Being Gay in New York and Other Observations

I often wonder why being gay in NYC often feels like being in some kind of weird rigid religious cult? Sometimes I also wonder why when being in a large group of gay men I feel as if the queeniness that takes over us is almost violent in it's nature?

Some parts of me I consider to be very liberal, others I feel are very much like a kind of redneck from the trailer parks of Illinois. When I try to act like other liberals, I feel like a fake.

I don't really care about marriage myself but anybody who believes in an amendment to the constitution stating that only a man and woman can be legally married is truly also saying that I do not have the same rights--nor am I equal to them because I suck cock. This is contrary to ideas espoused by three of the most enlightened Americans in history--all of whom--have reiterated the idea that "All men are created equal", Jefferson, Lincoln and Martin Luther King, Jr. I find it ironic that Republicans tend to call themselves more patriotic than democrats, yet most seem to be blind to this idea which is one of the key concepts that the American government was founded upon.

I really hate it when I see or hear other gay queens using the phrase "Don't be a hater." Boy, listening to that over and over again would certainly be enough to make me hate everything.

If I had a lot of money; I would buy a lifetime of health insurance, make sure I had a million in a retirement fund; then I would probably volunteer teach or volunteer a few days a week in a hospital, preferably somewhere like Calvary in the Bronx where people check in but they don't check out.

Working with dying people is the best way to reclaim one's humbleness and to feel the small sparkle and warmth of humanity. Riding to the Bronx even one day a week on the number 6 train is enough to make one loose one's humanity and think terribly racist thoughts about most people one sees on the train ride up there.

It's very challenging to try and think like a Buddhist (understanding, compassion for oneself and others, etc.) when you see a fat Latin woman litter on a subway car.

If I had a lot of money, every other weekend I would leave the city and go up to Cape Cod and stay near the ocean in order to cleanse myself of New York neurosis-- which tends to pile up if I stay here for long periods of time without leaving.

I'm really glad I'm an "ethical slut"; and quite sad that it seems at times there's no justice in the world.

I wish I could discover the cure for becoming bitter and turning into a curmudgeon; I would heavily medicate myself every day and freely offer it to my curmudgeonly neighbors. I doubt however if they would except my gift as too many of them love to be miserable.

I don't really regret being a songwriter who hasn't made thousands on his talent, but I do question WHY God or Higher Power gave me so much talent in that area and yet life gave me no big breaks. Weird. There seem to be so many secretaries and masseurs who don't hear music, produce, write lyrics, etc., I wonder why I was chosen to be one of those and yet hear so much both original and cover music playing in my head? Now finally I can stop feeling angry; indeed, I still ponder the question but it's definitely not worth stressing about...

I'm absolutely mystified as to why I can be in a near state of blissful meditation for a short period of time--and within the hour be screaming my head off at a neighbor about her barking dog (nicknamed "Osama bin Laden")?

I often wish I had a spiritual mentor, but most Buddhists I meet would be severely disapproving of my favorite form of entertainment--besides playing myself--which is watching "SOUTH PARK".

It is truly ironic that I live in a coop which actually has no coop board (yet claims that it does).

We tell ourselves lies; sometimes this is hurtful but other times living in denial is the most painfree method we can devise to live...

Most elitists are also extremely tight-assed, and the mask of an intellectual often hides a person severely out of touch with their body.