{{ I recall one gay man that I met when travelling abroad, who remarked that he was always glad to get home, because there was no other country that was as good (meaning lawful, decent, civilized, free). }}

I get that so much, myself! And I often denounce them whenever they speak such tripe...much to their unhappiness. Of course, I'm not on a jet when I say this. I'd be placed on the no-fly list pronto!

I'd start out by saying something like "You gotta be kiddin'" or "Do you really believe that tripe?" And if they don't start screamin' at me (at that initial point) and/or walk away brusquely, I REALLY lay into 'em:

"Amerika is a nation of thugs, ruled by thugs. Don't confuse your fortunate affluence with gov't compassion. Or are you rubbing your wealth in my face while hiding behind the skirt of patriotism, the last refuge of a scoundrel?"

I wouldn't shut up. And this is ONE clear reason that friendships are difficult for me to come by. There USED to be more liberals like myself, who appreciated my viewpoints...but no longer! (Maybe when the Dems regain the White House? Ha!)

{{ Is he blind and deaf, that he doesn't seem to remember things like a genocide advocate (Paul Cameron) who associated with Congressman and filed a "friend of the court" brief with the U.S. Supreme Court, and has been quoted by numerous Christian Right groups? }}

It's not for lack of knowledge, that reptilians exercise their fork-ed tongues to spread lies and tragedy.

{{ Would he really feel that way, if he realized that AIDS genocide isn't just a "conspiracy theory", but a truth that has been kept from the public? }}

MY take is, he already KNOWS these things, or similar ones. His raison d'etre is getting his rocks off from other people's misery. Including his own gay brothers...who he does NOT see as his people. Using his affluence as a buffer from anti-gay persecution, he wields an invisible sword that slays homosexuals as efficaciously as a declared enemy. They make EXCELLENT cannon fodder, if not outright disciples, of the Zodiac cult.

Most likely he's conservative, a Republican whose loyalty is towards the almighty dollar, and NOT civil rights, including that of gays. (Terrible to realize, but too many of this kind are also registered Democrats.) On a lower level of social strata, you also have low-income queers who are equally vicious against their own brothers. I know, because I've been victimized many times over by these sort. In fact, I'm dealing with a whole roach nest of 'em now, as you well know through my "Steal This Blog" episodes.

They don't care one whit for their brothers. "That's life" they'll say with a shrug. And they also participate in most AGGRESSIVE ways, against the demise of their brothers...if they are not benefiting from their victim by ways financial or freebie (drugs, housing, etc.). In my case, they've ruined a fine friendship, threatened and beat me, gossiped wickedly in order to drive me away and do me harm. I also am coerced to deal with these kind outside of bars: my own neighborhood and apartment building no exception!

Larkin was also targeted. No wonder he doesn't speak or associate with me at this time: these are dangerous folks! Yet he doesn't chase me away though I show up at his place of work (tacqueria) at least once a week, which is RIGHT NEXT DOOR to Hole in the Wall, a definite zone of danger. (Yet most remarkable is no one of my enemies from that saloon ever enters the tacqueria...at least, not while I'm present. It's as if God has carved out a sacred space just for us two lovebirds...in the eye of the hurricane, so to speak.)

He also leaves me be when I (rarely) show up at a bar that he frequents. Such as yesterday, at Twin Peaks Tavern on the corner of Market & Castro. Saw him sitting there, so decided to enter the bar myself, and enjoy being under the same roof. Is this another sacred space, close to home? Did Larkin intentionally inspire me to show up there, when previous times I never intruded...to offer me this second zone of safety? After all, none of my enemies seem to go there...or even walk by, where they could easily spot me through those plate glass window walls! I sure wish Larkin would give me a clue--either a yea or nay. But that's not how he wants to play the game. I think because he's fine tuning my telepathic skills, so what clues he DOES present are scant and come off "iffy". It's best for me to figure out everything as much as possible withOUT outside help. There is a parallel here, to the analogy with boot camp...only my training is for SPIRITUAL war, where psychic abilities are the real weapons. AND he seems to be embedded right in the HEART of This Cult.

