Hetro/Homo Blues.

Been spending a lot of time with that Marlon character. He seems to have taken a fancy to me however there is always a fucked up side to everything. He claims to be straight - and I mean straight straight. And yet, he screws my emotions by screwing my ass at his convenience. And yeah, I am complaining.

You see, I am far too set in my ways to change now and I am not the cooing, sniveling pansey of yore - oh no, Dear Reader. I have been burned by far too many so called straights in the past. You know the score - we are all fags and we want what all fags want and the bottom line to that is love. Simple love.

But, that it seems is unattainable. Especially down here in ol' Mexico the motives of such characters are always - always - ulterior. Either it being money or clothes or drugs, the time you shell out for these fucks are never for your enjoyment but solely theirs. And what and how much they can get out of it.

Sigh.

Well, the last couple of nights have been visiting straight bars and me flipping the beer bill whilst Marlon and his cronies cruise for broads and drink up my wallet. Sure the evening ends with Marlon banging the bajeebus out of me - but it is all so empty. Worse than a one night stand because I do harbor romantic feelings for the boy. And he realizes this all the while beating his chest claiming his heterosexuality.

So, last night we walked the crumbling ruins of Avenida Mariscal and I finally cut the string - letting him know how I feel emotionally and financially about our friendship. He hesitated a little but finally agreed. We really have nothing in common. At the corner by my flat we shook hands and parted.

I feel nothing except slight sadness - not for losing him as a friend but that it had to be the way it was.

Son cosas de la vida...

Update: Later that evening to writing this post...

Muthuhfuckin' Marlon had the nerve - the downright audacity - to come by my place this evening with his new weasel faced bitch in tow. Some bobby soxed catholic school girl bubbly cunt named Zelma! Zelma??!! "Just stopping by to say hi and see if you are all right." He says.

All the while me thinking of ways of going Ed Gein on their asses! Ugh! Fuck! Death where is thy sting, you lazy ass?!

I'm not bitter, though. Nope. On the contrary, I wish him the best. Okay, okay - I wish him to catch some lingering painful disease. Why?!!! Why do I open up to these characters only to have a barbed knife thrust at first chance into my scarred and withered heart?

You realize I must do something erratically wacky to compensate for this act of random evil...

Stay tuned, Dear Reader, stay tuned....