Monthly Archives: January 2014

Getaway (The Wolf)

There’s a certain intimacy to driving at night, being locked in a moving box with two other people, sharing each breath, the journey, the dark. There’s silence but for the rain and the wet whir of the wheels on the road and the windscreen wipers’ slow intermittent swishing. That and the two other heartbeats and the soft whispering breath of my passengers. Brax’s heart beats faster than usual and Ferro’s is always going a million miles a minute, something to do with his physiology. The slight hitch in breath like a break in a gale was alert enough that the other wolf was about to speak.

“Where are we going?”

“Far away from here,” I said. The Witch muttered something about a museum in Wales. “I think we need to stop for the night.” I admonished quietly, bracing for the coming Witch-storm.

“We need to keep going -”

“He’s right,” Ferro interrupted before the Witch could unleash some of his crazy on me. “We should rest, plot over our next move. Y’know, maybe eat.”

A sigh. I shot a small smile at Ferro in the rearview then glanced at Brax. Whatever this guy was doing, it was taking its toll on our Witch. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair stuck up in black cobweb tufts around his pale face. He often joked that he had trapped a demon in his soul; there were times, like now, when his pupils dilated and the band of gold separating the green from black took on shades of red, and his eyes became two fire-lined craters leading into the abyss that, yes, did stare back, when I suspected that he was in fact telling the truth.

“Brax you’re running on fumes,” I said, turning back to the road. For a few seconds I could still see those eyes floating on the road ahead of me. I shivered and shook my head. “Let’s rest up,” I continued. “You’re no good to us half dead.”

“…Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” He folded his arms gently and turned to lean his forehead on the window. I could sense Ferro’s grin before I saw it in the rearview.

“Okay,” he said.


Treasure

Treasure.

I had a dream about you. We were at a wedding, but it wasn’t yours. Everyone was dressed in white. They were smiling and laughing. We were trying to find the hidden treasures. Tears ran from your eyes. Tears ran from the sky. I gave you my jacket to hide behind but the pearls fell off and the threads unraveled. The rain smelled like earth. Your hair was wet, your dress turned green. How beautiful, they said. The treasure stayed hidden.


“I’m straight acting, you be too.”

You are not “straight acting.” I hate to break it to you sweetie. What I think you’re trying to say is that you’re masculine. Which is a form of internalised homophobia and misogyny. Like having feminine qualities is a bad thing. Most of us, no matter how ‘butch’ or ‘femme’ we are, will have stereotypical masculine AND feminine qualities. Whether you want to admit it or not, it’s true. I was raised by a horde of women, with very few strong male presences to mimic, so a lot of my mannerisms and traits are quite typically feminine. Why is it a bad thing? It’s about gay men thinking they have to act like Straight White Male* idiots to be accepted by society and to be desirable to other men, and it’s fucking rubbish. Why would you want to be like those pricks? The ones who bullied you at school, who hit you and chased you in an angry mob like a fucking witch out of school and who spat on you and threw chewing gum in your hair? These idiots who oppress EVERYONE other than what they perceive as “right” and “normal” these bigots who you HATED growing up, who made growing up something to rush through, to run from, to overcome, and now you’ve BECOME them? What the fuck? This is damaging. Same goes for this fucking racism prevalent on many a gay man’s dating profile. “No fats, no femmes, no asians. I mean, I’m not racist or anything…” Yes, yes you fucking are. You narrow-minded bigoted PILLOCK.

And you know what else it is? About “passing” for straight. Why? Why the fuck do you care that anyone knows your gay or not? Why is it so SHAMEFUL for you? Well fuck that. You hide in your closet, but I am not about to allow anyone to try to make me feel ashamed of something I have absolutely no control over. Over love. Fuck you. No one, whatever their sexual orientation, has to or should have to fight to fit in to a heteronormative lifestyle. Remember Hitler people? Are gays now the new Neo-nazis? Fuck. That. Shit.

There is no proscribed way in which you should love, who or how you love or fuck is up to you and the people involved. You don’t have to accept everything you’re told to accept. Fucking think and feel and act for yourself.

  *I would like to point out that I actually have male friends who are both heterosexual and caucasian who are lovely and very open minded and are WILLING to be open minded, which I think is an important distinction.