I, Too, am that Soldier

[ Free Me From This Bond (the sequel): Chapter 10 ]

Date: Sat, 13 Apr 2013 19:08:26
I, too, am that soldier.
From: Zeke
To: Keith

This is one among 16 illustrations by S. Rohan I find it such a profound masterpiece, exquisite and heartfelt in its rendering.

Gazing upon that image, I desperately want to take that soldier into my arms, and ease his grief. I don’t know who he is, nor do I care. I just want to love him.

Of course, it was created for my Nam Vet lover, Randolph. But it also occurs to me:

We all have battles in our lives, some of which are tragic and filled with deep sorrow. And I guess, Keith, I, too, am such a soldier.

As are you.

– Zeke

Date: Sat, 13 Apr 2013 23:09:52
Re: Alien incision scar
From: Zeke
To: Keith

My scar (or scars) is (or are) behind my left ear. Really deep and horrid for many years. I suffered numerous incisions in that area. Now, it all seems to have cleared up, finally. But I believe you can still see the marks there. I’ll show you, next time we meet.

I’ve experienced several alien visitations over many years. Most of the time, it was frightening. But sometimes they appear as benevolent, gorgeous human beings 8-9 feet tall. With a wacky sense of humor.

Don’t know if they’re all the same race of aliens. Perhaps some are my/our allies, who performed surgery on me in order to /remove/ any implants. I can tell you about these visitations when next we meet, as my fingers are too exhausted for much typing right now.

Larkin is an alien, but the very best kind. Definitely here to liberate humanity. And (lucky me) he’s chosen me among over 7+ billions, for his lover. But he sure can be tough on me sometimes! There is a /tremendous/ affection between us two lovebirds.

He is always with me, though usually invisible. He knows about you, and loves you /so/ much for being such a sweet friend. If only I could be with you more often! That would go a long way towards stabilizing my tribulations that have to do with being a spiritual warrior.

Does Gus have any implant scar, too? He’s your protector, like Larkin. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if these two work together, though in secret. That would be a kick in the pants, eh?

Love ya always, you darlin’ fellow!

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 00:09:45
Did you actually read my chapters?
From: Zeke
To: S. Rohan

Just curious, because in one of your emails you stated:

“I want each canvas (albeit a small one) to possess the whole story it carries, yea, like the mystical Mary Poppins’ tapestry bag before it,”

Seeing as I only required you to draw what I described, and posted you the relevant excerpt. If you /did/ read each chapter, I am not only greatly complimented, but realize that you’ve come to understand my incredible mission to save many LGBT lives across the planet. Which will spill over to the rest of the world and benefit every single friggin’ person that exists, existed, or ever will exist.

Please don’t ask me who I really am: I don’t know myself. Every time I ask God why did he make me such an extraordinary person, he only shrugs his shoulders and comments:

“That’s just the way it is. Get used to it.” My retort:

“So what happened between you and your son Jesus? Did you two break up, get divorced or whatever?” ‘Cause you seem to be spending an /inordinate/ amount of time showering me with tremendous blessings, that perhaps were originally intended for your sole paramour!”

I certainly don’t believe that /I’m/ his son, and have temporarily forgotten (due to amnesiac side effects of alien implantation). Though I do have a theory about that, which I’ve explained in some other essay whose title and location currently elude me.

But I /do/ know that for whatever reason, God has chosen me to play a /great/ role beyond even my own wildest dreams and egomaniac fantasies! To receive so much love from the Universal Mind may require extensive psychotherapy in order to remain sane…or at least, to not let it “get to my head.” Ha ha.

Greatest blessings, “S.”!

– Zeke

PS: Please know that I am just as amenable to perceiving God’s manifestation as Goddess, a dragon, a humble stone in the road, or even the Spaghetti Monster.

Date: Sat, 13 Apr 2013 15:39:09
Re: As Each Day Passes
From: Keith
To: Zeke

Occupying the Temple of Panoptica:

“The helots were invited by a proclamation to pick out those of their number who claimed to have most distinguished themselves against the enemy, in order that they might receive their freedom; the object being to test them, as it was thought that the first to claim their freedom would be the most high spirited and the most apt to rebel. As many as two thousand were selected accordingly, who crowned themselves and went round the temples, rejoicing in their new freedom. The Spartans, however, soon afterwards did away with them, and no one ever knew how each of them perished.”

Reference: http://tinyurl.com/helots-article

Date: Sat, 13 Apr 2013 18:48:15
Re: As Each Day Passes
From: Zeke
To: Keith

{{ Occupying the Temple of Panoptica }}

Powerful and profoundly tragic. The ancient and classical Greek culture has always been an amazing source of inspiration and meditation for me.

The two images you sent are really fantastic: Drug Enforcement Agency like the Mad Hatter, going insane on their own high of persecution. And the clone joke: ha, ha, they’re all gay!

I’ve printed out the 16 illustrations for my book. Would love to show them to you and Gus…they are exquisite! Actually, I’m just looking for some excuse to hang with you again, Keith.

While I know that Larkin will make everything up to me in only the most noble ways, it will take some time yet. Meanwhile, I’m still in tremendous grief…I can be fine and happy for most of the day, but then I think of him and break down. He has yet to call me, or write to me, or see me…after such a terrible strike against me. Didn’t even offer to buy me a drink when I showed up at Twin Peaks two days ago.

He is /so/ dear to me, I can’t bear to think our friendship may be coming to an end. I cannot live with that. Nor can I live with a partner who’s physically abusive. Either way, it will break my spirit, probably kill me. This is a tremendous cross that’s been dumped on my shoulders, and I really need to not be condemned to being alone just about every day and night.

I know my prayer for him will certainly be answered. But what a difficult passage.

– Zeke

Date: Sat, 13 Apr 2013 19:12:24
Re: As Each Day Passes
From: Keith
To: Zeke

I just shaved my head and found the incision marks from the implant that was put in my head (I think by “˜people’ possibly loosely connected to a former “˜xxxxxxxx’ xx x xx xxxxxxxx xxx xxxx xxxxx xxx, but possibly a shadow entity inside one of those xxxxxxxxx) when they drugged me at Folsom Street in 2011. That was the point when things got really fucked up. This is the first time I’ve seen it. I am not certain that this happened, but I really do think it did, or something like a sudden shock of punishment and then I was in jail from then on. But it also seems like it had already started happening a few months earlier. And I can’t figure out what’s really connected to it and what’s just in my imagination.

Date: Sat, 13 Apr 2013 22:01:33
Re: As Each Day Passes
From: Zeke
To: Keith

Keith: that’s a big part of what my first book’s about: that I was drugged, robbed and left for dead. See Chapter 12 (“The Phone Call”); it’s all in there:


That’s their modus operandi: that you have no idea if any of this is true, or just your imagination. They are diabolically subtle, and terribly wicked. I have written other articles about this cult, such as:

There’s a Succubus Born Every Minute


But you will be fine, my dear friend. For there is a greater power that overrides these scumbags, and gives us back our happiness. Which is the main reason we’ve been brought together…finally (in spite of C. B.’s zealous efforts to turn us against each other; which is why I had to be so aloof to you and Gus back then).

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 00:21:33
Re: As Each Day Passes
From: Zeke
To: Keith

{{ former “˜xxxxxxxx’ xx x xx xxxxxxxx xxx xxxx xxxxx xxx, but possibly a shadow entity inside one of those xxxxxxxxx) }}

What are all these “xxxx’s” about? Why can’t you tell me? Where did you get drugged…was it in a bar, and which one? I suspect one particular bar, though /all/ the SOMA gay bars are quite dangerous. Why do you think I’ve returned to that area…just to kick up my heels?


Further information that you may have will /greatly/ assist my dangerous work. Even /more/ dangerous than in the past, as I’m embedding myself w/o Larkin’s presence to defend me. But if for some reason you don’t feel comfortable telling me further details, I will respect that.

ALWAYS with only the profoundest love and respect, I remain:

Yours MOST truly,


Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 00:46:21
Re: As Each Day Passes
From: Zeke
To: Keith

Keith wrote:

{{ Fortunately (for my sanity right now) my previous boyfriend of 10 years (btw, “˜bf’ is not the code for “˜xxxxxxx’) made me read “˜Bleak House’ when I was a teenager (though I never finished the last hundred pages) so I know that it is hopeless to pursue any resolution to X-company’s may tarry. }}

For the sake of other potential victims, in addition to yourself, I will /definitely/ pursue X-company demons. I am a /superb/ psychic detective, and /always/ get my man (so to speak). This is now out of your hands. Thanks /so/ much for giving me a lead into this diabolical issue. You need not provide any further info, for me to complete this latest mission.

