Wednesday 17 May 2017
So it ALL starts with a song. A song written in the secret cavern of my home. A song of desire, loss, loneliness and the need of human touch and recognition.
OVER THE YEARS THE STRUGGLE BETWEEN MY SEXUALITY AND FAITH HAS CREATED MUCH DISTURBANCE IN ME.
Don’t get it wrong I am acutely aware of God and the force of negativity. So it is a deeply sacred but conflictual part of my life. A part that consumes me both with joy and sadness simultaneously.
I DON’T KNOW HOW TO BE WHAT I AM NOT.
I NEED TO KNOW
sometimes I just need to know
undeniably, I need this
you to slay me till I surrender
to your control
take me as a man, break me as a man
even for a moment
I want to lose control
what is it to be surrendered
completely lost to you
will I enjoy it?
will I handle it?
I love you more than I care to know
I wish you would teach me how to be so cold
Everyday away from you drives the hope that it will change…..you will change.
I see your beautiful eyes and smile that can change the whole world.
You see your smile changed my world and made me believe there was a little magic in it for me.
Teach me to be so cold.
Both the above bits of writing were written in my solitude. Both reflect the deep desire to lose myself, for a moment out of myself. The self that fights to be vital. The part that desires to be seen where eyes can’t see.
DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU ARE GOING TO JUDGE OR ARE FAINT-HEARTED
I had to let go of R. I had been waking up for weeks speaking to him and wandering around my apartment looking for him. I, quite frankly, had been going slightly mad. His avoidance had pushed me into a realm of fatal hopefulness. I had NEVER been so in despair of love that I would wake up deep in conversation with a lover who was not there.
I knew I was sick but the idea of letting go was worse. I didn’t want to lose the love that meant so much to me even of it was not reciprocal anymore.
I designed provocative dress in case he would pitch up. The kind of dress that one finds in the underground world of erotica.
Rope, leather, fabric, fishnet amateurish in production but highly eloquent in its message of seduction were strewn together. Hours were spent on plotting the perfect seduction.
My home would be enchanting with candles, seductive fragrances, colours to delight and the perfect baths to tantalise and overwhelm the selected prey.
Tuesday last week after finally conceding that I had lost and no hope was left to salvage a friends with benefits scenario, I awoke at 12. ANGRY THAT I WOULD FACE ANOTHER NIGHT OF UNRELENTING DESIRE.
You see I had secretly hoped that a mutually beneficial sexual friendship would save me from the HIDEOUS world of online sites and dingy sex clubs. But no luck Mr •AJB•
Mark came over and a small part of my ritual could be spent on a complete stranger. The conversation was cool and rather refreshing in its honesty. But I had a real live human in my home that wanted me. I was floating. All goods things come to an end. The volatile monster was angry at the semi-satisfied desire in me.
With the right mix of chemical escapism on hand I could switch the real world off and hunt my satisfaction. I found myself in Randburg with not 1 but 3 magnificent males and did whatever my crazed beast wanted. But something was lacking.
THE NEED TO HAVE ‘THE ONE’ TO PASSIFY AND BRING ME TO SURRENDER, WILLINGLY WAS NOT TO BE FOUND.
I needed the kind of man that could peak my interest enough to allow me to let go. Let go of myself, let go of the pain, let go of resorting to current behaviours, let go of pride, let go of the disappointment that another rule, namely: YOU HAVE TO ALLOW DISTANCE AT THE END OF THE BREAKUP, was more important to uphold than the potential of a new rule being formed.
I had never had a relationship that was not only deeply sexually playful but also had evolved into a best friendship…for me at least. So why not try be friends with benefits and see….if not; not…but if yes I would have saved a friendship.
So the fact that an ideology was more important than the testing of another reiterated the fact that my own feelings, ideas and thoughts were considered less important.
Hence the depth of the escapism necessary to find a moment that captured another’s heart, mind and interest was crucial to make me feel important.
in the world we live in I ran into desperate takers trying to con me….so I let them. If the measures they were taking to take advantage of an obviously ‘beside-themselves-another’ was necessary perhaps their crises was greater than my own. AT LEAST I FELT GOOD AT BEING A GOOD GUY IN A VERY RIDICULOUS SITUATION.
SO THE SEARCH TO BE SLAYED INTO SUBMISSION CONTINUED….
I ended up in dark dingy gay sex clubs; mostly to be surrounded by other humans and also to test the reactions to my little outfit. NEEDLESS TO SAY THEY INTRIGUED. BOTH!
But I hate those environments as I feel a little out of my depth and vulnerable. I mean this is why I have to near put myself into chemical coma to just face all this OBVIOUSNESS.
the romantic artist in me much prefers the innuendo and glamour of seduction; hence the DRESS UP.
eventually Saturday morning after days of null and void searching for a bit of Magic to make me believe that I was important enough to hope for a better tomorrow; but to no avail. I had the kind strangers who saw me home in my home.
I was able to nurse the badly hurting foot of Vusi back to some road of recovery as they then left to seek some medical advice from a pharmacist.
I was back into myself……I LOVE BEING KIND TO OTHERS AT NO COST.
With minor robberies having happened right down to things being stolen off my body; I had no more SEARCH left in me. I had no more ABILITY to let life take its toll. I had no more ENDURANCE for consequence to whip me.
The tears that cut so deep never surfaced.
I HAD NEITHER BEEN SLAYED, OR SUBMITTED, OR LET GO, OR COME OUT ANY BETTER FROM MY MOMENT OF SHEER MADNESS.
I said yes to Paris decor in Hyde Park. I said yes to giving up the hunt. I said yes to saying no more. I said yes to seeking professional advice. Yes to potential medication. Yes to other forms of outlets. Yes to showing my full creative spectrum as money allows me to RE-INVENT my look, and fully explore the artist in me.
SO FINALLY HE ADMITS THAT HE IS A LITTLE FREAK. A FREAK THAT HAS A HEART FOR LOVE. A FREAK THAT HURTS DEEPLY. A FREAK THAT SEEKS BEYOND THE OBVIOUS TO FIND A REMINISCENCE OF THE MAN THE LOVES TO BE MORE THAN THE RUN OF THE MILL.
somehow…..God loves in and through this and even has blessed me that I have friends, clients that adore me and forgive me my humanity, blessed that I come out with a deeper awareness, blessed in that I see his protective hand in every dangerous place I put myself.
LET’S BE HONEST…..I COULD’VE BEEN DEAD.
SO REMEMBER EVERY JOURNEY DOESN’T HAVE TO BE AS AGGRESSIVE, HEART-BREAKING OR DESTRUCTIVE AS MY OWN. BUT EVERY JOURNEY TO BECOMING OUR FULL AUTHENTICITY IS THE JOURNEY THAT MATTERS MOST. SOMETIMES, LIKE MYSELF, WE NEED A PROFESSIONAL TO LOOK AT THE FRAGMENTS OF THE REFLECTIONS WE SEE OF OURSELVES TO HELP US FIND HOW THEY FIT.
STAY YOUR AMAZING SELF!
(and whatever you do….try make it to the other shore…..you really are worth it)