Letter to my Brother, 8/4/16

August 4, 2016

[ Flaboromous Reader: printed out and sent by snail mail, including the image at top. ]

August 4, 2016

Hey there, Vince and Darcy!

Well this is awkward, my brother, as regards your printout sent to me. I googled “obamacare after 76” only to call up a ton of sites claiming this is a hoax that has been running around the Internet since 2009. But I already thought it might be, since the statement “make 20 copies and send to others” set off a little alarm in the back of my head. For this is a common phrase (or one similar) used in chain mail. Be that as it may, there are plenty of justified grievances against Obamacare that I see no reason to make anything up. Bad enough my own struggle to expose expanded Medicaid’s exorbitant share of cost as a death sentence to millions…only to be accused of being a liar and even a right-wing saboteur, by many. But there are folks out there who hear me, and appreciate my courage and efforts to bring out the truth despite difficult odds. So I am making headway.

Regarding my “No PrEP for the Poor” letter in the Castro Courier: the remarkable thing about their publishing it, is that rarely does a newspaper print a letter to the editor that is longer than two paragraphs. But if they really like what you have to say, they usually either pare it down themselves, or contact the author and request he do that himself. This may be vain to declare, but I like to think that whatever I have to say is important to the world, and that I’ve already condensed my essay in as few words as possible to the point where any further subtraction would be detrimental.

So when I send a letter out to this or that publication, I just don’t give a fuk whether or not they think the piece is too long. And, more often than not, I have my way. Besides, all my letters to editors are also posted to my WordPress blog (embellished with eye-catching images, as you already know), my Facebook wall, my Twitter account, my LinkedIn update, my Gay Bible site, and my emailing list.

I certainly hope someone is listening, regarding the import of my letter, and that it will reach and influence the proper channels to right this tragic wrong. But I have long ago concluded that belief in yourself should never be allowed to wither on the vine, simply because the results you seek from any effort are not fulfilled. Or better said: “are not apparent.” No matter how much you busted your cojones. For it is an absurd notion to believe that God does not answer all worthy prayers. Of course He does, just not in your own time, but His. Which leads me into the topic of what I think is the best way to pray:

Prayer is only effective when backed with action. Such as when you, Vince, show your kindness to neighbors by plowing snow from their driveways. But it is also good to set aside some time every night in silent, traditional prayer. Though I think many folks get this wrong…for in their praying they obsess over someone’s worst case scenario every time they kneel down to plead for God’s intercession. Here is what I think is a better way:

The first time you pray for someone suffering tragedy, I guess it’s okay to fantasize “what if” horrid outcomes. But really, worry does no one any good, it only causes further stress and spreads anxiety to others, including perhaps the person for whom you pray. Besides, it only shows one’s lack of faith that God does, indeed, fulfill all compassionate wishes. So after that first prayer–and every prayer thereafter–one ought to thank God ahead of time for answering your prayer. And in so thanking, place an image in your mind of that person’s recovery, and a joyful outcome all around. The rest is in God’s hands, and I assure you: those hands are Grace personified.

Tip straight from Gabriel’s mouth: humor is always a great balm to one who is suffering, when done with kindness.

Please allow me to clarify, though, by saying that, if you sometimes fall back into a worst-case scenario fear while you pray, by no means will God fail you in your time of grief. Nor will your heartfelt plea be any less heard for that. To believe otherwise is, simply, superstition. For praying should never be seen as appeasing God; it is, actually, your soul’s willful desire to share the cross of another. Even if you don’t pray, God know’s the ache in your heart, and is already on it, with the commission of his merciful angels.

It is easy to get bitter, especially if your prayer is not answered in the time you think due. Or “does not seem to be answered,” I should say. For I have found that prayers are oftentimes answered in secret, even to the one who prays. And that is why I know I’ve done a good thing with my letter to the editor…with all my letters to the editor over the years. And why I thank God for answering every one of them, although I may not discern the outcome in this lifetime.

Yet I have been blessed from time to time, with a prayer here or a prayer there, being answered rather quickly, and which I witness with my own eyes. Most recently, regarding my adventures with Zach…but also with Larkin.

My sincerest prayers are with Darcy, that her arthritis clear up promptly. And that she find a long term solution towards easing its ravages, and the pain that goes with it. No matter the source, or how surprising.

In loving memory of Mom and Dad,

Ezekiel J. Krahlin

Just How Dark A Day?

October 24, 2014

What kind of Guardian Dragon are you, Larkin? You say our friendship is an incredible godsend (with beloved enthusiasm, I might add), yet you otherwise ignore me, avoid me, tell me to get the fuk outta your face…and in many other ways, humiliate me in public, and bully me! I published a novel to honor your sweet friendship, and continue to write many tales which you inspire. I send them to you via snail-mail, yet not once have you ever said “thank you” for my kind letters and postcards. Nor have you sent me (via the USPS or other delivery option) any expression of friendship or appreciation of my steadfast devotion. But I admit:

You have also done and said many nice things for me, in addition to your “godsend” praise, over these same many months during which you’ve broken my heart so often I’ve lost count. I choose to respond for the most part, with patience, compassion and humor. Yet sometimes I deem it necessary to retaliate (as I did with those postcards sent to various gay bars), because I just don’t let anyone defame my character…and because I doubt you’d respect me if I did not take action now and then.

Yet I remain in complete faith that your egregious behavior serves a compassionate purpose in the long run. And which I believe is thus:

You are My Most Adored Soulmate, above and beyond even Randolph Louis Taylor. Which is nothing short of a miracle; thus your acknowledgment that our being brought together is a godsend. I thank you so much for speaking those divine words, which put wings to my troubled heart.

There are (or were, I hope with great pleading to Our Higher Self) certain end trials I must go through, before we are brought together for eternity. Some of which require you, My Exhilarating Zilla, to open old sores and rub salt in them, that they may finally heal in a proper fashion. Hence, you drop a hint now and then via a kind gesture or declaration, in between all the hurtful episodes.

And I love you for that. (More than words can truly tell, I assure you Luscious, Lovely Larkin!)

These trials are also part of a long term initiation that I foolishly presumed would end after three or four months from its inception…or at the most, five months. Boy was I in for disappointment…seeing as This Trial Of Love’s Labor has continued unto 22 months with no end in sight!

Yet I grasp your noble desire to drag me over this bed of nails as long as possible. For that is the only way to ensure eternal bliss with your chosen partner. You are My Guardian Dragon, who would not hesitate even one nanosecond to bring havoc and misery upon me, should Goddess inform you that is precisely what I need to experience in order for my soul to expand. And if you make things too easy, I’d never learn what important lessons are required to forge The Greatest Friendship Ever. A friendship that will expand well beyond our personal horizons, and eventually touch every sentient being on this wobbly little planet.

Which outcome, of course, will likewise expand respect and reverence for sexual minorities everywhere. Our tale is the greatest romance ever, and it is not between a male and a female (like Romeo & Juliet), but between two 100% gay men! And a real-live detective story to boot! So allow me to shower you now, with tremendous affection, and this promise:

I will always be here for you, Larkin, for that is Goddess’s blessing to us both. Our friendship, our being brought together, is indeed an incredible godsend!

So I saw you today, Oct. 21, approach Duboce Park around 2:30 PM as usual, walking that sweet smallish doggie that is mostly black, with a white tipped tail and one or two paws just as white. I was already awaiting you for more than 20 minutes, strutting up and down Duboce and scoring the occasional snipe. Just when I was about to give up on you, there you are with a red haversack that mimics mine, and canine in tow.

You seemed not disturbed over my presence as you crossed the street and entered the park. As for myself, I followed obliquely and settled on the grassy mound that occupied the “dogs-on-leash” section. You stood around 22 yards away, flinging the tennis ball to give your charge some exercise…and camaraderie I guess (which you’re very good at, and which I miss like a bear misses berries).

After several minutes had passed, I knew you were about to leave. Thus I stood up, brushed the newly cut grass off my Levi’s, and marched to the top of the mound. Whence I stood a distance, facing you and waiting for your sweet face to glance in my direction. And when it did, I spread my arms in a wide air hug, sending you rays of gratitude.

I did this two more times, after moving each time further away. Till I was situated at the inbound side of the Muni Metro stop.

Then the downtown-bound N Judah careened out of the tunnel to block any view of Duboce Park for a half minute or so before rumbling off. By that time, you were no longer present anywhere in the quadrangle…and which result I anticipated, knowing how clever you are in timing your disappearance from my passionate visions. You are a frustration-and-a-half, yet I comprehend the purpose of your tease, as described seven paragraphs above.

I am begging you, Larkin:

Please don’t leave me struggling alone on Christmas Day, thinking once more about Randolph, and how you don’t care enough to give me comfort on This Most Holy of Days. Bad enough that I must pass through Halloween and Thanksgiving without Your Gracious Presence!

Must Christmas also be just as dark a day?

The Breath of the Buddha

September 10, 2014


If you are underage, or in any way forbidden by your government or religious laws from viewing X-rated subject matter, please do not go there. If, however, you are not restricted by any laws in your geographical location, by all means click on the image above, to read my spicy tale.

A Cautionary Email

August 23, 2014

From: A Friend of Bryan
To: Zeke Krahlin
Date: Mon, 18 Aug 2014 13:28:30
ZekeBlog 2.0 Comment

I’ve just read your ‘Another One Bites the Faery Dust‘ and hope that you take a little of your apparent precious time to read my note to you in response.

I apologize you never got the chance to know Bryan. I am truly sorry that you apparently haven’t been able to come to terms with your own apparent issues which after reading your blog you do in fact have. Otherwise people wouldn’t disregard you or invalidate you. I’m sorry that for some reason in your sad little life you feel you have the right to judge others merely by their appearance.

I would tell you about Bryan and could probably give you some insight into why you may have gotten some of the responses that you received or say you received from him. I can tell you that he was far from wealthy in a monetary sense. But he was apparently much wealthier than you’ll ever hope to be in the fact that he was loved and cared for by so many both in San Francisco as well as back home in Michigan.

Are you sure it wasn’t a reflection of yourself staring at you with soulless eyes because everytime I looked into his they were comforting and welcoming.

I believe you Zeke are just a hateful, narcissistic being and hope that nothing like this ever happens to you.

And if it does I’m certain that someone will be blogging ‘Good riddance’ to your existance and that they “Never gave a fuk” about you.

As for a Mama’s boy, I will give you that much. Yes he was, right up until she died 7 years ago while Bryan and I held her hand.

Don’t judge, get off your soapbox as you are no better than anyone else. You obviously know this and it just makes you feel better to insult others. I apologize that you’ll never know love because if you did you damn sure wouldn’t be the hateful son of a bitch that you are now.

Date: Mon, 18 Aug 2014 14:06:36
Re: ZekeBlog 2.0 Comment
From: Zeke Krahlin
To: A Friend of Bryan

That’s okay you are upset with me. I am attempting to dredge out certain reactions by community residents. As assistant to a detective, I play the decoy. There is a cult connected with this murder which my associate and I have been pursuing for almost nine years now. More than half were busted in 2007…but the remaining goons have migrated to the Castro.

Which is where I’ve been living since 1983. The detective has moved less than a block from me, for my protection. This cult intentionally spreads tragedy and mayhem through gay neighborhoods, many of whom are gay themselves.. I have to come off as a pathetic flake in order to protect myself, as well as catch some suspects off guard. They have already killed several of my friends since 2008, and have frightened other potential friends away from me. Thanks to this cult, I’ve been existing in virtual social isolation, except for my detective buddy.

AFAICT all remaining cult members will soon be rounded up and thrown into prison. They are the main reason the Castro presently suffers a dangerous uptick in violent crime.

Anyways, my apologies for getting you caught in a bit of crossfire.

From: Zeke Krahlin
To: A Friend of Bryan
Date: Tue, 19 Aug 2014 10:17:09
Re: ZekeBlog 2.0 Comment

A Friend of Bryan wrote:

{{ My apologies for the many insults. As no one should know your position, neither did I. It’s still very much raw as I’m sure you’ve experienced and can imagine.

Good luck to you }}

No problem,I don’t blame you one bit. Bringing out anger in a group is one tactic that helps flush out suspects. My scathing remarks against Bryan will be removed in two weeks…that’s plenty long for my purpose. Then, I’ll repost that blog entry and give him honors.

I am very concerned about two of my homeless friends out there, considering the violence going on. They are both great guys and are moving ahead with their lives…and I’m very proud of them. Wouldn’t even know they’re homeless at this point, they’re so clean and considerate. Last thing I need is to lose them, too. In fact, I wrote about one of ’em in that piece which includes Bryan. It’s at the very end section called “ThankDragon for Trace.”

It is not that you shouldn’t know about my activities, I am at the tail end of a long and crazy journey, and it is okay for me to reveal /some/ of what I do. IOW, I’m pretty much outta the woods now. FYI, my first book is out, and the reader learns how I stumbled onto this cult, and a wonderful man who I discover is a detective. All true, with my own flights of fancy interjected. You may read it for free online, at:


One purpose of that book (though there are many others) is to expose this cult and cease their misery.

Book 2 is also up there, so is Book 3 (a work in progress). I am actually greatly blessed and honored that kismet brought me such adventures, and a great love in this handsome detective, whose real name is Larkin Kelsey…though in Book 1, I use the pseudonym “Arwyn Miles”…and made him 6-foot-7 instead of his actual 6-foot-4. He gave me permission to use his real name starting with Book 2. It is my dream to use the profits off my publications to open a home for severely disabled LGBT veterans. And employ good people on the streets for whatever position suits them (cooks, companions, drivers, gardeners, accountants, etc.).

Those followers of my WordPress blog can keep up with my present adventures…most of which will be put into Book 3. But here are some tales there you might enjoy (in chronological order):

But It Won’t Make Me Happy

A Little Lizard’s Lament

Letter to Zachary

He Shoved Me Again!

