You do know, Larkin, what with all the gifts, letters and tales I’ve presented you since 2007, you could open your own museum. Gay tourists would pay a handsome fee for the privilege to view my myriad artifacts of love and dedication. In fact, the GLBT History Museum might close down as a result of the unbeatable competition! They don’t honor me, they don’t honor Randolph, and they don’t honor you. And why the fuk not? We have each contributed mightily to the benefit of gay people with little or no recognition whatsoever:
- Me, for my brazen activism since 1983, and contribution of many novel strategies to gain our freedom. With loads of humor, inspiration, true tales, and greatest regard for all sexual minorities on the planet regardless of their religious or political affiliations. And at great risk of violent attack both outside and within the gay world. I’m sort of being crushed in the vise of hetero homophobes on one hand, and vindictive, right-wing-mama’s-boy queers on the other.
- Randolph, for being our very own war hero, including his great sacrifice of a 40-day fast back in 1984…and his consequent betrayal by the Democratic Party that led to his grievous suicide attempt at The Wall in 1985. He was an impossibly beautiful man as you are, and such a dream-come-true for this struggling faggot. Absolutely no reason why his noble achievements remain excluded from the GLBT History Museum.
- Yourself, Larkin Kelsey, for all your inestimable community participation as a loving friend to many bar patrons whose lives would be utterly miserable without your sweet and caring presence. Such a cryin’ shame (I might add) that so many in our queer family give you absolutely no credit, and even despise you. These are petty minds who choose jealousy over respect for your brilliant efforts to create true community in a highly fragmented minority. And in spite of much antagonism against your good works, you kindly ignore the slings and arrows, that you may forge onward.
There is also another Great Gay Warrior who’s an unsung hero of many years’ sacrifice, by name of Carlyle Lambourne. I discovered him on the Internet in 1997, and it has been a great association since then, via email. He resides in a suburb of Boston, and has always been a most thoughtful and supportive friend throughout those many years. I will be most delighted to finally meet him in person, some day soon I hope. His concepts for Gay Conquest are so amazing and insightful, I’ve maintained a page on my web site to archive all his prosaic contributions.
I am so proud to love such good men, even to the point of suffering further PTSD out of misunderstanding or (perhaps) bearing their crosses along with mine. But the greatest pride I’ve ever known is taking your honorable cross upon these aching shoulders. You, My Darling Dragon, are the Absolute Cat’s Meow. Even beyond that of Randolph Taylor who is a true hero beyond anyone’s comprehension but a few. And that’s saying a hell of a lot, Mi Amigo Dulce!
Because I know what a genuinely good soul you are, I am more than willing to suffer any humiliation, grief and challenges you fling in my direction. For I do understand the purpose of your plan. That you care about me so much, you do not hesitate to put me through any difficulties to strengthen my spirit. Even if it means sacrificing our friendship. But I want to assure you:
No fear of losing my loyalty no matter what. Though I may sometimes bite back, please realize this is only because of the pain you inflict. And I know you understand perfectly, being the Wise Father Of My Soul that you are. I just want so badly to end this tortuous cycle, that our friendship may blossom. And in so doing, spread a great blessing upon our struggling planet. I want so desperately to be in your arms, to be a best friend to you in all circumstances.
For I realize that, while the most joyful man in the cosmos, you must know suffering in greater depths than I could ever conceive. And of course a grievous part of that is my own struggles that you have intentionally sparked. Every bump on my sorrowful path hits your own heart like a ton of bricks. I just don’t want you to go through that again…ever. So allow me to take the moment to assure you:
“I’m perfectly fine. No, more than that: I’m perfectly fine because of you! Your sweet/tough friendship has made me realize after so many years since we first laid eyes on each other: I am by far the friggin-luckiest man in the entire universe to have Larkin for my good buddy!”
You are My Creation, My Supernova, My Big Bang! You are God’s Own Heather on the slopes of Loch Ness. You are the Arctic Rime that frosts the beards of mighty warriors, but not their pricks when the sun has set and all good men have the hots for each other, and wish for a dong in their mouth plus one for their brother!
So many years have passed since we both were driven out of Hole in the Wall. And as a result, I very rarely get to enjoy your gracious company any more, nor watch your antics at the pool table. I am terribly jealous of those patrons not denied your vision of merriment…whether at billiards, softball, bowling, or just plain barfly schmoozing. For a while longer, I guess, I must play the outcast, the pariah, to your popularity. Though I realize there may be not a one in your circle who appreciates you as much as yours truly.
I cannot imagine not being here for you, even if we don’t hang out together still. I cannot bear the idea of you moving on without me, leaving me behind in the dust to be ravaged by the Wolves of Despair. There is nothing worse than that. Nor nothing better than daydreaming about a blessed future in your admirable heart, as we embark on an eternity together.
Yet at this time in our space, I’m not sure which way to play this. For I really don’t want to make you feel imposed upon…yet by another token I realize that you often challenge me to recognize that what you wish is not always what you speak. That is my quandary: should I continue to park myself by TPT 3-4 days per week…or should I surrender that episode unto a new chapter? My decision is thus:
Drop the JW Plaza thing totally. Do not ever sweat Larkin’s devotion to you, for you may simply relax and enjoy each day. Knowing with every pulse in your heart that Larkin is indeed your Most Beloved Guardian Dragon…and Randolph Louis Taylor your Most Adored Guardian Angel. Neither shall abandon you ever, and I promise that you, Kind Zeke, shall soon be surprised by Larkin’s attentions.
I do so love you, Larkin. And I really, really, really miss you.
All my love, forever and ever and more,
Zeke
PS: Some lines I’ve thought up to speak, next time we meet…not to rehash what I’ve already typed out in this or that previous letter:
I approach you once more outside of Twin Peaks Tavern puffing on a Marlboro (or whatever): “Larkin, you are so mean to me you make Hitler look like the Easter Bunny.”
Also:
“You don’t have to tell me to move on, I will move on, once you promise me this: you will never insert plugs into those handsome earlobes like some dudes do! You are too darling a man to ever decorate himself; no other male beauty comes close to touching you! Though perhaps a tattoo would be hot…such as a fierce dragon wrapped about one shoulder.”
And:
“Got a joke for ya Larkin, for my new standup routine! My boyfriend cheated on me last night. Know what his excuse was? He was abducted by a UFO! Well, I certainly don’t believe he was abducted, but I’m sure he was anally probed.”
Yet more:
“Oh I get you Larkin! You’re just playing hard to get, so the getting will be that much more fabulous!”
Plus this:
“You’re incorrigible! Still no hug after more than a year…are you mad? Please embrace me before I die and have to go through this all over again in my next life, searching (yet once more) for My Absolute Ultimate Soul Mate.”
And here:
“I’m gonna be world famous in a short time from now, and I’ll need a trophy wife. I want that trophy wife to be you!”
Finally:
“I can’t imagine any other man so bodacious as your own sweet self! Thank you for such incredible loyalty when I was sorely tempted to believe otherwise.”
So just keep playin’ your game as long as you want, My Rapturous Raptor! I will never back down, indeed I will always stand up to you. For that is what a true friend is all about: that he alert his beloved whenever he sees him straying onto the wrong path. Even when he finally comes to realize this is but another silly game his guardian dragon just concocted. Your games, Lovely Luscious Larkin, are one heck of a lot harder to play than 3-D chess!
ZekeBlog 2.0 