The Doors are such an iconic band. From their awesome music catalog with liberating messages that saved lives and made babies during the peace and sexual revolution in the 1960's and 70's to the life and death of their troubled and beautiful lead singer, Jim Morrison, they're forever etched in history as one of the greatest bands.
I was first introduced to the band as a boy in elementary school when I heard their classic, "People Are Strange", while watching the 1980's horror classic The Lost Boys with my mother. She always had a knack for introducing my siblings and I to iconic films and artists from the 80's. She lived her early adult life in that time period and the music, film and culture has transcended time barriers and still remains relevant today. I'll always thank her for that.
Regarding this piece, I just feel fucking strange. Some days I think it's all in my head, but most days it's so evident that it can be proven scientifically.
I try not to let things alter my mood and stress impact my outlook, but like most people, that can be hard.
This month I realized that 3 months in I don't like my job. It's the number one place to work according to every revered publication and has great benefits, but at the end of the day I'm not certain it's a great fit.
I experienced a honeymoon phase with the Bay Area, the natural beauty, the "newness" and finally landing some gay friends, but all of those feelings are sailing away.
The truth is, I have a job where I work 10-12 hours a day and commute 3 to 4 hours on top of that. I can go a whole day and not see one person that looks like me and the guys here aren't into black men, black men included.
So when you're dark skinned, HIV positive and living in the Bay, you're essentially the epitome of Ellison's best work.
Reacting to that I found myself doing things I would never do before and connecting with people out of desperation that I probably wouldn't elsewhere.
I started hanging out with an escort and as we all know, birds of a feather flock together. So I started his line of work. I didn't need the money, but I was connecting with him as another gay black man in the area. I wasn't having sex voluntarily so I figured what the hell.
That ended up biting me in the ass, socially. This week two guys that I met online, a fat one I never had any real interest in in the Bay and a "sexually liberated" one that discovered me on xtube that lives in LA that I'll refer to as "smooches" due to his ass tattoos, both attacked me for being an escort. Called me fake, a liar, moral-less and one even said he was disgusted by me.
Well I'll let "Smooches" and the overweight guy go on with their lives. Truthfully one I just wanted sex from, he's a Beyonce stan (hate those) and the other just isn't physically attractive and his personality, needy and aggressive, just makes it worse.
Yeah, I was one of the Lost Boys myself, out here putting a price on my body, but what the hell. How long was I supposed to go without any sex? If I can't get it for free, why not get paid for it?
Moving along, I found myself becoming increasingly more isolated today. A friend of mine is visiting from Chicago this weekend and I couldn't hang out with him because after going to have sex with this guy I met on jack'd that turned out to be married, he and his spouse, who I both fucked, moved here from Atlanta where they met, for work.
Imagine that? Two guys meeting in Atlanta, falling in love and getting married. Take that haters!
I was traveling to visit my friend when I got into a collision this morning that totaled my car. I walked away with minor injuries and no car, so naturally I was in a bad mood today.
Between chubster, smooches, my job and this accident, I just want to go away. Somewhere. Not sure where.
A place where people accept young men with HIV and melanin in their skin as human beings. A place where I don't have to change my value system to fit in like in DC. A place where I can get lost. A place where I can be free.
I think I know where that is, I had the feeling once and I've been chasing it since.
One day I'm hoping to take a bite out of the Big Apple again. Until then faces will keep coming out of the rain and people will continue to forget my name.
- CGN
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Weekend Inspiration: Fighting Words by Charles M. Smith
A couple of weeks ago, a guy here in the Bay Area gave me a book titled, Fighting Words, by Charles M. Smith. It's a collection of essays noting the struggles of gay black men and even though the book had many essays from the 1980's and early 90's, many of the issues from family abuse, unrequited love to acceptance still plague our community today.
Tuesday, December 2, 2014
Too Beautiful For Words
I've always been the kinda guy, that's had a lot to say. I say the things that are on my mind, but you hushed my mouth and stilled me
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Welcome to Heartbreak
If there's an appropriate day to write this, each second is of the essence.
It's his birthday. He would've been 25. It's been a rather trying week and I was putting some lotion on this new tattoo I got in the bathroom at work when I got the text from my aunt. It was a plea to celebrate his life.
Reading the words of the text was painful. Thinking about his face is painful. Thinking about how his departure from my life nine years ago after nine months of suffering in a hospital is painful. The burial the day before my 16th birthday. The beginning of my search for myself, which has been nothing short of an odyssey until this point, has been rather painful.
Last weekend and a dinner table full of friends, mostly new, one old that I used to fuck (yes one of the few that actually reminded in my life after) were having a discussion about love. How it was defined, how we all experienced it and what we seek from it.
Some wanted a monogamous partnership, others experienced infatuation and connection. At the end of the dinner after realizing I sounded rather bitter because I had never experienced the sort of whimsical, romantic love talked about in Nick Sparks movies, songs from the '70's and legendary novels that have stood the test of time; it hit me. What I got from love was loss.
I define love as more than attraction and partnership. Love is eternal, it engulfs you and when you share it with someone you need it like your brain needs oxygen to function. After a few moments of without oxygen, even with the constant flow of blood to the brain, as the levels drop, it decays and ceases to function.
It's a rather morbid way to view my experience right now, but I know that's what has happened. People have come into my life and brought me nothing to sustain my spirit. I look back and found myself giving to others and when it was reciprocated, I didn't know how to receive it because the loss of love has damaged me to the point where I cannot process it's return.
It's not that I don't want to accept it, I can't recognize it to see, feel or taste it anymore. Maybe it's a defense mechanism because I believe loves is something that runs so deep between two people that it kills a part of each other if the other were to ever leave. Maybe it's because no one loves like I do, so when people outside of my closest family members tell me they love me I cannot return the sentiment.
The truth is nine years I learned what it was like to have my heartbroken; my world shattered. That's a pain that has, like love, endured the test of time. If I plan on living I cannot experience that pain again.
I can accept that I'm a broken person that is doing my best to overcome my disability, but if I ever get that kind of love from someone that I didn't grow with and develop an authentic understanding with, then I'm going to be a vegetable in this game.
Until someone comes along and shows me that they are committed to breathing the life into my blood that I lost almost a decade ago, I guess I'm going to be stuck in this vegetable state for the long haul.
- CGN
It's his birthday. He would've been 25. It's been a rather trying week and I was putting some lotion on this new tattoo I got in the bathroom at work when I got the text from my aunt. It was a plea to celebrate his life.
Reading the words of the text was painful. Thinking about his face is painful. Thinking about how his departure from my life nine years ago after nine months of suffering in a hospital is painful. The burial the day before my 16th birthday. The beginning of my search for myself, which has been nothing short of an odyssey until this point, has been rather painful.
Last weekend and a dinner table full of friends, mostly new, one old that I used to fuck (yes one of the few that actually reminded in my life after) were having a discussion about love. How it was defined, how we all experienced it and what we seek from it.
Some wanted a monogamous partnership, others experienced infatuation and connection. At the end of the dinner after realizing I sounded rather bitter because I had never experienced the sort of whimsical, romantic love talked about in Nick Sparks movies, songs from the '70's and legendary novels that have stood the test of time; it hit me. What I got from love was loss.
I define love as more than attraction and partnership. Love is eternal, it engulfs you and when you share it with someone you need it like your brain needs oxygen to function. After a few moments of without oxygen, even with the constant flow of blood to the brain, as the levels drop, it decays and ceases to function.
It's a rather morbid way to view my experience right now, but I know that's what has happened. People have come into my life and brought me nothing to sustain my spirit. I look back and found myself giving to others and when it was reciprocated, I didn't know how to receive it because the loss of love has damaged me to the point where I cannot process it's return.
It's not that I don't want to accept it, I can't recognize it to see, feel or taste it anymore. Maybe it's a defense mechanism because I believe loves is something that runs so deep between two people that it kills a part of each other if the other were to ever leave. Maybe it's because no one loves like I do, so when people outside of my closest family members tell me they love me I cannot return the sentiment.
The truth is nine years I learned what it was like to have my heartbroken; my world shattered. That's a pain that has, like love, endured the test of time. If I plan on living I cannot experience that pain again.
I can accept that I'm a broken person that is doing my best to overcome my disability, but if I ever get that kind of love from someone that I didn't grow with and develop an authentic understanding with, then I'm going to be a vegetable in this game.
Until someone comes along and shows me that they are committed to breathing the life into my blood that I lost almost a decade ago, I guess I'm going to be stuck in this vegetable state for the long haul.
- CGN
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Iris
It's a cheesy 90's song with a message that's far too obvious to be clever, but Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls, ironically featured in the film City of Angels, really connects to this next post.
The fact is I don't want the world to see me, because I don't think that they'd understand.
The world, in this instance, would have to be a guy named "SEM".
"SEM" is a grad student, PROUD black gay man and an advocate for the use of PrEP, the preventative measure to protect against HIV transmission for the fortunate ones of us that are still negative, but want to play with the rest of us.
The reason I'm writing a post about "SEM" isn't because we had some sexual encounter; I didn't expose him to my tainted bodily fluids. The last night of the HIV conference in San Diego last month, I spoke with him on the phone about a few of my frustrations with being gay and black.
Now you're probably wondering why I decided to talk on the phone with someone I have never met and barely know about something so personal and raw, but it's because of how he presented himself of social media. He's intelligent, opinionated, informed and passionate about the subject.
In many ways, I want to be passionate and proud to be black and gay myself. So I decided to take a chance and lay it on him why I haven't been feeling the sentiments about my sexuality that he and his friends do.
In the typical pattern of tragedy with my life, I was wrong.
Not only did he not understand where I was coming from, he took anecdotal evidence from my blog and what I was presented on a former facebook page, despite having access to my authentic and more reserved one, to describe my situation as a calamity brought on myself by no one other than myself.
He told me that the reason that men consistently used me for sex was because I subconsciously wanted it. By talking about sex so candidly and freely, I invited it.
Additionally, I had no room to feel upset about my state of affairs because in fact, I AM NOT comfortable with my "true self" and living "in my truth".
He actually said the words, "you mean to tell me that you are comfortable living in your truth?"
Now the way I typed that may read as a gentle and honest questions, but his tone was filled with a bias and reluctance to listen to anything I was trying to convey to him. I was dismissed.
He even told me that I should care about PrEP and what it means to a community that was left me on the outside. I was infuriated.
I wasn't angry because he was telling me some truth that I was unwilling to accept, I was angry because despite telling him my story, and my experience, he didn't care.
With all of his education, experience and exposure to the community, he didn't care that I found out my status when my CD4 count was 8. He didn't care that my experience living in a transient, hypersexual city like Washington where men drive their behaviors underground and have risky sex contributed to my infection, my feelings of low self worth and overall dissatisfaction with my community.
He just didn't care and to make it worse, he let it be known that he didn't care.
His words were like daggers to the most sensitive places on my body. When I got off the phone with him that Sunday night, after staying up past my "bedtime". I cried.
For the first time in a long time, I cried. It was also the first time someone made me cry. Not because they were right, but because they were wrong and didn't care enough to listen when I was as open I've ever been.
I felt betrayed. Betrayed by myself for being that open with someone and betrayed because of all the strangers I've opened up to for understanding, he was the first one I EXPECTED empathy from.
Over the past few weeks we've had a few exchanges via text and a phone call with his apology, but I don't forgive him and I never will. For my sanity, I have to learn from him. Learn the dangers of trusting someone based on their "experience".
It's like going to a doctor when you have an issue that was need to be treated and expecting the doctor to have open ears about your pain and they pull out a textbook and find a diagnosis that just doesn't work for you.
Only this doctor was for my own sanity.
He had my blog address, which I doubt he's ever read and probably never will, so I'm more than comfortable writing this here. I'm comfortable not only because I've told him how I felt, but I need to put it down in these words so I never forget.
In the words of the Goo Goo Dolls:
"I just want you to know who I am."
- CGN
The fact is I don't want the world to see me, because I don't think that they'd understand.
The world, in this instance, would have to be a guy named "SEM".
"SEM" is a grad student, PROUD black gay man and an advocate for the use of PrEP, the preventative measure to protect against HIV transmission for the fortunate ones of us that are still negative, but want to play with the rest of us.
The reason I'm writing a post about "SEM" isn't because we had some sexual encounter; I didn't expose him to my tainted bodily fluids. The last night of the HIV conference in San Diego last month, I spoke with him on the phone about a few of my frustrations with being gay and black.
Now you're probably wondering why I decided to talk on the phone with someone I have never met and barely know about something so personal and raw, but it's because of how he presented himself of social media. He's intelligent, opinionated, informed and passionate about the subject.
In many ways, I want to be passionate and proud to be black and gay myself. So I decided to take a chance and lay it on him why I haven't been feeling the sentiments about my sexuality that he and his friends do.
In the typical pattern of tragedy with my life, I was wrong.
Not only did he not understand where I was coming from, he took anecdotal evidence from my blog and what I was presented on a former facebook page, despite having access to my authentic and more reserved one, to describe my situation as a calamity brought on myself by no one other than myself.
He told me that the reason that men consistently used me for sex was because I subconsciously wanted it. By talking about sex so candidly and freely, I invited it.
Additionally, I had no room to feel upset about my state of affairs because in fact, I AM NOT comfortable with my "true self" and living "in my truth".
He actually said the words, "you mean to tell me that you are comfortable living in your truth?"
Now the way I typed that may read as a gentle and honest questions, but his tone was filled with a bias and reluctance to listen to anything I was trying to convey to him. I was dismissed.
He even told me that I should care about PrEP and what it means to a community that was left me on the outside. I was infuriated.
I wasn't angry because he was telling me some truth that I was unwilling to accept, I was angry because despite telling him my story, and my experience, he didn't care.
With all of his education, experience and exposure to the community, he didn't care that I found out my status when my CD4 count was 8. He didn't care that my experience living in a transient, hypersexual city like Washington where men drive their behaviors underground and have risky sex contributed to my infection, my feelings of low self worth and overall dissatisfaction with my community.
He just didn't care and to make it worse, he let it be known that he didn't care.
His words were like daggers to the most sensitive places on my body. When I got off the phone with him that Sunday night, after staying up past my "bedtime". I cried.
For the first time in a long time, I cried. It was also the first time someone made me cry. Not because they were right, but because they were wrong and didn't care enough to listen when I was as open I've ever been.
I felt betrayed. Betrayed by myself for being that open with someone and betrayed because of all the strangers I've opened up to for understanding, he was the first one I EXPECTED empathy from.
Over the past few weeks we've had a few exchanges via text and a phone call with his apology, but I don't forgive him and I never will. For my sanity, I have to learn from him. Learn the dangers of trusting someone based on their "experience".
It's like going to a doctor when you have an issue that was need to be treated and expecting the doctor to have open ears about your pain and they pull out a textbook and find a diagnosis that just doesn't work for you.
Only this doctor was for my own sanity.
He had my blog address, which I doubt he's ever read and probably never will, so I'm more than comfortable writing this here. I'm comfortable not only because I've told him how I felt, but I need to put it down in these words so I never forget.
In the words of the Goo Goo Dolls:
"I just want you to know who I am."
- CGN
Monday, November 3, 2014
3005...more like 2014
I love discovering new music; especially if the beats are mellow mixed with some singing and rapping (clearly Drake is my bae for life). However if you look at my iPhone you'll probably find that my music selection is pretty vacant of anything particularly "new".
Lots of Kanye, lots of Drake, lots of random mash ups, some U2, the best of Michael and even more of Prince. I like what I like, what can I say?
However since I moved out here I discovered that I have a new found appreciate for Childish Gambino. Not because of his lyrics, I actually don't know what he raps about, but his beats are cool. It also helps that I've picked up a massive marijuana habit since I moved Cali (how cliche of me).
*you didn't think I was really that cool did you? lol
Anyway, I write that to say that I found Childish in a more intimate setting that his Governor's Ball performance earlier this year, but with this guy I met out here in the Bay. I'll call him "hippie", because dammit I think that's what he is.
He's ivy league educated, has locs down to his ass, he's light skinned and slender and from the DMV.
Overall he's a chill dude. He knows a lot and has no issue letting you know how smart he is (notice I used the word smart not intelligent, although he no doubt is both).
We started off well, he met my cousin, we talked about the prison industrial complex, talked about Detroit, shared a bit of what we wanted out of life and agreed to hang out 1 on 1. He took me bar hopping around Oakland, we ended up back at his place where he cuddled with me and watched TV.
Dammit did it go down from there.
We met on jackd and I don't know what it is about me, my passive demeanor, my face or physical shape (damn this fat ass), but unless I explicitly state how I get down dudes always think I'm a bottom. So "Hippie" did too.
He ended up smoking me out and then subsequently trying to bang me out over and over again. Now in my mind, I wasn't going for it so I didn't care either way and I was totally for continuing our friendship.
That's where my emotional intelligence took a hit. At no point did I take into account that my rejection of his attempts to "court" and fuck me came across like I was a tease or not interested.
Honestly I just didn't care. If you want sex out of me nowadays, you're going to have to work a hell of a lot harder than the lucky dudes before. If you want to top me? You might be waiting until 3005 for that to happen.
I did start to notice something change in him though. He became a little distant and when we would actually meet he just wouldn't say shit. We had awkward silences and man were they awkward. You could almost cut the tension in the air with a knife, I didn't get why but there was certainly an elephant in the room and I did not see it.
So as time passed and I've been out here two months, our "friendship" has virtually died. A few dry "how are you?" and "wyd" texts have led to nothing. We just don't talk. No hard feelings, but that's how the cookie crumbled.
It wasn't until I met up with this guy, after busting my ass to reconnect with him after this east coast married asshole duped me into tag teaming him, did I realize a pattern in DMV guys that "hippie" also had. He just isn't genuine.
Granted there were a few red flags. The fact that he is bisexual, he is so invested in the term queer, he confessed to me that he slept around for a long time with men and women, he even told me that he "realized his power" in friendships/relationships due to the fact that he is "good" at sex and has a big penis (here we go nigga).
He ran the same game of "let's be friends" on the bottom kat and ended up smashing and never calling again. Same old games guys used to play in DC. Lead you on to beleive that your relationship with them is more than what it is and more than what they actually want; sex.
Granted I don't mind the occassional NSA hookup, but it's the emotional invest that makes it so deceptive. It's like dude...just be honest.
It made me realize that there are some truly evil people in the world. Whatever happened to them to make them that way, they never addressed so they're just fucked up. The worst part about bad people is that they ruin good people.
It happened to me once and I damn sure won't project that on anyone else. I've made some serious progress in that arena, but I've still got some scars.
For me at least, I'm not going to scar anyone in my own healing process. So adios "hippie" and good luck finding yourself and whatever the hell you're looking for. I just won't be around until 3005 to find out, I'm dipping out in 2014.
- CGN
Lots of Kanye, lots of Drake, lots of random mash ups, some U2, the best of Michael and even more of Prince. I like what I like, what can I say?
However since I moved out here I discovered that I have a new found appreciate for Childish Gambino. Not because of his lyrics, I actually don't know what he raps about, but his beats are cool. It also helps that I've picked up a massive marijuana habit since I moved Cali (how cliche of me).
*you didn't think I was really that cool did you? lol
Anyway, I write that to say that I found Childish in a more intimate setting that his Governor's Ball performance earlier this year, but with this guy I met out here in the Bay. I'll call him "hippie", because dammit I think that's what he is.
He's ivy league educated, has locs down to his ass, he's light skinned and slender and from the DMV.
Overall he's a chill dude. He knows a lot and has no issue letting you know how smart he is (notice I used the word smart not intelligent, although he no doubt is both).
We started off well, he met my cousin, we talked about the prison industrial complex, talked about Detroit, shared a bit of what we wanted out of life and agreed to hang out 1 on 1. He took me bar hopping around Oakland, we ended up back at his place where he cuddled with me and watched TV.
Dammit did it go down from there.
We met on jackd and I don't know what it is about me, my passive demeanor, my face or physical shape (damn this fat ass), but unless I explicitly state how I get down dudes always think I'm a bottom. So "Hippie" did too.
He ended up smoking me out and then subsequently trying to bang me out over and over again. Now in my mind, I wasn't going for it so I didn't care either way and I was totally for continuing our friendship.
That's where my emotional intelligence took a hit. At no point did I take into account that my rejection of his attempts to "court" and fuck me came across like I was a tease or not interested.
Honestly I just didn't care. If you want sex out of me nowadays, you're going to have to work a hell of a lot harder than the lucky dudes before. If you want to top me? You might be waiting until 3005 for that to happen.
I did start to notice something change in him though. He became a little distant and when we would actually meet he just wouldn't say shit. We had awkward silences and man were they awkward. You could almost cut the tension in the air with a knife, I didn't get why but there was certainly an elephant in the room and I did not see it.
So as time passed and I've been out here two months, our "friendship" has virtually died. A few dry "how are you?" and "wyd" texts have led to nothing. We just don't talk. No hard feelings, but that's how the cookie crumbled.
It wasn't until I met up with this guy, after busting my ass to reconnect with him after this east coast married asshole duped me into tag teaming him, did I realize a pattern in DMV guys that "hippie" also had. He just isn't genuine.
Granted there were a few red flags. The fact that he is bisexual, he is so invested in the term queer, he confessed to me that he slept around for a long time with men and women, he even told me that he "realized his power" in friendships/relationships due to the fact that he is "good" at sex and has a big penis (here we go nigga).
He ran the same game of "let's be friends" on the bottom kat and ended up smashing and never calling again. Same old games guys used to play in DC. Lead you on to beleive that your relationship with them is more than what it is and more than what they actually want; sex.
Granted I don't mind the occassional NSA hookup, but it's the emotional invest that makes it so deceptive. It's like dude...just be honest.
It made me realize that there are some truly evil people in the world. Whatever happened to them to make them that way, they never addressed so they're just fucked up. The worst part about bad people is that they ruin good people.
It happened to me once and I damn sure won't project that on anyone else. I've made some serious progress in that arena, but I've still got some scars.
For me at least, I'm not going to scar anyone in my own healing process. So adios "hippie" and good luck finding yourself and whatever the hell you're looking for. I just won't be around until 3005 to find out, I'm dipping out in 2014.
- CGN
Over My Head
Hello,
If you read this blog or ever used to, it's evident that I took a hiatus from posting. It wasn't for any purpose other than I just didn't know what to write about. I hadn't lost my voice, but I sure spent a lot of time rethinking, over thinking and over analyzing what the impact of my words should be on a reader.
Unfortunately I did that to the point of paralysis and ended up letting tomorrow turn into next week, into next month and almost next year.
In my absence, I've had a couple of life changes. I moved across the country to what used to be the hub of gay progress, the San Francisco Bay Area, got a new job and reinvented what I wanted to be in a new place where I didn't know anyone.
In that process, I realized I was tired. Tired of exploiting myself for "followers" on x-rated social networks. Tired of having sex with strangers just so I could record it and share with other people that do the same on facebook/vine and every other channel that I know of. Just damn tired.