I’m a Decoy for the SFPD!

Four Times in One Day

The Misery & The Ecstasy

Some of my blog readers BTW, are members of the SFPD. For in my tales I often include details about the homeless, both the good and the bad. That their work may be eaiser to fulfill, in as compassionate a way as possible. Again, you have nothing to be sorry for, standing up for a good friend. My role is a most awkward (and often thankless) task…though the rewards will be immense, and will benefit not only myself, but gay folks at large.

Blessed be!

– Zeke Krahlin

From: A Friend of Bryan
To: Zeke Krahlin
Date: Tue, 19 Aug 2014 16:23:58
Re: ZekeBlog 2.0 Comment

I did in fact read just about everything on your page yesterday trying to in a sense figure you out. Bryan’s mother was my best friend and sadly her time was cut very short as well. I became very close to him in the time she was in the hospital and drew what strength I needed to get through that ordeal from him. She made me her POA which is not easy for anyone but given she was married, had 4 children, 2 brothers and a sister it made things a little more difficult given the remarks and the second guessing.

Knowing him the way I did and knowing the demons that he constantly fought I was obviously immediately livid when I read your blog. If you do in fact work with the detectives out there and are familiar with this case then I’m certain you’re aware of said demons as well. There were times he was a little rough around the edges but I never knew him to take those feelings out on anyone but himself so I hope you see where I’m coming from and I look forward to reading the reposted version. Thank you for the links, and for the insight. I really do appreciate it and I will check them out when I get home.

Have a beautiful evening Zeke.

From: Zeke Krahlin
To: A Friend of Bryan
Date: Tue, 19 Aug 2014 18:20:14
Re: ZekeBlog 2.0 Comment

A Friend of Bryan wrote:

{{ I did in fact read just about everything on your page yesterday trying to in a sense figure you out. Your empathic nature is /most/ impressive…and I thank you for bearing with me. }}

I will soon compose a very sweet memorial to Bryan, though I hardly knew him. And I promise: I am /not/ deceiving you, it /will/ show up on that blog entry by Sept. 1, if not earlier. In fact, I’ll send you the redaction soon as I complete it, which I will be working on tonight and tomorrow.

Yes, I work with a detective, a private eye hired by the SFPD. They needed an outside gumshoe, because some members of this cult /are/ San Francisco cops. How I stumbled into this cult, and became a detective’s assistant is an amazing story in its own right. I do /not/ get any remuneration for my good works…but in the long run I will. Though what really matters is righting egregious wrongs, even if I wind up homeless.

What is strange (and remarkable) is that I found a “gray hoodie” near Duboce Park, the next day after the murder of Bryan. The suspect was described as wearing a gray hoodie. That next day (Monday, July 18) I was strolling through Duboce Park on the way back home. At Noe & 15th I found a discarded jacket. It was a thin-leather outer shell, with a gray-hoodie lining. And in such perfect, new condition, I couldn’t understand why anyone would discard it.

Now, with some hindsight after learning of Bryan’s demise, I /do/ comprehend. Though it may not be the same jacket that the criminal wore, I wonder if any witness just noticed the gray hood and not the black leather that covered the jacket itself…thus, described it as a “gray hoodie.” It was only yesterday that I considered this possibility, and a shiver went up my spine.

But before this realization, I passed on this jacket to a dear street friend, whom I shall call “Trace” in my tales. Now, I wonder if the street thug will spot his jacket on my buddy, and attack him, too. Life is quite bizarre, and this is not the first time I have been thrust into an extraordinary circumstance. Though I have faith that Trace shall not be victimized. In the sense that even the worst souls on this planet must be liberated and forgiven for their heinous deeds.Therefore I interpret this “jacket” episode as a sign of some sort of spiritual liberation for the perpetrator. But I will also tell you this:

From the recent wisdom I have gained about Life’s Workings, no one really suffers the horrid acts of violence and murder…in fact, no one actually /dies/, but is shunted to another sphere of heavenly peace before such an incident occurs. Whereby angels replace their souls and act out the remainder of their deathly throes…that we, as external observers, can learn compassion and long suffering without any person actually experiencing such horror.

Most folks get quite upset at the claims I just made to you in the above paragraphs. Understandable, ’cause it does get complicated. But I conclude that if God (or Goddess or the Great Spirit or Spaghetti Monster or what have you) is truly compassionate, he or she would /never/ allow any human being to go through such nasty outcomes. What I am saying implies thusly to Bryan:

Well before he was attacked and killed, his soul departed to a heavenly existence. And an angel’s spirit occupied his shell of a body during the time he was brutally destroyed. Thus, we (as observers) may suffer his loss and hopefully learn to be more loving towards others, not just our close friends, but strangers as well. For it is my belief at this point, that if Our Creator (or Universal Mind) is a truly loving God, this is how he teaches us to grow kinder and more concerned about /all/ people on this planet.

