Tag Archives: happiness

A Postscript to the Erik Rhodes Posts

A Postscript to the Erik Rhodes Posts

I just want to refer to a few of the more honest pieces out there…

The New York Times: “An Early Death but Perhaps Not a Surprise” (June 20, 2012)

“Mr. Rhodes went from using steroids to dealing them. And then, a few years ago, he tested positive for H.I.V. According to Mr. [Samuel] Colt, Mr. Rhodes found this out when he went to shoot a scene for Randy Blue, a company that requires testing.”

Treasure Island Media’s Blog, commentary by Paul Morris: “Crocodile Tears”  (June 19, 2012)

“In our own way we each choose how we will die. Each day, every hour, we make our choices, and those choices create our life, develop our persona, sustain our happiness, insure our misery and ordain our death.  Not one of us makes it out of this cockamamie game alive.  I learned long ago to accept without judgment the transgressive, terrifying, difficult and forbidding particularities of those I love and those with whom I work.   In the way they live they teach me about life and death and, more importantly, about what it means to be human and male.”

RawTop’s Blog: “People in Glass Houses Throwing Stones” (June 18, 2012)

“I’m sick and tired of producers of pretty boy muscle porn looking down on barebackers — trying to stigmatize us and get people to believe we’re the ones with a problem. Dudes… You’re in a glass house throwing stones. You’re the ones with performers dying in the primes of their lives.”

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Dark Passengers Series

Dark Passenger: How Should I Feel?

Tonight I sit with a weird feeling creeping up my spine. I find myself reduced back to a boy, curled up in guilt and a little confused.

Long-time readers will know my story but I imagine most won’t, so I should set the stage with my original Dark Passenger. The man who launched the twisted fuck I would become. In a very real and unusually strange sense, that man indeed is the genesis of a myself, out and very comfortable and confident in my skin. While I would like to think I’d eventually maneuvered my way out of the closet, I doubt seriously if I’d ever become as tolerant of others or even admitted to myself or other what a barebacking sleaze I can be.

As a youth, I was molested by this man. Most of the entries regarding him and what he did can be found here, if you choose to read:

If you choose not, it’s fine. Know that from some point until around 18, I had sexual encounters with this man — a neighbor and trusted friend of my parents.

So the reason for my odd sensation is the call today to notify me that my molester is in hospice.

The call to me is not unusual, I guess, since he and his wife were friends of my parents and, now that both my parents are dead, the community feels as if someone in my family should be notified and, technically, I am the head of the family. The local community is not aware what this sleaze did to me or countless others.

I spoke on the phone in an even tone, thanking the person for the notification. It wasn’t a time to be emotional. But now that I sit alone with the thought of him dying, I feel something. Perhaps it is the last of my own childhood finally passing away with the man who stole it from me, since so much left me when my parents left in the last few years. Perhaps it’s a kind of happiness or vengeance, knowing the fucker is finally suffering and will befall his own fate he promised me — that one-way ticket to hell. Or maybe it’s my own fear that I might be closer to death as well.

Or is it the fear that I might become the molester like him. The other day, a 14-year-old on Twitter solicited me. Now he had been posing as a 23-year-old. And when he admitted to being 14, I blocked him. And as I wrote, I volunteered at times for my own molestation. I wonder if the world were wired when I was 14 what I might have done.

So I sit, quietly contemplating a big-dicked old man as he teeters at the edge of the abyss. And I wonder why I give a shit and I wonder why I even care.


Q&A: Are You Happy?

Q&A: Are You Happy?

Q. Your latest blog entry is on happiness and the perception that you apparently aren’t happy; what, beyond breeding*, elevates you to happiness? (*this is assuming that breeding in itself makes you happy)


A. Nick, I could turn philosophical all over this question regarding happiness.

Let’s first take up whether breeding makes me happy. In general, I’d say breeding is nothing more than a bodily function. Some choose to relieve themselves into plastic or their hand or a pussy or some other place. I personally think my spunk belongs in ass.

So to answer your assumption, breeding does not make me happy. It satisfies a biological need and an instinctual compulsion I have to spread my DNA.

Let’s now consider the term “happiness” itself. Is that a state of being in which one exists or is it just a moment that’s fleeting?

I would suggest that since “happy” has a diametrically opposite state — sad or sadness — that it is an emotion that occurs. It is temporary.

If it is an emotion is it something that we have control over or is it something for which we are subjected? More questions.

So many questions arise that, I regret, an answer cannot be given. However, I will provide you with one of my favorite quotes from a movie:

[alert style=”green”]”I remember one morning getting up at dawn, there was such a sense of possibility. You know, that feeling? And I remember thinking to myself this is the beginning of happiness. This is where it starts. And of course there will always be more.”It never occurred to me it wasn’t the beginning. It was happiness. It was the moment. Right then.”

— Meryl Streep as Clarissa Vaughan in “The Hours”[/alert]

Happiness occurs, whether it’s something we influence, project or by divine providence or sheer luck happens to us. An experience that can fill your resistance and give such promise and joy and optimism and make you perceive an invincibility about life. But for every bridge, there’s a tunnel.

My journey now takes a different path.

Part of my reflectiveness on my Dark Passenger series has been to acknowledge those times when the negative influenced my existence and turned me into the creature I’ve become. My reflections on these virtual pages have, honestly, given me insight.

This journey now is fresh, raw, unfiltered through time. I wonder whether any insights will come. So, it too stands as an experiment.