Eerie, to pretend we're strangers to each other while hanging out at the same place! I already saw him earlier that day, at the tacqueria. Wore a new shirt w/Lady of Guadalupe theme (see attachment). As my prayer for compassion in our friendship, my appeal to Goddess in whatever form. I think "Quan Yin" (Bodhisattva of compassion") as much as I think "Guadalupe".

Larkin seems to do little (seemingly irrelevant) things to let me know he appreciates my presence, and devotion. For one (of course), he has never asked or told me to not show up. Also, he'll sometimes say something to me, that he usually doesn't, though says to all other customers. As well as set me up to fulfill a humble request. (This is difficult to describe, w/o coming off as some hopelessly captivated loon! So I'll just continue and not worry about that aspect.)

Like yesterday, I was hoping he'd say "Thanks, have a nice day" as I departed. So I could say this: "You too, squirt!" But since he's only done that once before, in all the times I've eaten there, what were the odds? But sure enough, when I finally started to exit, as I gripped the door handle, he spoke those very words...and I, likewise. Just one more example of his probable telepathy.

Walking home, I passed by several construction workers setting up a scaffold. One, who also happened to be quite attractive, turned to me and complimented my shirt: "Boy, wear a shirt like that, and ALL blessings will be yours!". So I responded, "Thanks! I'm actually wearing it as a prayer for a friend. Thanks for noticing, you really made my day." I turned away to continue my stroll, though I really wanted to get laid, he was that bodaceously handsome what with those muscles, six pack rippling under a T-shirt, and very butch tatoos...but what's a girl to do under those awkward circumstances? What would he have done, if I handed him my calling card? Spit on me? Beat me up? I hate homophobia, how it forces gays to keep a big part of their life secret, even when out of the closet.

Later on up the road, I bump into acquaintance Eric, a Korean-Amerikan cab driver. He already knows something about my Larkin adventures, so I told him I just came from the tacqueria, my weekly devotional. We were standing a few doors up from the Metro, where Larkin hangs out regularly. I know that usually, once he's off work on Wednesday, he then goes to the Metro. Eric points beyond me: "Isn't that Larkin coming in this direction now?"

I turn to look back, squint to make out who it is, but he's still too far away (my eyesight is not 20/20). I turn towards Eric to say, "Naw," but decided to look back again, and smile. "Yes, that's Larkin," I say, "I'd know him a mile away." So Eric offers to depart, when I stop him.

"No, don't go. He's not gonna talk to me, he'll just keep walking."

"Look, he's crossing the street." Sure enough, Larkin cuts a diagonal across Market, and steps into Walgreens. "Eric, he avoids me in public, that's why he's crossing."

But then, no sooner does Larkin step into Walgreens, than he steps back out, and continues his walk on the other side. I depart from Eric, in order to trace Larkin's path...which I surmised would lead to Twin Peaks. I was correct, it did. So I rush on home (almost across the street from that bar, BTW), drop off my groceries, and go to Twin Peaks myself.

That visit lasted about one hour, before Larkin exited. Of course, I felt a strong urge to rush out and be with him...which is only natural, considering my affections under great duress. But I DO draw the line somewhere, so as not to come off as a stalker...thus, I remained seated, suffering one of my countless heartbreaks as he grows smaller and smaller to the point of disappearance. (I die a thousand deaths each day, for this guy! The first person I EVER met to cause me to NOT think about my Randolph each and every day.)

A nice ending to my stay, was the invite of an older man (67) to join him at a table. Really had a nice smile, and STILL a looker. So I accepted the overture, and sat by him. Then a man who turned out to be his LOVER, returned with a couple drinks (mine was already at hand).

So I offered to leave now, if they'd like, but they both said no, please stay. We had a lovely conversation for approx'ly a half hour. I even stated with humorous irreverence, what good lookers they BOTH are, and I'd go home with either in a pinch. I went so far as to claim that I'm a safe bet, as I'd never screw up their relationship. More of this jolly conversation ensued, to everyone's delight.