I can't say that all of that was in vain though; I "met" a couple of people that I was able to somewhat confide in about my situation in hopes of clarity and understanding.
I found myself opening up to complete strangers about my HIV status, issues with dating and overall disappoint with gay black life (from my experience anyway).
I found it easier to be vulnerable than it was to face the reality that people don't give a shit about what you have to say. Furthermore, when they do give a shit, because of different life experiences and backgrounds, they just don't fucking get it.
It's hella (yes I said it lol) frustrating! Some days it feels isolating.
I can't say that my hiatus was all negative though. By changing just how my jackd page was presented, removing all sexual innuendo and nudes (yes even the "locked" pics) and removing my sexual position off of my page, I got a lot of people that were not looking to jump my bones.
To avoid inundating you with stories about each guy in this post, I just wanted to let you know I'm breathing, I'm back and I have some things to say.
- CGN
If you read this blog or ever used to, it's evident that I took a hiatus from posting. It wasn't for any purpose other than I just didn't know what to write about. I hadn't lost my voice, but I sure spent a lot of time rethinking, over thinking and over analyzing what the impact of my words should be on a reader.
Unfortunately I did that to the point of paralysis and ended up letting tomorrow turn into next week, into next month and almost next year.
In my absence, I've had a couple of life changes. I moved across the country to what used to be the hub of gay progress, the San Francisco Bay Area, got a new job and reinvented what I wanted to be in a new place where I didn't know anyone.
In that process, I realized I was tired. Tired of exploiting myself for "followers" on x-rated social networks. Tired of having sex with strangers just so I could record it and share with other people that do the same on facebook/vine and every other channel that I know of. Just damn tired.
I can't say that all of that was in vain though; I "met" a couple of people that I was able to somewhat confide in about my situation in hopes of clarity and understanding.
I found myself opening up to complete strangers about my HIV status, issues with dating and overall disappoint with gay black life (from my experience anyway).
I found it easier to be vulnerable than it was to face the reality that people don't give a shit about what you have to say. Furthermore, when they do give a shit, because of different life experiences and backgrounds, they just don't fucking get it.
It's hella (yes I said it lol) frustrating! Some days it feels isolating.
I can't say that my hiatus was all negative though. By changing just how my jackd page was presented, removing all sexual innuendo and nudes (yes even the "locked" pics) and removing my sexual position off of my page, I got a lot of people that were not looking to jump my bones.
To avoid inundating you with stories about each guy in this post, I just wanted to let you know I'm breathing, I'm back and I have some things to say.
- CGN
Saturday, May 10, 2014
ESPN shows Michael Sam celebrating with tears and a kiss for his boyfriend (via Washington Post)
Congrats to Michael Sam. You know...the big, burly, fucked up hairline having football player from bumblefuck Texas that twirls in St. Louis gay bars and likes the poop shoot?
Well he's been drafted to the NFL after all! Check out him making out with his yt boo. Get it Sammy!
Well he's been drafted to the NFL after all! Check out him making out with his yt boo. Get it Sammy!
What's Love Got to Do With It?
"Oh baby, things are changin' now and I can't tell...
where we'll from here on out....ohhh its hell"
Yeah I know, its been a while, but hey I haven't had much to say.
Any who I'm back...I think lol. I was in the car earlier and this Gary Clark Jr. song was playing and it got me thinking about all the ways that I might myself have been changing; the new experiences, new feelings and new outlook I've had since starting this blog and growing in this city.
When I first started writing, I thought I knew everything about myself; that I was a slutty sack of shit with no self control that hated myself because I hate gays.
Well..turns out that's only partially true.
I don't hate gays and I'm not a sack of shit, but I am slutty; and to be perfectly honest, that's ok.
I've run into all these guys that have expressed an interest in me and tried to convince me why I was worth dating, attractive and etc. All the while I'd been rejecting their advances, not because they were bad people (PSA: NONE OF YOU ARE BAD PEOPLE).
I realised (feeling British) that I, CGN, had been lying to myself about what I really want and how I actually feel.
I've been defining myself by some greater moral standard and applying a code that doesn't work for me.
I don't want to be in a relationship and I don't see anything wrong with that. However, I'd been pretending it was impossible for me to get in one because of other people, when in fact, I've been the road block based on my own interests.
I read an article two years ago during Valentine's day in the Washington Post about how 1 in 3 Americans is living single and never finds the one. It may sound bleak to many people, but in my world. There's more to it than that.
I find myself being more honest with who I am and what I actually want that ever before and it makes me happy.
I started to analyze this one night I was on the phone with a guy that I care about, as a friend, and he mentioned that no one is interested in him and blah fucking blah.
Then I brought up some points.
I asked him:
1) What he's been doing interesting that would make him worth getting to know?
2) What type of people he likes and why?
3) What he hopes a relationship will bring to his life?
After telling me all superficial qualities of his perfect man (fit, not fat or fem, educated and a rigid sexual position) he told me someone he could share his life with.
I responded:
If your dick is longer than your resume, you shouldn't be concerned about dating.
If you haven't put a stamp on your passport or, hell, HAVE a passport; you shouldn't complain about being single.
Don't rob yourself from experiencing life. Have something to share before you want to share your life with someone else.
Outside of the gay bullshit, I'm a happy person. I love my family, I love my friends and my life experiences have been incredible; wouldn't trade any of it for the world. I don't need someone to complete me and I've been my own worst enemy when it comes to being unsure of who I am.
All my life I've been confident and dogmatic in my approach to living and by allowing other outside views to shape my world; I feel into a depression.
If it doesn't work for my world; quiet frankly, it doesn't work.
I don't have to change for anyone and you don't either.
If love is what you're looking for at the moment, I'm not knocking it, hell, I applaud you. I just challenge you to make sure that you're looking for it for the right reason, at the right time. If not, you'll do nothing but hurt yourself and someone else in the end.
- CGN
where we'll from here on out....ohhh its hell"
Yeah I know, its been a while, but hey I haven't had much to say.
Any who I'm back...I think lol. I was in the car earlier and this Gary Clark Jr. song was playing and it got me thinking about all the ways that I might myself have been changing; the new experiences, new feelings and new outlook I've had since starting this blog and growing in this city.
When I first started writing, I thought I knew everything about myself; that I was a slutty sack of shit with no self control that hated myself because I hate gays.
Well..turns out that's only partially true.
I don't hate gays and I'm not a sack of shit, but I am slutty; and to be perfectly honest, that's ok.
I've run into all these guys that have expressed an interest in me and tried to convince me why I was worth dating, attractive and etc. All the while I'd been rejecting their advances, not because they were bad people (PSA: NONE OF YOU ARE BAD PEOPLE).
I realised (feeling British) that I, CGN, had been lying to myself about what I really want and how I actually feel.
I've been defining myself by some greater moral standard and applying a code that doesn't work for me.
I don't want to be in a relationship and I don't see anything wrong with that. However, I'd been pretending it was impossible for me to get in one because of other people, when in fact, I've been the road block based on my own interests.
I read an article two years ago during Valentine's day in the Washington Post about how 1 in 3 Americans is living single and never finds the one. It may sound bleak to many people, but in my world. There's more to it than that.
I find myself being more honest with who I am and what I actually want that ever before and it makes me happy.
I started to analyze this one night I was on the phone with a guy that I care about, as a friend, and he mentioned that no one is interested in him and blah fucking blah.
Then I brought up some points.
I asked him:
1) What he's been doing interesting that would make him worth getting to know?
2) What type of people he likes and why?
3) What he hopes a relationship will bring to his life?
After telling me all superficial qualities of his perfect man (fit, not fat or fem, educated and a rigid sexual position) he told me someone he could share his life with.
I responded:
If your dick is longer than your resume, you shouldn't be concerned about dating.
If you haven't put a stamp on your passport or, hell, HAVE a passport; you shouldn't complain about being single.
Don't rob yourself from experiencing life. Have something to share before you want to share your life with someone else.
Outside of the gay bullshit, I'm a happy person. I love my family, I love my friends and my life experiences have been incredible; wouldn't trade any of it for the world. I don't need someone to complete me and I've been my own worst enemy when it comes to being unsure of who I am.
All my life I've been confident and dogmatic in my approach to living and by allowing other outside views to shape my world; I feel into a depression.
If it doesn't work for my world; quiet frankly, it doesn't work.
I don't have to change for anyone and you don't either.
If love is what you're looking for at the moment, I'm not knocking it, hell, I applaud you. I just challenge you to make sure that you're looking for it for the right reason, at the right time. If not, you'll do nothing but hurt yourself and someone else in the end.
- CGN
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Somewhere I Belong
Sunday was a pivotal moment for me.
I was scrolling through vine, well vine stalking, this guy and I happened to see him and added him as a friend on kik (don't ask me why I still have it).
Turns out despite being a total sleezy, ass loving freak, he's a handsome, articulate normal guy.
We chatted for a few hours about life and sex, of course, and I decided that he was the coolest person I've met...well ever.
He not only was sure of himself, he has the world going for him and has fun living his life. I was so taken aback by his easygoing and confident nature that I started to question myself.
My feelings, my actions and my intentions when it comes to interacting with gays.
Time and time again guys have told me, "you get what you put out". So what I have nude pics, it's jackd. I'm not displaying my face for the professional lurking workforce to see, besides, even when I did I got the same horndog responses, IF NOT, more.
The worst was "what u into". TOP n***, can a profile get a read anymore? *kanye voice*
Back to the guy.
I was so intrigued by his vivacious sexual appetite and vouyerism that I asked him how he met all the guys in the videos he sent me. He said "facebook, instagram, xtube, vine etc". Basically all the networks I use.
The problem is my twitter, instagram and facebook are very tailored to who I am. The real me. The one that graduated college in four years with no student debt. The one that volunteers, hangs with friends that don't know my sexuality and travels the world.
I'm also a silly guy. I don't take shirtless pics and post thirst traps. Hell I don't even have a real following of gays.
So what did he do for me?
He dropped a secret bomb on me that changed my life; he told me there were secret XXX facebook groups.
I was stunned, but more so curious and embarrassed that I was bulging through my pants.
So I added him as a facebook friend and showed me a world that I never knew existed.
There were guys, like me. Young, attractive, driven and HORNY as all fuck. Posting videos of them freaking one on one, in groups and planning to meet up for hot sex.
I've never felt more at home in this community than I have this week...but I wonder...am I wrong?
Am I wrong for the perpetual lust? Wrong for wanting sex just to make videos and hang with these people? Am I walking into another vacuum of emotional disappointment?
Maybe. The truth is I don't know, but I want to try this thing.
I immediately though of a hookup when I was interning in New York with this Columbia grad student, Sean, Shawn or whatever, who was my age now when I was a precious 20 years old.
He told me that by his age, 23/24, your hormones slow and its natural to be hot in the pants at a young age Awww I miss him...I just sucked his dick because it was long and he was nice, but whatever, it was fun.
I got to thinking, I'm that age now and PASSING it as the days go by and I'm as horny as ever. Will it end? When do I start to change?
I guess time will tell. Until then, I'm about to check my "other" facebook.
- CGN
I was scrolling through vine, well vine stalking, this guy and I happened to see him and added him as a friend on kik (don't ask me why I still have it).
Turns out despite being a total sleezy, ass loving freak, he's a handsome, articulate normal guy.
We chatted for a few hours about life and sex, of course, and I decided that he was the coolest person I've met...well ever.
He not only was sure of himself, he has the world going for him and has fun living his life. I was so taken aback by his easygoing and confident nature that I started to question myself.
My feelings, my actions and my intentions when it comes to interacting with gays.
Time and time again guys have told me, "you get what you put out". So what I have nude pics, it's jackd. I'm not displaying my face for the professional lurking workforce to see, besides, even when I did I got the same horndog responses, IF NOT, more.
The worst was "what u into". TOP n***, can a profile get a read anymore? *kanye voice*
Back to the guy.
I was so intrigued by his vivacious sexual appetite and vouyerism that I asked him how he met all the guys in the videos he sent me. He said "facebook, instagram, xtube, vine etc". Basically all the networks I use.
The problem is my twitter, instagram and facebook are very tailored to who I am. The real me. The one that graduated college in four years with no student debt. The one that volunteers, hangs with friends that don't know my sexuality and travels the world.
I'm also a silly guy. I don't take shirtless pics and post thirst traps. Hell I don't even have a real following of gays.
So what did he do for me?
He dropped a secret bomb on me that changed my life; he told me there were secret XXX facebook groups.
I was stunned, but more so curious and embarrassed that I was bulging through my pants.
So I added him as a facebook friend and showed me a world that I never knew existed.
There were guys, like me. Young, attractive, driven and HORNY as all fuck. Posting videos of them freaking one on one, in groups and planning to meet up for hot sex.
I've never felt more at home in this community than I have this week...but I wonder...am I wrong?
Am I wrong for the perpetual lust? Wrong for wanting sex just to make videos and hang with these people? Am I walking into another vacuum of emotional disappointment?
Maybe. The truth is I don't know, but I want to try this thing.
I immediately though of a hookup when I was interning in New York with this Columbia grad student, Sean, Shawn or whatever, who was my age now when I was a precious 20 years old.
He told me that by his age, 23/24, your hormones slow and its natural to be hot in the pants at a young age Awww I miss him...I just sucked his dick because it was long and he was nice, but whatever, it was fun.
I got to thinking, I'm that age now and PASSING it as the days go by and I'm as horny as ever. Will it end? When do I start to change?
I guess time will tell. Until then, I'm about to check my "other" facebook.
- CGN
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Numb
Sigh....I've been busy since I last posted.
Work has been productive, I've been interviewing for new jobs and I'm PRAYING I land one (GOD if you're listening or reading, please forgive and save me). Even my romantic life has seen some sparks this third week of the month of love.
First I reconnected with "JC" over drinks on Wednesday night and yesterday I went out twice. Once to an off the wall but really cool outdoorsy date with this guy I met last summer while running. The second was with this little lamb that's been asking to spend time with me.
However, the dates weren't the beginning of me going back to being an active homo. I hadn't had sex since December and it all ended Tuesday after a hookup with a guy I smashed last year.
It was hardly romantic. I walked in, he was smoking, had a blue light on in his room, got on all fours and took a pounding from the back, on his back, the side and froggy style before swallowing me.
Sex #2 was a hookup after work Friday. Never met, don't even know his name, I had a hard-on on the way home from work and stopped at his place for some doggystyle play.
Then there was this Sunday funday. I was relaxing when the couple I messed with last December in their party invited me over for yet another menage trios.
I was feeling good, confident in most of my decisions until I talked to this guy about what I did. He didn't slut sham me, but told me I was playing russian roulette once again and there was nothing I could say.
The truth is I wanted to distance myself and dabble in what I was used to do...but that just sucks. I feel myself becoming paralyzed by my confusion, conscious of my decisions and lust..yet disappointed in my actions.
I feel like a balloon that reaches its capacity with helium where the softest touch emits the loudest and most annoying sound. I'm holding too much in and its numbing. I've made plans for some dates this week and I'm going to take things one day at a time...last night I saw something and it left an indelible mark on me...I'll have to write about that later.
- CGN
Work has been productive, I've been interviewing for new jobs and I'm PRAYING I land one (GOD if you're listening or reading, please forgive and save me). Even my romantic life has seen some sparks this third week of the month of love.
First I reconnected with "JC" over drinks on Wednesday night and yesterday I went out twice. Once to an off the wall but really cool outdoorsy date with this guy I met last summer while running. The second was with this little lamb that's been asking to spend time with me.
However, the dates weren't the beginning of me going back to being an active homo. I hadn't had sex since December and it all ended Tuesday after a hookup with a guy I smashed last year.
It was hardly romantic. I walked in, he was smoking, had a blue light on in his room, got on all fours and took a pounding from the back, on his back, the side and froggy style before swallowing me.
Sex #2 was a hookup after work Friday. Never met, don't even know his name, I had a hard-on on the way home from work and stopped at his place for some doggystyle play.
Then there was this Sunday funday. I was relaxing when the couple I messed with last December in their party invited me over for yet another menage trios.
I was feeling good, confident in most of my decisions until I talked to this guy about what I did. He didn't slut sham me, but told me I was playing russian roulette once again and there was nothing I could say.
The truth is I wanted to distance myself and dabble in what I was used to do...but that just sucks. I feel myself becoming paralyzed by my confusion, conscious of my decisions and lust..yet disappointed in my actions.
I feel like a balloon that reaches its capacity with helium where the softest touch emits the loudest and most annoying sound. I'm holding too much in and its numbing. I've made plans for some dates this week and I'm going to take things one day at a time...last night I saw something and it left an indelible mark on me...I'll have to write about that later.
- CGN
Monday, February 10, 2014
We Don't Need Another "Hero"
Michael Sam.
I don't need to link to it. You can google the name if you've been living under some sort of rock. So this is where we are as a group. Fighting for marriage equality (well the elite gays that benefit are at least) and having gay "heroes" pop up to let the world know that we exist.
Yay. Whoo...hoo.
"I may be goin' ta hell in yo eyes, I may be broke, Beyonce may neva write a song about me, but dammit we HERE!"
Thank you for the monologue of homo triumph, but let's talk about the ugly side of things.
I read an article about former, now jailed, porn star Mike Dozier, fucking a 14 year old and supposedly not informing the minor of his HIV positive status.
Let's break this shit down point by point:
1) We have a 14 year-old on jack'd flirting with an attractive 33 year-old and either soliciting sex OR accepting a sexual solicitation.
2) We have a 33 year-old man that supports himself by defiling himself on camera with presumably no retirement options or health care coverage, if he has any now, after he ends his career.
3) The adult is HIV positive, the minor allegedly was not.
4 They had sex and now its a problem.
Well I hate to break it to you folks, but it was a problem at number 1.
Why on earth would a 14 year-old be on jack'd, a "social network for gays" (don't get me started on that shit) be flirting with a 33 year-old?
I'm not shaming the victim or excusing the adult, but let's examine this, why?
My issue with the gay right's "movement" other than comparing itself to the "black rights struggle" is the ridiculous and contradictory nature of it. We consider milestones famous, rich and people with access coming out.
The politics behind this is to show people that are closeted its "ok to be gay" and you are not alone. Existence is a form a resistance..what the fuck ever.
Then when people come out, what's next? Do we magically find other gays that are relationship oriented and live happily ever after? Do we form a strong community that is loving, non-discriminatory or exploitative for societal advancement?
Novel ideas, but they aren't reality.
The reality is, we bring people into another place where they are ostracized, alienated and just as vulnerable as they were when they were in the closet.
Take this 14 year-old and substitute him with any other young boy on jack'd, BGC, a4a, scruff, grindr or whatever else that is posting pictures of his face and noticing that those people get looked over. Not only that; he, because of his age and horniness, is drawn to the scores of shirtless and nude profiles competing for the same number of limited eyes.
Its simply human processing, the eye goes for what it finds attractive. In our community, that's dick, ass and abs. All else and I mean also is secondary.
I don't know the kid's story, but say he had his face up and nude private pics and he showed them to this porn star. I'm sure the XXX actor didn't have "I'm looking for a long lasting love" on his page, and they decided to hook up after exchanging their pics.
The boy already lied about his age because of the app's requirement to be 18, but Apple says people have to be 17 to download it (huh? another post, another time). So they fucked.
What would make a young boy do that?
Well we have programmed gay people to show one another what we value. Not your face, your accomplishments, but your body.
So we place mental traps for young people early on that tell them what's important, we have defined our lifestyle with sex. If you disagree, google a black pride or any pride and tell me what you see. Nudity, parties that invite "celebrities" from the adult world and well known sexual gatherings.
If we truly want an AIDS free generation we have to change our focus from sex. Instead of congratulating Jason Collins for coming out or Michael Sam, why not spotlight orgs fighting the virus? Oh...it only affects young blacks and latinos...duh how could I forget?
If we want to set a good example for young people, give them an outlet. Why can't GLAAD pay for the development of an app that is geared toward teens, sponsor teen workshops on safe sex and boosting our self esteem?
We ignore the fact that people that don't have the "big dick", are hung or have great abs just don't feel attractive. Even if they have those things, that's all they feel makes them valuable as gay men and women. Empower people instead of making them feel alienated for not taking shirtless selfies that say "good morning" on instagram to get likes.
If we don't act so, we'll just perpetuate the cycle of using the same oppressive tactics men use against women to make them feel less valuable when they use things other than their minds to attract people and further dilute the cause for real "progress".
I wrote about secluding myself in a prior post and shit like this is why. We admire all the wrong things and hope them on a pedestal while so many of us are alienated and suffer.
I don't know man...it'd be a beautiful day when the word gay actually held its meaning when describing our people.
- CGN
I don't need to link to it. You can google the name if you've been living under some sort of rock. So this is where we are as a group. Fighting for marriage equality (well the elite gays that benefit are at least) and having gay "heroes" pop up to let the world know that we exist.
Yay. Whoo...hoo.
"I may be goin' ta hell in yo eyes, I may be broke, Beyonce may neva write a song about me, but dammit we HERE!"
Thank you for the monologue of homo triumph, but let's talk about the ugly side of things.
I read an article about former, now jailed, porn star Mike Dozier, fucking a 14 year old and supposedly not informing the minor of his HIV positive status.
Let's break this shit down point by point:
1) We have a 14 year-old on jack'd flirting with an attractive 33 year-old and either soliciting sex OR accepting a sexual solicitation.
2) We have a 33 year-old man that supports himself by defiling himself on camera with presumably no retirement options or health care coverage, if he has any now, after he ends his career.
3) The adult is HIV positive, the minor allegedly was not.
4 They had sex and now its a problem.
Well I hate to break it to you folks, but it was a problem at number 1.
Why on earth would a 14 year-old be on jack'd, a "social network for gays" (don't get me started on that shit) be flirting with a 33 year-old?
I'm not shaming the victim or excusing the adult, but let's examine this, why?
My issue with the gay right's "movement" other than comparing itself to the "black rights struggle" is the ridiculous and contradictory nature of it. We consider milestones famous, rich and people with access coming out.
The politics behind this is to show people that are closeted its "ok to be gay" and you are not alone. Existence is a form a resistance..what the fuck ever.
Then when people come out, what's next? Do we magically find other gays that are relationship oriented and live happily ever after? Do we form a strong community that is loving, non-discriminatory or exploitative for societal advancement?
Novel ideas, but they aren't reality.
The reality is, we bring people into another place where they are ostracized, alienated and just as vulnerable as they were when they were in the closet.
Take this 14 year-old and substitute him with any other young boy on jack'd, BGC, a4a, scruff, grindr or whatever else that is posting pictures of his face and noticing that those people get looked over. Not only that; he, because of his age and horniness, is drawn to the scores of shirtless and nude profiles competing for the same number of limited eyes.
Its simply human processing, the eye goes for what it finds attractive. In our community, that's dick, ass and abs. All else and I mean also is secondary.
