Post by Caden Dean on Feb 4, 2006 4:05:33 GMT -5
A bitter chill of February wind whipped my gelled spikes loose as I took a final puff from the cigarette in my hand. My hands had turned a bright shade of pinkish red from the lack or warmth. They stung horrifically with a intense pain that could only be caused by the severe cold weather. Earlier in the morning, the weather was much warmer and only a light breeze sent a chill through the air. However, an unpredicted storm blew over Dallas, casting the city in a frigid rainfall with icy wind. I tensed with ever passing car. Outside the gay bar, The Labyrinth, I awaited for a ride. I was frozen to the bone except for the warmth of straight vodka in my blood stream. For once I was not high, rolling, baked, fried, or speeding off my ass. I was simply drunk. Now, I waited. I waited for the only person in the world who understood me, Shane.
Shane was a beautiful androgynous lesbian whom I had met my freshman year of high school. She was my soul mate in that she and I were exactly alike in everyway except two. One being that I was a man and she was a woman and the other was the fact that I came from the backwoods of nothing and yes was the daughter of a successful lawyer and an interior decorator. Shane was the model lesbian. She was feminine to a certain extent, yet masculine enough to distinguish her as boyish sexy. Her attire had many similarities to my own, as she too dressed in male dress shirts with ties and jeans. With every breath in me, I loved her. I glanced at my watch, stolen from last night’s fling’s bedside table, 2:06 A.M. Where was she?
Before I could barely lower my wrist, the familiar screech of tires rounded the corner of Nichols Street and Luxington. The strange “blue” glow of Shane’s headlights neared the bar at a rapid momentum. Then they came to a halt. I stood allowing the blood to return to my legs and tossed the cigarette butt in a drainage grill. The smooth glow of her Ford Grand Turino. The white car purred as I reached for the door handle. Inside sat the most beautiful lesbian in the entire world, my androgynous femme.
Shane: “Sorry, I got held up in a four-way.
“The one near Lincoln Town Cars?”
Shane: “No, the one in Christy Nolan’s apartment.”
I laughed. Shane sped us into the night towards the chic neighborhood known as Treasure Island. Treasure Island was the type of classy neighborhood which had a cast iron gate around it. As Shane’s speed lowered to the desired limit, I felt my stomach knot with shyness. I felt the familiar giddy feeling teenage girls feel when a boy kisses their neck for the first time.
“Thanks for coming to get me so late. I wasn’t planning on Dr. Wonder-date to abandon me after our favor exchange.”
Shane: “No problemo, junkie. Just next time pick a bar closer to the girl I’m f*cking’s house.”
I flushed. Digging through her floorboard, I came across a tiny box of “goodies”. She nodded for me to try some. With a quick snort, I was no longer just drunk. We rounded the corner of the street and arrived at the gates. Pushing some strange beeping keypad, Shane accessed the gate security and into Treasure Island we began. The third house on the right, and we were home.
Shane shut the car down and swung her door open. I quickly followed her through the garage and into her room. Her parents had arranged for Shane to live in the right side of the house, above the garage. It was large enough for at least three people to stay in. For the past week I had been living here.
Shane: “I’m going to shower. Catch ya tomorrow?”
“I’ll be up for a little while.”
Shane: “That stuff will do it to ya.”
I watched her remove her jacket to reveal a light blue button down dress shirt with a black tie. She removed the tie and tossed it playfully at me. Her body lacked definition and curves. She was straight and muscular. Her beautiful hair dyed a brown color messy and in waves. Her eyes were rimmed with light makeup. She was practically more manly than I. I watched her disappear into a backroom and began rubbing my nose. It felt tingly as if it had lost blood flow.
“She’s absolutely beautiful, is she not? Shane, a glorious femme fatale who hides herself behind the androgynous life as a boyish lady. She gives tomboy an entire new meaning. She is my rock and my core, without her, I would be even less a man that I am now. It was Shane who originally helped me stick one foot out of the closet. It was Shane who introduced me to a life of athletics. It was she who I first did a line of coke with.
If it were not for our sexual preferences, she would be the one. When we were much younger, Shane told me the story of Alexander the Great. A man who lived his dream of ruling Asia. A young man who sadly died at the age of thirty-two. Despite the fact that he married, Alexander was a gay man. A young gay man who went on to rule Asia in its entirety. He was loved and hated. As am I.
The connection Alexander and I have is that we both come from fathers with an abundant amount of hatred for us. We both dared to dream even if it meant having all who loved you turn away. He went on to conquer thousands. I seek only to take the title from Shane Quickenbosh.