Why bring up my little adventure in this seemingly unrelated topic? Two reaons, I guess: (1) it was just dying to ooze out of my fingers via the keyboard, no matter what. And (2) I am at war with some very evil people who are the kind you describe in your latest missive...so I want to give you an example of how I do battle, and how goodness peeks in now and then, to keep my hopes up, and inspire me to forge on.

I ALSO believe (and have concluded) that Larkin is a truly wonderful man, caught in the middle of this diabolical spider web. But "caught" may not be the best word in this case...he may have intentionally embedded himself among the enemy, in order to SABOTAGE their plans...if they can't be won over.

Warren, were you poor and w/o a lover, friends or family (as I am), you'd most likely become prey for these bottom dwellers. It can often be quite depressing, scary and extremely dark. I think of Larkin, wonder if he's going to finally vanish forever from my life, or if we really will resume our friendship. It kills me to see him smile and hug others, his friends (though some are surely NOT), while I am totally ignored, as if I were some ghost he couldn't see or hear.

But at the same time, the experience is most blessed, even sacred. Making ME into a hero, along with any others who show compassion towards my plight. I am torn up inside, desperate for those golden breakthroughs I trust will occur. Certainly, much SOONER than later; I feel so defeated, humiliated, scorned.

Larkin SEEMS unaffected by my presence in his life...cool as a cucumber. But one thing I DO know about the man: he can be VERY private, and hides his feelings well, when he wants. I find it hard to believe I haven't impressed him. In fact, once when I showed up at the tacqueria around four Wednesdays back, he didn't realize I had arrived until he looked up from the cash register and saw me standing there, musing over the menu right above his towering frame...as IF I wasn't sure what to order, even though I ALWAYS get the chile rellenos. Startled, Larkin smiled brightly, but w/o giving away for WHOM...thus, looked in some other direction as I waited to pay up.

What happens with us (me and Larkin) will play a MAJOR role in what happens to our Queer Family Worldwide. Our miniscule microcosm has the seed of the butterfly effect buried within its tender bosom! ("Seed," "butterfly," "bosom": TRIPLE mixed metaphor. Is there a prize for this?) And it is for this reason (though not ONLY for this reason) I am confident of success in our relationship, and in putting the kibosh on this evil cult that has damaged so many decent lives before me.

It is of course yet one MORE fear, that they shall disappear my beloved. How do I continue to deal with all this misery, w/o any true support or decent home as sanctuary? I hate all this grief, when it comes (and it does quite regularly), yet I somehow manage to find the lesson contained therein, and the positive crumb tossed my way. One of the big lessons out of this, is such an INTENSE appreciation of friendship, loyalty, devotion, perserverance, patience and fortitude.

An amazing event occurred a few days ago (among the numerous ones these last two weeks): a new street buddy, Zack has turned out to be a really sweet guy, more than I gathered till now. He made it very clear that day, that he'd be a good friend to me. EXACTLY what I long for: some friendship that will of its own accord, lighten my burdens, and make my remaining difficulties over Larkin et al, easy to address. I don't even need to talk out my adventures...just having a real FRIEND (other than those in cyberspace, you among them) will be most comforting.

Another lesson (also a gift): Larkin's forced silence between us makes me want to EXPLODE with desire to tell him all the hells I've been through for his sake and for mine...for OURS. (My Bodhisattva nature!) But what could I do? Well, I'm a writer, so I WROTE...in hopes some day, that I could leave the printouts somewhere, that Larkin will view them. For a while, he lost his job at the tacqueria (last year), but it also hadn't occurred to me then, that I'd even be WELCOME there, let alone be able to hand him my true tales.

But I learned he regained his job, so called up the gumption to finally go in there, order something, and sit down. To my delight, Larkin didn't say boo, and the rellenos are absolutely delicious!

Thus began my practice of leaving a folder of writing beneath the newspaper where I dined. But who knows? Maybe he just tosses my gifts into the trash!

