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tension
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Jul 2, 2007 8:02 am
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Phil looked like an angel. That is not to say he was. Weak kneed, it trembled as he worked his charm on me. Looking back, in reality we were just two horny 19 year olds who were looking for nothing more then some quick action. Nineteen year olds are genetically programed to go weak kneed as the blood rushes to are cocks, are minds start to spin and we just want to drop down on all fours. Love really has nothing to do with it. We were both to nervous to do anything except babble unintelligently.
Phil stood there in contrast to to stark contrast of the room we were to share for the next six months. The cold grey concrete walls and floor, the steel army regulation bunk beds we depressing. No wonder he looked like a wet dream, oops, I mean angel!
He insisted on taking the top bunk which was fine with me. I soon realized that it was going to be a problem. Most nights Phil was to drunk or stoned to maneuver his way to the top bunk so we switched bunks. That worked fine until Phil accidentally dropped his stereo speaker while he was trying to suspend it from the ceiling. It bounced off the bed, hit the window breaking it and ending up on the concrete three stories below. I knew it was a bad idea to move the bed in front of the window. I didn't sleep for a week because of that broken window, not because of the cold and rain, but because I spent most nights swearing under my breath at that stupid room mate of mine. That's what I get for being NICE!
I wanted to wring that gorgeous little angel's neck. It was looking like I was in for a long semester as the sexual tension built between us!
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Seeing him for the first time
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Jul 1, 2007 10:09 am
1491 Views
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Seeing him for the first time I went weak in the knees. The thick black curls that crowned his head, the sharply chiseled features of his face, eyes that defied description, brown with flex's of gold in them left me breathless. Then there was that smile, warm and inviting. Awe! I new I was in trouble. Phil looked me up and down and a mischievous grin flashed me his pearly white's, winked and said "hey, big guy!" He was all charm and charisma and sex appeal!
I looked away. I was a naive kid off the farm and had no idea how to respond. He terrified me he was so beautiful! That and the fact that he was wearing leather chaps, hanging a picture of Marilyn Monrowe and listening to the cast album of the Rocky Horror Show. My God, what was I going to do! Phil was my biggest dream and nightmare all rolled up into one total vision!
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Starting point
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Jul 1, 2007 1:39 am
1503 Views
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When I was seventeen my older brother was suddenly killed as a result of a work related accident. We were only 13 months a part and while we were your typical farm kid who had there share of sibling revelries we were close. He was more than my brother, he was my hero and protector. He was my best friend. Twenty nine years later I still miss him and yet his presence is always with me. He counsels me in my dreams. I swear he still kicks me in the but when I need it!
For several years I drifted until on a whim I decided to attend a catholic seminary in the USA. Too everyone's surprise they accepted me. I think I was still in shock the first day I arrived until I met Phil! My life was about to change in ways I did not understand. Both our lives were changed. Forever!
We couldn't stand each other, it was imposable for us to live together, but the power of love is strange. We found in each other something that was lacking deep within ourselves. I don't know if it was a sense of loss or sense of desperation that drew us together, it doesn't matter. What ever it was that drew us together was stronger then anything I had ever experienced and beyond my ability to ever understand even still.
He was such a slob, he was manic all the time and drove me totally nuts. I had to do a portrait for an art class I was taking and I asked Phil to pose. It was like trying to draw the wind. He was never still. It was the quickest art work i ever did. He hated it! I was amazed because I had captured a profound sense of sadness and loss in him that I had not seen before. I think I also recognized the same feelings in me! Not to long afterwords he left school and I cried because I knew I loved him!
I have written lots about my past but never about Phil. I think it is time our story was told!
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Happy Canada Day
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Jun 29, 2007 4:46 pm
1666 Views
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So Sunday is Canada Day. As we celebrate the land of the strong and free let us take time to remember those who have helped make this country what it is today. Let us also take time to remember the men and women who are fighting in Afghanistan and hope that they are all home again soon!
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young beautiful and stupid
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Jun 27, 2007 11:51 pm
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Yes, I was once young and beautiful. I never thought I was stupid. It just was easier to use my looks rather than my mind to navigate my way through life. Well, that's not entirely true, I came from a back round of privilege and got a good education, not that I was a spoiled rich kid, just spoiled! I found out that being young and good looking did have it's advantages and could help me get what I thought I wanted. And for a while it worked. There is a dark side though. By the time I was in my mid twenties I was in recovery and was able to move forward.
This is not really all that unusual for a lot of us. What I find so disturbing is that today so many people idolize this type of behavior. The cult of celebrity seams to have taken this to an absurd extreme when being young, rich and beautiful is in some way a worthy accomplishment in it's self without really contributing anything of worth to the world we live in. What is stupid is that most of these individuals are capable of much more and instead of reaching their potential sacrifice there lives for what is perceived as happiness.
When I stopped trying to get everything I wanted and learned to be content with what I needed I realized that it was really what I wanted all along. If I only new then what I know now, but then youth is wasted on the young!
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Heroes
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Jun 26, 2007 11:44 pm
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It seems that we live in a world where openness and honesty, love, compassion and acceptance are some how seen as being heroic. And yet don't we all just wan to be loved and accepted? Aren't these values just part of the human condition that have nothing to do with if you are gay or straight, masculine or feminine, young or old.... I think you get my drift. Is doing what is right, is speaking what is true, is working for justice such a rare thing these days that when we actually see someone who upholds these values we immediately want to create hero's? Maybe what we really need to do is to stop looking for hero's in our lives and start becoming the hero in our life!
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