I don't know the kid's story, but say he had his face up and nude private pics and he showed them to this porn star. I'm sure the XXX actor didn't have "I'm looking for a long lasting love" on his page, and they decided to hook up after exchanging their pics.
The boy already lied about his age because of the app's requirement to be 18, but Apple says people have to be 17 to download it (huh? another post, another time). So they fucked.
What would make a young boy do that?
Well we have programmed gay people to show one another what we value. Not your face, your accomplishments, but your body.
So we place mental traps for young people early on that tell them what's important, we have defined our lifestyle with sex. If you disagree, google a black pride or any pride and tell me what you see. Nudity, parties that invite "celebrities" from the adult world and well known sexual gatherings.
If we truly want an AIDS free generation we have to change our focus from sex. Instead of congratulating Jason Collins for coming out or Michael Sam, why not spotlight orgs fighting the virus? Oh...it only affects young blacks and latinos...duh how could I forget?
If we want to set a good example for young people, give them an outlet. Why can't GLAAD pay for the development of an app that is geared toward teens, sponsor teen workshops on safe sex and boosting our self esteem?
We ignore the fact that people that don't have the "big dick", are hung or have great abs just don't feel attractive. Even if they have those things, that's all they feel makes them valuable as gay men and women. Empower people instead of making them feel alienated for not taking shirtless selfies that say "good morning" on instagram to get likes.
If we don't act so, we'll just perpetuate the cycle of using the same oppressive tactics men use against women to make them feel less valuable when they use things other than their minds to attract people and further dilute the cause for real "progress".
I wrote about secluding myself in a prior post and shit like this is why. We admire all the wrong things and hope them on a pedestal while so many of us are alienated and suffer.
I don't know man...it'd be a beautiful day when the word gay actually held its meaning when describing our people.
- CGN
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Back To Black
I've been feeling relatively uneasy lately and I've realized that there's something eating at the core of my being.
I find myself becoming detached from something that much of my early adult years fought internally to belong to; the gay community.
"Community" isn't even the word for such a group that is easily comprised of so many segregated subgroups, so I'll be more specific; the black gay community.
All of my life I have been privileged with access to virtually everything I wanted. If I wanted to go to a school, I went. If I wanted a job, I got it. If I wanted something material, I own it.
However, I find that reaching a level of acceptance in this dystopia of a group has been vexing at times, heartbreaking and a flat disappointment.
I deleted my gay networks a couple of weeks ago and tried going out to meet guys. When I arrived...the very people inside were the same ones that I had seen on jack'd, adam4adam and where ever else, and although we shared the same sexual interests and skin color, we were nothing alike.
There were men dancing to songs I don't like, wearing things I'd never wear and crammed into a small space where one could feel the eyes of judgement ripped through you at each step. "Is he new? Is he a top? Is he a bottom?"
Well guess what? I'm me. If you bothered to approach me instead of checking your phone to see if I was in your vicinity, you might have noticed.
I ended up leaving shortly after a man approached me and said I was "cute" before he asked what I was doing after I left.
Great...another hookup.
On the way home, I was flustered and walked inside feeling a sense of shame and isolation, then I realized that it may never work.
I downloaded jack'd again and find myself checking it with less frequency than before. I created another adam page and barely log in. I have a gay twitter account, which is separate from my current on, and find the topics of discussion to be pedestrian at best and lacking in any form of stimulation.
I found myself hating myself and the community again, then it hit me. The reason I was feeling the way I do is because it isn't meant for me.
I'll always be a homosexual, I never had the urge to sleep with a woman, but that doesn't mean that I need to belong or connect with the people in my bedroom, car, motel, hotel, sex party or where ever else.
I've reached the point where I'm almost half way through my 20's and I've figured it out. I was great before I tried to understand this group and I will be great after I let it go.
When guys ask me what I'm looking for on jack'd, I say not a thing. The truth is, I'm not anymore. No more failed attempts at creating friendships that lead to potentially forced relationships. No more empty sex as a way to connect with others. I'm over it lol. And it feels beautiful.
I'll keep my jack'd in case I have an urge, I haven't had sex since mid-December (I'm losing my shit), but I don't even desire it anymore. I'm just that done.
I'll remain open to meeting people that I find appealing or that appear to have some character, but I'll have no issue telling them exactly how I feel about where I am in life and giving them the option to take it or leave it.
It sucks that I have to move my sexuality back into that dark place in my life and focus on the friendships that I have, my career, my family, but I have to live in a way that's true to myself, my spirit has to be in order and I have to be authentic.
I should've never had a green light for rampant sex, but instead had a yellow light for encounters and false friends. I don't the energy or the heart to create a red light for all of it because its still a part of who I am, so I'm just going to pull the plug and leave the lights out until someone stumbles over me in the dark and we strike up a light together.
- CGN
I find myself becoming detached from something that much of my early adult years fought internally to belong to; the gay community.
"Community" isn't even the word for such a group that is easily comprised of so many segregated subgroups, so I'll be more specific; the black gay community.
All of my life I have been privileged with access to virtually everything I wanted. If I wanted to go to a school, I went. If I wanted a job, I got it. If I wanted something material, I own it.
However, I find that reaching a level of acceptance in this dystopia of a group has been vexing at times, heartbreaking and a flat disappointment.
I deleted my gay networks a couple of weeks ago and tried going out to meet guys. When I arrived...the very people inside were the same ones that I had seen on jack'd, adam4adam and where ever else, and although we shared the same sexual interests and skin color, we were nothing alike.
There were men dancing to songs I don't like, wearing things I'd never wear and crammed into a small space where one could feel the eyes of judgement ripped through you at each step. "Is he new? Is he a top? Is he a bottom?"
Well guess what? I'm me. If you bothered to approach me instead of checking your phone to see if I was in your vicinity, you might have noticed.
I ended up leaving shortly after a man approached me and said I was "cute" before he asked what I was doing after I left.
Great...another hookup.
On the way home, I was flustered and walked inside feeling a sense of shame and isolation, then I realized that it may never work.
I downloaded jack'd again and find myself checking it with less frequency than before. I created another adam page and barely log in. I have a gay twitter account, which is separate from my current on, and find the topics of discussion to be pedestrian at best and lacking in any form of stimulation.
I found myself hating myself and the community again, then it hit me. The reason I was feeling the way I do is because it isn't meant for me.
I'll always be a homosexual, I never had the urge to sleep with a woman, but that doesn't mean that I need to belong or connect with the people in my bedroom, car, motel, hotel, sex party or where ever else.
I've reached the point where I'm almost half way through my 20's and I've figured it out. I was great before I tried to understand this group and I will be great after I let it go.
When guys ask me what I'm looking for on jack'd, I say not a thing. The truth is, I'm not anymore. No more failed attempts at creating friendships that lead to potentially forced relationships. No more empty sex as a way to connect with others. I'm over it lol. And it feels beautiful.
I'll keep my jack'd in case I have an urge, I haven't had sex since mid-December (I'm losing my shit), but I don't even desire it anymore. I'm just that done.
I'll remain open to meeting people that I find appealing or that appear to have some character, but I'll have no issue telling them exactly how I feel about where I am in life and giving them the option to take it or leave it.
It sucks that I have to move my sexuality back into that dark place in my life and focus on the friendships that I have, my career, my family, but I have to live in a way that's true to myself, my spirit has to be in order and I have to be authentic.
I should've never had a green light for rampant sex, but instead had a yellow light for encounters and false friends. I don't the energy or the heart to create a red light for all of it because its still a part of who I am, so I'm just going to pull the plug and leave the lights out until someone stumbles over me in the dark and we strike up a light together.
- CGN
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Computer Love
If this is strange to anyone reading it, forgive me its the first time I've done it.
I've written articles, press releases, scripts, intros to books, blog posts, tweets, facebook statuses, essays, but this is the first time I've written a letter.
I wasn't going to write this tonight because I have work in the morning, but if I don't write it I'll sit up with my mind racing and wondering what time it is out of fear that the light emitted from my iphone would further drain the time from my night of sleep.
So this letter is to my computer love, who happens to be this guy that I met on facebook maybe a month ago. Funny thing is, its felt like I've known him forever. So here it goes...
CL,
Even as I begin to write this I felt my pulse quicken and my breathe become shallow. Truth is, I'm not sure what to say. I'm so used to writing about people, places and things and writing to you even I talk to you almost everyday feels so much more personal.
I guess I want to start off by saying thank you.
Thank you for...well everything. For the time in what feels like forever, I feel I am somebody. When we first "met" I didn't see this coming. I entered that group with the expectation that I would see a bunch of pretentious old guys that love talking about themselves and to my elated disappointment, I was right.
Countless educated, self indulged single guys yapping about relationship problems from the predictable first person standpoint, because who else matters to them; then there was you.
I said something off the wall in the group on a post about relationship expectations and you caught me by surprise; you responded to me in complete thoughts. I know it sounds trivial, but it spoke volumes to me that someone didn't just write a blurb inserting their opinion on something I said, but you questioned me and believe it or not I "felt" a since of sincerity.
So I clicked on your profile and saw that you were older than I was, more educated and you lived in DC, so I summed you up. Figured that you were like the rest of them, some know-it-all asshole that just happened to have a way with words.
Then you surprised me again; you encouraged me to do something I thought I wanted to do.
On a post asking "what would you do if you were not afraid to fail?", I said that I would move to Brooklyn and become a writer. A few people liked it, and by a few I mean the usual suspects that were inboxing me asking why I was single and a plethora of other personal questions that do nothing, but turn me off.
Some of them were attractive, some were nice, but the truth is I'm not looking for relationship. All this time I've wasted sleeping around and attempting to meet guys was me searching for someone that I could open up to.
After you responded to my post saying that you "knew so much about me" and I asked you if you knew that it was me that writes this blog, I realized that the person I had been searching for was you.
In the few short weeks that I've gotten to know you, you've changed something in me. You told me early on a handful of times that you felt like you had a connection to me and that you liked me, but I shrugged it off as some strange infatuation with someone that you couldn't touch, but as time as elapsed I feel the the distance between us has been virually erased.
I realized tonight that the reason I feel so close to you is that I trust you.
You told me that you felt like you were falling in love with me in one of our daily facebook chats at work and I had to laugh because I defined love as a feeling of dependence on another person. That when you love someone, you feel like you cannot live without them. I told you that you just liked our conversation and lightly scorned you since you're involved with someone else.
I don't want to complicate this relationship by saying that I like you and I don't want to devalue it by saying that I love you because what I feel for you is greater and that is you've earned my trust.
I feel safe with you. Not just because you're far away from me and I can't act on any physical thing, but I feel like I can tell you anything about me and that you listen. You provide direction. You inspire me. The best part about it all is that you don't expect anything in return.
You've breathed life into me again. For so long, I was jaded by experiences with gay men in my past and put off by people that have lusted after and tried to corner me into situations that I didn't want, but you offered me a way out of that.
Even if you were to stop talking to me one day, block me from every form of communicating with you, what you've given me is so much greater than the idea of always having you; you taught me to trust.
In many ways, I feel like trust is greater than love because it allows me to be who I am at any moment. Technically you're still a stranger to me, but I've never felt so open with someone without thinking about being vulnerable, but open to learning and growth.
You're the water to my seed that helps me grow and the sunlight that helps me flourish.
It might sound crazy to you if you read this, like I know you will, but you're setting apart of me on fire. The flames of your honesty are burning my outer shell and instead of gasping for the air that is my sanity in this thing; I'm accepting what's happening.
Its like every love song I've ever heard starts to make sense when I think about the feelings that you're bringing out of me and even though you're 500 miles away, I feel like you're with me.
I don't want you to feel embarrassed about the way you feel or to complicate your situation, I just wanted to take a moment to thank you.
You're an amazing guy "CL" and you're going to make a great husband. I'm glad that I "met" you and I'm proud to call you friend.
- CGN
I've written articles, press releases, scripts, intros to books, blog posts, tweets, facebook statuses, essays, but this is the first time I've written a letter.
I wasn't going to write this tonight because I have work in the morning, but if I don't write it I'll sit up with my mind racing and wondering what time it is out of fear that the light emitted from my iphone would further drain the time from my night of sleep.
So this letter is to my computer love, who happens to be this guy that I met on facebook maybe a month ago. Funny thing is, its felt like I've known him forever. So here it goes...
CL,
Even as I begin to write this I felt my pulse quicken and my breathe become shallow. Truth is, I'm not sure what to say. I'm so used to writing about people, places and things and writing to you even I talk to you almost everyday feels so much more personal.
I guess I want to start off by saying thank you.
Thank you for...well everything. For the time in what feels like forever, I feel I am somebody. When we first "met" I didn't see this coming. I entered that group with the expectation that I would see a bunch of pretentious old guys that love talking about themselves and to my elated disappointment, I was right.
Countless educated, self indulged single guys yapping about relationship problems from the predictable first person standpoint, because who else matters to them; then there was you.
I said something off the wall in the group on a post about relationship expectations and you caught me by surprise; you responded to me in complete thoughts. I know it sounds trivial, but it spoke volumes to me that someone didn't just write a blurb inserting their opinion on something I said, but you questioned me and believe it or not I "felt" a since of sincerity.
So I clicked on your profile and saw that you were older than I was, more educated and you lived in DC, so I summed you up. Figured that you were like the rest of them, some know-it-all asshole that just happened to have a way with words.
Then you surprised me again; you encouraged me to do something I thought I wanted to do.
On a post asking "what would you do if you were not afraid to fail?", I said that I would move to Brooklyn and become a writer. A few people liked it, and by a few I mean the usual suspects that were inboxing me asking why I was single and a plethora of other personal questions that do nothing, but turn me off.
Some of them were attractive, some were nice, but the truth is I'm not looking for relationship. All this time I've wasted sleeping around and attempting to meet guys was me searching for someone that I could open up to.
After you responded to my post saying that you "knew so much about me" and I asked you if you knew that it was me that writes this blog, I realized that the person I had been searching for was you.
In the few short weeks that I've gotten to know you, you've changed something in me. You told me early on a handful of times that you felt like you had a connection to me and that you liked me, but I shrugged it off as some strange infatuation with someone that you couldn't touch, but as time as elapsed I feel the the distance between us has been virually erased.
I realized tonight that the reason I feel so close to you is that I trust you.
You told me that you felt like you were falling in love with me in one of our daily facebook chats at work and I had to laugh because I defined love as a feeling of dependence on another person. That when you love someone, you feel like you cannot live without them. I told you that you just liked our conversation and lightly scorned you since you're involved with someone else.
I don't want to complicate this relationship by saying that I like you and I don't want to devalue it by saying that I love you because what I feel for you is greater and that is you've earned my trust.
I feel safe with you. Not just because you're far away from me and I can't act on any physical thing, but I feel like I can tell you anything about me and that you listen. You provide direction. You inspire me. The best part about it all is that you don't expect anything in return.
You've breathed life into me again. For so long, I was jaded by experiences with gay men in my past and put off by people that have lusted after and tried to corner me into situations that I didn't want, but you offered me a way out of that.
Even if you were to stop talking to me one day, block me from every form of communicating with you, what you've given me is so much greater than the idea of always having you; you taught me to trust.
In many ways, I feel like trust is greater than love because it allows me to be who I am at any moment. Technically you're still a stranger to me, but I've never felt so open with someone without thinking about being vulnerable, but open to learning and growth.
You're the water to my seed that helps me grow and the sunlight that helps me flourish.
It might sound crazy to you if you read this, like I know you will, but you're setting apart of me on fire. The flames of your honesty are burning my outer shell and instead of gasping for the air that is my sanity in this thing; I'm accepting what's happening.
Its like every love song I've ever heard starts to make sense when I think about the feelings that you're bringing out of me and even though you're 500 miles away, I feel like you're with me.
I don't want you to feel embarrassed about the way you feel or to complicate your situation, I just wanted to take a moment to thank you.
You're an amazing guy "CL" and you're going to make a great husband. I'm glad that I "met" you and I'm proud to call you friend.
- CGN
Thursday, January 23, 2014
H.A.T.E.U.ME.
Today while browsing my secret twitter, I stumbled across an article that was published for MUSE mag about the fetishism of masculinity in the gay black community.
I saw people adding their two cents about it here and there and no one, that I came across, echoed my feelings; it pissed me off.
Not because it was poorly written, the topic was explored thoroughly or that I disagreed with the authors position. The article touched on a larger issue that prevents me from fully identifying as a "gay black man"; the value system.
The dictionary defines a community as follows:
a social, religious, occupational, or other group sharing common characteristics or interests and perceived or perceiving itself as distinct in some respect from the larger society within which it exists.
I bolded certain words in that definition because I will briefly expound on why I feel a sense of isolation as a member of this "community".
1) Gays can only be described as a group because of our common charasteric and not our interests. The unified characteristic is homosexual; the lust for flash carrying the same reproductive organs.
2) Our interests vary greatly for the sake of not generalizing gay men, take a look 10 gay men's social media accounts and you'll probably find some iconic image of a woman; preferabley lighter skinned, long straight hair and a singer (as much as we like to talk about how 'different' we are, we love to indulge in the societal standard of beauty).
You will also find some sort of external communication method like kik, bbm or a twitter handle so we can discreetly connect with one another. Now this isn't a new phenomenon, it dates back to when Oscar Wilde and other discreet, not discrete, gays would wear colorful carnations on their lapels to identify one another without drawing too much attention for the castigating general public. Sound like a similar practice? Thought so.
Last, but not least, we love excessive drama. Whether its the Kardashian, the Real Housewives or any other show that depicts women as catty, ignorant and combative, we enjot the mellow drama. We even employ it in our own social lives, often forming cliques and using the physical and material flaws of other to form a pedestal for our false hierarchy.
3) Perceiving itself as distinct. Gay men are divided on racial and socioeconomic levels despite the fact that we believe we are so different from the general public. Since we are ostracized as a whole, the elite, and often white, gays lead the crusade against conservative family groups while the educationally deficient and pauper suffer from higher amounts of wage discrimination and health illnesses (including HIV rates climbing in minority communities which are ignored by wealthy whites that can afford treatment).
As different as gay men like to pretend that they, they, or we, often fall into the same materialistic, social hierarchies that our straight counterparts do and isolate those of us that make us "look bad" or aren't as involved in the causes as the rest of group.
This is where I find myself conflicted. I am a member of a community that is divided racially and economically; that I often find myself disagreeing with and for that reason being isolated from.
When it comes to black gay men, I notice that even our most prominent mouth pieces for advocacy like Mused and Cypher Avenue, if there are others fill me in, often go back to the petty arguments about masculinity or "does HIV matter?"
I find myself wondering if we are incapable of identifying the other issues: like poverty, employment discrimination and disease control that the majority (white) gay population sees and attacks while leaving us out.
Or do we simply not care because we only see playing russian roulette with HIV, wondering each other's sexual positions and how masculine other men are as the only tangible issues we can discuss on any intellectual level.
I find it heartbreaking that the only time we can manage to discuss HIV is when we are demonizing other men for having it or highlighting harrowing stories, like the Michael Johnson HIV scare case, when as a "community" so many of us are impacted by it or exposed it in social and sexual settings.
I find it disappointing that the most attention we choose to give one another on a given day is the hamster wheel conversation about perceived masculinity; hell Cypher Avenue is DEDICATED to it.
Then there are the porn blogs that perpetuate the objectification of young black men that are in fact stricken by limited employment, broken families, poverty and often end up with HIV that see sex for money and their looks as their meal tickets to McDonald's.
Enough is enough, it makes me sick. Often times I think I hate the idea of being gay and the gay community, but I realize that I cannot do that and say that without hating myself.
We need a new vanguard, a new path and better ways to identify issues impacting our community or truly face extinction through self-hatred, division and sheer ignorance.
I just hope we wake up in time to make a change.
- CGN
I saw people adding their two cents about it here and there and no one, that I came across, echoed my feelings; it pissed me off.
Not because it was poorly written, the topic was explored thoroughly or that I disagreed with the authors position. The article touched on a larger issue that prevents me from fully identifying as a "gay black man"; the value system.
The dictionary defines a community as follows:
a social, religious, occupational, or other group sharing common characteristics or interests and perceived or perceiving itself as distinct in some respect from the larger society within which it exists.
I bolded certain words in that definition because I will briefly expound on why I feel a sense of isolation as a member of this "community".
1) Gays can only be described as a group because of our common charasteric and not our interests. The unified characteristic is homosexual; the lust for flash carrying the same reproductive organs.
2) Our interests vary greatly for the sake of not generalizing gay men, take a look 10 gay men's social media accounts and you'll probably find some iconic image of a woman; preferabley lighter skinned, long straight hair and a singer (as much as we like to talk about how 'different' we are, we love to indulge in the societal standard of beauty).
You will also find some sort of external communication method like kik, bbm or a twitter handle so we can discreetly connect with one another. Now this isn't a new phenomenon, it dates back to when Oscar Wilde and other discreet, not discrete, gays would wear colorful carnations on their lapels to identify one another without drawing too much attention for the castigating general public. Sound like a similar practice? Thought so.
Last, but not least, we love excessive drama. Whether its the Kardashian, the Real Housewives or any other show that depicts women as catty, ignorant and combative, we enjot the mellow drama. We even employ it in our own social lives, often forming cliques and using the physical and material flaws of other to form a pedestal for our false hierarchy.
3) Perceiving itself as distinct. Gay men are divided on racial and socioeconomic levels despite the fact that we believe we are so different from the general public. Since we are ostracized as a whole, the elite, and often white, gays lead the crusade against conservative family groups while the educationally deficient and pauper suffer from higher amounts of wage discrimination and health illnesses (including HIV rates climbing in minority communities which are ignored by wealthy whites that can afford treatment).
As different as gay men like to pretend that they, they, or we, often fall into the same materialistic, social hierarchies that our straight counterparts do and isolate those of us that make us "look bad" or aren't as involved in the causes as the rest of group.
This is where I find myself conflicted. I am a member of a community that is divided racially and economically; that I often find myself disagreeing with and for that reason being isolated from.
When it comes to black gay men, I notice that even our most prominent mouth pieces for advocacy like Mused and Cypher Avenue, if there are others fill me in, often go back to the petty arguments about masculinity or "does HIV matter?"
I find myself wondering if we are incapable of identifying the other issues: like poverty, employment discrimination and disease control that the majority (white) gay population sees and attacks while leaving us out.
Or do we simply not care because we only see playing russian roulette with HIV, wondering each other's sexual positions and how masculine other men are as the only tangible issues we can discuss on any intellectual level.
I find it heartbreaking that the only time we can manage to discuss HIV is when we are demonizing other men for having it or highlighting harrowing stories, like the Michael Johnson HIV scare case, when as a "community" so many of us are impacted by it or exposed it in social and sexual settings.
I find it disappointing that the most attention we choose to give one another on a given day is the hamster wheel conversation about perceived masculinity; hell Cypher Avenue is DEDICATED to it.