(I never bother to look back through the window, to actually see how he handles this. It might oblige him to call after me, and say I forgot something. Or, knowing that I've looked back, he just might dump my gift in the garbage, just to press my buttons...then reclaim it once I depart. He's just the clever type to do that!) It is a game of faith, a game of trust, a game with two souls in the gamble. (And many, many OTHER souls by association, considering the import of my role as gay activist and author. Then again, maybe I think way too much of myself.)

One of my great hopes of course, is to profit immensely by my writing, that Larkin may also benefit. But the two books themselves--due to their libelous content--could never be published in the typical manner. Their destiny is to become an underground sensation, "Steal This Blog". Monies will come indirectly: from payments for me to give readings, interviews, etc.

There is another way fame and fortune can come: tourism. Fans of Steal This Blog will visit all the haunts, and observe (maybe even interact with) all the characters in my books! They'll come to the tacqueria to watch Larkin and myself, in our latest chapter.

Even should I perish now, my books will be there to celebrate Larkin, and win the world's adoration. No doubt he'll be paid very well, to tell my story from HIS perspective. He'd also be offered gigs as party mixer for gay events...since that is what I wish for him, as stated numerous times in Steal This Blog.

How funny, should this come to manifest reality! I'd be sitting there, enjoying my rellenos and Larkin's presence, when a few gay tourists drop in, to observe. Should I talk with them? Should they even talk with me? What new elements will they add to the mix that until then, was mostly composed of just Larkin and myself?

Will they all be kind to me/him? If not, will the kind ones be there to oppose them? Will some even help facilitate our friendship? Will they confront (and even EXPEL) those ugly souls who stand in the way of a remarkable friendship (such as--I ABHOR saying his name *sigh* -- Gypsy)? Or cause/inspire (at least some of) them to right all their wrongs? Is this going to trigger gay revolution, civil war? First the GANGS (pro and anti -Zeke).

What IS amazing about my Larkin adventures, is that--while my attempts to resume our friendship is composed of many little baby steps filled with frustration, grief and fear--opportunities DO open up that facilitate my goals. Such as Larkin getting back his tacqueria employment (for which I prayed mightily), his kind acceptance of my writings there, and his sudden reappearance last year (when he'd gone missing from my life for six or so weeks, grieving over him possibly being homeless) right across the street from my hallway, at the old Metro!

I could give MANY more examples, MORE than enough to at least indicate SOMETHING out of the ordinary is going on here, and I should be encouraged by that! Including the inspiration to write two--not one, but TWO--books which Larkin has directly inspired...simply by being himself, and appearing in my life like the loveliest bird of paradise one could ever imagine. Only this bird's GAY!

So Larkin, by his very refusal to talk with me (going on now for almost two years), has given me the gift of writing two fantastic books. These are just SOME of the reasons I believe he's my guardian angel, or someone of similar import...such as a protector/messenger from this secret society I believe is grooming me surreptitiously for leadership.

There is also the possibility--as I've described in my chapter "There's a Succubus Born Every Minute"--of having lost my memory of being a detective and partner, with Larkin. He does seem to know how to press every single button of mine. As if he intends to press every button POSSIBLE until all my negative emotions (fear, grief, inferiority, etc.) are completely flushed away. And that's a good thing, is it not? For this also shows him my true nature, witnessing me under different forms of duress and how I deal with them. It is OBVIOUS now, that he need not ever question my friendship, my loyalty. (If he's ever questioned that at all.)

Had he not put me through difficult tasks, my mettle would not be tested in ways to assure him I'd be a best friend. But maybe he's doing this to show ME my mettle, and how I've underestimated my own abilities. I'm certainly growing spiritually in leaps and bounds, that's certain! But I wonder:

Just who IS this Larkin, a most wonderful and inspiring and LOVELY man! (Whose gray hairs are now showing up in a most visually attractive way...like they did in my Randolph. While appearing quite different from each other, they BOTH have the same, dark and wavy chestnut hair sparkling with little silver strands.) The ONLY thing that truly makes sense IS that he's an angel, or some other equally-gracious guardian and friend. I'm sure it hurts HIM in ways I do not know, over my ordeals which he seems to instigate. And who knows what OTHER sorts of long-suffering this good man endures? Being terribly handsome does NOT ease the human experience, except superficially.

I just really miss observing his antics around the pool table...he's such a lark (my Larkin)! Of course, he's much more subdued at the tacqueria, and the bars I now see him at. Different crowd, different pressures. Many people are too stuffed in the shirt to appreciate his rambunctious and delightful pranks. I'll give you one (albeit outstanding) example...though I fear I won't be able to describe it as humorously as it actually occurred:

He had his favorite seat at Hole in the Wall, Larkin's own center stage for over seven years until he got the boot (though he may be back there now). A barstool right at the front end of the saloon was HIS spot, and no one else's. Well, I come walking in there one day, to see sitting in Larkin's "spot", a man with NO legs and short, stubby arms extended by flashy steel prosthetics. Barely three feet in height, like a garden gnome perched shakily on a leather cushion.

Larkin steps out of the urinals and marches briskly up to that gentleman, demands: "Hey! That's MY chair buddy!" Then (with feigned anger) promptly lifts him up in both arms and sets him back down on the ADJACENT seat.

I can't really capture that excellent moment; suffice it to say all the right expressions and body moves were there...the whole scenario like a setup just for me. And I still laugh hartily whenever I recall that episode. Just ONE among many reasons Larkin is so endeared by yours truly. He possess such a robust and passionate love for life, and sense of humor! (He's like a new, improved, better looking Jim Carey!) I would never stop grieving, should he vanish from my life. The difficulties as they now stand WITH him present are grievous enough.

It saddens me to see Larkin out of his element...that he no longer seems to have a place where he can be his rowdy self. But maybe he DOES, and I am simply removed from those venues. Certainly, his behavior is much more subdued at the Metro and the tacqueria. Well, it's sad for ME, to be treated by one I adore so immensely, like a pariah. It's a heartache, nothing but a heartache. No, not really. Hearthache IS a big part of it, but great joy, compassion, and wisdom ALSO conjoin. Thus, the promise of eternal friendship remains a manifest signpost on this tortuous path. Which path I hope will end VERY soon.

I always wonder when he'll speak with me once more. When we'll pick up our friendship. Yet, it's not like he no longer speaks TO me at all. He does, at the tacqueria, once in a while...whereas he did not at first. Yet, all he says are common phrases given his customers...as if maybe I'm just imagining things, putting more meaning into this, than is there. But that seems to be one more way he presses my buttons...to keep me guessing. But even THOSE words are a balm to my soul!

I certainly have a newfound appreciation of speech, how not to use it frivolously. And I AM a talkative lot. Though so is he, at times! "You talk too much for me, girlfriend," was a remark he made to me, before the "breakup". (So I retorted, "And YOU don't talk enough for me!" to which he gently agreed, with a nod of his fine-tousled head.) Yet, he just went on jabbering to the bartender, no less talkative than myself! And so many others who talk a lot are there...even a few who talk MORE than I do. So I take it as a lesson...it's nonetheless GOOD for me to talk less. When Larkin and I are back together, I'll be SURE to use my words sparingly, as I know it means a lot to him...that whatever words we exchange will be rich with meaning and love. Nothing trivial or pointless should pass between us. And (as I mentioned some paragraphs back), the silence he reigns over me has forced all my important words to manifest in those two incredible books, the first one entitled (may I remind you): "The Larkin Chronicles". So I'd say I have a LOT more reason to appreciate, than rebel against, this Kelsey-imposed sentence. I'm truly a prisoner of love! And living with the feeling I'm such a pathetic sucker and loser in his presence, is something to be ignored, rather than amplified.

For humility is indeed, one of love's mandated labors.

{{ People like him have a certain mindset- they pat themselves on the back, thinking they are wise, for rejecting anything that smacks of "conspiracy" without even really listening to it. I have heard people say it, just that way "I don't believe in conspiracies". }}

It's a setup to make you look the fool. I doubt they really think that way. They might ACT naive and clueless, in order to frustrate you. They ARE the conspiracy!