This philosophy of a benevolent creator I have expounded upon in my essay “NeoPositivity, a Gay Religion” which you may read here:


This wisdom has made things so much easier to help bust a cult that I stumbled onto more than seven years ago. And realize that, while I might experience a close call now and then, I will always be perfectly fine. Take this as you will, I don’t expect every single person to understand where I’m coming from. In fact, most people /don’t/. But in these last several years of personal experiences, this ideology has proven itself to me, 100% of the time, to be the absolute truth.

While realization to the greater part of humanity will prove to be a godsend to many long-suffering and sweet-natured souls.

I will not tell Trace of my suspicion about where that jacket came from, as it will probably freak him out and cause him to get rid of it. There is great joy for me to part with something which I valued greatly. Due to his incredible achievements in overcoming the brutality of surviving the streets, to present him with such a lovely gift I know will do wonders for his ultimate success.

And that, perhaps, is the liberating aspect of one who has committed a grisly crime.

Yours truly,



IT HAS OCCURRED TO ME that one of your “friends” on Facebook may have discouraged you from my posting to my page. Because I noticed someone in your list who is /not/ a very nice man. He is part of a clique that has for years denigrated me, and chased any potential friend or lover away (by instilling fear in them against me). I know who it is, and can tell you in person. His name starts with a “W” (whether first or last I will not say in this message).

The fact that you still keep me off your FB page indicates that someone may have spoken bad about me. You made a rather suspicious excuse for not re-friending me: “Oh, you needed a few days off from getting back on” (I paraphrase). That doesn’t make any sense…because I didn’t. I know myself better than you or anyone else. (Except perhaps Larkin, for he /is/ my Guardian Dragon.)

Another excuse you recently made for distancing yourself from me, is that you had some ex-wife BS to deal with, and you “needed your own space” for a while. I also need to vent on something you said about what “friendship” means:

You stated that the employees at Bean There /are/ my friends. Nope. They are friendly ’cause that is good for business…and I’m sure they’re nice people outside of work. But the point I tried to make (though you stormed off and slammed the door before I could) is this:


These Bean There workers are not people I spend time with in any way, shape or form. Not a one has invited me to hang out with him (or her). Therefore:


But I think you already know this, thus I am suspicious of your /real/ motives.

The people in this neighborhood and city are, for the most part, disgusting. They have compartmentalized me into social isolation…none speak well of me. In spite of my /many/ years’ devotion to LGBT rights. Though friendly enough to my face…they have never introduced me to their other friends as a veteran gay activist and author of many years. Nor do they /ever/ run up to greet me, or present themselves with a genuine smile. An indication they’d rather have nothing to do with me, and wish me to disappear.

Such social invisibility makes me quite vulnerable to thugs roaming the streets at night…as they choose those who appear vulnerable and friendless. IOW I am an easy mark for their homophobia.

So other long term residents such as Linda (laundromat manager), Guy (who sells flowers at Noe & 15th) and Les (who runs the liquor/grocery store just across the street from Guy)…are potential murderers. They isolate good people like me, that I may become more susceptible to violent attacks. Hoping of course to eliminate me w/o any mark of blood on their hands. And such deplorable behavior is how a neighborhood can be more readily manipulated by this cult I’ve described to you numerous times.

In fact, I’d say that such 2-faced neighbors are willful members of this cult. Know the saying: “God forgive them, for they know not what they do?” Well, what strikes me as particularly evil about these dirtbags, is they KNOW what they do!


FURTHERMORE: The only thing you’ve said to me, the only thing you’ve posted back to me after my numerous FB messages is “I love you, Zeke.” Do you think that ameliorates every question I’ve put before you?

You deny me the respect of speaking my opinion after thrusting verbal kok down my throat, then slamming the door in my face, so I can’t speak up. Larkin has done the same to me, as have many others. Causing me tremendous frustration, anger and grief. So I’m left to do what…vent myself via FB messaging, never knowing whether or not you even read them? For all I know, you’ve blocked me; or if not, just delete them immediately. Same pattern as Larkin, whose roommate told me he doesn’t even read my letters, just tosses them into the garbage unopen. Very beautiful tales which he’s inspired, some of which you’ve already seen.

When I tried to speak truth to you, you rudely interjected: “That’s /your/ reality, not mine!” Which is simply and purely HOGWASH. For I was speaking about friendship, and your definition of this was way too broad a term to hold any validity. I was explaining UNIVERSAL HUMAN TRUTH that does not vary from one person’s reality to another. I pointed out that you already /have/ solid and true friends via family and other long term associations. I do not. Therefore, it is an easy thing for /you/ to claim many friends in the city after only being here several months.