Just know that YOU WILL BE FINE. And a happy life is your destiny. But certainly not without some occasional hugs and kisses from yours truly.

In greatest affection,

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 00:34:08
Re: What did they want from me
From: Zeke
To: Keith

Keith wrote:

{{ Do you know? I think they are aliens. I don’t know why they messed with me. I just want to know what they did to me and why. }}

Keith, I do not know what’s going on. I can only conjecture in a general fashion. Why did you send me those pics of X-company employees? Are they suspects?

Seems to me I gotta find some way to visit X-company. Is this their blog:


What is their address? I find it intriguing that they may /also/ be located in SOMA, just like the infamous gay bars. But there is also an X-company jewelry shop and one or two other businesses named “X-company” in that same district. So it would be a great help if you told me their address.

You’ve just sent me on a new mission, for which I am most eager to fulfill, and thank you with utmost gratitude for confiding in me. You are a /most/ blessed man, from whom I am /most/ ennobled to defend!

I now conclude that it would be /most/ beneficial if you accompany me to Twin Peaks Tavern this Thursday around 2 PM. Larkin is a /most/ righteous guardian, who will do /anything/ to vindicate my /true/ friends. One glance at you by him, and he will know what a kind and excellent ally you are.

What an adventure, eh? I just wanna hold you and kiss you, but you make such a scenario so very difficult, due to your intrinsic caution.

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 02:57:37
Again, THANK YOU “S.”!
From: Zeke
To: S. Rohan

I have gained SO MUCH wisdom and peace of heart, meditating upon each of your stunning illustrations. But the one that most moves me is the “Chirstmas Soldier.” I weep every time I see it.

THE DRAGON: Oh yes, the dragon! That is my ally and vindicator. And his name is Larkin. And it is Randolph’s warrior spirit that brought him to me. Unbelievable but true; much like Ripley’s Museum. I am so incredibly blessed, I can barely keep from swooning in ecstasy each and every day…if not several times per day!

Your VERY fine art has embellished my extraordinary tales with incredible grace and delight! I look VERY MUCH forward to future collaboration with you. Just so you know: I’ve already completed Chapter 9 of my sequel to “Free Me From This Bond.” I expect it to be no longer than 19 chapters.

But I’m outta money right now. Though I soon expect MASSIVE financial inflow once my first book is published. At that point, the firmament’s the limit!

But that depends on Larkin, who /always/ has the last say in everything.

Except where it counts. That’s my department.

So be really proud of your astounding works under great duress! I nominate you for a Purple Heart, which award you shall receive standing right beside My Randolph, Larkin and myself.

In fact I’m sure that /one/ of us will have the humbling honor of pinning it to your lapel!

With greatest gratitude,

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 09:10:26
Funny thing is…
From: Zeke
To: Eleanor

…when I was so bold as to march right into Twin Peaks Tavern when Larkin was there: the /only/ vacant seat in the house was right beside my towering prankster!

As if he /knew/ I had another gift for him (those illustrations), and set the whole thing up. The fukker’s TELEPATHIC! Has occurred too many times over these past 7 years to be anything /but/.

Or I’ll eat my tinfoil beret.

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 08:41:35
Furshlugginer blog entry!
From: Zeke
To: Eleanor

This is a minor change to Chapter 9, though you’ll appreciate my moxie.


See the new image I placed atop, then notice to whom the first email is addressed. And finally, see who responds (second email).

Only a fellow graduate of the Potrzebie School of Slack could come up with such a Mad idea!

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 12:20:44
Re: Furshlugginer blog entry!
From: Zeke
To: Eleanor

Eleanor wrote:

{{ You’ll always be Mr. Mxyzptlk to me. }}

I’m a super villain! A super /duper/ villain to be precise! With emphasis on “dupe.”

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 16:41:17
Re: Furshlugginer blog entry!
From: Zeke
To: Eleanor

Eleanor wrote:

{{ You’re an imp from the Fifth Dimension, fer sher! }}

Larkin’s from the Seventh. He’s the shortest one there; everyone teases him. He has to sit on two thick phone books to elevate his chin above table height.

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 16:52:01
Re: Furshlugginer blog entry!
From: Zeke
To: Eleanor

Eleanor wrote:

{{ Poor little feller. }}

Makes me wanna vomit a rainbow of unicorns and leprechaun doubloons.

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 17:34:56
I just posted the following piece to WordPress forums.
From: Zeke
To: My E-frenz

Topic: Thank you WordPress Peoplez!

I know I’ve been a bit irascible at times when seeking help in your forum. Write that off to heavy doses of caffeine and unicorn chocolate. My apologies. But the reason I’m posting is to thank you immensely for providing a most excellent vehicle for hammering out my chapters, which will soon be published by Twosome Press up there in British Columbia (Vancouver Island, where the deer and the cougars range.)

For a while longer (a month or two) you may read this book for free:


I have a /fantastic/ illustrator whose drawings shall elevate my novel into a gangbuster bestseller. It will be released in hardcover, paperback, and all the major ebook iterations (Kindle, Nook, SONY, Apple, Google Play and Kobo). To be released in more than 25,000 bookstores and sellers across the globe.

While still existing on a paltry disability income, I will joyfully upgrade to your paid service soon as I make my millions. You will also be glad to know:

I’m already composing the sequel to my novel. In fact, only three weeks into it and I’m already working on Chapter 10!

WordPress is the very /best/ blog service on the entire planet! With much gratitude for all the fine employees and volunteers who keep WP up to such quality snuff, I thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my left ventricle. And wish you the most joyful lives possible, under Our Creator’s wings.

Much <3,

Ezekiel J. Krahlin

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 18:27:51
Re: I just posted the following piece to WordPress forums.
From: Zeke
To: Keith

Keith wrote:

{{ I just read this article and all the comments:

Elite Panic: why rich people think all people are monsters
http://tinyurl.com/elite-panic }}

Thanks once more, Lovely Keith, for sharing with me a most important social commentary. Doctorow is a brillant and compassionate man who uses his gifts and influence for benevolent purposes only.

As do you. I can only love you so much more for that. Aaron Swartz’s spirit lives on, and challenges the conscience of the elite and their low-income arse lickers.

I will complete Chapter 10 of Book 2 tonight or tomorrow. I cannot believe how wonderfully blessed I am. But I must also acknowledge your own divine intervention that has been (and continues to be) such a tremendously healing force in my life.

<3 forever,

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 20:27:47
Re: I just posted the following piece to WordPress forums.
From: Zeke
To: Keith

Keith wrote:

{{ Before DH Lawrence showed up in Oakland

someone said a spaceship was coming to pick everyone up
he though everyone would like each other
he thought it would be ok
you just have to keep your mind clear }}

As usual, I appreciate your brilliant insight. But I have something important to post you, which will take some time to compose…perhaps a half hour or so from now.

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 20:30:56
Re: DH Lawrence @ OAK PUB LIB, eviction day
From: Zeke
To: Keith

Thanks again for all the excellent material. But I will soon take the advice of one of those pieces, which is:

“Don’t be afraid to shut up for awhile.”

I will do that very soon, after posting you my next email. Please don’t send me anything else.

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 23:42:48
Why can’t you do the right thing by me?
From: Zeke
To: My Beloved but Misguided Dragon

Larkin: within a day or two, I will present you with a turquoise portfolio containing chapters 6-9 of Book 2.

Turquoise has always been my favorite color since I played with my first Barbie doll. I was simply mesmerized by her gown’s deep shade of aqua-blue. My father was quite upset when he saw me playing with dolls instead of little green plastic soldiers. Not that he confronted /me/ per se, but I heard him arguing with my Mom (in the kitchen while I played w/Barbie on the front stoop). She nipped the matter in the bud with a pert statement in my defense:

“Oh leave him be.”

But I also enjoy certain color combinations such as Howard Johnson’s bold contrast of turquoise roof and bright orange facade. My parents used to take me there now and then, when I was still kneehigh to a ladybug. My favorite repast was their HoJo Burger slathered in a “secret sauce” that tasted a tad spicy with thousand-island undertones. Along with a tall fountain glass of vanilla soda (double squirt on the syrup) and a fat dollop of buttercrunch ice cream.

Howard Johnson’s has long since modernized their appearance by changing the facade from orange to soft white. And I turned vegetarian.

So here is a near-future vision of our next encounter:

“These are the latest chapters of “˜Free Me From This Bond (the sequel).’ I only started writing the novel three weeks ago, so things are moving really fast,” I declare. “You /do/ know what that means, don’t you?”

“Hmm,” You raise a musing hand to your chin. “That /I/ better start moving fast too?” I nod in agreement:

“If you really want this book to have the happiest ending possible.” Then append: “Otherwise I’ll just have to commence Book 3.”

You place a kind hand on my shoulder: “Zeke, I’m racked with guilt for shoving you.”

“Well that’s a hopeful sign,” I quip.

Larkin, you need to sincerely apologize to anyone you’ve hurt in the past. Including David. Who so much loved running back and forth through the old Hole in the Wall Saloon. One day when he saw me growing close to you, he warned:

“Look Zeke. Larkin gave me a titty-twister that I thought at first was just a friendly tweak.” He sighed before confessing the final truth. “But he went beyond that, and didn’t stop till after he caused me great pain.” So I assured him:

“I will confront him when the time is right.” I guess now is finally that time, in this chapter that you will eventually read. But if David is exaggerating (due to jealousy of our friendship or something else), you have my heartfelt apology.

Larkin: you /must/ profusely make amends to those you have caused grief (including certain bartenders). And /that/ is how you can give me back my dignity and complete trust in your friendship. I won’t even demand that you /prove/ such apologies…for I put absolute faith in your respect towards my fervent appeal. You don’t even need to apologize for shoving me, if you do that noble deed.

For when two people love each other so much, as we do: it is required at some point that the one who insists on being the final word, give up his perceived supremacy, and allow his partner to take over. At least, for a time. For this is the balance that measures all future outcomes, and is an utterly /necessary/ mandate if both (or just one) seek a rewarding and eternal bond.

Whether the love is platonic or involves the physical, it’s still the same: it’s love, it’s true friendship. Thus, the same rules apply in both circumstances.

I’m not going to lecture you on how to make things up. You humiliated me, but I will /not/ humiliate you. Also, you should know your powerful thrust on my body /has/ aggravated lower back pain. It is minor, and will clear up in two or three weeks. I thank Goddess it’s not any worse. Though please let me emphasize: shoving someone upon a hard surface such as concrete, could inadvertently cause far more harm than intended.

My back problems BTW, originated by another man I loved, who turned violent. His name is Derrick, or on the streets, “DJ.” He kicked me swiftly (and twice) with his powerful soccer legs as I walked by him in order to pour a glass of milk. Bad enough, but a few moments later while I was talking on the phone, he poked a lit cigarette on my thigh (I had no pants on, just a pair of boxer shorts). Fortunately–because God protects me from real harm–I felt not a smidgeon of pain, nor did the cinders leave a mark.

Though I did admonish: “You’re a bad boy. A very bad boy. If you ever try something like that again, you will lose my friendship forever. Understand?”

After that incident, he came to love me with the greatest affection, and was protective towards me in all ways possible. And we loved each other with a great and wonderful passion. Sadly, I could not handle having him sleep over more than three weeks (or I’d be evicted). So he moved on to Sacramento, and has never contacted me since…even though I told him to, and that I loved him like nobody’s business. Last time I saw him was more than five months ago.

What do I need to do to be your good friend (and perhaps lover): get a black belt in Ju Jitsu? I love you terribly. But maybe I love you more than you do me. Though I doubt this. Can you verbalize at this time, that you love me too? AFAICT, you’ve given me every sign that kicking you in the guts or balls would give me the real respect I merit. But I could never do that, as I cherish you too much. You need to admit with all sincerity:

“Yes, Zeke. You are the best friend in the whole world. Again, I am so /very/ sorry.”

If you do that (or in different, though equivalent words) I will respond while weeping upon your jacket:

“Well, My Gracious Dragon, I kinda knew that all along. Seven long years of caring so much about you has made this moment the most sacred in my entire life. I need you so badly, Larkin.”

