The Summer Journals (Parts 3 and 4)

The 29th Of December, 2005 – “The After-Shock”

And today I started to feel the after-shock feeling. When the accident happened, I had to reel all kinds of negative feelings in and cross over any weakness. I overcame fear, frustration, anxiety, anger etc etc, for the sake of being strong and supporting my dad, sister and friend. Now they seem to bite my ass. I feel like crying and screaming, when I still have the duty to offer strength.

Here’s the whole story (in few words of course): my dad will spend too much money to fix the car and experience tells me it’ll make things tougher in the future. And I know I should thank for being alive and all (because the accident was pretty ugly for the car, only G-d knows why we were harm-free), and believe me, I do! But being sincere, I cannot help being kind of scared now, for what’s to come… To give my “Drama Queen” share of the day, when I often feel like this, as first escape I shop! But now, I can’t simply ask my dad money to shopping sprees, when I know he’ll spend a lot to fix the car. My life’s a bitch!! (Lol.)

But life goes on. As the Goddess says: “I’m not afraid of what I’ll face, but I’m afraid to stay”. That’ll be my 2006 mantra.

The 1st Of January, 2006 – “The Queer”

The New Year’s Eve was the best of my life! Even though I didn’t make out with anyone (as I wanted), I was in such environment that I felt 2006 would be (at least) as great as 2005. The beautiful, exciting and suis generis energy I was immersed, gave me joy and made me so hopeful. I feel reassured of myself and my skills in making myself happy.

Here’s the whole tale: my dad and I walked almost all the “Oceânea Avenue”, in Salvador, searching for something to do at night. I really wnated to go to the OFF club party, but I would not go to a gay party with my father. So, when we were walking back I saw this chic bar at the corner of Oceânica and Ramos Lemos street: Hospedaira de La Habana. It seemed an average inn/bar at the fancy Barra neighborhood and the price was good, so we bought the tickets.

When we arived at the party, around 10:30, there were all kinds of people: children, couples, foreign people, but I quickly noticed how many queers there were. And when Banda Di Dhendê (an Axé band) started to play, there were more of them than anything else. Oh my G-d! It was my first gay-friendly party, and I was in heaven! They were cheerful, funny, beautiful. But something hindered me: my dad. There was so many cute boys there and I wanted to make out with them all, but my father was always around and I was too chicken-shit to hide with some boy and hook up. (So in the end it was more my fault than his… lol.)

There was this trio, I named them the Destiny’s Queers. They were three gods, with killer bodies and scoundrel faces, acting in a very straight way, as if they were gamblers looking for a New Year’s Eve night stand – and they probably were. Two of them (who seemed more close to each other) seemed to be hooking the third up with another.

But soon the three of them left my eyesight, for I saw Jorge. He was the cutest guy there. The Destiny’s Queers were way hotter than him, but Jorge seemed more real, more close to my reality. He had a skin color of cinnamon and his face had a pair of soothing dark eyes; his lips had an enchanting aspect and exciting gravity. He probably was in his 20’s despite of the boyish look. We flirted all night long and I wanted him so badly. I wished my first hook up of the year to be as beautiful as him: I wanted it to be Jorge. Another thing that until now makes me shiver when I think about him: his hairy arms. I don’t know if I’m a killer for hairy arms, but I’m definitely one for hairy chest, and someone who has arms like his, surely has a hairy chest… oh dear! Besides, he had a stunning sense of style. His clothes matched perfectly and while everyone had worn those canva shoes, that are so fashionable now, he was wearing mustard moccasins. Well, I don’t like canvas shoes.

Uhg! I hate myself!… Because: we flirted all night under my father’s chin but I left it as it. As said above, I didn’t make a bold move in approaching him. In one moment, I was outside the party and he came along with a (girl) friend: “Hi, what’s your name?”, he said. Ironically (as if I could make more fool of myself than being in the urge of grabbing anyone and being too coward to do so “in my father’s presence”), I had a siriguela (a delicious tropical fruit I hadn’t tasted in years) stuck in my mouth. So I had to swallow the fruit and spit the lump beofre answering: “Lucas. Yours?” “Jorge, we talk later, alright?” To which I replied: “okay,” drooling and panting like a silly adolescent. Holy shit! I’m so pathetic.
See, once upon a time, my friend Jose told me that in a party, he flirted with a guy all night long, and in the end he froze and didn’t make out with him. I call him a dumbass and frozen-chicken. Guess we’re in the same frigde now. Anyways, after last night I don’t care anymore, I’ll free the slut inside me and dare to get whoever I want. (Ahem! As if… lol.) So, come 2006!