“Are you sure you wanna be well sweetheart? A lot of weight when you’re well”.
The Salt Eaters
The first time I had peach yogurt, I was visiting a friend in a mental institution.
I don’t know my Nephew.
I have not seen my family in two years. Fear hurts. Fear kills. Fear breeds stupidity disguised as safety.
As an out , proud black gay man, I am often asked to be less than my marvelous self. This can be addressed with a hearty fuck you. It is more challenging to tell an elderly family to get bent when they are in their 80's and preparing for that big send off.
My family neither knows nor understands me.
It seems easier to deny what I am. This allows a safe and comfortable distance. But what are they saving themselves from ? HIV, embarrassment, humiliation a proper revamping of their homes?
My father, at one point in our odd and strained relationship could only interact with me based on an obsession with making sure I stayed “healthy”.
Moving beyond Fetish… The opportunities for growth and joy via black and white gay male relationships
I have spent half of my dating life with white men.
As far as I can see, there is a great deal of confusion and mayhem regarding how these seemingly divergent groups get along, partner up and develop loving, committed non exploitative relationships.
What is this thing we call attraction ? Is it learned ? Can it be redeveloped?
After ten years of grief and angst, the American public feels vindicated.
The big bad, the evil one, the devil incarnate has been made to pay the price for fucking the world’s saviors, the country that rights the wrongs globally of evildoers.
On the unassuming Sunday that this news was delivered while also interfering with Desperate Housewives, I was getting ready to have a proper romp with my gorgeous man. When the news broke, it slowed us down for an hour or so then we felt compelled to the call of the wild.