Dear Friend,

I know you’re not all that interested in talking to me right now. You’ve been going through a lot lately. But you were more than just mean to me this past month or two.

Through everything, we never stopped being friends and I never stopped trusting you. If we’re going to keep being friends, you need to not take advantage of that…you need to make sure my trust in you is not misplaced. Understand?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m scared too. Actually, I’m petrified. I’m afraid for you and I’m afraid for me. What if you start treating me like that again? What if I can’t do anything to make things better for you? These past few months have been traumatic for BOTH of us!

When shit really hit the fan, I almost wanted to stop being your friend…I almost considered not trusting you anymore. Our relations had become so painful, and you definitely crossed boundaries that are not meant to be broken.

But then I realized how much pain you must have been in to resort to such drastic measures. Not only in pain, but also in pain alone. I reasoned that maybe you unintentionally crossed those boundaries only as a last resort. So I decided to keep trusting you, and to keep being your friend as best I could; to make sure your trust in me was not misplaced.

I just couldn’t let you be alone with that much pain, I just couldn’t do it.

So here we are. We opened ourselves to one another so intimately. Even if we did do it in a terrible fashion, we managed to stay friends all the way through! I’m grateful and impressed we were able to do that, with all the crap you’ve been going through.

It may not feel like it to you at the moment, but I think you’re starting to do a good job again. A really good job at being a good person. Even if we’ve recently only been mostly miserable when together, I still believe in you the way I did before. I sincerely hope that you feel the same way about me too.

If you do, then we’re officially in this together now buddy. You’re going to get through this. And I’m going to be here with you the entire time, okay? Even when I go to England, even when I go to the moon…when WE go to the moon?

Let me know! I miss you, the real you. Good things come to those who wait I hope. Stay fluid my friend,

A Frolicker of Fluidity

Dear Narcissist,

You have been out of my life for many years now. People seem surprised when that particular fact comes up. Apparently, you not being in my life anymore is somewhat uncommon.

When I think of you, I see myself as a child rather than an adult. It’s not a pretty picture. I suppose that’s just the last time I felt secure and whole with you.

You see, I can no longer love or respect you. Sometimes when I reason a thing out with my words, I hear your breath on my back. I taste your evil in my eyes. You gave up on me the way a rotten peach has given up on pie.

I want to hate you and I want to love you. I want to tell you that you failed the entire world. I want you to see the anger and pain in my eyes without hearing a single response. I want you to be someone you are not.
You made my life a living hell, and then I let you cut me out. I had no choice; I needed to heal so that I could live in the real world with everyone else.

But then I think of that world you live in still; a world I lived in with you. I think of all the times I chose to defend the rotten peach as if it were a planet of it’s own. There are days I can look up into the sky and see the noxious green fumes, fruit flies the size of minivans.

I will always try to indict myself for my own mistakes & wrongdoings. But I did not make you. I was not the peach tree in the orchard. If you cannot prioritize me, if you cannot love me…that is not my fault.

So I let you cut me out. Now you are my tree in the orchard; the cycle continues. I will not rot under the vine with you. I will harvest myself. And when I smell divine on the windowsill, with Donald Duck floating towards me in the air, you will not be inside the filling nor the crust.

You will be no where to be seen but in my head, forever stuck in the compost bin.

A Frolicker of Fluidity

Changing My Blog

I have managed to summarize my thoughts on Gender & Sexuality into two sentences: “My core belief is that intimacy, of it’s own accord, can create both platonic & sexual attractions. I like to experiment with this idea in the relations of my life.”

So now I’m going move on, and try writing an open diary of sorts instead. Each post a letter to a specific individual from my life. Maybe I’ll find it relaxing.

I recently found a diary of mine I started at the end of college.  I kept one as a kid too, and I’m hoping I’ll get it back someday. Between those two diaries, I wrote a significant amount of poetry. So I want to continue whatever it is I started all those years ago.

I’m hoping that by changing my style again, I’ll somehow learn even more about relationships than I already have.

Queerplatonic Relationships

Dear World,

Upon learning about queerplatonic relationships last week, I felt an immediate gratification of sorts. I strongly relate to the kind of love it describes. As I proffer my perspective, just remember that not everyone is going to share it.

A queerplatonic relationship is one that’s in the gray area between a friendship and a romance. Two people make an active commitment to one another, a commitment that lacks physical love making. But people can love without having sex. For some, that can be more rewarding. I think I am one of those people.

tumblr_m6wwgcchz81qckenlo1_500I love to love, and I need to be loved. But I have yet to learn what a romantic commitment actually means. Making love with a person I’ve made a commitment to? How can I make love to someone I’m not in love with yet…to a person I haven’t established a baseline with yet?

I don’t want to start intimate relationships with sex. I want to start them with love. Perhaps I may even want them to start and end without sex altogether.

So I explore what a queerplatonic commitment means instead. To me, it’s committing myself to be as good of a friend to a person that I can be. It means loving without expectations.

By at the end of the day, I go to bed alone. I maintain the independence of my sense of self; I haven’t melded with this person to form a single entity like those whom are involved romantically do. That kind of melding may not be in the cards for us, and that’s okay.

I just want to make my friend feel loved from whatever distance, and what’s wrong with that? Although I hope for the best, I don’t know what kind of relationship this will [or won’t] turn into. But I don’t need to know. All I need to know is that I’m going to love this person simply because they’re letting me.

Who knows, maybe I’ll learn what a romantic commitment really means in the process as well.

A Frolicker of Fluidity

“Keep it Behind Closed Doors”

Dear World,
A few months back, I invited a man over to my apartment for a single night of wine and sex. He was black. Upon arrival, he asked me if I had ever slept with a person of color before. His response to my confirmation was thus:

“Good, you know what to expect then.”

It sounded like something I might write at the end of an essay or article. I had no idea what he was trying to tell me, but questions felt inappropriate at best. I felt he was attempting to both open and close the topic at the same time.

It reminded me of a [black] friend with benefits I had back in college. I distinctly remember when he first met my dorm mates. Most of them were sitting in the hallway outside my door when we arrived. I was utterly surprised to see everyone staring at my partner in crime without movement or speech. A pin hitting the floor would have broken the silence.

With my dormitory door firmly shut behind us, he asked if I had informed them of his skin color. As a white freshman in college, it never occurred to me such an announcement could be appropriate. I suppose I thought of myself as “colorblind” back then. I don’t recall him ever coming back to my dorm after that.

Does there have to be this underlying belief in the popular imagination that sex outside the boundaries of the puritan tradition is so unreal? Is interracial sex really that big of a deal? Racial tensions aside, my dorm mates were still unnerved by the concept of me having sex partners, and somehow fascinated to meet them.

I don’t even remember how it is they got involved with that part of my life anyway. Then again, I was the kid whose mom was about to die.

Everyone seems hellbent on regarding non-procreative sex outside of marriage as “inappropriate” or “unreal”. It’s as though sex that’s thought of as “necessary” has been made invisible while all other kinds of sex have been demoted to second class citizenship.

If you feel that sex is best left “behind closed doors”, then I feel sorry for you. That is exactly where I think this attitude stems from. As humans, we are meant to expel our waste just as we are meant to release our sexual energy. Sex is a biological function built into our humanity, whether you like it or not.

“Keep it behind closed doors” is only one step away from banning the behavior altogether. Now unless you actually believe that masturbation causes disease (and thus should be morally abstained from), we should let sex out of the fucking closet already.


But if this is your closet, I’m definitely coming over to get fucked in it while wearing those heels.
I admit that sex can be messy, awkward, overwhelming, and not fun. But to deny it, and by extension sexuality, altogether is not how we solve this problem. Would you only go to the bathroom in your home the rest of your life just because you got constipated one time? That’s roughly what “keep it behind closed doors” translates to in reality.

So wherever you fuck, PLEASE GOD LET IT NOT ONLY BE IN THE CLOSET! If you ask me, everyone needs to have at least one orgasm in the great of outdoors just as much as everyone needs to walk through at least one rainstorm without an umbrella.

We humans are animals…there is no shame in that.

A Frolicker of Fluidity

Intimacy versus Gay/Straight

Dear World,

Why do we teach sexuality in terms of one’s preferences in terms of sex? Is that really the most important part of human sexuality? Sure, everyone has a preference, but why is that considered more important than intimacy, than actual relationships one possesses?

Am I to understand the most important part of any sexual relationship is how the genitalia fit together? I understand that’s part of how humans have sex, but surely we can leave committed partners to discovering that part of their relationship on their own.

If we were to teach sexuality in terms of intimate relations, as opposed to preferences for sex, wouldn’t our relationships only benefit as a result? Consider the metaphor below…

An individual with a PhD admittedly knows much about their specific field, but very little on practical uses of such painstakingly acquired knowledge. Their identity as an expert in their chosen field serves no specific purpose; their knowledge produces little, if any, tangible results. In other words, they might have accomplished nothing despite so many years spent acquiring an exquisite level of expertise.

In my opinion, a binary approach to human sexuality has a similar result. A strict heterosexual is an expert in heterosexual relations. They have spent years honing their craft, developing an exquisite level of expertise. But what if, like the PhD candidate, they have no practical applications of such painstakingly acquired knowledge? What if their knowledge of intimate relations remains just as pitifully ignorant as it was at the beginning of their “studies”?

I am not trying to demonize the strive a person might feel toward garnering an expertise on a subject. I am simply trying to identify a fatal flaw with a binary approach to human relations. Rejecting intimate relations based on sex or gender, ultimately, only acts to worsen a person’s understanding of intimate relationships overall.

A binary strategy too easily leaves the majority of individuals perpetually stuck inside an adolescent’s understanding of intimate relationships. Many haven’t experienced the full breadth of their own humanity as a result. We human beings are social creatures; we are attracted to one another regardless of sex or gender.

My perspective means engaging in relationships you will not find sexually appealing at first. But that doesn’t make those relationships any less crucial in advancing your ability to better incorporate constructive & satisfying relationships into your life.

In short, becoming an expert with constructive & satisfying relationships (i.e. intimacy) is markedly dissimilar from becoming an expert with either hetero- or homo-sexual relations. So while I keep my natural preference in mind within my own relationships, I also hold my fluidity in equal regards.

A Frolicker of Fluidity

An Incomplete Blackhole

Dear long lost love,

My love for you is incomplete.
It wisps in my numbskull like a broken spider’s web.
Fluttering on my face are your expressions.
Leaping from my limbs are your gestures.
Bewitching my brain cells are your gazes.


I traversed a black hole with you.
We approached the speed of light as our sense of time magnified.
Together, we gained the sight as our atoms spaghettified.
Our brains splintered, but my love for you never died.


Your knees thrashed at the event horizon.
Jagged fingers bruised my cheekbones as your elbows submitted to my caress.
Your face crossed many zones for a sinewy touch in that gruesome mess.
With irradiated skin, my love for you turned iridescent.


My love for you is incomplete and my fingertips are numb.
The hairs on my chest shrivel as if on fire.
Our thighs quake with untouched anticipation.
My tongue tastes stargas between our teeth.


Your blood dripped down my throat while my heart beated in your chest.
I couldn’t feel our sweat on our brow.
Our lips cracked at a jest as you twerked to my solemn vow.
Our thoughts entangled, my love for you never rested.


My love for you is incomplete.
It rests alongside the pillow on my black futon.
It sits in the facebook messages I send to myself.
It lives in the pipe lying on my coffee table.
It sizzles on the stove with my hand-cut bacon.


I traversed a black hole with you.
Untouched anticipation quakes at my thighs like a broken spider’s web wisping.
My sense of time is magnified in the blood dripping down my throat.
My love for you never died.
A Frolicker of Fluidity

Lack of Space

Dear World,
I was thinking this week on the lack of safe spaces where gender & sexuality can be discussed seriously. I am a member of a forum site called In short, it’s a space for people to talk about sex. It’s an enormous site. Even on this site, where folks flock to talk sex, there’s still no explicit area to talk about sexuality on it.

When I think of popular discussions in our culture focused on gender & sexuality, I think of random articles, talk shows, and political debates on gay marriage. I don’t think of a classroom, or a committee, or a non-profit that guarantees sexuality education for all (and has succeeded). Honestly, there’s no safe space to talk politics either…at least none that is provided by the people for the people.

Before automobiles and horse carriages, the streets belonged to the people. They could gather in numbers legally and actually talk politics. It was a space where issues related to the people, to our lives, was the focus (which certainly involves the topic of gender & sexuality). Capitalism has privatized that space with the automobile industry. Now we’re lucky if a sidewalk exists at all.

Discussions about sexuality & gender are treated with equal disdain. Sexual words are synonymous with insults (like dick & pussy) and childhood innocence (like penis & tits). Adults “know better” than to actually ask what the space between the vagina and the clitorus is called, or whatever it is they wonder about. Questions like that should only be vocalized during “the talk” with your parents.

Learning requires you to push yourself out of your comfort zone, at least a little.
What if you have more questions after “the talk”? Well those questions aren’t important obviously. It’s not like sexuality is a vital part of your life or some such nonsense. Who values real intimacy anyway? It’s not like humans are social creatures or anything.

What you should really be focusing on is how much profit you can create for your boss, for the system. You can fuck whomever you please, as long as you keep producing wealth by selling your labor.

I had “the talk” with my father. It went something like this:

Father: You know he’s 16, right?

Me: Yes…

Father: Okay, have you ever heard of statutory rape?

Me: No…

Father: It’s when you have sex with a minor. You’re not having sex with him, right?

Me: No, he’s straight.

Father: I just don’t want you to go to prison.

Me: Thanks dad.

That is the closest I came to actually talking about sex with either of my parents. Brilliant parenting skills, I know. If this is the only safe space the majority of Americans get to talk about sexuality or gender (esp. if it was anything like my experience), then I’m seriously scared for all of us.

A Frolicker of Fluidity

Relatinships & Intention

Dear world,

We all have intentions in terms of what we want in a relationship. Regardless of how long you’ve known someone, we all give & take actions for mutual benefit. I was just considering the importance of that.

Even if I don’t know what it means to be a good friend, I still can try to be a good person. It’s as if I am giving others positive emotions, so they don’t have to expel as much effort to feel them.

I can easily forget [when my life is full of stress] that my hope and joy can mean something to other people. Perhaps sharing my thoughts is not a bad thing, as I believed in high school.

I want to remember to intend a good experience for all parties involved within my friendships. When I am not in the mood, I can think of that and calm down.

If I become a person others want to be around, my life will improve. I’ll learn more about sharing my humanity and being happy. I couldn’t understand that when I was younger. My intention was only to survive I suppose.

But survival is not enough. I want intimacy in my relationships. That is my intention now because it has meaning to everyone around me.

A Frolicker of Fluidity

Romantic Intimacy?

Dear World,

How and when do people become romantically intimate with one another? I really don’t understand romance. I’ve engaged in romantic interactions with individuals I’ve had feelings for in the past. But I’ve never established any sort of committed relationship with anyone.

I admit, I’m terrified of becoming sexually intimate with someone I’m emotionally intimate with already. When I’m in the situation, it feels like I’m suffocating. There’s something wrong, and I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.

But sex does not a committed romantic relationship make, right?

I’ve watched sexual tension build to a breaking point in my friendships in the past. I’ve watched the intensity of a friendship build to a point where hugs and kisses weren’t enough to express how we felt for each other.

But then I hit a wall. Something goes wrong, and they’re angry at me or I don’t feel safe in their presence anymore. Such a juxtaposition makes me feel like an asshole actually. I doubt it’s fair to my “partner” when I suddenly feel unable to communicate with them anymore.

I’ve no idea how romance fits into a healthy sexuality. I’ve only just figured out how to have the kind sex that I want to have. I still can’t imagine having that sex with someone I actually have feelings for.

I have a difficult time seeing a person willing to put in the effort it’ll take to push themselves into my life, and vice versa. I think I’m realizing that I’m not good at relieving tension (particularly in relationships).

At the end of the day, this is how I like to think about it. Failure teaches everything, while success teaches nothing. I’ve failed so much in many different kind of relationships. That must mean that I’m going to garner so much success someday, I’m not going to know what to do with it!

            Am I afraid of failing with another person? Well that sucks…
But for now, I think I’ll settle into my routine of failing faster. I rather like the idea of possessing a will power stronger than all the failures in my life put together.
A Frolicker of Fluidity