Your jacket will become drenched in my sorrow and joy. There is no one so beautiful, so sweet and so very sincere as my lover Larkin. Barkeep Danny visits our table with two free drinks, gratis.

Larkin, you seem to have so much fun with friends and acquaintances…schmoozing and playing pool, softball and bowling. Yet I remain relegated to social isolation. Gossip in gay bars does much damage to my ability to form relationships…especially when there is nobody there to defend me, and show me a nice time. When a patron remains isolated, and people gossip about him, the whole crowd winds up rejecting him and driving him out. Through no fault of his own.

And it grieves me terribly that you seem to have acquiesced to herd mentality, in order to maintain your own favored status. You have sold out. All at my expense, though something I sincerely do not deserve.

Guess it’s time for me to move on. Portland here I come!

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 23:52:21
Twin Peaks Revelation
From: Zeke
To: My Soulful Readers

So this early eve (Sunday around 6 PM) I decide to hang in a back table at Twin Peaks Tavern. Which is one of the more recent places that Larkin visits. Though I didn’t meet him there (and didn’t really expect to), I had a lovely time looking over my latest notes, and meditating over “S.””˜s amazing illustrations for my book soon to be published.

Had a sweet (though brief) conversation with barkeep Dennis, an older man of most homely appearance…seemed to be more than 70 years old (dewlap and hanging flesh from his arms and many other places). Told him that my lover comes here frequently, and he most likely knows who I mean.

“His name is Larkin,” I brag.

“Oh, Larkin. Everyone knows Larkin.”

“So,” I enquire, “do you have a boyfriend?”

“No I do not,” he admits. So I respond:

“You’re a very nice man, and deserve one.” I further enquire: “Does Larkin give you any hugs?” (Thinking of course of Larkin’s great affection for his gay brothers, and his pleasure in giving hugs, especially to the downtrodden and rejected.)

“Oh my gosh, I hope not!” he quips. I laugh heartily at his robust retort. So I assure him:

“Some people love Larkin while others hate him. As for those he’s offended, I’ll talk to him, that he may apologize. He does have a bit of a temper.”

I plan to give a pep talk to Larkin next time I see him. And suggest he give Dennis some of his sweet embraces. Then return to my table in the back, go over my notes, and view “S.””˜s fantastic illustrations. I also take some quick pics of the Twin Peaks Tavern, including one of Dennis. [ Note: click on any of the five images below for a larger view. ]

That’s Dennis in the red shirt, his back to the camera:

Interior view of Twin Peaks Tavern:

i finally decide to leave, after two vodka tonics and Larkin’s lack of presence. But upon exiting I come upon an AIDS/cancer activist who is ridiing a stationary bicycle in Jane Warner plaza in order to garner funds. His name is Robert, who has a wonderful son that wrote the following letter (which he hands out as flyers):

Here’s a pic of handsome Robert:

Along with his appeal:

Before I leave Robert, I ask if I can get a hug. We embrace, and my soul is nourished. For a while, but not enough to resurrect my hopes for Larkin and San Francisco in general. So I move on.

Several disappointing adventures ensue as I stroll the Castro before returning home. Which you will learn about further down this chapter.

– Zeke

Date: Mon, 15 Apr 2013 00:10:20
From: Zeke
To: Eleanor

Imagined scenario:

When I next meet Larkin smoking a Marlboro outside of Twin Peaks, he “proves” he got my postcard by stating what I wrote on it:

“Testing. Testing. 1-2-3.”

He is correct, but my suspicion lingers:

“That’s not proof,” I challenge. “How do I know you’re not just reading my mind?” (He is highly telepathic, as was proven to me many times over these past seven or eight years.)

Larkin seems taken aback (offended almost) at the implication. His noble brow furrows. I demand:

“I need to actually /see/ the postcard.” Larkin defends:

“But I threw it away. I can’t possibly hand it to you now.” I retort:

“You think you’re such a clever rascal, don’t you?” Nonetheless I defer:

“Seeing as I can meet you once or twice per week here, there is no need to send you my latest messages via the post office. So that’s what I’ll do for now on.” Then conclude:

“Until a new situation overrides the present.”

