Luv is a Drug

March 1, 2014

Dear [ owner ],

As the proprietor of [ gay bar in the Castro ], I think you should be made aware of a possible drug dealer frequenting your premises. If he only dealt in marijuana, I wouldn’t even bother to inform you. However, I suspect this person of using your locale to sell hard drugs to patrons…such as meth, crack and heroine. How do I know this?

His name is Larkin Kelsey, a very handsome and charismatic fellow around 52 years old, but looks all of 29. We’ve been on-and-off good friends since I first met him at the old Hole in the Wall Saloon back in 2006. Due to recent conflicts with him, I now realize he was probably a dealer at that saloon, which is (as you probably realize) the best gay bar to sell speed. But back then, I had no idea he was involved, though I should’ve figured it out before now.

Anyway, since he’s moved to the Castro about three years ago, he’s suddenly turned hostile towards me. Our friendship till then has been very sweet to the point I’d call us “platonic lovers.” I’ve lived in the Castro since 1983, and was at first overjoyed to discover he’s moved just one block from my own residence. Unfortunately, things turned sour very quickly.

He has driven me out of all the bars in this neighborhood, telling bartenders and patrons alike that I’m his stalker. When in truth, I only showed up now and then to enjoy his company, just as I did when he lived South of Market. And he always welcomed me until this sudden attack. So I was shocked and heartbroken over his accusation.

I’ve spent many months trying to resolve our conflict, but he continues to avoid me, and has never rectified the gossip he spread against me. My letter here is not a vendetta, but a sincere regard for a friend who I cherish dearly. And it recently occurred to me that his hateful behavior was to drive me out of all the Castro bars, his new network.

There are other possibilities I’ve considered, regarding his sudden betrayal…but nothing makes sense except that he deals hard drugs in the Castro, since he’s been driven out of SOMA. My worry is that he’ll eventually get busted and wind up in prison…which will cause me more grief than I’ve already borne. I want him to STOP, though trying to speak with him on this matter has proven futile.

Mr. Kelsey is incredibly charismatic, possessing not just outstanding good looks, but a charming personality that would knock anyone’s socks off. Therefore, he pretty much can get away with anything, including murder (to speak metaphorically). He’s even a wonderful man, in spite of this dark side. It is therefore my hope that driving him out of the gay bars will compel him to seek a legal source to earn a living.

Though his solution may simply be to create a new network in the Polk Street corridor. Certainly, I hope not, but even a best friend can only do so much to direct a loved one onto a better path.

I’m sure that Larkin is well connected with various bartenders, managers, and perhaps owners…such that my letter to you may prove fruitless, and even cause me harm. But I do not shrug from any repercussions, as my intent is sincere, and comes only from great regard for someone I consider my very best friend of all time, no matter what.

In case you don’t already know him, I now describe: 6-foot-4, on the skinny side but very strong, funny, handsome and pretty much the life of the party wherever he goes. He has gorgeous fiery-orange eyes, and a ruddy head of dark-brown hair that now shows a little gray. He often changes his hair style: one week a buzz cut, another week a fluffy halo, and yet another week a trim yuppie appearance. In fact, sometimes he alters his hair color. In other words it is hard to resist such a gracious personality. In fact, you may have already been seduced by his gifts…

thus view me as a nuisance at best. I am willing to take that risk, for the sake of a man who I believe is worth all the trouble in the world. I even published a book about him (for the most part), which you may read here:

That is a free ebook copy of my novel “Free Me From This Bond,” in pdf format. Which can be read on almost any system, whether PC, Mac, tablet or cell phone. Most of the true tales occurred here in the Castro, or SOMA. You can also go here, to view the book cover and read the first chapter:

After reading chapter 1, you’ll understand why Mr. Kelsey means so much to me, and why I am willing to stick my neck out, that he may change his life around for the better. I can’t imagine any other reason than being a drug dealer, why he pushed me out of his life and banned me from all the bars in my own neighborhood. Only because (I conclude) he can’t afford to have anyone get too close to him, or they’ll discover the truth.

The owners of the Hole in the Wall Saloon 86’d him permanently. So I advise you to contact them, to find out why…and perhaps confirm my suspicion.

I am not afraid to give you my real name, phone number and address, even if you consider Larkin a friend. I am only doing this from the sincerest regard for a man who means the world to me. I have lived in San Francisco since 1973, and been a prominent gay street activist since 1983. Evidence of my record of achievements can be found on my web site at:

Thank you so much for your attention. Please feel free to contact me, if you wish.

Most sincerely,

Ezekiel J. Krahlin

3 March 2014

My Beloved Dragon & Best Friend, Sweet Larkin:

Just to let you know I have such great love for you, I could never turn it off. Even if you should disappear from my world, not a single day would go by without my thinking of you, and wishing to be with you, even if just for a moment or two once or twice a week. I will take this noble wish to the grave, if it comes to that. But I really hope it doesn’t, as even one more day without a hug devastates my soul like death by fire. So each day w/o your kindness, you need to know, is another day of torment. I have been in hell since the day you shoved me (back in January 2013), yet you seem to want to keep me there for god only knows how long.

