ANXIETY

Anxiety is a song 
Playing in your head
That ends abruptly

Your heart skips 

At the sudden silence
Knowing you must get up immediately 

You must get up to cue the next song

Everyone is waiting for the DJ

Pressure of will they dance

Or will they scoff at the selection

Every decision is critical 

The DJ must not lose the crowd

Play this 

Play that

You haven’t played my song yet

You haven't played my song yet

This morning 

my heart skipped a beat

Like a scratch on a record

I was thrown into another groove
A groove unfamiliar to the regular cadence

I thought of that song in my head

The song that spun me 
Into a panic frenzy

It was when I raced out of bed

With my heart pounding violently
Desperate to find the next song

I realized the only crowd 

In that room was me

APPETITE'S BACK

August 4, 2026

It’s 1:00am in the morning and I had a sharp craving for a chicken sandwich from BK. This is the first craving I had in a long time.  

Normally I would hate this battle of “Should I go out and satisfy my itch.”

However I’m glad I’m actually getting my appetite back.  It was bad for a minute. I couldn’t take a bite of anything without gagging and wanting to throw up.

The grief of losing Boss weighed and still weighs heavy.  

And then there was the death of my father just a few weeks after My husband.

Throw in harassment of the narcissist pushing every button to make me either breakdown and comply to their outlandish and sometimes harmful commands; or just being verbally abusive just to get and emotional response out of me literally left me sick to my stomach.

Yes. A lot has happened.  

Yes. I have a few great support systems to help me through this time.  I’ve been taken great care of and fortunate to have a few great friends and a local support group that I recently started attending.

Feeling the need to write about it just hasn’t come up.

There is one friend that has been more helpful than he could ever imagine.  

Logan made sure to check on me regularly.  The beautiful thing about him is he never knew what to say.  He outright declared that he did not what to say or do.  The beautiful thing that I hope he realizes now is that he is already doing it.  When I need someone to talk to he is there.  Often times it is not what you say that brings comfort but just being there in times of need. And I love the fuck out of him for that.  I cannot say "thank you" enough.

By the way, I decided not to get the chicken sandwich and do some writing instead. The craving is gone . Not to worry though. My appetite is pretty much back. I just have a different relationship with the concept of food now which is somewhat a good thing.

GOOD MORNING BOSS

Every morning at some point I would greet Boss with, "Good morning."

He would reply back with, "Good morning Honey."

I'd follow up with asking if he wanted breakfast.  Usually hot chocolate with either a piece of toast or some kind of pastry would be his choice.

The last few weeks I'd wake up and start my routine. It is a little different than before but not by much.  It is much better if I wake up to a the black sheet covering the window so that the morning light doesn't slap me with the reality that morning is here. I don't want to get out of bed.  I really don't want to do anything but I make myself get out of bed. Once I fight the dread of reality, I brush my teeth. 

I do a few other things that are personal and then I call out,"Good morning Boss!"

I call out but don't get a response nor do I expect one.

I no longer wait for,"Good morning Honey," because Boss is gone.

My baby is gone. 

The one man that I loved deeply and dearly.  The one man that I know without a doubt loved me unconditionally is gone.

It has been 23 wonderful years.  We had our ups and downs. Good, bad and everything in between.  But at the end of the day we loved the fuck out of each other.  

It hurts everyday. 

EVERY FUCKING DAY!

EVERY FUCKING DAY!

EVERY FUCKING DAY!

But he is at peace.

Every morning there are a few things I do to get my day started. One of those things I do is greet him with, "Good morning Boss!"

Maybe I will chat a bit about what I got going on for the day or maybe I will just tell him, "good morning."

Just something to feel like he's still with me.

No. I don't want any signs. 

No flickering lights. No objects dropping on the ground.  Save the parlor tricks for someone else.

I'm good with just greeting my one and true love. 

I love you and miss you so much. It hurts so bad but your suffering is no more.

I will always love you.  I will always cherish you.

TODAY'S PICK: MACK'S

LINK: TODAY'S PICK

Today's pick is MACK'S. Although I just posted today, I am still working on focusing on this one.  It is on my night on the town In SF.  There was so much fun to be had back in the day. This recounts my time with a man I call The Leather Guy

Every now and then there is a sex session in which the chemistry is on fire. This is the one for me.

MACK FOLSOM PRISON (PART 1)

LINKS: THE ALLEY

             

A Summer night cruising the bars

San Francisco 2004

It was a typical cruise night for me in San Francisco.  I would let my husband who was then my boyfriend, know that I was hitting the city. 

I would neatly trim my goatee, shower, put on my blue jeans, Leather chaps, Leather boots, white t-shirt, black motorcycle jacket, muir cap and leather gloves.

I would get into the city around 8:45pm and spend around 15 minutes finding a parking spot.

About 9:15 pm I hit one of my bars on Folsom.  I went in not expecting much.  The night was still young but since I was driving from out of town I would get there as soon as possible to avoid being stuck in traffic too long.

The music was jumping as usual. 

Because I was early, I was lucky enough to get a seat on the bench in the back of the bar.  The pickings were slim taking that most guys were either gathered in their own cliques or not interested.

I walked into the smoking area which is the alley corridor.  This is where the guys mostly receive blow jobs.  Occasionally people would fuck back there depending on how crowed it is to blend in not to be seen.

There were a few guys out there but none that caught my attention or none that were attracted to me.

Around 10pm

I decided to check out another leather spot down the street.

The traffic on the sidewalk has gotten heavier.  More leather daddies and leather boys migrated from one bar to the other.

As I was walking east toward another bar, a stud geared from head to toe was walking west in the opposite direction. 

He was a White guy with a thin goatee wearing a black Muir cap, black sunglasses, black t-shirt, blue jeans under his chaps; almost exactly what I was wearing but he had black sunglasses on. 

It would be impossible to know if he was making eye contact.  I would look right at him as he was passing by in hopes there would be some kind of response.  There was none.

A guy that hot would definitely get a second look while passing by.  I turned around to get a back view of this stud.  He looked as good leaving as he did coming.  As soon as I began to turn back around he turned his head as to look over his shoulder.  The signal was lost.

"Did he turn his head to check out one of the many guys or was he giving me a signal?"

Soon after, he disappeared into a bar.  I continued my way toward the next bar. 

Passing 8th street I noticed a small doorway with the name MACK above the doorway.  Curious to find out what it was, I walked in.  I cannot quite remember, but I believe there were steps you needed to walk up to get to where the person at the booth was, taking money for entrance.  I soon knew exactly what type of establishment this was. 

Although I was cruising the town, I wasn’t very interested in paying a fee unless I felt it would be worth my while.

I decided to leave and head back to go to one of the bars.  I thought that maybe I would run into the hot leather guy.

11:00 pm 

I made my way to the back room of the bar.  Bodies were packed in the corridor this time.  There was a sea of men.  Some were chatting, others were smoking while checking out the scene.  Others were sucking each other off.

The smoke from the cigarettes started to irritate my lungs so I decided to leave.  I would travel down Folsom moving west.  In the midst of the pedestrians was The Leather Guy in the dark glasses coming toward me.  As he came closer I gave him a smile as acknowledgment.  He smiled back. 

This time when I turned around to check him out, he turned around also giving me a flirtatious smirk. I waited a few seconds before turning around to follow him. 

After a few steps he would turn his head over his shoulder just enough to activate his peripheral vision.

He knew he was being followed.

I knew that he knew.  

And so we played the game.

This predatory behavior, though usually ominous, is not only accepted but highly encouraged amongst each other in the gay world. 

As I followed my prey, I noticed that he walked into the building with the name MACK on it.

I observed and watched as he went behind the door.

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