Three Hours of Darkness...
For this week’s movie night I rented three movies without strategy: “Short Bus” “Naked States” and “Cover”
If I were to review each of these movies and explain them so people who haven’t seen it will understand, it’ll take a million pages; so I’ll cut to the chase…
“Short Bus” and “Naked States” really encapsulated the exhibitionist spirit of freedom and shamelessness, while “Cover” told the story of women damaged by loving men on the DL. The former two movies were predominantly white; the latter had an all black cast. Nudity and Hedonism ran consequence-free in White America, while death and demolition crouched at the door of the bisexual black man.
I understand that each one of these movies were written and directed by different people with different perspectives on life, but I can’t help but see the same parallel in real life. Am I the only one who sees that the stakes are so much higher within the African-American community? Am I the only one who sees the disparity between white hedonism and black whoredom? I can’t help but see the correlation between darkness and disease…
From my standpoint, a bisexual black man, I see white men live liberated and black men finding shelter in secretive shadows. From my understanding of biology and spirituality, disease and infections fester and prosper in dark, dank environments away from light with its cleansing qualities.
Let’s conduct a little experiment, shall we… Let’s take two men and prescribe them the same amount of random penis; however, one participate has the opportunity to partake openly at home and in public places throughout the entire day as the other man is forced to take his dosage during the three hours of darkness between punching out at work and coming home for dinner with his wife. Call me naïve, but I see the second man having more issues than the first. With only three hours of darkness to burn, his decision making capabilities will be greatly compromised.
I’m not looking to solve the whole DL + MARRIAGE = AIDS IN THE BLACK COMMUNITY equation, I’ll just like to ask the question: would the problem still prevail if our desires were made plain? I have a girlfriend who is aware of my bisexuality; it was very hard for her to deal with at first, but she’s coming along. My monogamy supersedes my flexibility. Think about it: I love both men and women, but I love her more.
To the women who feel that they cannot compete with men, shall I remind you that you can’t compete with anyone who’s different in the general sense? My girlfriend cannot compete with the little, humble Asian women or feisty Latina women, nor should she have to…Love isn’t a competition (for the most part). I would also like to mention that my girlfriend’s knowledge of my orientation has given me the best both worlds in the sack. (Let your mind wonder on that accord…more on that later)
…Anyways, you should watch all three movies, in spite of Vivica A. Fox's questionable acting abilities, they’re all rather entertaining…
If I were to review each of these movies and explain them so people who haven’t seen it will understand, it’ll take a million pages; so I’ll cut to the chase…
“Short Bus” and “Naked States” really encapsulated the exhibitionist spirit of freedom and shamelessness, while “Cover” told the story of women damaged by loving men on the DL. The former two movies were predominantly white; the latter had an all black cast. Nudity and Hedonism ran consequence-free in White America, while death and demolition crouched at the door of the bisexual black man.
I understand that each one of these movies were written and directed by different people with different perspectives on life, but I can’t help but see the same parallel in real life. Am I the only one who sees that the stakes are so much higher within the African-American community? Am I the only one who sees the disparity between white hedonism and black whoredom? I can’t help but see the correlation between darkness and disease…
From my standpoint, a bisexual black man, I see white men live liberated and black men finding shelter in secretive shadows. From my understanding of biology and spirituality, disease and infections fester and prosper in dark, dank environments away from light with its cleansing qualities.
Let’s conduct a little experiment, shall we… Let’s take two men and prescribe them the same amount of random penis; however, one participate has the opportunity to partake openly at home and in public places throughout the entire day as the other man is forced to take his dosage during the three hours of darkness between punching out at work and coming home for dinner with his wife. Call me naïve, but I see the second man having more issues than the first. With only three hours of darkness to burn, his decision making capabilities will be greatly compromised.
I’m not looking to solve the whole DL + MARRIAGE = AIDS IN THE BLACK COMMUNITY equation, I’ll just like to ask the question: would the problem still prevail if our desires were made plain? I have a girlfriend who is aware of my bisexuality; it was very hard for her to deal with at first, but she’s coming along. My monogamy supersedes my flexibility. Think about it: I love both men and women, but I love her more.
To the women who feel that they cannot compete with men, shall I remind you that you can’t compete with anyone who’s different in the general sense? My girlfriend cannot compete with the little, humble Asian women or feisty Latina women, nor should she have to…Love isn’t a competition (for the most part). I would also like to mention that my girlfriend’s knowledge of my orientation has given me the best both worlds in the sack. (Let your mind wonder on that accord…more on that later)
…Anyways, you should watch all three movies, in spite of Vivica A. Fox's questionable acting abilities, they’re all rather entertaining…
When The Young Die (An ode to the 74th)
A young man dies at the hands of an aimless amateur's aim
A million possibilities whittled down to just one
A beautiful prism shattered into infinite pieces, I pray to God they catch the light all the same...
It's incredibly fucked up when someone at the head of their adulthood life gets cut short. My mind becomes dense as I try to make sense of it without trivializing his individuality. I want so badly to write about how he's smiling down from Heaven. I want so badly to write about how some Japanese infant has the same twinkle in his eyes. I want so badly to pacify myself with some old religious bullshit that'll give me something to celebrate.
I have a rule I've set in stone for myself in regards to spiritual beliefs: (1) I will not entertain theories of what happened before creation. (2) I will not entertain theories of what happens after death. It's really hard to not break those rule during this ordeal.
The main purpose of "life after death" doctrine, in my humble opinion, is to offer comfort to those still stuck here. Oddly, I find the same comfort in the idea that his energy has been dispersed evenly across the universe. Energy can not be created or destroyed only tranferred or transformed; I figure his spirit is doing something else now.
When magnets stick together I'll think of him...just kidding...well, kind of...
Knowing him and losing him has inspired me to not waste life. Time is eternal. Space is infinite. Life is but a fading vapor...
Its time to unleash my ambitions...or unleash them temporarily until laziness sets in...
A million possibilities whittled down to just one
A beautiful prism shattered into infinite pieces, I pray to God they catch the light all the same...
It's incredibly fucked up when someone at the head of their adulthood life gets cut short. My mind becomes dense as I try to make sense of it without trivializing his individuality. I want so badly to write about how he's smiling down from Heaven. I want so badly to write about how some Japanese infant has the same twinkle in his eyes. I want so badly to pacify myself with some old religious bullshit that'll give me something to celebrate.
I have a rule I've set in stone for myself in regards to spiritual beliefs: (1) I will not entertain theories of what happened before creation. (2) I will not entertain theories of what happens after death. It's really hard to not break those rule during this ordeal.
The main purpose of "life after death" doctrine, in my humble opinion, is to offer comfort to those still stuck here. Oddly, I find the same comfort in the idea that his energy has been dispersed evenly across the universe. Energy can not be created or destroyed only tranferred or transformed; I figure his spirit is doing something else now.
When magnets stick together I'll think of him...just kidding...well, kind of...
Knowing him and losing him has inspired me to not waste life. Time is eternal. Space is infinite. Life is but a fading vapor...
Its time to unleash my ambitions...or unleash them temporarily until laziness sets in...
The True Windows of the Soul
I have an interest in feet. Male or female. Adult or child. I read soles the way psychics read palms. As a massage therapist, I can understand a great deal about a person just by exploring their feet. Think about it: they bear the burden of our journey. After a lifetime of walking, marching and dancing, your ankle's angle, your toes' cursive, the thickness and location of your callouses will reflect that journey.
Lips, clothes and even eyes can lie, but feet tells the true story. I would even go as far as to say that feet are the true windows of the soul. I do admit that it's weird, years of surfing the internet has proven that to me.
As for myself, I love attention paid to my feet as well; I absolutely love pedicures and reflexology massages. During intense stimulation, I can feel the energy pour from my feet. I feel purged and cleansed.
Most people associate foot service with degradation and humiliation; I consider it sacred. A foot fetishist, I know the power harnessed with the stimulation of one's feet. Reflexology tell us that through trigger points found in the feet, one can have access to the entire body. I would even say that the soul can be contacted through the soles. I love sucking, licking and biting on my girlfriend's feet. I love positioning her so I can penetrate with her toes in my mouth. The ultimate pacifier...
It is said that foot fetishism in heterosexual women is rare...The scarcity of the jewel I've found, makes her value overwhelming.
I have a beautiful woman who loves to worship my toes, soles and ankles. She turns massage, licking and sucking into an bonafide artform and she isn't modest about it.
With my eyes closed, as my toes begin to bathe in the warm waters of her thirsty mouth, I feel divine. Beyond luxury or satisfaction, I forget about my blemishes, my scars and I see the golden energy pulsating from my flesh. I feel like I AM.
Moaning and Writhing, I become a weeping giant as she administers her priase and worship; sucking each individual toe, racking her long tongue across the full length of my sole. This black man becomes both sovereign and elegant, strong and ethereal.
Before the night's over, my knees press against my chest as the truth of Her power unfolds....
The tables turn...
Can't put a finger on it/ on the tip of my tongue...
Have you ever chased a phantom? Have you ever smelled the signature scent of something that is non-existant? Have you ever dug for invisible, intagible treasure while blindfolded? Welcome to my struggle...My whole life, I've been chasing songs that has never been composed, digging for quotes that no one has ever spoken, masturbating to pornographic scenes that has never occured between two people.
I've been told that it's The God in me exploring the gulf between my limits and His Power.
If only my hands were dexterous enough to play the fictional song pounding in my head. If only I was blesssed with a tongue skillful enough to articulate the complex contextual concepts crawling across my mind. If only I had the money, power and the respect necessary to manifest my ideas.
In my dreams, some mysterious cult arrives and initiates me into their darkly propserous Illuminati; revealing before me the world I always knew existed. Where's Morpheous when you need him? Where are the radioactive spiders, the mutantgenic X genes? Where's Jesus?
I know the answer...unfortunately.
The God in me is exploring the gulf between my limitations and His Power...in other words, He's exploring 'me'. If there was anything lower than lower case, I'd use it for the letter m in 'me'...and there lies the problem. 'i' am the only thing standing between my limits and His power.
This blog will be attempt to get out of the way or embarrass myself trying...
I've been told that it's The God in me exploring the gulf between my limits and His Power.
If only my hands were dexterous enough to play the fictional song pounding in my head. If only I was blesssed with a tongue skillful enough to articulate the complex contextual concepts crawling across my mind. If only I had the money, power and the respect necessary to manifest my ideas.
In my dreams, some mysterious cult arrives and initiates me into their darkly propserous Illuminati; revealing before me the world I always knew existed. Where's Morpheous when you need him? Where are the radioactive spiders, the mutantgenic X genes? Where's Jesus?
I know the answer...unfortunately.
The God in me is exploring the gulf between my limitations and His Power...in other words, He's exploring 'me'. If there was anything lower than lower case, I'd use it for the letter m in 'me'...and there lies the problem. 'i' am the only thing standing between my limits and His power.
This blog will be attempt to get out of the way or embarrass myself trying...
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