You can /enjoy/ superficial friendships because you already have a base of /real/ friends to lean on. But in /my/ case, all I’ve ever known are friendly acquaintances who disappear almost as quickly as they appear. Therefore, not having any true friends in my life causes great suffering and isolation for me…when you add up all the /years/ it’s been that way for yours truly. San Francisco is a highly transient city, which exacerbates this lonely situation immensely, especially for low-income people like myself.

I find it curious that when I asked if you’ve read my messages, you made up some faux excuse about how the Facebook app seems to disrupt viewing my posts. While I suggested you switch to a more reliable FB app, “Tinfoil,” I really don’t believe you.


FACEBOOK MESSAGE TO BRASUS – August 20 (later same day)

I noticed your notes on the back porch…very impressive. There has been a lovely tradition in 2306 of leaving nice items on the back porch for others to enjoy. But the last few building managers have pretty much put the kibash on this tradition. You understand what’s going on. Your reprimanding residents for not separating their trash is also spot on. Just because they have money to toss around, does not give them carte blanche to not cooperate in an important ecological movement (which is nothing less than saving this planet).

It is my conclusion there are one or more residents performing acts that make the manager think I’m the culprit. So that he will turn his anger upon yours truly, and get me evicted. Which will, of course, backfire. I just want to say thank you.

YOU HAVE BIG BALLS, BRASUS (and maybe some day I’ll get to lick them all night long).


So today I discover that Brasus has blocked me from his Facebook page, the only way he allowed me to communicate with him other than knocking (or leaving a message) on his door. Guess he can’t take the truth…which I believe I presented in as compassionate a way as possible. I therefore conclude he’s another one of your Castro Clone Losers. Fitting in for the acceptance of Upper Middle Class Queers who control the city, and exclude and spit on the remaining poor who are mostly homeless. With the exception of a few “gracious” benefactors who lavish the street urchins with the occasional jacket, socks, cigerettes, tina and what have you. Such as you, Brasus.

Obviously he has sold out to the many arrogant ciliques abounding the Gay Community here in Sf, and most likely in every liberal city of America if not the world. So now I’m stuck with a possibly aggressive enemy as my next door neighbor (206) right here in 2306 Market Street.

But I signed on with a new Facebook account via another gmail profile. Sure enough, his “page not available” that came up with my standard email, this time around presented the Full Monty. Ergo, the fukker’s shitting all over me. So much for having a kind ally for a neighbor. Silly me to ever expect such a nice thing to ever really occur. So I left him two sticky-notes on his apartment door:




Revision completed, safe to put it up now. Redactions begin right after his photo. It’s not “glowing” praise, but a fairer rendering of Bryan, and the tragedy of our community’s elitism. Here’s an anchor link to take you right to the Bryan Higgins section: https://zekeblog.wordpress.com/2014/08/17/youre-a-bad-boy-brasus/#faerydust.

Friend of Bryan:

Not “glowing” but IMO a bazillion times better than what I read that led me to you originally. I hope you don’t mind that I shared a portion of one of your emails on my Facebook page. It was and is extremely comforting to think he didn’t suffer per se. I was talking to his uncle and didn’t have the exact verbiage but sent him the portion I shared and he feels the same. To attempt to explain Bryan’s ‘dismissal’ when you asked his name Bryan was bi-polar and schizophrenic and quite often would go off his meds. You may have caught him during one of those many times. He for the most part handled himself quite well, when he felt he needed to or when he began to go into a manic state he would begin taking his meds again. Not the healthiest way to treat his illness or disorders or whatever you want to call them but he believed in more holistic remedies. So let me attempt to offer you an apology for my ‘adopted’ son. He really was a beautiful creature. Again, thank you so much for the updated blog. I know you didn’t know him, he really wasn’t one to judge, I do indeed like this version much more than the first. And thank you for the kind emails. Much love to you. <3


The outrage you posted to me, is exactly the kind of response I wanted at certain community meetings over Bryan’s murder. Then Detective Kelsey could observe /which/ faces did not emote anger towards my callous accusations…or which faces mimicked outrage in order to blend in. He now has a trail on four people who match the desired “lack” of rage. At least one of them may be a cult member, who can then possibly lead the PD to the proper suspect. For it is my belief (and that of Larkin and several other associates) that this attack was orchestrated by this cult (which I call for want of knowing their /real/ title: Disciples of the Zodiac Killer). They are quite clever and surreptitious, using gossip and emotionally disturbed people on the streets, like puppets totally unaware of their controllers. Thus, the cult gets away with many crimes. SPOILER ALERT: Book 1’s Chapter 13, “The Phone Call,” introduces the reader to the cult: https://zekeblog.wordpress.com/2012/04/27/the-phone-call/. And the reader also learns, for the first time, that Larkin is a detective.


