where two years ago someone tried to take my life and I'm living in this music. Betty is all over the place, taking me to distant memories of things I thought I had forgot, things I wish I could forget forever, but their still here. And suddenly the music is interrupted by newsflash and gossip about hiv/aids. For the past few days, I've been floaded with e-mails, blogs, Im's, phone conversations, passing conversations in streets and bars, and god damn, someone please turn the music back on because I'm tired of hearing all this. Hearing all this information thats making me too damn afraid to touch anyone but knowing that I need to be touched and I'm going to have to touch somone. My boy Claystarr asks, how does one live in a life like this?
Honestly, I don't know- with great care I guess. But, whatever happened to rather loving and losing than never loving at all. I guess that's so old school because even I don't follow that one anymore. It's sad but true, hiv and aids scares the fuck out of me and now I hear there's a new strain thats immune to like 3 drug therapies and develops in aids even quicker.
*****************************************************************
I'm scared as a muthafucka of this deadly disease, so someone please turn the radio up, I don't want to hear no more about it!
*****************************************************************
Response to my drafts
On many levels I don't understand my own ignorance- I mean I'm the dude that passed out condoms and lolipops on Valentine's Day in undergrad and educated people about hiv protection/preventation/ etc- How in all my educatedness am I still so ignorant and afraid?
On many levels I don't understand my own ignorance- I mean I'm the dude that passed out condoms and lolipops on Valentine's Day in undergrad and educated people about hiv protection/preventation/ etc- How in all my educatedness am I still so ignorant and afraid?
2 comments:
I can understand how the brotha feels about you. I have been reading your blog for a little of a month now and I don't even know you and i'm feeling you. Your writing has done that to me.
But on the other subject, HIV has scared the hell out of me too. It's gotten to the point that I have given up sex until I am in a stable, loving relationship. But isn't that the way that it's supposed to be?
Chuck-Chicago, IL
I feel your poetry too man, and you seem like someone I wish I had as a friend to kick it with here in no man's land where I live. I actually had an HIV+ brutha that lives in STL try and get with me. Dude was nice looking and everything and was the type I usually go for and we had good conversations but when he disclosed his status I tell you it scared the shit out of me. I am a case manager and you would think I would be open minded since I work and deal with all kinds of people. The whole HIV thing with the guy just made me distant with dude from then on. We talk every now and then but conversations are short and distant.
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