  What an incredible day. I mean, so much happened, not all good. But when was the last time I had such a full day without feeling taxed by its end? Up early for the SOC meeting in the Field House to represent the LGBT group. I spoke up, made motions and seconds, and generally participated more than any of our group has in the past. I felt saucy.
Awake (although carrying my usual hangover). And "on". Manic but not spinning my wheels into a rut of futility. Afterward, this girl comes up to me and says, What does LGBT mean? What club is that? It means Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgendered.
Its just too many words to keep saying every time I make a motion. Oh, cause me and this girl were like, I think shes part of the LESBIAN club. Yeah, ok. That is a lot of words to have to say. Funny. An awkward attempt to connect, Id say. But amusing all the same.
I watched her. Obviously she felt funny saying the L-word while I stood there calmly smiling at her fumbling with the interaction. A young woman. immature. yet bold enough to engage it. I ran into two people that warrant mention.
First, I saw Fritz. My savior councilor of last semester from the school who I no longer see and can no longer really talk to since the relationship has reached its official end. We exchanged heartfelt smiles and walked our separate ways. I had such a hard time... He has earned a place in my heart. Then if this was real, I still cant believe it.
I swear on my libido that I saw Tony Flowers today. Walking into the library through the front door, I saw him for a minute while I stood out front of Starbucks a good thirty feet away. It was him, I swear it. For those of you who know of my Tony this is a monumental run-in. I didnt say anything then decided to let out a cautiously inquisitive, Tony? No response.
But then it was a timid inquiry. Theres too much else to talk about to go into the Tony saga in detail right now. Suffice it to say, this was my best friend for four years, my roommate for one year, my confidante and salvation during the darkest hours of the Claudia soul-sucking and my meth partner, a mutual addiction that went so far I cant believe Im still alive. This is a man who saw me puking into the sink after doing a line. saw me pulling out my hair after being up for three days. A man who I watched playing cards with the wall (with no cards).
I knew this man intimately yet never sexually. And then one day he up and left town. Didnt say goodbye to anyone. Just moved away. No one knew where he went. Even his friend since elementary school didnt get the privilege of an explanation.
Thats the last I knew of him. So you get it? What today was? That was five years ago. that was a whole other life I lead, a stint of nightmarish pain long since put safely away and there it was. I dont know if I want to revisit that.
I don't know if I wanted him to respond. I schmoozed with my Queer group, discussing the morning meeting and the upcoming plans for our functions this semester. Too many details to recount, too much minutia not interesting to yall. But I did invite an outsider to sit in on our class today, our Queer Film class. We did our introductions today, and I spoke clearly and confidently without a glitch of self-doubt. A monumental achievement having me speak so casually and comfortably in front of a crowd about myself in a queer context.
Big It extended into the group discussions too. speaking intelligently, to the point, with insight and concision. Im proud of myself. But the film we watched in class brought the whole day to an emotional halt. We screened Licensed to Kill, a film from 1997 about hate crimes against gay men. Crime scene footage juxtaposed with interviews with the men who killed them.
A sympathetic interview style elucidating the psychological profiles of the men who turn violent enough to murder homosexuals. Now, the approach elicited some form of understanding for the troubled souls who would do such a thing. But at the same time, the heavier weight was listening to these tales of grisly homicides. Seeing these beautiful boys, some bludgeoned to the point where theyre faces were nothing but a mess of smeared flesh stirred about the bloody pulp that used to be their smiles missing fingers, ears torn off, corpses stabbed dozens of times And seeing all of this I was in tears by the end of it. Remembering my brothers abandoned moment of grief when Lincoln was murdered under the same circumstances. His boss took home a nice, cute guy from a bar to his fashionable upscale apartment in Hillcrest.
Lincoln, the established and refined gentleman in his late prime, very successful, very congenial. The man he brought home...he flipped out and beat Lincoln to death, beaten from the waist up. The guy later confessed to the murder to the police, citing his disgust with himself for feeling desire for men as the reason for his violence. Lincoln Aston, beaten to death by a man who couldnt handle the implications of his own sexuality. My brother, crouched on the floor at my mothers feet crying and grieving and shaking his head the same year I came out. I watched all of that, but I couldnt mourn with him.
I didnt want to make him fear the same fate would befall me. I didnt want to be with him in fear that my presence would remind him that Im gay too. Today was loaded. My eyes remained bloodshot and blurry for about an hour. Theyve since resumed that not-so-attractive appearance. But I wanted to wait until I was alone to indulge in a good moment with the pain.
It feels good to engage the emotions. Not to cry outright, but to let it fill me with an ache thats so pure, the tears come in measured drops as if i've been filled and am gently overflowing. Be in the pain, not sob it away just let it be calmly in my core. So much pain in the world. So much I cant contain. But I can feel the limit of it, just how much I can conceptualise and let in at once.
And its not too much after all. Not enough to make me destroy myself to stop it. A big day. More meeting with the group that resulted in some concrete plans to be present on campus. A much needed validation that my being queer is having some impact on a world that would destroy us if it had the chance. There are plenty of people out there who would murder me if they had the chance.
That's a lot to think about... And then the day ended with the long walk to the parking lot with my favourite boy in the group, Terence. I just adore him for so many reasons. We talked about assimilation, separatism, fuck-buddies, intellectual compentence in a lover, and the importance of hot, messy, lusty sex in a relationship. We spoke of the inescapable framework of heterosexual relationships and how they exist as reference points for queer connections. And he spoke of his disillusionment with dating, his giving up on trying to meet someone, his assumption that All Relationships Are Doomed to Fail (i.e. The Meat Purveyors.. whose CD I got another copy of THANKS to Dana!!
Yeah!! If only I could go forth and multiply this goodness for all of you to drink in!!). And I spoke with him of my rocky road to this point, my chosen life of alienation and seclusion behind my computer monitor until I feel Im ready to put myself out there again. it was a genuine connection made. And it was the perfect way to cap an intensely real day. Terence hugged me after the film.
For a long time. Hes good like that. If I was looking to breed, I would look to this man. And with that, Im done. A big day. More than I could write about, really for what took place today, this post is so inadequate maybe Ill reflect more on it in the coming days and address more later.
For now, I need to sit back and ingest. 
