I hate that whenever I want to document something via blog its usually a downer. Maybe its how I cry for help lol. Or just a way to tell everyone and noone at the same time.
I'm so stressed out right now. I haven't gone to see my therapist in 3 weeks. On one hand I felt he had become bored with me and my ramblings because all we talk about lately are things like "how much progress I've made in my life" and how proud I should be of myself. I need to be more forthcoming with him. Its true I've shaken a hell of alot of baggage, actually stopped living in crisis mode, and actually started feeling again (It really is nice to let myself feel again). BUT, as much as this is true turning that switch back on returned me to a world with so many pros and cons. For me life right now is like sitting in the driver's seat with the key in the ignition and asking myself "are you sure you want to do this". Its just that I'm 25, and I've experienced so much joy/pain, but as I go forward I fear the pain. Its called loss aversion and you can read all about it in "How We Decide" which is a great little book. I feel like a coward, but I keep wondering what its all worth if every gallon of joy is discounted by an ounce of pain. Then I think of love. I've experienced it in many many forms and I'll never forget that moment when I sat on a futon in Savannah Georgia and over the phone someone told me they loved me and it was all I ever needed. Maybe thats what I need now. To just feel loved. The search for love turns people into crackheads and I fear that for sure. I honestly don't feel the kind of love I need right now from anywhere. I fault myself which only makes it worse. The friends of mine that I could get it from I won't because I just can't trust anyone in the wake of the loss of my last 3 major friendships. How does this happen? I get so close to people and then they hurt me so badly every time. I blamed myself for a long time, but I shouldn't. They made their selfish decisions to take from me and in doing so betrayed me. At least I don't feel ugly or worthless anymore. I'm not gonna kill myself or anything (although I totally broke when I found out this health whatever thing isn't over yet), but I might disappear. I'm Joe Lewis for a reason though lol (like the boxer, spelled different same meaning). I'm a lover fighting for love.

p.s.- this is the gayest thing I have ever written, and I've written a gay porn script.

betrayal

Really?

"possible pre-cancerous cells" Who the hell wants to hear that?
My first response was "shut up and get out of my exam room sir". Then I thought "thats not what people say after being in there". I'm totally gonna write a standup comedy routine for this. For now though I'm going to eat these oreos and pretend everythings okay.

p.s- women of the world I now know what its like to have a pap smear. I just wish someone had photographed my face while getting it.
Oh and now when I get asked "top or btm" I get to say "top, doctors orders". (I've always just said "I'm a sideways" for shiggles
p.s.s.- I think this whole experience couldn't get more hilarious

Ridic

So Good news I got a new day job! Its at Agami in midtown! Wooo stop by for some sushi and say hello :)

In Memory

"Who Betta Than Kanyon??!!!??"

Christopher Klucsaritis (January 4, 1970 – April 2, 2010) was an American professional wrestler, best known for his work in World Championship Wrestling and the World Wrestling Federation, under the ring names Chris Kanyon (or simply Kanyon) and Mortis.

To me he was chris, and I'd like to share a memory.
On a sunny Atlanta afternoon chris showed up in the burb of conyers, in an older black convertible. With a fan shirt (of himself) on and that childlike twinkle in his eyes. He opened the door for me, and I hopped right in. We made small talk to avert the awkwardness (we met on gay.com lol) but just as we started to feel comfortable we heard a loud POP! He slowly pulled over with his face reddened and his voice silenced. As beyonce blared from the speakers he instructed me to stay in the car while he handled it. Of course I didn't listen. He dug through scattered promo/autograph photos of himself for the jack, and we joked that he should try and just lift the car himself. We pulled into the closest autozone called a cab and were on our way again. Over deep dish pizza and during some movie I don't remember, he told me tales of howard stern(who he listened to religiously) and of his "glory days". I waited for this monologue to stop knowing he prob tells it to everyone, and was just trying to impress me. What did impress me was when he opened up about his studies, and his eagerness to help people. What worried me was his dark side made clear by the prescription bottles he explained away. He wasn't shy about his battle with depression and I remember not really knowing what to say. An old wrestling buddy of his picked us up and took us to get the car. During that ride their interactions explained so much about why he was always "on". The macho-ness,the jokes out of nowhere. There was always this endearing sense of play with chris. I wish I could remember more details but that sunny day seems so far away. I remember it being the same week as the Atlanta gay film festival, I remember it was when I met Rupaul and Mike Ritz, and I will always remember how gentle/kindhearted he was.

I still don't know how to react to his going. You do find yourself wondering if instead of not knowing what to say you had said some magical sentence that would have comforted him then maybe he would still be here. Which is ridiculous but I cant help but go there. Suicide really upsets me. I mean I get it, but come on. We all have that little bit of hope left in Pandora's box. So don't give up. I know when I'm at my lowest I reach out, and try to find someone to live for. So try that at least. Live for the fact that if you go it will break my heart, and I only have so many bandaids left.

Beard

Check it out. Its Me If I had a Beard.

March!!! Spring is a Comin!

Here Are Some photos From today's fun-ness. They're modern clowns. American, African , and French.

They're also my reaction to someone saying "I think hes only into white boys."

I'm trying to say a few things.
-clowns make jokes and light of situations, so its an obvious symbol
-white face is a play on black face, so again obvious

I've run into this many many times in my life, and its never stopped being funny. I know many multiracial people who came out white looking, and many who came out darker than me. But because one of our parents is black (its hardly ever because one is white) we're thrown out of many dating pools. So I decided to paint my face white and make assclowns out of them. Its my way of saying "What about now? Am I good enough now?" Which will always be SUCH a twisted joke.

P.S.- Vogue Italy is trippin'. Black face editorals are fine I get that. To make a whole black section is not. Its separatism. Like how many schools had separate black and white proms or black and white talent shows. Its like saying its the same difference as men and women having two different sporting events for the same sport.