Then there are the porn blogs that perpetuate the objectification of young black men that are in fact stricken by limited employment, broken families, poverty and often end up with HIV that see sex for money and their looks as their meal tickets to McDonald's.
Enough is enough, it makes me sick. Often times I think I hate the idea of being gay and the gay community, but I realize that I cannot do that and say that without hating myself.
We need a new vanguard, a new path and better ways to identify issues impacting our community or truly face extinction through self-hatred, division and sheer ignorance.
I just hope we wake up in time to make a change.
- CGN
Monday, January 20, 2014
Blame Game
A lot happened this weekend and by a lot I mean a whole lot of nothing. Which was fine of course because last week was extremely draining at work and I was worried about losing a bet about the Superbowl contenders (which turned out in my favor).
One thing that did happen other than my usual lounging about and hitting the gym was another chapter in the book of hopefuls closed. Just as history repeats itself, this chapter was closed not by me, but the hopeful himself.
I'll call him "JC", because he's good like that (no pun intended...seriously).
Anyway we met in September of last year and things kicked off with an awkward start. First we met in church and then subsequently went to brunch where I told him a fraction of my whoring background and it bleeeeeww him away.
So after that I figured, "hey...another one bites the dust. Guess I kept it too real (Plies voice)."
But I was wrong.
He hit me back and we started hanging out and having pretty deep conversations about ourselves to get to know one another.
The entire time I was interested in getting to know him better, but we kept circling back to that place I'm just not comfortable going; a relationship.
Now before you jump to conclusions: NO, I'm not afraid of commitment. NO, he's not unattractive. and NO, I wasn't more interested in fucking everything walking.
However, I got the feeling that he may have thought all of those things despite me telling him otherwise.
Maybe it was me telling him I got blowjob immediately before the second time we hung out, but hey...I was just being honest.
He also NEVER let me live that down.
Even after explaining that because of me turning sex into a habit I had NO CONNECTION to people that I fucked, he somehow refused to accept it.
When my words, and even my actions of not having sex and being open, failed me, I tried one final thing to make it clear.
The last time we met up, we talked for hours at a sushi bar about where I moving in my life, and I made a diagram on the table using a chopstick paper and a chewed a straw to show him where I was.
I used the two to make a "T" and on the 180 degree side of it was "relationships" and the opposite side that formed two 90 degree angles and the intersection of the "T" were sex and friends. I was just trying to show that sex and friends mingled on one side of the line and the relationship area remained uncharted.
However, if I had it my way, I'd move from friends first to a relationship. I even used the term "organically" for how I wanted a relationship to form, but even that was met with opposition.
It all crashed and burned on Saturday when I asked to reschedule us going to Sunday. I had been over my dad's house and was helping out around the house when I fell asleep. After we didn't choose an activity and it was cold, I just suggested the next day.
Then...all hell broke loose. He told me he was done being "treated like a second rate friend" and that I didn't care about his emotions. I tried to brush that off, because in my eyes it was dramatic, but he was dead. ass.
Told me that he was "moving forward" with someone serious and before saying he was "signing off and best in life" he said "I bet if I was one of your encounters you would've made time".
Well folks...that pissed. me. off.
After opening up to you about my past, my blog and my tribulations you throw that in my face?
I was a little tipsy off the wine by the fireplace, but I had to let that go up in flames. I was trying to hold onto a friendship that had a foundation of potential relationship and that wasn't smart. It was like the bundle of burning wood in my fireplace, just a placeholder for warmth before it was charred and all that remained was a pile of dust.
I then wondered why gay men have such a difficult time forming genuine friendships without the immediate expectation of more.
Is it because we watch others around us get into relationships and have kids? Is it the family pressure? Or do we feel led on by that initial spark between two people that isn't quite explained.
I thought I had ignited something of an eternal flame like the one on MLK's memorial down in Atlanta and like moths drawn to the flame we both got our asses burnt.
Who's to blame in this failed venture: me or him? I'm not sure, but it sucks to lose something potentially awesome over some mixed signals, battered emotions and gas drenched arguments.
Luckily the conflagration was extinguished with a bottle of riesling and Drake's SNL skit.
- CGN
One thing that did happen other than my usual lounging about and hitting the gym was another chapter in the book of hopefuls closed. Just as history repeats itself, this chapter was closed not by me, but the hopeful himself.
I'll call him "JC", because he's good like that (no pun intended...seriously).
Anyway we met in September of last year and things kicked off with an awkward start. First we met in church and then subsequently went to brunch where I told him a fraction of my whoring background and it bleeeeeww him away.
So after that I figured, "hey...another one bites the dust. Guess I kept it too real (Plies voice)."
But I was wrong.
He hit me back and we started hanging out and having pretty deep conversations about ourselves to get to know one another.
The entire time I was interested in getting to know him better, but we kept circling back to that place I'm just not comfortable going; a relationship.
Now before you jump to conclusions: NO, I'm not afraid of commitment. NO, he's not unattractive. and NO, I wasn't more interested in fucking everything walking.
However, I got the feeling that he may have thought all of those things despite me telling him otherwise.
Maybe it was me telling him I got blowjob immediately before the second time we hung out, but hey...I was just being honest.
He also NEVER let me live that down.
Even after explaining that because of me turning sex into a habit I had NO CONNECTION to people that I fucked, he somehow refused to accept it.
When my words, and even my actions of not having sex and being open, failed me, I tried one final thing to make it clear.
The last time we met up, we talked for hours at a sushi bar about where I moving in my life, and I made a diagram on the table using a chopstick paper and a chewed a straw to show him where I was.
I used the two to make a "T" and on the 180 degree side of it was "relationships" and the opposite side that formed two 90 degree angles and the intersection of the "T" were sex and friends. I was just trying to show that sex and friends mingled on one side of the line and the relationship area remained uncharted.
However, if I had it my way, I'd move from friends first to a relationship. I even used the term "organically" for how I wanted a relationship to form, but even that was met with opposition.
It all crashed and burned on Saturday when I asked to reschedule us going to Sunday. I had been over my dad's house and was helping out around the house when I fell asleep. After we didn't choose an activity and it was cold, I just suggested the next day.
Then...all hell broke loose. He told me he was done being "treated like a second rate friend" and that I didn't care about his emotions. I tried to brush that off, because in my eyes it was dramatic, but he was dead. ass.
Told me that he was "moving forward" with someone serious and before saying he was "signing off and best in life" he said "I bet if I was one of your encounters you would've made time".
Well folks...that pissed. me. off.
After opening up to you about my past, my blog and my tribulations you throw that in my face?
I was a little tipsy off the wine by the fireplace, but I had to let that go up in flames. I was trying to hold onto a friendship that had a foundation of potential relationship and that wasn't smart. It was like the bundle of burning wood in my fireplace, just a placeholder for warmth before it was charred and all that remained was a pile of dust.
I then wondered why gay men have such a difficult time forming genuine friendships without the immediate expectation of more.
Is it because we watch others around us get into relationships and have kids? Is it the family pressure? Or do we feel led on by that initial spark between two people that isn't quite explained.
I thought I had ignited something of an eternal flame like the one on MLK's memorial down in Atlanta and like moths drawn to the flame we both got our asses burnt.
Who's to blame in this failed venture: me or him? I'm not sure, but it sucks to lose something potentially awesome over some mixed signals, battered emotions and gas drenched arguments.
Luckily the conflagration was extinguished with a bottle of riesling and Drake's SNL skit.
- CGN
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Darling Nicki
I'm not sure if it was because I had a great time out with a guy on Sunday, work has been crazy this week or I've found joy in my new fleshlight, but 4 days later I deleted jack'd its out of sight, out of mind.
Call it the workings of the universe or my enduring charm, but ever since I dropped it like a hot potato, some guys that I haven't even talked to in a while have been hitting me up like crazy. Hell, I even got a "How are you?" from "J" (imagine that? I'm that good, huh?).
There was one blast from the past that stuck out in my texts like a sore thumb and he was left an indelible mark on my mind and sex life ever since we met four years ago.
I'll call him "Darling Nicki".
I met "Darling Nicki" in almost the exact way Prince met the vixen in his classic:
"I knew a girl named nikki
I guess u could say she was a sex fiend
I met her in a hotel lobby
Masturbating with a magazine
She said howd u like 2 waste some time
And I could not resist when I saw little nikki grind"
I met him on adam4adam and was immediately drawn to the profile picture of his ass. Now a lot of guys have nice asses, but this was like an ass I've never seen. I was convinced he was a catfish when he responded to my "hey what's up" message (I never had enough hood swagger or poor grammar to write "wussup" or "sup").
A few minutes after chatting, I was in my ho-mobile on my way to Hotel Helix in Dupont circle to meet up with him. You're probably wondering how I remember this particular encounter with such great detail, well I'll tell you.
In your sex life, I believe there are three people that you hookup with that you should never forget: your first (mine was a "C" at best), your most recent (I have that one on video in my iphone) and your best.
I'm here to tell you, out of all of the encounters I've had, "Darling Nicki" was the best.
When I got to his room, he was watching some cartoon fully dressed on the bed. At that stage in my whoring, I used to get nervous about hookups despite my track record. I guess I just never wanted to be disappointing and you never know how someone will perceive you when you walk in the room.
He was very chill like "Little Red Corvette" (at that point I knew he was a pro), and we sat there with my heart pounding doing the typical DC chat: Where are you from? What do you do? etc.
After a few moments of me laying there like a mannequin, he reached over and whipped out my dick as I placed him in a 69 position over me to see that ass, and man...was it a sight to see.
After eating his ass for a few minutes, I grabbed my condoms and lube and got to work. We fucked in that hotel room for 2 hours in every position imaginable: the front, back, side, him riding me both directions until he came on my stomach without touching himself.
I was in shock, I must've put it down, right?
I got up covered in sweat, saved his number in my phone and on the way out did that annoying thing I used to do all the time after a hookup; sent a thank you and "rating" text.
Blame it on being groomed to be a young professional, but I would always send a text that went along the lines of "thanks for letting me come over, I hope you had a good time".
He responded with an "lol, hit me up".
Not sure how to take that, I followed his instruction a week later and he was in my apartment while my roommate was at work bent over our futon with the blinds wide open. Anyone from the street could see, hell my roommate could've come in, but he had me in a trance (my dumbass even left the magnum wrapper under the pillow on the living room couch and acted confused when a friend found it).
I felt like a pro after that. The best bottom I'd ever had was responding to my texts and falling through whenever I wanted him to.
I found out later from "Gilette" that "Darling Nicki" was just like that chick in the Prince song, a regular sex fiend. One day after sex Gilette mentioned that he was hanging with a guy with the same name as my favorite bottom and after chatting I discovered it was "Darling Nicki". Of COURSE, I asked how he him and he said he and his friends had run a train on him. Not only did they do it, he did this often and with several people.
Imagine my horror and disappointment.
Still it wasn't enough to get me off the hook. I was texting him homemade videos in my phone to get his attention and he would respond with his own. Each guy similar to me: a mean stroke game, nice sized dick and being freaky with him.
I slowly started to distance myself from him and of course he did the same. It wasn't until months later that I met up with him again for a freak session, in between that I was fucking "Gilette" and every other person that I found hot on adam4adam and jack'd.
When we slept together again, I did something that I probably shouldn't have done; I fucked him raw and flooded him out before spending the night at his place. Now you're probably wondering why I did this and well...I guess I wanted that validation from him still. For him to know that I could be just as freaky as those other guys he had in him.
Well, it worked. Two years later and 500 miles apart we still talk to this day.
