Partying to Death Sexing to the Death because We Are GAY
A night at Trade. Photo courtesy of Trade
On this March 24, I posted the story of a 36 year old Lawyer to the Stars in London and his boyfriend of just turning 18 and now dead due to the drugs his boyfriend supplied for him.
A very important , conservative man headed for politics acted like there were no rules and no boundaries once he came off the public eye. Click to see that story Top Barrister 35 kills Young Boy Friend 18 Who OD
I don’t want to judge too harshly nor minimize what gay guys do to each other to hurt us in the name of sex and fun but this a community that has been so demonized and repressed that now that we have more freedoms than before and still very far from the mark sometimes lack the restraint that the new generation of gays will certainly have.
We see gays dying in ways that are vicious and unnecessary. It’s so screwed up that many of these guys can still go on hazings, drugs and sex parties. The more conservative the city or town that offer more strict laws for drugs and public homosexual related conduct, the more of it goes on behind eyes of the community at large and without any sense of what the safe boundaries are. Those are side effects of an intolerant, homophobic society. The pressure buid up has to give somewhere. I know this out of my true experience in finding and dealing with my own sexuality.
A very important , conservative man headed for politics acted like there were no rules and no boundaries once he came off the public eye. Click to see that story Top Barrister 35 kills Young Boy Friend 18 Who OD
I don’t want to judge too harshly nor minimize what gay guys do to each other to hurt us in the name of sex and fun but this a community that has been so demonized and repressed that now that we have more freedoms than before and still very far from the mark sometimes lack the restraint that the new generation of gays will certainly have.
We see gays dying in ways that are vicious and unnecessary. It’s so screwed up that many of these guys can still go on hazings, drugs and sex parties. The more conservative the city or town that offer more strict laws for drugs and public homosexual related conduct, the more of it goes on behind eyes of the community at large and without any sense of what the safe boundaries are. Those are side effects of an intolerant, homophobic society. The pressure buid up has to give somewhere. I know this out of my true experience in finding and dealing with my own sexuality.
I think one has to be gay or very close to gays to understand how it feels to be ostracized even before we know we are gays our selves. [I’ll try to explain it using me for the first time]
I remember being called a f***t by my father and my oldest sister when they got pissed at me which was often. At six I could not understand what was wrong with being a f**** . I went on without care but knew something was wrong with that word. I knew I could not be that because as troublesome as I was as a kid, stub born and hard to handle, I knew I was a good kid. I loved my mother with a love unsurpassed by anything or anyone. I fear god, I even loved my father and my oldest sister and eventually I became close with my oldest sister.
I loved my friends and my teachers and all of my family even loved my older brothers that abused me physically when drunk or thinking I needed to be slapped around thinking it was time or that Ive done something wrong, (which brought me close to serious injury once I got older, around 9-10) because now I would use my mouth to repealed every slapped which brought a new one instead. May be I hoped to be injured bad enough for a trip to the hospital and see if it was true that a child could not be abused by someone, even a brother. I was afraid of pain and afraid of blood but once tasted it did not matter anymore.
My mom never called me that and she would say to not pay attention but to try to be better.
I remember being called a f***t by my father and my oldest sister when they got pissed at me which was often. At six I could not understand what was wrong with being a f**** . I went on without care but knew something was wrong with that word. I knew I could not be that because as troublesome as I was as a kid, stub born and hard to handle, I knew I was a good kid. I loved my mother with a love unsurpassed by anything or anyone. I fear god, I even loved my father and my oldest sister and eventually I became close with my oldest sister.
I loved my friends and my teachers and all of my family even loved my older brothers that abused me physically when drunk or thinking I needed to be slapped around thinking it was time or that Ive done something wrong, (which brought me close to serious injury once I got older, around 9-10) because now I would use my mouth to repealed every slapped which brought a new one instead. May be I hoped to be injured bad enough for a trip to the hospital and see if it was true that a child could not be abused by someone, even a brother. I was afraid of pain and afraid of blood but once tasted it did not matter anymore.
My mom never called me that and she would say to not pay attention but to try to be better.
When I came out to myself around 19 I decided I wanted to do sexually everything that could be done (as long as I did not hurt anyone or got hurt myself). I was so repressed about gay sex and such a novice. No one to ask except by trial and error with my sex partners which usually I never saw after the first time. Some said I did just the right thing and others thought I was selfish in sex except I only knew how to do one thing and never knew how well I was doing it for my partner, just concentrated on the inside feeling of a new exciting and forbidden experience. How heavenly, particularly when the guilt could not make me retreat it. I looked to every encounter as a new school. I wanted high marks.
I figured that by the time I got old I would want to remember all those experiences and pick out and choose which ones where the ones for me. How many trips to the Dept of Health venereal disease clinic I made! I would pick different neighborhoods so I would not be recognize as a frequent flyer. Condoms many times where of no use because sex many times was with not much warning. The testosterone of guys in their late teen early twenty is a volcano that’s ready to erupt, I think most of us know that.
As I started to experiment, a look, a glance and a nod of approval would start the conversation or not even much conversation. I would often be asked if I was a cop because I was told, clean cut and conservatively dressed. I told myself I would stop when I became comfortable in my own skin of who I was always told myself but truly I thought I might not finish my exploration into this forbidden field because of the dangers I encounter. I was afraid of the so called “bears’ and their leather customs and the uniforms made laugh but I would hope to find someone close to me in this zoo of lost humans, I thought. Once in the west v ullage behind the infamous trucks I decided after passing by so many times on foot on car on my dreams. I actually intended this time to walk to the back to where most guys were busy doing what ever they where doing. I had to see it. As I commenced my trek a white casual but “square” dressed man of about 45-50 stop in front of me. He had a hanker-ship and it looked like he had just finished eating fried chicken or may be just drinking milk which spilled down his lips . He said “your first time agh. Welcome to this awful life” he continue walking out into the street and getting lost in the fog of the night.
Everything I tried confirmed that I was gay not bi (I used to called myself that and I was but I knew I belong with a guy not a girl) Had I been born during this millennial period, I doubt all that would have happen. I would have searched to meet a guy and I would have stayed with him. I would not have looked in the wrong places.
I figured that by the time I got old I would want to remember all those experiences and pick out and choose which ones where the ones for me. How many trips to the Dept of Health venereal disease clinic I made! I would pick different neighborhoods so I would not be recognize as a frequent flyer. Condoms many times where of no use because sex many times was with not much warning. The testosterone of guys in their late teen early twenty is a volcano that’s ready to erupt, I think most of us know that.
As I started to experiment, a look, a glance and a nod of approval would start the conversation or not even much conversation. I would often be asked if I was a cop because I was told, clean cut and conservatively dressed. I told myself I would stop when I became comfortable in my own skin of who I was always told myself but truly I thought I might not finish my exploration into this forbidden field because of the dangers I encounter. I was afraid of the so called “bears’ and their leather customs and the uniforms made laugh but I would hope to find someone close to me in this zoo of lost humans, I thought. Once in the west v ullage behind the infamous trucks I decided after passing by so many times on foot on car on my dreams. I actually intended this time to walk to the back to where most guys were busy doing what ever they where doing. I had to see it. As I commenced my trek a white casual but “square” dressed man of about 45-50 stop in front of me. He had a hanker-ship and it looked like he had just finished eating fried chicken or may be just drinking milk which spilled down his lips . He said “your first time agh. Welcome to this awful life” he continue walking out into the street and getting lost in the fog of the night.
Everything I tried confirmed that I was gay not bi (I used to called myself that and I was but I knew I belong with a guy not a girl) Had I been born during this millennial period, I doubt all that would have happen. I would have searched to meet a guy and I would have stayed with him. I would not have looked in the wrong places.
Sometimes I think that we should be a screw up community and in many ways we are but not more than any other and we have so many excuses to be the worse yet with the exception of many in the community having problems of fidelity, communication and fairness to each other, we are still better than most. With all the garbage society and religion has imposed on us we usually strive to be better, to find our rainbow or at least white cloud.
In this this beautiful well to do couple you add drugs and it will be just like me, except I was not well off nor did I partake in drugs. The dangers I encountered were others in which you got the wrong person who wants to make spaghetti out of your brains. Fought many fights and got shot once. Never thought I would live to get old before I found what I was looking for and felt at ease with me. It was like I had to prove to myself how gay I was and more importantly that it was ok no matter if god himself said the opposite.
Particularly being young and butch without realizing I was, I slit into a night life of dancing and cruising. I had to even accept so money once, wanted to know if this was me. I actually envied guys that seemed to have no job and lived with a few roommates.
I worked hard and went to work with a suit and tie. Had my own place, always had my own apartment. This alone will keep me from drugs because I wanted to grow in my company or another company. I had boyfriends coming over and boyfriends that moved in but I always kept my sense of belonging in a sane work. To say I wish wanting to belong to a straight world but felt inside of me I didn’t because I always had to make up stories about my where a bouts.
My love for my mother and the security I decided to keep by having a professional life I had and I was not going to fuck it up. I could go to work without sleep and boozed up from the night before but I was there on time and ready to do a job I though. One co worker would tell he knew when I had gone out because he would smell a nice aroma of cologne around my locker.
Had I would have gone down in drugs I would have never come back. A seemingly well off boyfriend I had that was into coke. It was the first time I tasted it and it fucked me up. Went to work the next day after having breakfast with him. He went to work in the West village and I headed to work midtown. Not two hours into work I was being rushed in an ambulance to the hospital. Once was enough I had to leave my boyfriend and keep my goals. What if I could just turn straight by having enough gay sex to hate it, it would be great! I thought but that never happened. Instead I became who I was and that was cool.
Particularly being young and butch without realizing I was, I slit into a night life of dancing and cruising. I had to even accept so money once, wanted to know if this was me. I actually envied guys that seemed to have no job and lived with a few roommates.
I worked hard and went to work with a suit and tie. Had my own place, always had my own apartment. This alone will keep me from drugs because I wanted to grow in my company or another company. I had boyfriends coming over and boyfriends that moved in but I always kept my sense of belonging in a sane work. To say I wish wanting to belong to a straight world but felt inside of me I didn’t because I always had to make up stories about my where a bouts.
My love for my mother and the security I decided to keep by having a professional life I had and I was not going to fuck it up. I could go to work without sleep and boozed up from the night before but I was there on time and ready to do a job I though. One co worker would tell he knew when I had gone out because he would smell a nice aroma of cologne around my locker.
Had I would have gone down in drugs I would have never come back. A seemingly well off boyfriend I had that was into coke. It was the first time I tasted it and it fucked me up. Went to work the next day after having breakfast with him. He went to work in the West village and I headed to work midtown. Not two hours into work I was being rushed in an ambulance to the hospital. Once was enough I had to leave my boyfriend and keep my goals. What if I could just turn straight by having enough gay sex to hate it, it would be great! I thought but that never happened. Instead I became who I was and that was cool.
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| On the left is my mom and on my right my second mom and main Seminary Teacher I’m at the center on my 3 yrs Graduation Ceremony, I was 18. I spent 14-18 at the Seminary working to pay for my studies there. |
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