Live from Philly
Jay and Chad
On Wednesday I took the train up to Philadelphia for work. While there, I met up with Jay Dagenhart, who appeared on Oprah's "Meth In America" show that aired on November 28th. We met in my hotel lobby, then went across the street to a little diner where he watched me eat. He's nearing two years clean.
During Jay's segment in the last 20 minutes of the show he told his story which is similar to all of ours. He defined "barebacking" for the Queen of Talk. He described our behavior in detail.
I had been snapping pictures of myself infront of the TV when Jay began to plead for us - YOU AND ME - to take care of our community... to take care of our "Gay Brothers". When he said those two words, grief overcame me.
Let me see if I can put the feelings into words.
When I was partying, I saw bodies. I saw pecs and asses and cocks. I saw underwear. I saw jeans and belts and t-shirts. I saw freckles and moles and bruises and hair and orfices.
I did not see people.
Today when I shake a hand, Today when I give a hug, I am meeting a person. A soul. A being. A man. A brother.
I am still working on my psychological rewiring. I still see bodies in the form of porn that satiates the chemical physical hormonal addictions. Merging real people and sexual desire is a bit of an odd situation for me. It has been 4 weeks since my last sexual encounter with a person, before that it was 5 weeks, before that another 5. That is quite a significant change from 5-10 in a typical weekend.
I apologize for the details. But here's my point: People have value to me now. Sex has value to me now, I guess. And I care about people.
Gay people ROCK! I love the energy, and vision, and care that I see in 18, 20, 24, 40 year old gay men... like those adorable congressional interns or HRC volunteers. They have dreams to change the world. Playwrights and florists and dancers. Anthropologists, psychologists, doctors. Hair stylists, mayors, sales clerks. And don't forget band teachers.
Who will be the first gay president? (Or shall I say, the next?)
We may not be breeders, but dammit, we make the world a better place.
Mural in Philadelphia's Gay Community
So when I hear the term "gay brothers" these are the men that I think of. This is the community that I hope for.
There is so much fucking waste among us. Since I haven't had alcohol in the past 4 months, I have seen how much money I used to spend on getting drunk. I'm guessing $100 a week. $50 at JRS or Cobalt in a night, twice a week. Sounds about right. That's $400 a month. That money has paid for 5 trips to California since August. Credit card debt is going down not up.
What have I gained? 1/4 of a Master's degree (well, plus $9000 in student loans). 100 new friends. Two major projects accomplished at work with rave reviews and another starting tomorrow. 12 students, some of whom said I was one of the best teachers they have had in design school.
In 130 days.
No Stopping Any Time
Today, I am more irrelevant to the drug addict than I was yesterday or the day before. The gap between us is farther. I am distant.
I hopped on Manhunt for about 3 minutes on Saturday night to get a screen capture of my personal ad for a project, then to delete my account (which I did). My heart was pounding just doing so. After I had been on for about two minutes, I got an instant message from the guy who was my PNP host on April 1st (he's still there waiting for something). I was just signing off as his message popped up. I really didn't know what to do with it. His one line message said "I want to chat with you."
Manhunt occupied an average of 12-18 hours of my partying weekends. You remember that?
So, I'm not so irrelevant after all.
Come out of that box, boy! Leave the fucking suitcase. You are too fabulous.
Artwork in Philly's Gay Community Center
My Manhunt profile before I deleted it on December 10th
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