{{ All conspiracy, any conspiracies, without even *bothering* to look into it. Our media has programmed people to react that way by constant ridicule and propaganda. }}

Repeat something often enough, and people will come to believe it. A simple, but most effective strategy of social engineering. But you NEED a subliterate populace, to pull this often. And that's just what we've got, since public education has been gutted out.

{{ That cultural myth about "conspiracy" is much like the cultural myth about religion being uplifting and wise and good. It is a nutured mythology, to promote an agenda, to fulfull a need. }}

Thus, many who believe in a soul (like myself) prefer to describe our worldview as "spiritual" rather than "religious"...as religion is out to profit from desperate folks who CRAVE spiritual guidance.

{{ You can see the propaganda all over- how religion makes you live longer, how religious people donate more money, religion helps you heal from illness better, blah, blah. Part of the purpose is self-flattery, part of it is to advance the Christian, gay-hating, "dominate the world" ambitions. }}

Friendship, community, meaningfulness are all ingredients towards a long life, because HAPPY. But what has replaced it is religion, the workplace, drugs/alcohol and anti-depressant pills.

{{ { We have been heard, Warren, by those that count }

Of this, I have no doubt. They all know my name--Bush, Romney, the CIA and NSA Directors--all of them. They would never admit it, but they do. }}

:D I didn't mean THOSE people, but I understand why YOU did! By "those that count" I meant the good people here and there, who SUPPORT our cause. Those "others" only count simply because they ARE the enemy, and the origin of our hunger for liberation.

{{ They wish I weren't here. It is a dangerous position to be. }}

It's an awful realization to understand there are many, and powerful, people in this world, who wish nothing but violence, misery and death towards us, as gay people who speak out in defiance. But it's the first step towards liberation.

The danger around me has manifest via my meeting Larkin, who's embedded himself into this Zodiac Cult. But I don't think any path of righteousness comes withOUT danger breathing down your back. I am reminded of the Tarot card with the image of "The Fool". He is shown carefreely walking off a cliff, to get to another cliff too far from his stride to gain purchase. Thus, he appears the fool to the mundane observer. Yet, he knows an important lesson in life: FAITH.

And it is THAT faith which will buoy him across the abyss to safely arrive on solid ground once more. In times of trial (as I'm going through re. Larkin), one needs faith to proceed, and carry out your mission. And one of the great tests in such a trial, is to be given as few clues as possible, that you may learn more thoroughly, life's difficult lessons. And why I believe this is the cause for Larkin NOT speaking much, and NOT giving me any clues, or reassurance that he does love me. He knows I'll be a better man for these trials, and he would NEVER forgive himself, should he be an obstruction to learning my lessons as best as possible. Would a drill sergeant be thought well of in the long run, if he went EASY on his neophyte soldiers?

And why this leads me to ponder on his being my guardian angel. (Or one of them, as Randolph certainly is!)

{{ They are not held back because they are principled - they are killers. They are held back because they know that something significant is going on, and they cannot get to the bottom of what it is. }}

They never WILL get to the bottom, though they themselves are surely bottom dwellers! For what lies in those uttermost depths is a most powerful undercurrent of positive, life affirming energies. UNobtainable to any but the most enlightened souls. This undercurrent will soon rise to the surface, flooding all other (and dark) currents with unstoppable good will. It will engulf the world. Starting with gay rebellion. It is our ideas, and that of a few others, that shall be given credit towards fomenting This Revolution. And it is this very DANGER that has sharpened our wits, our skills, in order to gain Ultimate Victory.

{{ They know that I am not simply a helpless patsy who would easily be just another of many, many silent victims. }}

Likewise, myself. I am only too eager to be networked with such kindred souls. I believe that the most highly evolved among them, are already telepathic, and networked with us (even though we're not yet too aware). Seems to me, that Larkin is such a one.

{{ Even though, for all outward appearances, that is all that it would seem like I should be. They smell the *extreme* danger. They would not admit that, either- but they do. }}

Of course they do...they have sensing devices tuned to psychic waves, future trends. But they are being OBFUSCATED from understanding certain properties of that realm. Thus, they are blinded to those factors which will give us victory.