If i lived 1995 years ago, somewhere between what’s known now to be the river of Jordan and the Mediterranean sea, between Tyre and Sinai, I would have been an 18 year old young gay man wandering the souks of Jerusalem holding a gardenia, checking out the drunk Roman soldiers, as I’m sure I’d have the fetish for foreigners, getting inspired by their beauty to write my poems, maybe invite some of them over to pose for me while drawing them naked.
Me and Mary Magdalene would definitely be besties, fabulously competing on who to get the hottest man. My sense of fashion would be minimalistic, the less of clothes the better, my robe would be the shortest possible, the tightest possible, of course with the best fabric available, I’d be a regular traveler to Rome, checking out the latest designs and importing silk, lots of it.
I would look good all the time, smell like Jasmine all the time, make fun of straight people competing for a woman all the time.
I’d probably be by Mary Magdalene’s side when she did her dramatic break down on the feet of Jesus Christ, being a shoulder for her in the aftermath, fixing her make up after all the crying. I would have most probably looked in the eyes of the man who broke her heart, he would have left a mark looking at me.
My curiosity would have probably led me to follow him accompanying my girl, I’d have had a one sided crush towards him. The intriguing sense would have made me close to him. I’d probably fall for his progressive ideas, his distinguished insight, his love to humanity, his non violence, his inner peace and calm personality.
I’d be attracted to his disciples, yet my pursue for the alpha male would always direct me to him. I’d do my tricks, he would probably confuse me with his signals. I’d fall in love with him, he’d love me differently. He’d look at me and smile, that peaceful kind smile, as if he had an insight on my past and present, and maybe future. He’d reject me tenderly, putting his hand on my cheek, with no judgement whatsoever.
I’d be close to his mother, and John the beloved. Distant from all the rest. When they go fishing I’d be tanning by the beach, checking out their bodies, some half naked butch barbaric men would always be a pleasure for the eye, especially when they have those fights for fun.
I’d be sketching a lot Jesus, him preaching, smiling, doing miracles….
I’d probably move with him all the times, I’d definitely be by his side when he visits Tyre, Tyranians are hot, and you wonder why Mary Magdalene and I retired there and spent the last days of our lives?! Yeah well, i was her gay friend, I couldn’t have left her all alone?!?!
I would have believed in Jesus, cause he represented a dream of a better world, he loved me with no judgements, and he was a better man than anyone i knew. I would have cried plenty for his sufferings. I would definitely have bitch-slapped Judas. I would have been by the women when he was crucified, definitely jealous of John for being chosen to take care of Mary, yet i would have accepted his decision and had my drops of tears when everyone has left and i stayed alone under his feet wondering till when humanity will be brutal, judgmental, carrying nonacceptance to all good things and people when they differ from us and our perception to normality.
I would definitely have wrote a Gospel, a fabulous pink one that included all my sketches, and my one sided relation to Jesus, written in the most poetic way, yet my Gospel would have definitely been banned by the church, also all the books that were wrote about it later on. I wouldn’t have been mentioned in any of the other Gospels even.
With all my certainty, i would have definitely disliked Paul.
I would have died in peace knowing that, i was loved tremendously….