You continue to treat me like shit, no matter how kind I am to you. It has been well over a year since we last hugged…and that is certainly a grief in my heart. I don’t even care if you’re a drug dealer. For I know you are the best in whatever you do, and would never allow a customer to OD or be ripped off by inferior product. IOW: if only all drug dealers were like you! Yet it seems like you think I’m a threat to your underground vocation, so much so that you had to drive me out of all the Castro’s gay bars.

Why you continue to humiliate and vilify me, I do understand: that I may grow into the ultimate Soldier of God ever known in the entire history of humanity. For it is through tragedy and crisis that our souls best flourish. Nonetheless I say: “Enough is enough!” You seem to have a good life as it now stands, but which also seems to depend on an equal measure of misery for this heart-broken soul. Which makes you sort of a psychic vampire!

I love you so much, and care about you with infinite regard, that I feel terrible shame over your cold treatment that has now spanned more than 14 months. Surely I couldn’t bear more than five to seven weeks further disregard, of your ongoing mind-fuks, before I’d finally perish for lack of your affection. Frankly, I am ready to die after so much hostility in my life, that has remained ponderously nerve-wracking since the day I was born. Exhaustion begets loss of soul and with that, eventual dissolution of the flesh.

I thought you wanted a truce…even though it was you who instigated this war, both consciously and willingly. But you have not resumed our friendly encounters filled with incredible hugs. That is: you’ve greatly diminished our association as it stood, before you started to fuk with me. Me, who adores you in so many ways. Me, who continues to live in isolation without any real friends, and many sad memories/tragedies that have surrounded every lovely man who brought great solace to my life (even if only for one night).

And it looks like you are to become yet one more sad outcome, in spite of my undying faith in God’s love, and in the divinity of Gay Liberation. Though I assure you, Larkin: “this is my last hurrah!” As Randolph was quoted shortly after his 40-day fast…which led some months later to a suicide attempt. Not that I intend to play the “suicide card” upon you (even though you deserve it), but to inform you that my life has become worthless, thanks to all the unkindness by our Castro community, along with your own brand of callous sputum.

It saddens me immensely to think that you’d never miss me should I perish before you do. Which only makes me crave for an end to this life even more. But that is how things go: the death of a loved one badly scorned while alive, winds up touching the hearts of many who refused to admit their appreciation while the martyr was still alive. So prepare yourself for this outcome, because this looks like where I’m soon headed.

You’ve given me many indications that you love me, and that I should just hang in there. Yet in equal measure, you’ve persecuted me in many ways. So I give up, buddy. I cannot bear your pushing me away during the rare moments I have a chance to spend one or two minutes with you…to exchange a new joke, or express my love for your friendship. It is now too painful for me to walk by you at Twin Peaks Tavern or anywhere else, knowing that you’ll just ignore me or walk by as if I don’t even exist.

Ha, ha, very funny. I know you’ll return all my love in immense measure, eventually. But such prescience no longer soothes my aching soul, Larkin! I need you now, I need you like the pollen needs the wind, like the heart needs the artery. But if it’s truly your pleasure to lose me into the anonymity of strangers, I really prefer to give up the ghost. For it is way too painful for me any more, to live on will o’ the wisps…to believe that you haven’t the least bit delight in my presence.

My adoration for you cannot be quenched, yet I fear you’ll continue to abuse my faith in you…which loyalty is a very noble thing to do for anyone. How aggrieved I’ve become though, as I continue to play the dupe to your latest schemes…only because I’ve sacrificed my heart to the altar of your own sweet soul. But I guess you know better (being my Guardian Dragon and all), when and where to restore our extraordinary rapport.

Yet I realize the likelihood I must confront your mandates, as a necessary process in fulfilling your challenges. IOW: you want me to oppose you! You want me to find a way to drive you out of the Castro, for your accusing me of being your stalker, thus getting me evicted from all the local bars. And since you haven’t lifted a single finger (after more than a year since your bogus accusation) to rectify your offenses, I must get back at you, or lose your respect.

But I surrender, Larkin! I refuse to play out your game plan any further. You keep changing the rules on a whim, and never allow me to create any laws in exchange. Everything is tremendously biased in your favor, you goddamn father fukker!

I wish you a great life w/o me, Dear Larkin. But your BS has gone on too long for me to continue participating in this Castro Village Soap Opera. Don’t know how it’s possible, but I have absolute faith that God shall find me an even more beautiful, talented and darling man than yourself! Who shall delight my heart so much, I’ll actually forget all about you…in the same fashion as meeting you made me stop praying for Randolph.

And I have a sneaking suspicion this man’s name is Arwyn.

Sincerely (but most regrettably),



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: