I'm 30 years old...and i don't think there have been any or many days in my entire life when i haven't been witness, or subject of the hateful tongues, snares, threats, terrorism of the nations of homophobes that exist in our world, neighborhoods, streets, jobs, schools, stores, barber shops, corners, buses, trains-whatever you can think of.
They have filled me with anger, hate, fear, tears, and a longing for them to
I hate them 10x more than they could even think of hating me. They picture me in a sexual position just by my walking by. As much as they hate my lifestyle, they sure do obsess about it very often.
Enough has happened in every religion i've learned of, or seen people involved in to know that human error is at the heart of the fall of our spiritual systems, and human error is what makes every religous book contradictory to its own passages and mistranslated in its messages. So no high priest, or priestess of any system can tell me that the natural act of my sexual orientation is unclean before the eyes of my higher power. Between me and my higher power, god/goddess, olofi, and anything else that he/she may be called, there is noone who stands as an authority. So please, tend to your own penises, vaginas, anuses, and don't worry about mine unless you're interested in really finding out about it, and if i'm willing to show u.
For Women, it seems like they are so through with men and their endless issues about being in relationship to them, that when being with a woman is not in their desires, they take on a gay friend as a secondary boyfriend. But one thing i am not is anyones mascot "queen". I am an artist, and i am queer, and yes i can be funny, and colorful, and can cut up with the most flaming of us. But for all of that, you must already be in my circle, i must already feel like you're family to feel comfortable enough to be that open and free with you. I assure you, this is not all that i am, those moments of banter, and acting out, are fun, but i am not your court jester or comic relief. Nor am i gonna be ready to just become your personal hairstylist, makeup artist, stylist, counselor, just because i'm gay. I am not a secondary human to be at your disposal just because i am that insecure about how people feel about me that i must make myself worthy of their acceptance by being an accessory. My "gay" friend...my pet...my servant.
For the groups of men i always encounter this subject seems to be the biggest joke, the constant thing that they have to prove to each other that they are not. Well, i guess if you have to prove your "manhood" to your boy, or your friend, your "man", then that means that that person has some kind of hold, power, control of you doesn't it? So much so that they can tell u what you can and cannot do with your dick, and even worse, they even control your ASSHOLE. This is interesting when these are the same men who wear their pants hanging off their asses (which i absolutely love to see!!! roger that!) and who spend their days roughing each other up, and training each others bodies to look like their ideas of perfection. ***Things that make you go hmmm...
The tension i feel whenever faced with groups of men in corners, in front of stores, in barber shops, or gathered in packs on the train, or on a bus, is instant. I'm being sized up even while minding my business. As colorful, and tight as "straight" kats are dressing these days, even in my plain, baggy, and no frills as i appear on a daily basis, because of my unwanted, yet growing fame as an artist and gay activist
I have been harrassed, bullied, strategically terrorized, ridiculed, and falsely accused by these sons and daughters of rotten crotch bitches...who don't think of their own imperfections, corruptions, and ignorance, they're too busy worrying about keeping up a fascade of gender role, and holding everyone around them accountable of their own shackled mind.
My conflict with my anger and hatred of these folks is that i believe that our god wants us to love unconditionally, and to even have love for your enemies. I also believe in turning poison into medicine. I also have to face them from the minute i leave my apartment to travel anywhere i am going. I ask for strength, and to numb my hypersensitivity to their toxic clouds of hate.
Where are our heroes? where are our soldiers? it seems we (lgbtq folks) are more vested in tearing each other down superficially, while the rest of the world handles the rest. Meanwhile many are living and suffering through these biases in silence, and afraid to turn to anyone. I will continue to voice what i feel, and to cry out in public if i have to because i want it to be known that i am experiencing an injustice everyday of my life just for being who i am...with all of my colors!
photograph by Idriis Thompson
In Loving Memory of Daniel Mejia
Thank you for baptizing me Mama "Ohm" and for my Mojo Bag
I miss you and love u dearly!!
Ok...so my life has been a series of bad news days...weeks...months...and yes years. My artistry and presentations have been what keeps me holding on and moving forward during these many horrific situations, crisis moments, nervous breakdowns, anger streaks, isolated depressions, anxiety attacks, and drama queen sessions. I pat myself on the back (silently) for even having the nerve to create through all of the inexplainable things that occur to me and around me. 
The most recent and most pleasant surprise to me has been being featured in Bleu Magazines' Spring 2011 Edition. It is out in Newstands and Barnes & Nobles stores now. It features a brief bio about me and my work, and it also invites folks to come to my blog, which is very new, and still being developed (so please don't insult my lack of preparedness...lol) 
