Him, Me, and the lovers …

Published January 9, 2017 by angrytinkerbell

On New Year’s eve i went to this after-party. It was a mixed crowd predominantly gay. I had a great time there, talking to people, enjoying the music and dancing. Then a guy whose father was very close to mine entered and we met. He had a problem for a while dealing with his addiction to drugs, he wasn’t very much happy to see me there and made sure to ask me several times not to tell anyone that i saw him in the club. I assured him i won’t several times as well. Then suddenly he asked me: “you’re gay right?”, to which I answered “Yes I am”. And then the preaching of the inner homophobic erupts. “Be whoever you are I don’t mind it’s your life” “Thanks man” “But don’t brag about it, don’t tell anyone” “It’s fine habibi my parents know and they’re fine, i’m out proud and loud” “Noooooo of course your parents are sad but they don’t wanna show it to you” “Habibi believe me they’re fine” “Of course not, if my mother knows about you she’ll be very sad” “euh…” “Promise me to keep it a secret” “Ow here’s my ex boyfriend” “Promise me” “Enjoy your night man and take care of yourself”. Weird eh?! Like da f*ck is that? That was a 1st to me. I dunno even how to analyze it. My mind never thought really of the homophobic person that cares about you. Or about his sanity. Or about your parents. Or about how his mother would feel if she knows I’m gay. I thought everyone knew I’m gay already.

Lately this thought is haunting my mind. I would like to witness people’s love. The idea of being between 2 men who are in love excites me much. It warms my heart and stimulates my interest. It makes me think sometimes it’s one of my f*cked up thoughts. We all have fucked up thoughts. I think somehow i’m in a phase where i believe I’m not gonna find my soulmate anytime soon. I can’t. I won’t. And therefore i have an interest to be close to a couple, share with them some time, have a threesome, chill. The idea needs much of maturity and lots of love. Still there are few couples out there that make me smile whenever i think of their relationship. I mean of the idea they project of their relationship. Is it real? Is it perfect? How are they intimately? What problems do they face? Does that mean I want to be in a 3 way relation? Who said relations consist of 2? Why do we gay people conform to hetero-normative standards? Why don’t we explore more our different self? Are we cocksuckers doomed to find the love with one person and then marry him if we got the chance in our country or seek it in another country? All these questions and more are intriguing me and I would like to find answers for’em.

This blog is full of questions huh? I still have few of them. Why did I decide to write those 2 separate stories in one blog? What’s the relation between them? Why some people are still basic in their questions? Am I culturally elitist to think how such people from the 1st paragraph exist? How come their mind is that limited? Why do I carry the burden of thinking elaborately?

Why are you reading? What are you thinking? Are you judging? Are you relating?

F*ck it. Bye

question

 

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I had to tell you …

Published November 30, 2016 by angrytinkerbell

I was in my house checking my Grindr like I always do, when I received a message from this young guy for whom i made it clear priory that I have no interest in, asking me surprised: Joe? Is it true that you attend orgies and are HIV positive?

His question came expected as it’s common for some gay men not to accept rejection and  try desperately to talk bad about you spreading rumors and stuff. However at that time specifically it got me to freeze.

Few months ago I ended my relation. The closure was not on good terms and I was hurt. As a reaction I developed a promiscuous sexual lifestyle, during which many people came out to me as positive since they trust my figure. It was remarkable having this amount of people coming out to me before our sexual intercourse. It felt that HIV was everywhere around me. Everywhere around us. I went into this state of thinking of how unfair it is that these guys are positive and I am not. As a gay person you kind of live with the constant fear of catching it, and while everyone can, it is those people that are carrying its burden and we lucky bastards aren’t.

I was reading an article about a guy who led a promiscuous life and developed feelings for a couple who are positive. At a certain point he gets it, not from them, and he says he was relieved that now he doesn’t have to live with the constant fear of getting it and it feels quite much better that he’s on the same ground as the couple he loved. I related to his story. I was like fuck it why not having it and end with this feeling of guilt and fear.

Back to the Grindr young man, I was in no way gonna deny that I’m positive for such a person, even if not having it. Someone needs to be a jerk sometime with him especially if you come to think that it’s because of people like him that Stigma and Ignorance about HIV are still dominant in the Lebanese gay scene. My answer was, aren’t you the guy who hit on me last time and got rejected?! After that there was silence.

A month later i adjusted my balance and got over my reactions. I had to go test myself like I do every 3 months. I went and did the rapid test. It came positive. The girl testing me couldn’t look me in the eye as she knew me. I calmed her and said it’s ok, I’ve been there with many people and I know it’s not the end of the world. Then I had to do the confirmation test in the hospital. And I waited. I convinced myself that I’m positive. Now I had to do all the procedure of meeting a doctor, doing my viral load and CD4 count tests, in order to get the results and go to the ministry of health to get the year long acceptance for me to receive the free medicine from Karantina. I’m familiar with the procedure as I’ve been there with others in this procedure several times. Still, It was me who was positive now. The fact that I would have to face jerks on gay apps, get to know what some people talk about me, face discrimination and all felt terrifying. Four hours later I receive a call, the tests in the hospital came negative. Rapid tests are 100% negative if negative and 98.5% positive if positive. For a period of time i refused to believe back that I’m negative. Why would I be a lucky one, again! How many people were hoping to test negative in hospitals after they tested positive in clinics! I waited another month till my window period ended. I tested again. I was negative. I am negative.

My friends who were positive were following up with me. They were genuinely happy for me for being negative. Myself, I’m still carrying the guilt of a community that has a long way to stop its ignorance…

Take a stance, fight stigma

#positivepluspositiveaids

 

 

 

Judge Helen Iskandar, and her patriarchal Phoenician compatriots

Published September 16, 2016 by angrytinkerbell

It happened that I met this guy lately. He told me this story. A month ago, they were 4 men in an apartment. The neighbors called the police on them. They got abducted to the notorious Lebanese morality police (Hbeich). They spent 4 days in there. They paid 3000$ to close their files, fearing that it would cause them a social scandal. Then they were released.

This story comes to pile up with so many other ones, where homosexuality is persecuted, laws are not respected, rights are violated, and bribes are collected.

Welcome to the land of the Cedars, Lebanon!

Welcome to the holy country, where the descendants of Phoenicia still live. Where Arabia glowed. Where Roman laws were taught. Where it takes you 30 minutes to shift from skying in the mountains to swimming by the beach.

Your supposedly open minded compatriot comes and asks you: “When did you chose to become a homosexual?”

When did you chose to become so numb? i answer. “You’re very aggressive, chill bro”

7/6/2016, Judge Helen Iskandar ruled that 5 people, that were being investigated for the killing of their friend, are guilty under the article 534 that criminalizes all sexual acts defying nature, although several judges before her reached the conclusion that homosexuality cannot be considered against nature and therefore the article 534 is not applicable in their case. She ordered anal tests on a dead body to prove homosexual acts, although these tests were prohibited in 2012 by the minister of justice back then and the doctor’s syndicate for being inhuman and inaccurate. She didn’t comply with international treaties that come in a higher place to the internal law, the internal law should be changed to be coherent with the treaties that Lebanon has ratified.

This same Judge, Helem Iskandar  ruled in “the heinous crime that shocked Lebanon when Manal Assi was ruthlessly bludgeoned with a pressure cooker in front of her two young daughters by her husband, according to information released by the ISF at the time. He was supposed to be sentenced in accordance with article 549 of the Penal Code which carries the death penalty. However, judge Helen Iskandar indirectly based her verdict on section 562 of article 252 of the Penal Code, which relates to ‘Honor Killings”, and sentenced him for 18 months only (2 judicial years, each 9 months)

Both rulings are being appealed currently to try to break them for their illegality, not to say irrationality.

Now this is the country you’re so happy with, so proud of, so nationalistic about to the extend of racism (let me not open that door). Yeah, that country?!

Shove it up your a**es, and while doing so, let the phoenix bird come take you and fly you to its peaks, and maybe throw you above a Cedar tree so you can shove that as well.

Oh and Elie Marouni and Najwa Karam too …

Bye

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

خضوع هش

Published March 30, 2016 by angrytinkerbell

أرى نفسي أرضاً على ظهري، عارٍ إلى سجادةٍ نتنة وخشنة توخز جلدي، تهيجني

أراك آتٍ باتجاهي، حافٍ، لابساً بنطالاً فضفاض

وصلتني. أحسستُ بدفىء قدميك قرب رأسي، نظرت إليهما، يميناً وشمالاً، وخطفتُ تطليعةً صوب عضوك، ينتصب شيئاً فشيء، يكبر مختبئا

مصصني، قلت لك. رفعتَ قدمك ودُستَ وجهي، كدوسك لحشرةٍ اعتادت الزحف

ارتعشتُ وحيداً تحتك، فاتحاً رجلَيْ. شممتُ قدمك متلمساً. “إلحسها” أمرتني. “حاضر”، استقر طرف لساني  بين أصابعك، استذوق روائح جسمك المحرمة على الآخرين

 أراك تداعب تحجّر قضيبك، تنظر إليّ مشمئزاً من رعشة إثارتي

وضعتَ قدمك أرضاً ورفعت الأخرى. “أمرُك” قلتُها بينما كنتَ تراقب خضوعي

أخرجتَ زبرك في الهواء، نزلتَ به في ثغري، ابتلعتُه كله لأثبت لك إخلاصي للذتك

ضاجعتَ وجهي كالحيوان، تناسيتَ حاجتي للتنفس، شهقتُ كلما خرجتَ، قبل أن تعود وتدخل

سحبتَه مراراً وضربتني به على جبيني، ثم على فمي، بينما مددتُ لساني أملاً بلحسه سريعاً

تكرم يا كبير، قلتُ لك بينما حففتُ بخشي إلى السجادة أستثير

رفعتَ رجليّ كل واحدةٍ في ميل، صفعتَ شرجي بينما أيرك يملأ فمي

بخدمتك قلتُ، بينما حففتَ مخرجي الملتهب

وقفتَ، فتربّعتُ أمامك كالكلب أنتظر منك أمر، طلب، خدمة، أي شيءٍ أفعله لكي لا تترك روحي معلّقةً في العدم

رفعتَ رأسي صوبك وبصقتَ في عمقه قائلاً: يا لك من حقير

أفكار مكتوبة لمجهول

إعادة كتابة آنغري تينكربيل

Shsh…for a moment

Published October 1, 2015 by angrytinkerbell

 

I was laying there naked, on a couch facing the window wide open, a bit earlier than the dawn, at the last moments of dark.

What makes the dark special is that everyone is sleeping throughout most of it. You being awake is special by itself.

Few cars run the roads. Few birds start their day. Loneliness at that moment is precious.

Mario comes and lays down next to me. Naked also, his body stuck to mine. Says nothing.

Shhhhhhhhhh…..

A moment. That moment. When you remember the darkness of Nina Simone’s darkest songs. Dark? Yes dark. And the most tender of all moments….

I could see the shadows of Mario’s curves. I could feel his skin rubbing to mine.

Dark? Yes, cause why not?!

When it’s that soft and gentle.

I could sense his warmth, listen slightly to the mix of our heartbeats.

The romance of that moment. Romance is a cheesy word compared to the sophistication of that moment’s simplicity.

Calm. Yes the calmest of moments, where you can still hear those cars from far away along to birds spreading their first melodies.

Shsh!

Do not say a thing, do not move…

Let us become part of that flow.

Darkness, calm, lights dimming in the mountains far away. Loneliness, how soft it is, when you are next to me.

Crying! How joyful is that crying… when I cry with you.

Mario. Your warmth. The silence. The dark. Your shadow.

My thoughts! When we’re in our nest, me and you, naked, away from people’s eyes, away from their thoughts, holding each others, because we can, we are entitled to, in a society that discriminates, that judges.

Your shoulder under my armpit, your head on my shoulder. I am to protect you, I am to love you. I am to defend you from wild animals, you have my oath.

So Shhhh….my love. People like us need no talking.

ShSh! you and you, and you there. My love is laying next to me, naked as he was created, as we were both created, as things are created. That is nature. Basic nature.

I am alone with him, as he is alone with me. While you are all sleeping.

And few cars are running the far away streets, and some birds are starting their singing.

While me and Mario are having a moment…

It is not everyday that a stranger makes you write

Published May 23, 2015 by angrytinkerbell

Tonight, i came back home late just like every night.

Just like every night, i opened grindr to check my messages and spend some time talking to strangers on the hope of getting sleepy and let the bed embrace me, exhausted, surrendering my being and trusting a pillow to take my neck.

Tonight, a guy messaged me with a face picture, one that i spent 30 seconds contemplating, contemplating his eyes, those eyes that scream cuteness in your face, before i answer with my pictures, face and body ones, as i wanted him to see me uncensored.

He’s the type of cuties that make you feel insecure, unsure if he’ll answer back after seeing your photos, after realizing that you’re not the God of beauty, nor the God of hotness, nor a God.

You’re a regular charming person with a bunch of imperfections, you want to be appreciated for the man you are, maybe for those same imperfections.