This past weekend however, we didn't share a sex tape and I didn't hit him up, it was the other way around. He just asked how I was doing. Since I'm great, that's what I said and we caught up with one another.
He asked did I have any new videos with an 'lol' and I lied saying I didn't. When I asked him the same question he said "I'm not really into that anymore".
What?
One of the biggest freaks I know has thrown in the towel? Could he be lying? Maybe he's going through something I am on a level emotional traumatizing level?
Either way, I just believed him and I didn't send anything. He even told me he deleted adam for good and that he didn't need it (well shit after hoing like that who would?) Still I was impressed by his decision to shed some of his outlets to "explore" himself.
This conversation was pivotal to me because out of the people I've shared my blog with (him NOT included) I never felt like any of the guys could relate to what I was saying, because they haven't been down the nasty road I walked, fucked, talked and lived for the past 7 years.
I will definitely keep in touch with him and at this point, since I am single, plan on seeing him when he visits the midwest. Until then I'll stay off the networks and relive our those moments on his on xtube page which hasn't been updated in 13 months.
Speaking of which, where is my fleshlight?
- CGN
Call it the workings of the universe or my enduring charm, but ever since I dropped it like a hot potato, some guys that I haven't even talked to in a while have been hitting me up like crazy. Hell, I even got a "How are you?" from "J" (imagine that? I'm that good, huh?).
There was one blast from the past that stuck out in my texts like a sore thumb and he was left an indelible mark on my mind and sex life ever since we met four years ago.
I'll call him "Darling Nicki".
I met "Darling Nicki" in almost the exact way Prince met the vixen in his classic:
"I knew a girl named nikki
I guess u could say she was a sex fiend
I met her in a hotel lobby
Masturbating with a magazine
She said howd u like 2 waste some time
And I could not resist when I saw little nikki grind"
I met him on adam4adam and was immediately drawn to the profile picture of his ass. Now a lot of guys have nice asses, but this was like an ass I've never seen. I was convinced he was a catfish when he responded to my "hey what's up" message (I never had enough hood swagger or poor grammar to write "wussup" or "sup").
A few minutes after chatting, I was in my ho-mobile on my way to Hotel Helix in Dupont circle to meet up with him. You're probably wondering how I remember this particular encounter with such great detail, well I'll tell you.
In your sex life, I believe there are three people that you hookup with that you should never forget: your first (mine was a "C" at best), your most recent (I have that one on video in my iphone) and your best.
I'm here to tell you, out of all of the encounters I've had, "Darling Nicki" was the best.
When I got to his room, he was watching some cartoon fully dressed on the bed. At that stage in my whoring, I used to get nervous about hookups despite my track record. I guess I just never wanted to be disappointing and you never know how someone will perceive you when you walk in the room.
He was very chill like "Little Red Corvette" (at that point I knew he was a pro), and we sat there with my heart pounding doing the typical DC chat: Where are you from? What do you do? etc.
After a few moments of me laying there like a mannequin, he reached over and whipped out my dick as I placed him in a 69 position over me to see that ass, and man...was it a sight to see.
After eating his ass for a few minutes, I grabbed my condoms and lube and got to work. We fucked in that hotel room for 2 hours in every position imaginable: the front, back, side, him riding me both directions until he came on my stomach without touching himself.
I was in shock, I must've put it down, right?
I got up covered in sweat, saved his number in my phone and on the way out did that annoying thing I used to do all the time after a hookup; sent a thank you and "rating" text.
Blame it on being groomed to be a young professional, but I would always send a text that went along the lines of "thanks for letting me come over, I hope you had a good time".
He responded with an "lol, hit me up".
Not sure how to take that, I followed his instruction a week later and he was in my apartment while my roommate was at work bent over our futon with the blinds wide open. Anyone from the street could see, hell my roommate could've come in, but he had me in a trance (my dumbass even left the magnum wrapper under the pillow on the living room couch and acted confused when a friend found it).
I felt like a pro after that. The best bottom I'd ever had was responding to my texts and falling through whenever I wanted him to.
I found out later from "Gilette" that "Darling Nicki" was just like that chick in the Prince song, a regular sex fiend. One day after sex Gilette mentioned that he was hanging with a guy with the same name as my favorite bottom and after chatting I discovered it was "Darling Nicki". Of COURSE, I asked how he him and he said he and his friends had run a train on him. Not only did they do it, he did this often and with several people.
Imagine my horror and disappointment.
Still it wasn't enough to get me off the hook. I was texting him homemade videos in my phone to get his attention and he would respond with his own. Each guy similar to me: a mean stroke game, nice sized dick and being freaky with him.
I slowly started to distance myself from him and of course he did the same. It wasn't until months later that I met up with him again for a freak session, in between that I was fucking "Gilette" and every other person that I found hot on adam4adam and jack'd.
When we slept together again, I did something that I probably shouldn't have done; I fucked him raw and flooded him out before spending the night at his place. Now you're probably wondering why I did this and well...I guess I wanted that validation from him still. For him to know that I could be just as freaky as those other guys he had in him.
Well, it worked. Two years later and 500 miles apart we still talk to this day.
This past weekend however, we didn't share a sex tape and I didn't hit him up, it was the other way around. He just asked how I was doing. Since I'm great, that's what I said and we caught up with one another.
He asked did I have any new videos with an 'lol' and I lied saying I didn't. When I asked him the same question he said "I'm not really into that anymore".
What?
One of the biggest freaks I know has thrown in the towel? Could he be lying? Maybe he's going through something I am on a level emotional traumatizing level?
Either way, I just believed him and I didn't send anything. He even told me he deleted adam for good and that he didn't need it (well shit after hoing like that who would?) Still I was impressed by his decision to shed some of his outlets to "explore" himself.
This conversation was pivotal to me because out of the people I've shared my blog with (him NOT included) I never felt like any of the guys could relate to what I was saying, because they haven't been down the nasty road I walked, fucked, talked and lived for the past 7 years.
I will definitely keep in touch with him and at this point, since I am single, plan on seeing him when he visits the midwest. Until then I'll stay off the networks and relive our those moments on his on xtube page which hasn't been updated in 13 months.
Speaking of which, where is my fleshlight?
- CGN
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Scared of Lonely
Yesterday was kind of a blah day.
I haven't written anything in a while, not because I haven't had sex, I had a 3some with two guys I already slept with (keeping my number down) on Sunday. I guess I was riding high from the holidays and recently got the "back to work blues".
Two days back and I just feel blah. I don't hate my job at all, but the combination of the shitty weather and the fact that I deleted jack'd might be it.
Saturday morning I woke up with one of those hangover hard-ons that just wouldn't go away. I got in late after a night out with this new guy that had tested my patience on a "date" (won't be seeing his ass again), but I was up like a spring chicken ready to tackle the frigid temperatures.
I went on jack'd, my favorite app of course, to hunt down some sex and since I knew very well what I was doing, I didn't feel bad about it. After a few minutes of scrolling through the same faces I see day in and day out, I realized I was done.
I deleted my pics, went into my phone browser and deleted it altogether. I had a feeling of accomplishment, but within in seconds it was eroded by a pit in my stomach.
What was I thinking?
I had gotten rid of something that was sucking up my attention, providing me with aimless brain damaging entertainment, but I also cut off my last link to the outside world of guys.
Sure I had fucked half of them and despite "reupholstering" and refining my profile the newbies I didn't meet did what they always did; ignored me or wanted to fuck. Still I felt like I lost something.
Today begins day two without it and I really feel like the walls are closing in on me. Waking up to no messages, my phone grabbing ritual came to a halt and my avenue to meeting guys is closed.
Will I never be able to have sex again?
I got an offer from the couple I banged out a few weeks ago yesterday, but I declined because I just wasn't feeling it (who knows who they'd bring to the group). Plus there was an impending blizzard.
So now I'm here going through withdrawal and its bad.
The only thing that made me feel better was facetiming with an old friend that lives in New York last night, but after talking for over an hour and our conversation started to come to a close....I got sad.
Then I wondered was it jack'd I was missing or the attention from guys? Some people are introverts so they could care less about interacting with another person, but I feed off of it. It makes me happy.
Now without it...I feel alone and to be honest, that's what scares me.
On the phone last night I got to take a trip down memory lane to when I paid $1,600 a month to live alone in DC, but after doing so I found myself filling the space with temporary visitors just for companionship. Turns out being "Mr. Independent", "don't need nobody" doesn't work for me AT ALL.
Some of the guys I fucked I thought were hot, others...I could've gone without, but I was all alone and that's all I knew that would draw people over.
Now away from that and with an even worse pool of guys to potential interact with..I'm lost.
*le sigh* what to do.
Any suggestions from guys out there that have gone through withdrawal?
I know your device is blocked for a month when you delete jack'd and it takes 3 weeks to break a habit, so...by February I'll be over it...maybe?
Until then...what to do? Barnes and Noble? Jack off? Homeland is off the air....I need help y'all.
- CGN
I haven't written anything in a while, not because I haven't had sex, I had a 3some with two guys I already slept with (keeping my number down) on Sunday. I guess I was riding high from the holidays and recently got the "back to work blues".
Two days back and I just feel blah. I don't hate my job at all, but the combination of the shitty weather and the fact that I deleted jack'd might be it.
Saturday morning I woke up with one of those hangover hard-ons that just wouldn't go away. I got in late after a night out with this new guy that had tested my patience on a "date" (won't be seeing his ass again), but I was up like a spring chicken ready to tackle the frigid temperatures.
I went on jack'd, my favorite app of course, to hunt down some sex and since I knew very well what I was doing, I didn't feel bad about it. After a few minutes of scrolling through the same faces I see day in and day out, I realized I was done.
I deleted my pics, went into my phone browser and deleted it altogether. I had a feeling of accomplishment, but within in seconds it was eroded by a pit in my stomach.
What was I thinking?
I had gotten rid of something that was sucking up my attention, providing me with aimless brain damaging entertainment, but I also cut off my last link to the outside world of guys.
Sure I had fucked half of them and despite "reupholstering" and refining my profile the newbies I didn't meet did what they always did; ignored me or wanted to fuck. Still I felt like I lost something.
Today begins day two without it and I really feel like the walls are closing in on me. Waking up to no messages, my phone grabbing ritual came to a halt and my avenue to meeting guys is closed.
Will I never be able to have sex again?
I got an offer from the couple I banged out a few weeks ago yesterday, but I declined because I just wasn't feeling it (who knows who they'd bring to the group). Plus there was an impending blizzard.
So now I'm here going through withdrawal and its bad.
The only thing that made me feel better was facetiming with an old friend that lives in New York last night, but after talking for over an hour and our conversation started to come to a close....I got sad.
Then I wondered was it jack'd I was missing or the attention from guys? Some people are introverts so they could care less about interacting with another person, but I feed off of it. It makes me happy.
Now without it...I feel alone and to be honest, that's what scares me.
On the phone last night I got to take a trip down memory lane to when I paid $1,600 a month to live alone in DC, but after doing so I found myself filling the space with temporary visitors just for companionship. Turns out being "Mr. Independent", "don't need nobody" doesn't work for me AT ALL.
Some of the guys I fucked I thought were hot, others...I could've gone without, but I was all alone and that's all I knew that would draw people over.
Now away from that and with an even worse pool of guys to potential interact with..I'm lost.
*le sigh* what to do.
Any suggestions from guys out there that have gone through withdrawal?
I know your device is blocked for a month when you delete jack'd and it takes 3 weeks to break a habit, so...by February I'll be over it...maybe?
Until then...what to do? Barnes and Noble? Jack off? Homeland is off the air....I need help y'all.
- CGN
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