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welcome to the hole
Once upon a time, I kept a LiveJournal account, gryphons_hole, a deep, dark, comfy little hole in my brain where I kept notes on my life and queerness.
This is the archive to that account, mostly password protected, adult, queer content, stripped of photo content after the site restructured its photo hosting feature. I hope to restore that content as well.
If I know you, ask for the password. If I don’t, hope for a generous mood.
08.18.24 I have realized a need to continue in this space. A kink reawaking if you will, with content that may range into inappropriate for my other blog spaces.
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fancy dress/fancy saddles
Recreated/migrated from dapperkink, added 03.11.23.
Dandy dress-up for a local leather contest. I may have caused a kerfuffle with the leather youngins:
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navy wingtips
Recreated/migrated from dapperkink, added 03.11.23.
New Cole Hahn navy wingtips, gifted by Babyboy:
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Protected: my babyboy
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going out with my babyboy
Recreated/migrated from dapperkink, added 03.12.23.
An outing to see a drag show with my Babyboy:
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no, really, wtf?
“Love gagging on a thick manly cock…”
Um, as opposed to…? What, exactly?
Ugh.
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every day is AIDS day to me, so it still counts…
Posted yesterday, on FB:
today brings us back to world aids day.
in the past few years I have had growing difficultly speaking/posting anything about it. honestly? the topic takes up enough of my day to day life, I now struggle to make grand sweeping statements and sound bites about it annually.
don’t get me wrong, I am glad the subject gets this type of global attention, but sometimes the mass out-pouring on a single day reads too much like a trendy drive to display cultural activism or social consciousness. it is nice to see so many speak on it, but this is my everyday, I don’t get to walk away from it on december 2.
it is exhausting to move through the world with it; fighting stigma, ignorance and discrimination on top of fighting to stay healthy. so moving onward, I feel more and more compelled to make these trying and exhausting details of my life more private. I cannot fight
for the entire world; I have to fight for myself. if you are interested to know, seek me out for conversation on any other day of the year. I
think I may choose to make this day an annual vacation from it all, except the meds, of course.peace and love to all.
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Protected: men in skirts
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and so it goes – again and again and again…
At this point, I only have a preliminary x-ray and my PCP’s response, but early indicators, plus about three months of off and on pain, would suggest that I have osteoarthritis in my left hip. An orthopedist is next, but the x-ray shows something I think the doctor called a CAM distortion, (although a web search yields nothing but camera fixes. ;P) an irregular surface to the ball joint and a compressed space between the ball and socket. None of it sounds to assuring, it certainly doesn’t feel as such lately.
I asked about connections to my chemo all those years ago and he couldn’t discount it. I imagine my HIV meds are also on the complication list. Protease inhibitors can fuck up all sorts of things…
So, to recap, another end to another crappy-ass health year. The rest of my teeth are about to be yanked from my mouth, my left leg feels like it wants drop off my body every time I lift it from the ground, and my HIV status leaves me a social pariah in the vast midwestern wasteland. Not to mention that the idea of continuing in my shit-ass job in this physical condition leaves my brain numb…
These are the exact things that leave me on my last fucking nerve in regards to the continuing sentiments of how much everything gets better. I understand that some great things have been in my life, and some incredible people surround me in it, even if from afar, but my life is decidedly refusing to get better.
I am sick of being sick. I am sick of hurting, and I am most definitely sick of the haunting echo of bad choices made so long ago that will not ever go away. I get it. I suck.
I want to throw shit and break stuff so much right now, I can barely stand it…
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crazy as a bunny in april
Oops! That isn’t right, is it…?
So, my local watering hole hosted a Looking glass party for Halloween last night. The manager, as the Hatter, hosted a tea party. I had a excellent time.
So, the thing with me about Halloween, or costumes in general, is that I love making the costume but I dislike building and maintaining the character. It always seems to be exhausting. So, when the costume changed from the neurotic bunny to the crazy one, I was dreading the to-do. How tiring it would be to maintain full on bat-shit crazy for an entire evening? Bah.
Then I got the buck teeth, and I put them in. All the extra esses made instant crazy. I was spot on character all night long, and folks loved it, even as I drove them, well, nuts… I have never before accomplished such a good character for Halloween.
Such a good time.
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um, yeah…
So, I have never actually identified as a bear. Most folks know this. I have enjoyed them a good bit through my adult life. I have even enjoyed a good number of bear events, including as recent as a big gay bear prom just a week or so ago…
That said, I had an odd shift at work last Thursday, leaving me done at 8:30, so I went out for a bit, stopping first at the gay bar literally right around the corner from me. I ran into a few acquaintances that I hadn’t seen for a bit, and this was the exchange:
big, butch lesbian: “hey, Gryph, this is my new girlfriend, X. X, this is Gryph.”
BBL’s drunk bear friend: “yeah, he used to be heavier and hotter…”
me: O_<
So, there you go. For the record, I am currently 6’5″ and 230 pounds. Most of the time I have knew this group, I was only about 250-255… For the irony record, the bear looked like he had dropped some weight, more than I have I would guess, and I thought he looked the best I have seen him, he was lean and handsome and his belly solid and more manageable.
Seriously, though, this is a growing part of what makes organized bear events increasingly harder for me on many occasions. My suggestion: if you want to lose weight, lose it; if you don’t care, than don’t, but fuck you for needing me to be more unhealthy to want me.
As I said, fuck you.
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gryphon's hole 