He introduces himself, he shares your name. He shares your nationality too. A nationality developed abroad. You knew that. You couldn’t have missed on such a face in Beirut city. You joke about it. He affirms his nationality through dirty talk. He likes that. You knew that. You like that. He likes that you like that. He likes that you knew that he likes that.

Grindr starts with sex, and in sex we started.

We’re compatible sexually.

I analyzed his character through the sex talks. I could tell he’s free, doesn’t like to be bounded, he’s a rebel, he’s passionate, he’s cuddly, he’s playful, he’s authentic, he’s genuine, he’s curious, he’s loveable, he’s loveable…

Within all that sex, he sends other pictures of his. I found myself saying  “ur eyes …”. He takes a break, and says “you scored…”

Then the sex continues…

I tried convincing him to come, yet he couldn’t.

Then the sex continues…

He sends me a picture of his ass, a manly ass that I’d want him to trim. He asks me to trim it for him.

“Not before you become my boyfriend if it’s meant to be”, I say.

I do believe that words are the material expression of our thoughts and feelings.

He made me want to fall in love, he made a boyfriend material out of me.

I fell for the illusion of the illusion, he became the reality of my reality.

I got transported to where I became a confused soul, to where he became a beautiful idea.

Unless I touch him, nothing is real, nothing is real…

handsome

My heart has been consumed by guilt

Published March 11, 2015 by angrytinkerbell

It’s been a while I didn’t write, a long while, long enough that it took me some time to figure out the new template WordPress introduced. The past 9 months have been strange for me, on many levels. Writing from the heart is difficult. My heart hasn’t been the same for many reasons. I’m not gonna go into details with you, i always thought I shouldn’t add on people’s concerns. However i wanna write about one specific thing. My heart has been consumed by guilt.

It’s not that i killed anyone, robbed anyone, cheated on anyone. Nothing of the obvious reasons.

2 days ago, I had a conversation with a straight friend of mine:

-How’s your love life lately? I asked.

-No love life for me, i have few fuck buddies, i go out with many girls, nothing serious, I don’t think i can be serious about anyone nowadays.

-Aren’t you afraid?

-Afraid of what?

-Of having people developing emotions for you? This idea frightens me.

-This is not my problem, it’s theirs. You can’t go on thinking about everyone. From my side I’m quite clear. If they fall for me they are to be blamed.

I always wondered where do people buy this kind of certitude about things, about everything. When people judge someone that he’s an asshole, how can they be sure he really is?! When people declare they’re into muscles, how can they be sure they’re not gonna love fucking some full bodied man?! When people tell you it’s not their fault if someone fell for them, how can they be positive that they are not to be blamed, even if they were clear about things?!

My heart has been consumed by guilt lately. I went into three affectionate short termed experiences in the past 2 years and a half, where i felt something towards 3 lovely men. My heart pumped with affection towards them, yet my mind, my fucked up mind, always ended my emotional state with radical NO s. Yeah I’m that type of humans. My heart always needs the consensus of my brain. I have a stubborn brain that refuses to comply. One that dictates not to ever go into a destructive relationship. I even try to legitimize it with the duty of preserving the best interest of both. The result? I made 3 men cry. Unintentionally, unexpectedly, I made 3 strong men cry. It blew my heart,  I, made them cry. Because of that rigid brain of mine, that heartless brain of mine, it was I, who made them cry. I convinced myself of the righteousness of my act, shielded my heart with a protection, although till now they cross my mind and I feel for them, and left them to an unprotected heart of theirs. It is I, who broke their heart.

Where can you buy that certitude when you need it, the certitude that they should have been rational enough to protect their heart like I did. The certitude that things had to end and they weren’t meant to be. The certitude that if it was to continue, it would have led to a mutual destruction of the other. The kind of certitude that you, letting go of them is the right thing to do, the legitimate action for the interest of both?

My heart will be consumed by guilt, for a while i guess. I am afraid, I am terrified of giving someone a chance and letting go, of going with the flow. I’m asking myself so many questions, I dunno if I’m gonna fall in love again, or allow myself to do so.

I dunno if I’m gonna take the risk again. I feel divided between my interest, and the best interest. By the politically correct, and the temptation of the politically incorrect.

I’m afraid that I’d hurt someone. I don’t wanna be the reason behind any man’s crying, the cause for anyone’s innocence dying.

For that, i cannot love. Not for a while at least, i guess…

 

flowers