Babbling

Ok, I'm so distraught right now- I mean I go through this phases of wanting to be pure and shyt, and then I read, see, or enjoy things which are totally the opposite- or simply extremes of each other- For instance, (and I'm not hating) but one of my guilty pleasures is reading the blog sex in the second city- on one hand, it's B-Boy Blues on the other it's pornography and eventhough it one the award for best LGBT black blog award I feel some kind of way that out of all the LGBT blogs, the one that highlights our dirty laundry is the one that "most of us" voted for to represent us-

Now, don't get me wrong cause I read the blog once a week, but deep inside what bothers me is that the blog is representive of what most of the brothas that I've come across think, feel, and how they live- the problem for me is that I just want to meet one brotha fall in love not lust raise a family and call it a day- the problem is so many brothas are so bust sucking dick and getting fucked in the bathhouses and parks and zoos that i mean shyt are they any good men left- and out of those good men left are there any who are NOT hiv+- Obviously I'm still struggle with being hiv/aids phobic like a mug, and i constantly get on myself about it, but shyt got to be honest, I'm not mature enough to handle so I bow it when I'm approached with it- which bring me to the other contradiction- it's like we as brothas say we want people to be honest with us, but then when they are we react in a negative light- that shyt ain't right- you know yesterday i was having a conversation with an acquantance and we were talking about all the brothas who r single and whats not and i was like well man we want it to come in a certain package and if it ain't in that package we don't want to be bothered-

Ie, if you ain't masculine, tall, sexy, nice body wither that means muscular or skinny as fuck, got a big dick some good ass, extrememly good looking i ain't feeling u- shyt man although i do admire a tall, nice looking brotha i want to meet a brotha who catches me from across the room, like i can't take my eyes of u, the type of brotha that makes me blush, the one who can pentrate my inner most crust to hold the gem i hold dear, who can take away the pain, make me new, kiss me like the dew that wets the grass each morning, soft and wet, delicate and free- one who knows how to be gentle but who i can also wrestle with and cuddle with and cook with and love and hug and hold close- i want i seek i wait for someone to make me pure and empty sex isn't giving me anything that i really need or want- until i meet this man- i'm simply laying beside empty casket that decorate the deaths of bodies that were never alive, people who never touched, never sensed the real me, the deep passion within my heart- the pure part of my heart that besides the three somes, and orgies, and dark nightmares, and the dick sucking, and stranger fucking seeks something pure, some chemistry someone who understands me even in my darkest hour, someone who has the power to love me as my fragile self, and helper to strengthen all the wealth that makes me who i am, complicated yet simple- young yet old, expereinced yet naive, bored yet adventous, professional yet ghetto, torn yet put together, hurt yet loved, guarded yet open, tortured yet free- damn can i just be me