He Watches.

He watches me because he hates me.

But he doesn’t really hate me; he only hates what I do because he can’t do it.

He can’t do it because there are things that he believes are truth. He can’t do what I do because there are things in his past that he hasn’t accepted. He hasn’t accepted those things about his past because he believes (very strongly) that he wasn’t supposed to be here.

He doesn’t believe he is supposed to be here because ______ told him so.
______ told him so because they have no idea how to be in the world with him. So ______ hate him.

______ hate him because he is completely beautiful inside and out. ____ do not possess his appearance, his creativity, or his spirit. _____ try to kill him with their manufactured histories and legends written and broadcast in books and television, billboards, magazines, songs, gestures. They try to kill him off in the community; the workplace, the government, the church and most certainly in the bedroom. If this occurs, more often than not, _____ are successful getting away with murder. His death justifies and secures their place, their perceived power–another nigger throat cut, another nigger gone.

If ______ succeed in killing him off in the workplace, he will always accept that he is not good or smart enough, inferior. If the massacre occurs by the government’s gun, he will always think that he and those who look like him aren’t capable of governing themselves and that will always need a figurehead. If the slaughter occurs in the church, he will most certainly forget that he is a spirit having a human experience and pray to a God that promises, but never delivers, relief. If the extermination occurs in the bedroom, he will not only believe the myths about the supposed size of his genitalia and insatiable appetites, but also defend and protect with his life the lie that he is nothing but an animal, abusive and savage and will willing act according to specifications.

Constantly fed these myths reassures _______ that he will always be in combat with these myths. He will deny the reality of his surroundings that tells other stories, one in particular about a boy who came to Earth to eat dirt and shit what he didn’t need. That the boy is still waiting to know and feel and be without legislated religion fogging up his lens. And that the boy knows that the onus is on him to say “fuck you, I am me, not you.”

If all goes well as planned, he will fight obsessively with _____. Complain about what _____ think, eat, how ___ act, what ____ believe, what ____ do. This meditation on nothing is his albatross. Left unexamined it will continue to erode his sense of self, and circumscribe his love of self and others, and at worst, blunt his life. He participates in his own annihilation. Willingly.

All the while I am never completely out of his sight. By design.

He watches me because he waits (expects) conflict, not harmony. He is not familiar with males who do not want to fight, or brag about what they have or who they know or what they feel they possess that makes them worthy, valuable. He does not have friends, and really can’t tolerate lovers for too long because that would mean he would have to love them, thus remembering that he cannot love himself the way he is.

He is terrified (excited?) that all I have is love, and that it is all that I have ever had. I have nothing but love and friendship for him and this breaks his heart. While he is aware that love is all there is, he finds it hard to reconcile what he believes with what he knows. He watches me most of all because he recognizes himself in my reflection: someone who was hurt and doesn’t want to reenact the pain any longer.


He watches me because he cannot really hate me. He wonders my smile and wonders the day when he will be able to greet me with one of his own.

He watches and waits.

And waits.
And waits.


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