[reporting from Haiti]
The 30th of June, in the year of 2000, at 9:45 PM is when my new life began, a life that would be hard for me to fit into, a life which, six years later hasn’t progressed much domestically. From the moment I stepped out of the plane, watching the tall buildings, reflecting a completely different life than what I had been accustomed to for the previous 13 years, I had a knot in my throat. For six years, my attitude was changing completely. For six years, my personality was changing completely. For six years …for six years…for six years, absolutely nothing changed. Those wheels haven’t turned. Everything just kept going downhill every year that passed by with absolutely no hope at hand. On the 29th of June, I felt betrayed by the same people that I held so dear…and angry…and terribly sad that this is going to be the end of that life and I have to move on. That’s part of growing up, right? Moving on, forgetting the past to improve the present, that is already the future? The future is now, they say. Why the hell do we have to move so fast? Why is it we can’t slow down and enjoy the simple moments of our short life on this planet, before we make another mistake and ruin everything?
Six years: January 1st, 2006. A New Year begins, yet the same shit remains. And then, he came along. A simple message over the internet: just a few lines but with so much hope in it. Finally, something new, something to smile about, and something to forget the sorrows that came with the new life. Yet even as I found new love, something still pains me. Something is still missing. The family that I need to grow mentally with is missing. The country that I am attached to is missing. I may find happiness in New York, but I will never be satisfied. Everyone moves so fast, no one stops to think about what that friend may be really talking about, no one cares about anything, yet it’s seen internationally as one of the most advanced countries on the planet. So this is the price to pay for progress, eh? All money and absolutely no humanity? I know this sounds cliché but it was interesting for me to watch it on movies and criticizing how these people are going to self-destruct. But to actually live it? Overnight, my setting completely changed, from one extreme to the other, on the opposite of the mainstream. How can anyone survive this kind of a change and not suffer some kind of damage, whether it is in the way they act, the way they think, the way they view their surroundings…their attitude with their immediate family. I push my little brother away; I fight with my mother weekly, going on daily in the last month to the point that our relationship has officially hit rock-bottom. I look back to see if any of this could have changed. I look back to see if any tears could have been prevented. I look back to see if any words could have been taken back. I look back to see if any pain could have been undone. I look back…I look back and all I see is the same thing: all roads lead to Haiti. I’ve realized that it’s actually possible to continue a life here if I came back and stayed here permanently like before. I came back this summer and it’s as if my story just continued, with just a few gaps, but still logical. New York then would have been just a long halftime.
But as much as I hate the New York life, something still attracts me back to it. Whether it is my friends from Hunter College, my boyfriend or the bohemian life in the village, I don’t know which. It could be one of those, or all of them. But one thing is for sure: with the right spices, lawn in a bowl can be orgasmic for one’s mouth.
Monday, July 10, 2006
Monday, July 03, 2006
The Testicles of the Equator
[reporting from Haiti]
I have written too many serious blogs. It was about time that I write something to relieve any last stress that might be remaining in my body from the hectic school year. There are also other ways to take care of that stress, like drawing, sex with my boyfriend, singing loudly with the girls in the village, hanging out on the third floor bridge at Hunter College with the silliest friends you could ever meet in New York City, etc. But writing about what happens around me, whether it is good or bad, always puts me at some ease, helping me reflect back on what happened and hopefully learning something from it. And what has been bothering me (only to some extent) is the fact that every Haitian man that I run into has six-pack abs. I mean, where the hell do they come from???!?!?!?! Not everyone in this country works out, I know this for a fact, yet all of them look like they just fell out of a ghetto Abercrombie & Fitch catalog. The face doesn’t matter most of the time, watching these bodies sweat profusely under the scorching sun, making you cum in your pants instantly. It’ always that body, that Greek-like figure that the media has drilled into our heads, viewing it as a "hot bod". Can you honestly imagine a baby coming out of its mother with a little washboard on its stomach? Quite impressive I might say indeed. But I never understood what exactly makes us be attracted to this sort of thing. The fact that watching a man in contact sports, wrestle and tackle each other, or watching some woman slither herself, Egyptian-style all over a marble floor, reflecting her oversized boobs, can turn us on so much is quite an impressive biological concept.
This also brings up the homosexuality controversy, whether people choose this path or they just fell into it. I can honestly tell these scientists that say that we chose this path, are terribly wrong. I am frankly not attracted to a woman, her breasts, and her vagina, everything about her, expect her mind, if she is in good stance. But looking at a man, his biceps, his lips with that moustache or that goatee, his lean chest, his washboard abs, the V-shape the ribs form that lead straight down to the pubic hair, the phallic shape of his hard penis with the throbbing veins along with the testicles gently hanging off doesn’t just turn me on. When it also has some color added to it, preferably some Latino or some chocolate, hmmmm…It gives me an exhilarating, unprecedented feeling that I just cannot describe but is commonly known as sexual attraction……(pauses to jerk off)……where was I?...oh yeah, hot men…so what I was saying was that maybe some things are just not meant to be understood and we should leave them as is. Every time we try to understand anything we don’t understand, we end up digging further in than is necessary and sometimes, coming up with conclusions based on how we were raised, and not actual facts.