And it may well be that since this cult clocks my every move once outside and strolling the Castro, they witnessed my several friendly conversations with Bryan. The cult drives away, injures or even kills anyone they perceive could become a friend in my life. Thus the possibility that I am an unintentional instrument of his death.

Friend of Bryan:

I would like to think what happened was ‘random’ and that it had nothing to do with anyone in particular except this evil animals cruel nature. Whatever his/their intention may have been. I do intend to respond further, things are chaotic to say the least. And I work 7 days a week. I would prefer to respond via computer rather than my phone. It’s a bit easier. So I will chat with you soon. <3


I don’t own a cell phone, I have an android tablet and a Windoze laptop. But I want to end this conversation on a truly positive note: If I am correct in my understanding of life’s machinations described earlier, which evolved out of meditating for years on the Buddha’s statement: “we have no enemies, only teachers”…then nothing more than an incredible tragicomedy is unfolding in my world, and that of the SF Gay Family. Some play the role of evil, some die after a short appearance, and some my protectors with Larkin at the helm. Therefore:

No one killed Bryan, who is simply one of these actors playing out his chosen role. The entire scenario is exquisitely orchestrated, and for whatever reason are making me the hero of This Gay Soap Opera. It’s been going on for almost a decade now…but it wasn’t till approx’ly 4 years ago that I began to figure out what’s going on. And now that I have, I blog about it, that others may enjoy and grow wise.

This also explains why I am not so grief-struck any more, whenever another tragedy hits our neighborhood like a meteorite. It’s all a game, a beautiful game, which outcome will be unbelievably joyful. Though it may not manifest until just before the last scene plays out and the curtain falls.

Too Close To Home

August 11, 2014


If you are underage, or in any way forbidden by your government or religious laws from viewing X-rated subject matter, please do not go there. If, however, you are not restricted by any laws in your geographical location, by all means click on the pilgrims above, to read my spicy tale. Otherwise, click here.

Two Visions

July 15, 2014

Friday, July 11:

Funny vision yesterday afternoon while strolling first through Duboce Park, then down Noe Street, when the revelation began (short but sweet):

A shadow passed over me and almost the entire city. I looked up. A ginormous UFO just like in Hollywood films, loomed overhead. People all around started screaming, waving their arms like a broken windmill, and skeltering off in all directions.

But me? I just stood there, looking up in prayerful praise (my hands almost clasped):

“Oh thank God! Oh thank God!”

Another vision came later in the day, nighttime in fact. Wonderful Gabriel is finally back from Los Angeles/Santa Monica, and blessed me with another sweet visit. Along with three chocolate-covered and THC-laced coffee beans! So this vision came under the influence of Mary Jane.

I saw Larkin standing in the center of the Castro (where Market, 17th and Castro all converge), like The Archangel Uriel bearing The Holy Sword of The Grail pointed vertically skyward. It was dark, quiet and cold. No one out there but him, like a ghost town. And he called out blasphemy against me, to gather up those who in response would prove to be my true enemies. For they’d buzz to him like flies to a pile of shit. And thus, they are also enemies of LGBT Equality.

My Guardian Dragon has come to avenge me.

Fundraiser for a Fun-Raising Guy

June 6, 2014

[ Profligate Reader: I just emailed the following letter to four major gay newspapers in San Francisco (Bay Area Reporter, SF Bay Times, Castro Courier and Castro Biscuit.) As well as snail-mailed it to the managers of six bars in the Castro, which Larkin frequents. I will discuss the strategy of this compassionate maneuver after you read the letter. ]

June 5, 2014

Dear [Editor/Manager],

I want to bring to your attention an excellent (and fairly new) member of our community here in the Castro. His name is Larkin Kelsey, and we’ve been best friends since we first met at Hole in the Wall Saloon back in 2006. Three years ago I was delighted to discover he’s moved into the Castro–my neighborhood since 1983–thanks to the kindness of another longterm buddy. Larkin is an outstanding social mixer at our gay bars, reaching out to those who are disabled, elderly, or living with a difficult malady such as AIDS, cancer or Alzheimer’s. He is charismatically handsome, talented and gregarious, putting smiles on many faces of those for whom life is not so good. And he does it all out of sheer compassion and devotion to the LGBT spirit. But like me, he is low-income and losing his teeth because he can’t afford dental care. I want so badly to see that winning smile again, that it finally occurred to me:

Why not appeal to the many bar patrons who appreciate Larkin’s sweet outreach to needful souls that might otherwise be seated alone? Not every customer is too financially strapped to start a fundraiser whereby Larkin may have his teeth restored. Furthermore, since he can work a crowd like nobody’s business, it’s obvious to me he’d make an excellent social mixer for gay parties and other events. I think it would be incredibly noble for our community to return Larkin’s many years volunteering his own good will without any expectation beyond lightening hearts.