The difference between you Shane and my Shane is that she is destiny in the making. At the times of my lowest of lows, my Shane stood by my side and brought to my attention, that no one would ever see my true integrity and abilities in their full light until I could see myself as such. It was her words that fuel me towards our match Saturday.
My time in Valor has been brief, but I feel more at home and more intense than ever. It is my knowledge of the fact that in Valor I am portrayed as something worth the time of others that allows me to think and act normally. Before I found Valor, the only thing worth waking up for was another line, another hit, another swallow. My lust for love and drugs was the only happiness. Now it seems my life is budding so quickly. A shot at any title is worthy enough to cause me to almost fully sober up.
It was not the lack of money that kept me in nearly straight concentration. It was this growing emotion in the pit of my gut that screams champion in my ears. Shane Quickenbosh has been an excellent champion for his time being. However, I see his reign, like Alexander the Great’s falling before the hands of his own men. Gold is like a beautiful woman, like my Shane. It flirts and teases a man into this strange emotionally rollercoaster blinding them with only one lustful desire. To possess it forever.
Tomorrow night, a child, a myth to the ring will enter, cigarette in hand. Perhaps he will be sober from the growing sickness in his stomach, however he will walk towards Asia with his head low to the rain of cheers and jeers and his eyes high on the horizon. Alexander will mount the battlefield and wait for the opportune moment. Shane, you are the one known as “lighting quick” but I am the one who will freeze you into submission.
You are the current champion who seeks to continue his reign on into the spring of the new year, and I am the armature child following his dreams to the very end of the world. It will take more than your fast antics, your speedy delivery, and your great offensive skill to retain your belt into the spring. For as winter comes to an almost end, Shane Quickenbosh’s time as Junior Heavyweight Champion will fade into Caden the Great’s beginning towards Alexandria. Tomorrow night, you and I will settle the matter at hand. Perhaps I will sneak my beauty along for the ride. But being the good sport, someone as twisted and empty as I am, Quickenbosh I have agreed to form a verbal contract with you. When I take the title from your shoulders to relieve you of the stress of championship that may have possibly led to future drug use, I will invite you along with my androgynous and I to a celebration you will never forget. If you believe you are so quick now, try fighting me after three lines.”
The sound of the water running in the backroom began. I moved towards the kitchen to fix another glass of alcohol for myself.
“Remember Rome may have not been built in a day, but Asia was conquered in a matter of time.”
I swallowed the whiskey whole and felt the bitterness shake my insides. Stumbling, I fumbled my way towards Shane’s couch and collapsed. My head spun with thoughts of the title and the whiskey. I needed sleep….I needed to live my dreams.
Shane was a beautiful androgynous lesbian whom I had met my freshman year of high school. She was my soul mate in that she and I were exactly alike in everyway except two. One being that I was a man and she was a woman and the other was the fact that I came from the backwoods of nothing and yes was the daughter of a successful lawyer and an interior decorator. Shane was the model lesbian. She was feminine to a certain extent, yet masculine enough to distinguish her as boyish sexy. Her attire had many similarities to my own, as she too dressed in male dress shirts with ties and jeans. With every breath in me, I loved her. I glanced at my watch, stolen from last night’s fling’s bedside table, 2:06 A.M. Where was she?
Before I could barely lower my wrist, the familiar screech of tires rounded the corner of Nichols Street and Luxington. The strange “blue” glow of Shane’s headlights neared the bar at a rapid momentum. Then they came to a halt. I stood allowing the blood to return to my legs and tossed the cigarette butt in a drainage grill. The smooth glow of her Ford Grand Turino. The white car purred as I reached for the door handle. Inside sat the most beautiful lesbian in the entire world, my androgynous femme.
Shane: “Sorry, I got held up in a four-way.
“The one near Lincoln Town Cars?”
Shane: “No, the one in Christy Nolan’s apartment.”
I laughed. Shane sped us into the night towards the chic neighborhood known as Treasure Island. Treasure Island was the type of classy neighborhood which had a cast iron gate around it. As Shane’s speed lowered to the desired limit, I felt my stomach knot with shyness. I felt the familiar giddy feeling teenage girls feel when a boy kisses their neck for the first time.
“Thanks for coming to get me so late. I wasn’t planning on Dr. Wonder-date to abandon me after our favor exchange.”
Shane: “No problemo, junkie. Just next time pick a bar closer to the girl I’m f*cking’s house.”
I flushed. Digging through her floorboard, I came across a tiny box of “goodies”. She nodded for me to try some. With a quick snort, I was no longer just drunk. We rounded the corner of the street and arrived at the gates. Pushing some strange beeping keypad, Shane accessed the gate security and into Treasure Island we began. The third house on the right, and we were home.
Shane shut the car down and swung her door open. I quickly followed her through the garage and into her room. Her parents had arranged for Shane to live in the right side of the house, above the garage. It was large enough for at least three people to stay in. For the past week I had been living here.
Shane: “I’m going to shower. Catch ya tomorrow?”
“I’ll be up for a little while.”
Shane: “That stuff will do it to ya.”
I watched her remove her jacket to reveal a light blue button down dress shirt with a black tie. She removed the tie and tossed it playfully at me. Her body lacked definition and curves. She was straight and muscular. Her beautiful hair dyed a brown color messy and in waves. Her eyes were rimmed with light makeup. She was practically more manly than I. I watched her disappear into a backroom and began rubbing my nose. It felt tingly as if it had lost blood flow.
“She’s absolutely beautiful, is she not? Shane, a glorious femme fatale who hides herself behind the androgynous life as a boyish lady. She gives tomboy an entire new meaning. She is my rock and my core, without her, I would be even less a man that I am now. It was Shane who originally helped me stick one foot out of the closet. It was Shane who introduced me to a life of athletics. It was she who I first did a line of coke with.
If it were not for our sexual preferences, she would be the one. When we were much younger, Shane told me the story of Alexander the Great. A man who lived his dream of ruling Asia. A young man who sadly died at the age of thirty-two. Despite the fact that he married, Alexander was a gay man. A young gay man who went on to rule Asia in its entirety. He was loved and hated. As am I.
The connection Alexander and I have is that we both come from fathers with an abundant amount of hatred for us. We both dared to dream even if it meant having all who loved you turn away. He went on to conquer thousands. I seek only to take the title from Shane Quickenbosh.
The difference between you Shane and my Shane is that she is destiny in the making. At the times of my lowest of lows, my Shane stood by my side and brought to my attention, that no one would ever see my true integrity and abilities in their full light until I could see myself as such. It was her words that fuel me towards our match Saturday.
My time in Valor has been brief, but I feel more at home and more intense than ever. It is my knowledge of the fact that in Valor I am portrayed as something worth the time of others that allows me to think and act normally. Before I found Valor, the only thing worth waking up for was another line, another hit, another swallow. My lust for love and drugs was the only happiness. Now it seems my life is budding so quickly. A shot at any title is worthy enough to cause me to almost fully sober up.
It was not the lack of money that kept me in nearly straight concentration. It was this growing emotion in the pit of my gut that screams champion in my ears. Shane Quickenbosh has been an excellent champion for his time being. However, I see his reign, like Alexander the Great’s falling before the hands of his own men. Gold is like a beautiful woman, like my Shane. It flirts and teases a man into this strange emotionally rollercoaster blinding them with only one lustful desire. To possess it forever.
Tomorrow night, a child, a myth to the ring will enter, cigarette in hand. Perhaps he will be sober from the growing sickness in his stomach, however he will walk towards Asia with his head low to the rain of cheers and jeers and his eyes high on the horizon. Alexander will mount the battlefield and wait for the opportune moment. Shane, you are the one known as “lighting quick” but I am the one who will freeze you into submission.
You are the current champion who seeks to continue his reign on into the spring of the new year, and I am the armature child following his dreams to the very end of the world. It will take more than your fast antics, your speedy delivery, and your great offensive skill to retain your belt into the spring. For as winter comes to an almost end, Shane Quickenbosh’s time as Junior Heavyweight Champion will fade into Caden the Great’s beginning towards Alexandria. Tomorrow night, you and I will settle the matter at hand. Perhaps I will sneak my beauty along for the ride. But being the good sport, someone as twisted and empty as I am, Quickenbosh I have agreed to form a verbal contract with you. When I take the title from your shoulders to relieve you of the stress of championship that may have possibly led to future drug use, I will invite you along with my androgynous and I to a celebration you will never forget. If you believe you are so quick now, try fighting me after three lines.”
The sound of the water running in the backroom began. I moved towards the kitchen to fix another glass of alcohol for myself.
“Remember Rome may have not been built in a day, but Asia was conquered in a matter of time.”
I swallowed the whiskey whole and felt the bitterness shake my insides. Stumbling, I fumbled my way towards Shane’s couch and collapsed. My head spun with thoughts of the title and the whiskey. I needed sleep….I needed to live my dreams.