One last thing that makes me angry is the fact as to how the female body is so objectified, given so much importance, giving the hungry wolves out there more than enough to ogle their eyes at. HELLO!!!!!!!!!! What about us gay men and women? Is there anything for us? Even porn for us is scarce, unless obtained through some obscure website, where you’re mostly going be watched and suspected of pedophilia. Shit, you’d be lucky if you see one full hard penis and testicles, without some vagina or a mouth (a few mouths sometimes!) covering it. You try donating sperm and their magazines don’t correspond with your needs (does "Round and Brown" honestly sound gay to you!??!?!). The closest they usually have for gay men is "Martha Stewart Living" and I can’t stand the bitch nowhere!!!! It is time our society realizes that it is not only made of heterosexual men and lesbians. Sharing the world has never been mankind’s best attributes, so starting at such a controversial issue is not promising, most likely to end up in catfights, gauntlets being thrown, the works. Share, my fellow compatriots, share with all those that surround, even with masturbation…and this wasn’t even supposed to be a reflective blog.
I have written too many serious blogs. It was about time that I write something to relieve any last stress that might be remaining in my body from the hectic school year. There are also other ways to take care of that stress, like drawing, sex with my boyfriend, singing loudly with the girls in the village, hanging out on the third floor bridge at Hunter College with the silliest friends you could ever meet in New York City, etc. But writing about what happens around me, whether it is good or bad, always puts me at some ease, helping me reflect back on what happened and hopefully learning something from it. And what has been bothering me (only to some extent) is the fact that every Haitian man that I run into has six-pack abs. I mean, where the hell do they come from???!?!?!?! Not everyone in this country works out, I know this for a fact, yet all of them look like they just fell out of a ghetto Abercrombie & Fitch catalog. The face doesn’t matter most of the time, watching these bodies sweat profusely under the scorching sun, making you cum in your pants instantly. It’ always that body, that Greek-like figure that the media has drilled into our heads, viewing it as a "hot bod". Can you honestly imagine a baby coming out of its mother with a little washboard on its stomach? Quite impressive I might say indeed. But I never understood what exactly makes us be attracted to this sort of thing. The fact that watching a man in contact sports, wrestle and tackle each other, or watching some woman slither herself, Egyptian-style all over a marble floor, reflecting her oversized boobs, can turn us on so much is quite an impressive biological concept.
This also brings up the homosexuality controversy, whether people choose this path or they just fell into it. I can honestly tell these scientists that say that we chose this path, are terribly wrong. I am frankly not attracted to a woman, her breasts, and her vagina, everything about her, expect her mind, if she is in good stance. But looking at a man, his biceps, his lips with that moustache or that goatee, his lean chest, his washboard abs, the V-shape the ribs form that lead straight down to the pubic hair, the phallic shape of his hard penis with the throbbing veins along with the testicles gently hanging off doesn’t just turn me on. When it also has some color added to it, preferably some Latino or some chocolate, hmmmm…It gives me an exhilarating, unprecedented feeling that I just cannot describe but is commonly known as sexual attraction……(pauses to jerk off)……where was I?...oh yeah, hot men…so what I was saying was that maybe some things are just not meant to be understood and we should leave them as is. Every time we try to understand anything we don’t understand, we end up digging further in than is necessary and sometimes, coming up with conclusions based on how we were raised, and not actual facts.
One last thing that makes me angry is the fact as to how the female body is so objectified, given so much importance, giving the hungry wolves out there more than enough to ogle their eyes at. HELLO!!!!!!!!!! What about us gay men and women? Is there anything for us? Even porn for us is scarce, unless obtained through some obscure website, where you’re mostly going be watched and suspected of pedophilia. Shit, you’d be lucky if you see one full hard penis and testicles, without some vagina or a mouth (a few mouths sometimes!) covering it. You try donating sperm and their magazines don’t correspond with your needs (does "Round and Brown" honestly sound gay to you!??!?!). The closest they usually have for gay men is "Martha Stewart Living" and I can’t stand the bitch nowhere!!!! It is time our society realizes that it is not only made of heterosexual men and lesbians. Sharing the world has never been mankind’s best attributes, so starting at such a controversial issue is not promising, most likely to end up in catfights, gauntlets being thrown, the works. Share, my fellow compatriots, share with all those that surround, even with masturbation…and this wasn’t even supposed to be a reflective blog.
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