This darling fellow has shared so many kind words and hugs with me over the years. But his startling declaration two Mondays ago really knocked my jockstrap off. He ran up to me on Market Street near Noe, crouched down to look me directly in the eyes (he is after all, six-foot-four) and declared: “Our friendship, our being brought together, is an incredible godsend!” Now, I don’t mean to pitch my own talents here, but you are welcome to learn more about this fine man by reading a book I recently published about our adventures together, called “Free Me From This Bond.” Which novel is my thank-you gift to Larkin for being such a great amigo. Always free to read in web format at:


Most sincerely,

Zeke Krahlin
SF gay activist since 1983


First off I don’t want you to think I’m smarter than I really am. For the cunning impact of this letter did not strike me till a couple hours after I wrote and sent it off. For I simply thought this brainstorm a wonderful response to Larkin’s recent confession that our friendship is a godsend. And probably a great resolution to our ongoing conflict that started January 2013, instigated by His Own Dragonly Claw.

Should my letter get published (or it inspires one or more managers or patrons), what will they think if Larkin continues to spew animosity by calling me his stalker, thus maintaining my ban from every bar in the Castro? In fact, what will they think if I remain away from his side, while he garners all their generosity and support? I don’t think Larkin will be seen in a very good light, nor would it benefit him to keep me invisible. Thus, I’d inadvertently come up with the perfect solution to nip his scandalous behavior in the bud, and resurrect my reputation in everyone’s eyes. I have long concluded that public shaming is the most effective strategy for getting a person to change his ways. Or leave Dodge (which I certainly don’t want to happen; I’d be miserable unto death).

Larkin seems very well loved by many patrons. Which begs the question:

If bar patrons appreciate Larkin’s company so much, how come they’ve never bothered to get his rotting teeth fixed…and why don’t they see his outstanding potential to become a professional party mixer? Some customers who share merry badinage with The Good Man are quite affluent (they all have perfect teeth), so you’d think they’d wanna give him a leg up for all his kind regards and putting so much joy into their dreary little lives. Or do they want to keep him under their thumbs, for their own selfish amusement? Block him from having any real friends, then discard him like a used trick rag when his youthful beauty fades? Thus, the public shame also falls on the patrons. {And if my letter does get printed, and they don’t do as I suggest, things will never be the same in those bars again…to put it mildly.)

Will my letter even get published in any one of those newspapers? Will even one bar manager respond by organizing a fundraiser for Larkin’s benefit? Will Larkin even read my letter; will sidekick “Skinny Jake?” Ah, there’s the rub. Seems that every good effort I’ve made in my life–especially in regards to Larkin–backfires in the ugliest way! And I am left to drift alone into eternal isolation, despised by many. In a very tangible way, Larkin has cast me into a hell I don’t deserve. My life is indeed a comedy of terrors.

But since our friendship is a godsend, I realize that is not the truth, nor the final outcome. And the happy ending to this trilogy I call “Free Me From This Bond” is now within sight of these clairvoyant eyes. For we truly have no enemies, only teachers (as the Buddha once declared). Larkin is my teacher, My Guardian Dragon. And those who play the villain, likewise. He has not “framed” me, but set me up to become his hero this time around. He knew I could take the duress, the months and months of rejection, hostility, humiliation. He knows I’m strong in spirit and yearned for a Great Odyssey that would lead me back into his arms. But not without a warrior’s fight to claim The Holy Grail of My Heart’s Ultimate Desire.

And he knew I would find my way through This Minotaur Labyrinth of Love’s Corridor, soon enough. For he is the architect, and his faith in me is boundless.

In sum: the dragons have my back. And so does Larkin, Greatest Dragon Of Them All. So next time my path crosses the devil (walking a little doggie or whatever) I’ll say: “You’re one beautiful man, Larkin Kelsey. I’d rather die thinking of you, than live without you. Put that in your pot pipe and smoke it!”

[ The moral of my tale, Ichorous Reader? If you really-really-really care about someone, you will find a way to his heart. No matter the tribulations that seem endless with no promise of abatement. But the real gist of the challenge is this: do you honestly care enough to be in it over the long haul? If not, then you don’t deserve the happiness you seek, and may a thousand times a thousand fleas infest your armpits for a thousand times a thousand years. And beyond. Stay tuned as the joyous plot unfolds, with more twists than a Mel Brooks extravaganza. ]

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