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 06:30:14
I am rebelling against everyone…
From: Zeke
To: Keith

…including yourself. Here’s why:

I hanged out this eve at Twin Peaks, hoping Larkin would show up. Which he never did. So I did my best to chat up other patrons there…all of whom politely rejected me, and returned to conversing with their other friends.

So I finally stepped out to stroll the Castro. Saw a lovely young man about 6-feet-2 and said “Hi.” He totally ignored me, and crossed the street. I found him so lovely, decided to cross the street after him, and once more attempt to have a chat.

He only said, “I’m doing fine thank you,” and crossed back to the other side of Castro Street. As if he were avoiding me like the plague. So I said “Fuk it” and proceeded to walk back up Castro, and amble by your residence.

Look up to see the lights on in the front room, and felt very much /not/ included in your life, ’cause it is so /difficult/ to see you…thanks to your own supposed paranoia and resultant fear of having company over.

Then I sauntered on down Collingwood, walked up 18th Street and crossed Castro Street. Where I met an old semi-friend Brian, who I stopped to check out the marvelous illustrations for my new book. It was windy and chilly, but I was dressed warm. Showed him the first three illustrations before he declared (shivering):

“It’s really cold out tonight. Your images are lovely, but I gotta move on!” So he escaped across 18th while I hollered back:

“No one seems to spend more than one minute with me. I’m used to that. Go fuk yourself.” He looked back, as if I were loco.

Next I walk up Hartford Street and back up to Castro and Market. Where I cross paths with the same cute guy who ran across the street /twice/ to apparently avoid me. And tried once more to strike up a conversation. So I said:

“Hi. How ya doin’ fellow?”

He skipped his handsome body across the curb, and distanced himself. I think he said “Alright,” but he escaped so quickly that I’m not really sure.

Earlier that eve I spotted a very handsome blond-haired dude munching popcorn right outside of Twin Peaks. So I exited the tavern to chat with him. Turns out he’s into posing for porn pics and films, and enjoys occasional meth. Said he had to go now to collect worns at Collingwood Park. So I queried:

“Oh, do you go fishing?” To which he replied:

“Yes. I gotta go now.” So I handed him my business card and declared:

“If you wanna visit, just call me at the number on my card. I’m usually home after 8 PM.”

And off he went. Though I do not expect to ever hear from him again, as I didn’t have the chance to give him my buzzer number, and it’s unlikely he’ll be able to access a phone for some time to come, due to his being stranded and homeless. Whatever.

You, Keith, provide very rare opportunity to actually see you face-to-face. It’s all about email. For which I was glad to, for a considerable time, accommodate. But after tonight’s absurd failure to hook up with anyone, I must tell you:

No more email please. I am totally sick and exhausted from distant friendships that have little to do with anything substantial. You have a /great/ lover in Gus, thus your needs don’t even come /close/ to what I have been suffering for many years. Which is:

Extreme isolation and rejection by everyone around me. In spite of my many (and considerable) efforts to reach out and find friends and (perhaps) a really good lover. Even Larkin (who I love so desperately) continues to evade me except in the most tangential fashion. Sadly, he has yet to make up for his violent attack against me, almost three weeks ago. When I next encounter him, I will announce that he will never see me again…and hand him chapters 6-9. Which mostly discuss his vulgar behavior, and my wishes that he rectify such offenses.

For more than three decades, I have experienced hatred, rejection and isolation by my brothers here in the Castro, SOMA, and everywhere else in San Francisco. Now, I am /through/ with trying in any way, shape or form, to establish friendships. Forget about lovers…I am 62 years old now, and stranded as usual.

Do /not/ send me any more email, Keith. Or I will filter you through my spam settings. If you can’t see fit to see me in person once or twice per week, then I don’t think I can continue any sort of communique with you…email or otherwise. If you can’t get over your PTSD from previous horrors that have hurt you badly, I have to say that at this point, it’s your problem and not mine. I have been through /equally/ nasty attacks, yet have managed to continue to reach out in spite of my ordeals.

No one has /ever/ reached out to me, shown me the patience, kindness and love that I have shown so many others. Including Larkin. Once my book gets published, I will vanish to Portland and have nothing to do with anyone I’ve ever met or cared about, here in this fukked up Baghdad by the Bay.

Think about it. I guess this is goodbye.

– Zeke

Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2013 22:07:46
Re:I am rebelling against everyone…
From: Keith
To: Zeke

Those who know how to “reach out” are rich and privileged beyond what my body and temporary experience can comprehend for myself. But ok I won’t talk to you again, rich artist lover man. Empty my garden, see how ferrous i become. bye bye lover. i am a mosquito that never learned to bite. Kill me.

When I was 7 or 8, these weird Jehova’s Witness girls (whose dad was also poor but a survivalist and horticulturist so he fixed up their backyard. BTW. in the Bible Belt, even poor people have backyards, unless you’re REALLY, REALLY BLACK and live in one of the cities vacated when the cars came.) They came and invited my little brother Daniel to ride horses with them. We were poor people. Because they did not invite me explicitly, I thought I was not welcome. So only Daniel went and I was crying in my room all day. When Daniel got back, he said: “You should have gone, everyone was asking about you.”

But that does not change that I was not invited by name.


I am strong, able bodied, competent, and take instructions well. I have reached out to SEVERAL established queens in this neighborhood ever since the possibly-too-early and most definitely externally (crystal new-age pandora plutocrat-engineered demise of my IT “career.” Including YOU, and no one has taken me up on my offer for help. You have been the closest to answering my requests for work (UNPAID, mind you, I never asked any queen for money in return for my labor).

Date: Mon, 15 Apr 2013 00:34:46
Re: I am rebelling against everyone…
From: Zeke
To: Keith

Keith wrote:

{{ I have listened to you so much. I have learned something from every SINGLE FUCKING GOD DAMN word you have written to me personally, or to others where I have been CC’d, or in your blog(s), but soon as I try to start talking to you YOU SHUT ME DOWN AND SAY DONT TALK TO ME AGAIN. What the fuck? Fuck me. FUCKING FUCK ME. I FUCKING WANT TO STOP BEING ON THIS FUCKING FUCKED UP ALIEN BALL. }}

Sorry you feel that way. But I certainly don’t deserve it. If you want a
strictly email relationship, you need to find someone else. I’ve gone the EXTRA MILE in accommodating your wishes to keep things on a
mostly-email-only relationship.

Enough is enough. I have /no/ real friends in this world, other than a few cyberspace allies. How do you think I feel, considering you live barely a block away, and have sent me a couple of sexy videos to view your lovely self?

I just don’t care to be castrated, either sexually of affectionately. And that is what you’ve done while hiding behind a veil of presumed paranoia.

You need to grow stronger and reach out to me as a /genuine/ friend. That is the /only/ way you’ll overcome your present spiritual difficulties.

It is always this way for me: no matter how desperately I try to heal another, they always wind up biting the hand that feeds them.

I get absolutely /no/ credit for taking a stand. So my “friend” dumps me and finds someone else to love.

When all the while I remain their very best friend of all time, yet get dumped in the trash.

<3 always,

– Zeke

PS: Please stop sending me email, and reach out to me in an /authentic/ way. Okay? I’m still up, and will be for another hour or so. PHONE me for god’s sake! I’d LOVE to hear your voice.

Date: Mon, 15 Apr 2013 01:35:54
Gay Licks
From: Zeke
To: My Querulous Readers

One of my dreams is to move to Scotland…the Outer Hebrides to be precise. Assuming that my first novel becomes a bestseller, I can afford to do just that. Then I will master the Scottish Gaelic language. Which I understand is the majority tongue for that region. Once I do this, I will compose the rest of my tales in that idiom, and leave it to translation experts to convert them into English and many other languages. But because my first publication will become a runaway bestseller on a GLOBAL level, many folks will take my lead, and learn to speak and write Scottish Gaelic themselves!

As my popularity rises further with the advent of additional novels by yours truly, eventually this dying language will resurge into the international tongue of choice. Including the United Nations and all other diplomatic venues. IOW: Scottish Gaelic will /replace/ English, French, and even Cantonese as the planetary communication of choice. This startling alteration in global consciousness will also play a major role in the rise of the Seven Celtic Nations, and their independence from European dynasties.

That is, I will have accomplished the impossible. Which is to take a dying language and transform it into the planetary language of choice.

How’s that for thinking big?


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