
The scene opens in a small, bi-gay sex bar.
A very good looking young male in his late twenties is sitting at a small cocktail table surrounded by an equally good-looking and hip group of young men and women
Enters John; a good looking and in shape late forties male, joins the small group intent on listening to the young man tell a story. A story centered on the escapades of a former lover who, using his unusual and incredibly good looks, was able to charm the pants off any daddy. But Jeffery, the name of the young man in question, did not waste his talents on just any ol’ daddy. The boy had a sixth sense when it came to smelling out the rich ones. `I swear’, exclaimed the young man profoundly; `Jeffery, that little bastard, could walk through a crowd of potential daddies and, not only filter out the richest of them but, the hottest looking too.’ . Thus concluding this part of his story, he turns his attention gaze to John.
Not loosing a blink, the young man locks eyes with John; he continues his tale that for some unknown reason, seemingly hypnotically, entrances John’s attention. John becomes spell bound by the twist and turns of young man’s captivating story.
`The last time I saw Jeffery was right here in this bar. Unfortunately though, he met with a rather bad end but, however, not quite as unfortunate as it was for the lover he met that night.’ He concludes as he seductively leans forward, closer to John’s now, wide-eyed face.
Fully intrigued and captivated, John demands to know more of `this Jeffery’s’ escapade and how it all turned out. To which the young man offered to tell more but, only if John were to buy him a fresh drink and in the privacy of one of the secluded booths to the back of the bar.
Comfortably ensconced in the secluded booth with a fresh gin martini in hand, the young man picks up on the tale of young Jeffery’s seedy escapade: `It all started rather innocently. Jeffery, in his usual captivating way, was unleashing one of his unfathomable tales of romp and drug infused sexcapades to a group of his friends when he encountered Harold. To show how lucky Jeffery was, horse shoes I tell yah, anyway, there could have been countless other wealthy people in the bar that night and low and behold, doesn’t he land Harold. Harold Bartholomew the already famous attorney who too, was the sole heir to his family’s amassed fortunes. Not millions but billions!’
The waiter momentarily interrupts the young man’s story telling by serving up a bottle of expensive red wine with two glasses John had ordered, `Harold was instantly enamored by Jeffery. Who wouldn’t be, he was absolutely beautiful. Starting with his blonde, wavy head of hair that had all the signs of exclusive salons and his radiant, hot Mediterranean-tan skin purchased by his most recent rich lover, could melt butter never mind your heart.’
Fully entrance and captivated by the young man’s story-telling, he and John spent the rest of the evening together. After finishing another bottle of expensive wine, John could not hold back and asked the young man, whose name up to that moment he didn’t even know, inviting him back to his private penthouse suite.
It wasn’t until the two had made their way to John’s suite atop of Trump Tower, the most expensive piece of real-estate in all of Manhattan, lying naked in the luxurious, king-size bed replete with Egyptian cotton sheets, sipping champagne glasses of Dom Perignon did John thing to ask the name of the young man with whom he had just had wild passionate sex.
`Who me?’ the young man replied casually, `You’re obviously a smart man, I thought you would have figured that out by now, it’s Jeffery. Is that a surprise?’ he concluded coyly as he watched John confoundedly fall back in utter shock and surprise.
Not saying another word, John ceremoniously pours the last of the Dom Perignon into Jeffery’s half empty fluted crystal glass acknowledging his naive stupidity.
The End
emotion’s thoughts
Tags: anxiety, art, balance, being, commentary, content, drugs, emotions, fantasy, inspiration, life, mental health, nature, singularity, spontaneity, truth
Zeal
Emotions exposed like a banana peeled;
Love, hate, anxiety; meant to make moments real
Yet uncertain of how they are truly meant to feel,
Nor to the ways, by them, to confidently deal;
Giving rise to multitude of drugs designed to purposely steal;
To subjugate life’s true essence; its spontaneity, its zeal.
Fantasy’s Gain
Lost in a fantasy of the mind
Perfection of reason one can find
No blemish to purpose of any kind
A worldly presence – so sublime
Love’s emotion in all its essence
Nature’s beauty beyond transcendence
Breath to life sparkles with effervescence
Hormones rage as in adolescence
Brief though this experience may be
It is a moment to be felt, to see
For it is a state easy to conceive
It is for all who live and breathe
Human emotions at times lost to reality’s pain
Often taken to lengths insane
Let the wondrous power of the mind reign
By resigning to a moment, to a fantasy’s gain.
Singularity of Being
Existence is a cocoon of my making
Detached from passions of others
Numbed by avoidance of emotion
Sustained by the singularity of being
Absorbed into self-absorption
Abyss
The parameters that define this life are shrinking.
I am down to the base figure of one.
Looking outward only – not connecting
Floating in a void consumed with others
Singular digits comprised of the same emotion
But void of the fraternal element
Wishing and wanting yet non-committal
Expending time like an abundant liquid
Frittering away what we have – are
In anticipation of a greater dream
Fear is the glue that binds
The unknown –
In death comes the answer
To a life spent questioning
Share this: