i was almost an abortion

Saturday, December 31, 2011

twas the night

twas the end of the old year,
a new dawn would break,
and put an end to the old one
which was just one big mistake.
so i called all my friends
tried to make some amends
for the blunders in my past
that i did this year last.
as i look now, ahead
i choose to, instead,
make 2012
a year in which i delve
to times better spent
on a life i'll reinvent.
so goodbye old year past
it was fun while it last-ed
but it's time to move on
i'll be happy when you're gone!

happy birthday Mark Nelson!


one last thing,

i'm sorry.

to all the people i fucked over,

all the times i fucked up,

all the messes i made,

all the times i was messy,

i'm sorry.

i never meant to hurt you,

i always tried to do the best,

but sometimes i went about it in the wrong way.

but it was never malicious.

i'm trying,

and i'll try harder this time,

to make up, repair, and fix

all the broken ties and disasters i created.

i'm really sorry.

i love you.


Friday, December 30, 2011


i just got back from an NA meeting.
i had forgotten how much i hated meetings until this one,
when someone in the room raised their hand and started blaming others in the room for their relapsing.
isn't that typical of an addict?
take anything you can find, and blame it for everything you have become.
it infuriates me, and makes me wih i never had to goto another meeting again.
but, once in a while, i guess i do.
i'm not perfect, and i'm not special...
but i'm smart, smart enough to know when i'm being foolish.
the last year was a year to point finger and blame the universe formy problems.
but in reality, those problems were caused by, accelerated by and done by, me.
by me and to me.
no one else.
step one in my new life is to understand and not blame others for my unfortunate choices i make to use drugs, make myself depressed and become and stay an addict.
it did nothing for me but make me fall, but fall i did, and fall i just may do again, but...
i won't blame anyone else for that.
that is part of whatr makes me the person i am, and will be.
every second a chiice is given to you,
do i want strawberry or vanilla ice cream?
would i like to go right or left?
do i wanna get high, or not?
it's my choice, my mistakes, my life.

my life, my mistakes,
my choice.

what moore can i say?
it's finally clear...
crystal clear, that if i use, i'll be a mess...
and i won't move forward, but rather, back to who i used to be, was, and still am...
it's my problem, my life, my mistakes, my choice.
and i choose to not be a mess, anymore.

try, try again.

starting over.
simply put,
everything must change!
an inner vision today, inspired me to understand in it's entierty,
the way things really could be if life was different.
if i played by the rules and played the game a little differently.
would i be in the place i am now if i indeed played the game the way everyone else does?
but the games rules have changed, gotten tougher,
and so, so i have i.
i've needed a change in my life for years
but never took the initiative,
well, i thought iwas but really wasn't,
to let go of the bad and accept good,
 and change the bad and in return back to a goodness
that i had forgotten.
from now on, i am going to try, harder...
it's never to late to let yourself change things up a bit,
or a lot...
it's never too late.
my life will be more structured in a way i can't imagine yet,
and i will try and function in a normal state
like other people do, normal people,
people who have jobs, and kids, and a life...
interesting concept.
having a full time job, going home to the wife and kids and summering on Cape Cod.
that's not my goal personally, but it's a way of life i can't really imagine.
i love my chaotic no-idea-what's-gonna-happen-next way of living,
although, having structure somewhere would be a good thing.
and so, structure is rule number one, goal number one, and the first thing i will try to cultivate in myself,

then i gotta get my fat ass back to the gym cause i am fat as hell.
it's gross.
then i want to get back to the city,
clean, sober,
botox and a few pulls,
and i'm back to the old me.
maybe some fillers here n there,
but otherwise, the old me.

and i'm ready too.
it's like when you can see the horizon break when the sun rises out of it.
at first it's hazy and burning so hot it sizzles,
then everything comes clear, comes into focus.
it's the time i have been prolonging for years,
and so,
here it is,
here i am.
destiny takes over and the man lives a normal-ish life.
it sounds like a perfect plan.

2012 will finally be THE year.
although supposedly every year is also supposed to be the year.
it just never blossoms the way we expect.
but with faith, hope in one's self, a willingness to try,
and and a few goals,
i believe i can make it.
i'll try anyway.

styled by the one and only, david dalrymple.

Coming Home

one more day.
thank God.
i can't take much more.
but, like a circle, i've come 360,
and finally feel ready to come home.

2011 wasn't kind,
made me blind,
forgot what good was,
left me for dead.
had nothing but bad things
going through my head.
but through the dark, there was light,
hard work and determination,
washed away
all the pain of yesterday.
so now i hope and i pray
that tomorrow's another day
2012, i hope will be
something better for us, ahead.

it's time to put all the bad aside
look forward and stop kicking ourselves
for the past mistakes and blunders.
i'm starting over,
without regret for my past,
and beginning again,
one step at a time.
my grandmother used to say
the way you go out in the old year,
is how your entire year will be.
so, clean your house,
wash your clothes,
start out anew,
and maybe, just maybe,
the new year will be something clean,

it's time to come home,
make life better,
and begin again.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

let me out

stuck in a funk
nowhere to turn
my mind is blank
i see nothing ahead.
with my closed eyes i see
what i want life to be
but when opened it's not
even close.
so to bed i return
close my eyes and submerge
to the beautiful place
where i'm supposed to be
in my destiny.
get me out of this place
i have no time to waste
let me out
set me free
let me live my life free.
cause it's getting late,
and these dreams are fading,
i have no time to waste.

Monday, December 26, 2011

the road he chose long ago

today was a day
when it started i, should have ran,
but instead thought i must
try and be good, trust
and respect who i am
and begin once again,
like the times when i was in demand,
before i spoiled the grand plan
and rejected again
any chance to remain,
for my love to regain,
what once it had lost
years ago,
in those years sans control.

the show that was shown
opened eyes and exposed
feelings that had lost all control,
and become something else
drained any life
from diminished insights
and itself then reported
a life simply retarded.

was it true?
could it be?
is it that hard to see?
 how so easily manipulated
they choose to be
never shameful,
always lifted
her life depicted
was one looked up to
and admired
the way they were
like movie stars
like somethng special,
something great,
looks oh so close
but is oh so far,
they plan it that way to make you feel
the things here offered, could be real,
but real to whom?
who really cares,
those foolish ones who stop and stare?
i know, whatever,
it isn't fair.

and the sun went down, on his first day,
and poker players yelled
with much dismay
about a wild card gone astray.
this is how his day ended,
tomorrow must be better
the sun will shine
i'll last forever
from deep dark shadows to bright day light
my eyes will open, inisde i'll feel delight
for it's like the newborn
from todays tale,
 the one in a manger
the one for whom God really cared,
he chose to live out his destiny,
and become the true man he's supposed to be.
nothing to hide, no where to run,
caught, exposed, naked in the afternoon sun.
it's something truly unreal to feel
when you know deep inside that what you know is real.
no one can tell you anything else,
because it's your word,
it was done, it exists.
and the story will tell, as it unfolds,
of the off course this man took
and the road as it turned,
and the hills that arose
as he walked down that road he chose long ago

Sunday, December 25, 2011

why NOT to wear a metal cock ring

you'll always be my hero
even though you've lost your mind...

and i did.
as i walked into the doctors office two days ago, still aching from the cock-ring that was too tightly wound on my cock, shivering from the ice cold blood in my veins, and the light headed-ness in my head, the first thing i could say to her was "i've done something stupid". i pulled down my sweats and showed her what the metal piece had done to my piece, and she screamed..."you need to go to the emergency room, NOW!"
and i went.
i was given pain killers and something to make me drift off, as they took a chain cutter and snapped the metal ring off, causing me so much pain, and a rush of blood to my brain, that i passed out, cold, for ten hours. when i woke, hooked up to IV, the doctor shook his head and told me how lucky i was. lucky? well, it is possible that when these situations occur, that blood is lost to the penis, creating gangrene, and must be cut off.
so, lucky, i guess, yes.
i came home, and slept two days straight, in pain, on Oxycodone, and thanking the newly born Jesus Christ for sparing me and my penis...

merry fuckin christmas to all!
ho, ho, i'm a stupid HO!

i aint going anywhere, ever again

as the winter shortens it's days it brings depression to me, a deep down disturbing depression that makes no sense and causes real emotional anguish. i can't get past it. it leaves me numb and sad, lonely and isolated, trapped by the four empty walls around me. it's my goal to get over it and on with life, but it's grip is so tight and hard, it makes it almost impossible to move.
i  hibernate in my head, and become locked inside a small cold room where my thoughts are confined to the many ways i have let myself down. once i was on top of the world, my images flooded the internet, and my spirit flew high. but that was when times were good, the economy was bright, and i was a different person. it was before i let drugs take control of me, and before my career hit rock bottom. i was young, energetic and full of faith in the promise that everything would work out fine. my body was in shape, and my mind was even more sharp. i had the world at my fingertips, and i touched everything i could possibly touch, see everything there was to see, and do everyone i and everything i could do.
i was going to change the world, i thought, and then it all changed.

to take the pictures i take, i had to experience things i had no concept of. i had to dive into a pool of people who had gone their own way, and lived their own lives. as i collected and soaked up their ideas and lifestyles, i  found myself moving closer to the dark side, where i was becoming someone else, and living out that other persons life. the energy was intoxicating, and i drank it up.

my mind which was somewhat still innocent, became black, and my heart turned to soot. i was buried by things i couldn't get out of my head, and finally collapsed in a pile of thoughts i couldn't let go of.
i have become someone else, and my journey now is to find myself again.

i have every intention of digging as deep as i must, to recapture the boy i once left in the dust. he still turns inside me, he is certainly not dead, but what's left is his memory, locked away in my head. he screams and he cries, and i hear him and know, for as much as he tries, i just can't let him go.
he is what made me good, what made me tick, and his presence is needed if my mind is to tick. i know he is out there, and somewhere i will find, him cramped in a corner somewhere dark in my mind. when i look back, catch a glimpse, of this magical boy, it brings to my eyes a few tears of joy. he was someone i liked, someone i trusted, his moves and his ways sometimes golden encrusted. he had something i didn't, and that was innocence, with the knowledge he's gained he'd discarded that since.
but his dreams still alive, inside this old man, will be relived and revisited, and that is my plan. to nurture and stroke this boy who once lived, deep down inside, and the promise he'd give. i have one chance yet, to this boy, i will get, back and be good to, it's my goal, that's my bet. he will live and be deemed, in my heart and my mind, he will be set free, no more darkness he'll find. his dreams will relive his old destiny, and be back once again, he shall be set free.

i miss myself sometimes. it may sound narcissistic, but true, i once had a promise, inside, and the promise was so simple, it made me rush out of bed every morning with excitement. this past that i've created, in my mind, and in truth, is someplace i had to go, and so i did, and am now through. i feel like a change is brewing inside, and from this place i perch, it just can't be denied. i must follow my destiny, follow my dreams, and revisit that boy, and the dreams that he dreamed.
as i sit and i type, alone in my room, i feel something changing, something ready to bloom. there's something i haven't done, one thing left i must try, and that's to be true to myself, and my power inside. it's something i always trusted, many years ago, before i let the darkness spin me out of control.

for the first time in years, i can see, and see clear, what i am meant to be, take control with no fear. for i know that i'm close, i know that i'm not far, from the things i do best, leave behind all my scars. but my scars will then show, what their meanings truly were, and i'll rise above dust, be myself, and endure. i have regained my faith, restored my old trust, and inside i know now, it's because i must.

this is the dawn of a new me, and i think i will be happy, and like what i see. i have no regrets, i don't think i'm obsessed, but instead i feel that the real me's been deeply repressed. there's a fire thats burning, and it's hot to the touch, it's a fire that mine, and it's burned down any crutch that i've used, and wall i once leaned on, it's out of control, and this time it's a fire i won't put out. it's who i am, it's based on all i've seen, felt, lived and experienced, and it will burn straight from my soul.
so, i promise myself, and to you who have witnessed, beware of the man you once dismissed.

one year ago today should have been my last, but i survived. it's taken me a year to say confidently, that i'm back. and i aint going anywhere, ever again.



christmas morning 2011.
outside, there is no sunshine, no snow, only rain.
a cold, bitter rain that saturates the skin and goes directly to your bones.
there is no warmth, no nothing to comfort or console you,
the world feels empty, i feel alone.

this day which is supposed to be the most joyous
is one, so far, of bitterness.
it represents the past twelve months for me, perfectly,
as this past year has been one where no flowers bloomed,
no sun rose, and no hope was to be seen.
and this very day, which represents a year of almost the end of my life,
begins with no excuses or promises, and concludes with nothing more than emptiness.

last year, today, should have been my last,
as tomorrow is the day i got in my horrible car accident which i barely made it out of.
four broken ribs, a brain contusion and complete memory loss
was all i had to show for it, that, and a year of working hard to regain myself as i knew it.
friends have disappeared,
loved ones slipped away,
work abandoned me,
my career diminished.
in one year, time froze,
and life stopped.
there were no songs that could lift me, no movies that made me smile,
for i had reached the bottom, and had no strength to climb up.
the spiral downward took years, the slow climb up would take more.
i have yet to reach the first level, as my mind plays tricks on me and makes me think i am better.
but inside, my heart knows the truth.
there's no sunshine in the future, no warmth upon my shoulders,
no love in my heart.
in a world of seven billion people, i feel all alone.

the four walls i see
confine and shelter me from the world outside.
a world where people move, speak and love,
walk, reach and grow.
alas, it's a world i lost sight of, a world i once was a part of,
but a world i am not of courage to re-enter.
for there is also one thing to fear, myself.
i have crossed and burned many bridges,
destroyed many contacts and isolated many friends.
i have lost my faith in the kindness of others,
and emptied my heart of all dreams.
there is nothing left, but the sad lonely end
of an artist who once felt
he had nothing to fear,
yet fear is all that's left,
in a mind that's now cold,
and the winter is back,
and there's nothing left for me to hold.

if i close my eyes, i see nothing,
a terrible fate for a man who's vision was his passion,
his brain was his beauty, and his life was his dreams come true.
but they'll be no sunlight,
since i lost it, maybe,
they'll be no tears from inside
anymore, it's just empty
i've seen it all, and my vision now is hazy
i can't see ahead, i look back and it seems crazy.
for someday i wish to look up and see hope, maybe,
hope will appear and my life will come back and it will change me.
i had a dream once,
it was so beautiful.
i was on top of the world,
surrounded by friends and loved ones,
who supported and encouraged me.
my destiny had been fulfilled,
my visions had been met,
my hopes had been more than realized,
and i was a great man.
that dream has since died,
and the nightmares have taken over.

if i dig deep in my soul, i know, somewhere, i'll find
a solution to all the despair in my mind.
i know what i need
that's myself who will save me
from all of the years of self abuse i have given
all the tears i never shed,
all the wrong paths i took instead
of the clear open one, ahead,
my destiny just bled.
like an open wound it will heal,
with only love can i feel
i have something inside
and no more can i hide.
it's time to stop my ordeal,
confess, and reveal
that i'm stepping up and defying
all my words made for lying.
i have been given this chance
to begin and once again,
maybe dance in the light
of a moon covered night.
for this time i now know
what the emptiness holds,
and i don't want it, anymore.

this is my time, my moment, my place to shine,
take control and regain what i lost
all those years that i tossed.
i was give life, as a gift
and abused most of it.
but abuse no more, i will,
for i have time left still.
and this time the gift is acknowledged, accepted, and thanked.
i will change my life.
i will become the man i am supposed to be, again.

it's time to rebuild.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

do the wrong thing


1:40 am
driving myself home from a really bad trick.
i had met this dude on Grindr who was a hairy hung top who had a hungry smooth bottom boy coming over. we were going to tag team him, and good. as i pulled up to the apartment and finished my cigarette, i got a text from the guy asking if i was there yet. i answered by obnoxiously ringing the doorbell to announce that yes, i was.
when i walked into the house, the owner answered, hot hairy, and yes, he was hung...i immediately liked him and thought that i was gonna have to swallow that meat of his, like, now, cause yea, i'm a top, (cough cough) but hell, i'll suck a big fat cock DRY! he walked me to the bedroom where the hungry bottom lay, head over the side of the bed, mouth open...ok, this Gridr trick was actually gonna be fun.
i undressed without even saying hi to the guy on the bed, he'd have all the info about me he needed in just a minute. when i walked over to the bed, the top daddy was feeding the hungry fuck his fat cock, and i got hard just watching. i yanked on mine twice maybe before it was rock hard, and so i directed the bottom to stretch his mouth open and i tried stuffing mine in with his, until the bottom sniffled and sat up. hmmmm, ok.i imagined myself in his situation and thought how i'd be teary eyed right now forcing the two cocks into my mouth like the fuckin whore i was...but the bottom said he didn't like that, and so i went behind him, pushed him down, and told him to suck the other guys cock, and i went ahead and just started slapping his ass, getting it ready to be violated. this he liked. and so, i reached for a condom (unfortunately) which was one of those tight kind that don't fit anyones dick, and of course, lost my hardon, immediately. but i know myself, and i usually try and shove my dick in semi-hard, cause hard just hurts an ass too much, trust me, i've been there...and the bottom turned to me as i was stuffing myself into him and says "it's too soft"...hello? do i know how to fuck or what?? i know my cock swells up as soon as it gets in, but the tone of voice just kinda killed my mood, and so, i just backed away form him and laughed and pointed to him and asked the top guy who this bossy bottom was.
this sent her over the top, cause without saying a word, he got up out of the bed, got dressed, and slammed the door shut behind him.
good, i thought, i'd be more than happy to suck off this dude all by myself.
nope, apparently that wasn't gonna happen, because top daddy was laying back stroking his beautiful cock which was making my mouth water a little bit...and when i grabbed it and was about to shove it as far down my throat as i could...he came, and screamed when he did, like a woman. ugh. i had had enough. so i got dressed and made a quick getaway to my truck. inside the truck, out of the clear blue, my phone made the little noise it makes when i have a message, so i went in and saw i had another message on Grindr, but the queen was too far, and i remembered that i had to drive past a truck stop, which i like to frequent late at night, so took my chances and ignored the message, and drove.

when i pulled up into the truck stop, i noticed one particular 18 wheeler that had all of its lights on, which, in old school terminology means he's looking to fuck around (also if they blink on and off the high beams, or if they are stepping repeatedly on the breaks)...fyi. so i parked next to him, pulled out my meat and started stroking. well, he rolled down his window and told me if i didn't get away from him now, he was going to call the cops. damn, didn't he know he was supposed to be looking to get sucked off?! well, that's all i needed to do was to get arrested while upstate at my parents house for Christmas break...so i left. fast.

i spotted one more truck with a similar cruising truck driver "i'm looking for sex" etiquette signs, pulled up, cock still out, and waited, and cruised, and waited, and cruised some more, until i got the hint that these guys had obviously not been reading their gay truck drivers manuals enough, cause this was going nowhere...

on the ride home, i realized that it was now close to 4, and i should really just drag my tired ass home, BUT, i was proud of myself for trying to do the wrong thing, and trying to work a situation as well as i could. good or bad, succesful or not, i had lived up to my standard of being the whore that i was, and did my best in a bad situation...
listen, not every truck driver is a shot s the one i picked up last winter in the parking lot of Walmart who sat in his truck and when i pulled up beside him, exposed himself to me, invited me into his cab, and then let me suck his big fat cock till he blew his load down my throat...all while i looked at photos he had taped up of his wife and kids...
now HE was raised right, knew his signs correctly and could spot a sucker a mile away.
but not tonight i'm afraid...
not tonight.

see, i did my research!

Wednesday, December 21, 2011


2day i spent the day editing film.
a long day in front of the computer,
but it's what i love.
here are a few images from my portfolio that reminded me
just how much i love being gay,
shooting the most beautiful men in the world.
people always tell me i have the best job ever...
and i have to agree, 

 from DNA magazine

from ESQUIRE magazine

 from GENRE magazine

 from KNOCKOUT!, a calendar i shot of ultimate fighters

 from MANNER magazine

from OUT magazine

from DNA magazine


the trouble with me is...

the opening shot i use on Manhunt...
it never fails.

the trouble with me is,
i never learn...

there are somethings in life that should never be ignored
and yet...
somehow, i do just that.
i don't know if it's just because i'm an idiot,
cause i am...
or if it's because i'm A.D.D.
which i TOTALLY am...
or if it's just i can't possibly do the things i know to be most important.
like say, for example...
the simple fact that i do stupid things
over and over again.

this is now the third time in a year that i
in a rush to get laid,
squeezed on a metal cock ring
that was too small for me, and,
got it stuck.
this one i am dealing with as i type (in agony)
has been on since i hooked up with a big hot hairy daddy
four...count them FOUR days ago.
like the retard i am,
i had to take a cialis also,
which just made my cock swell up even larger than it already is,
and because it's on so tight,
my balls have swelled to at least twice the size they usually are
(and they are already pretty huge)
and they ARE NOT deflating!

i've been in pain for four days,
and i told a friend about this little problem i was having,
and he tells me that he heard i can fuck up my shit forever.
so now, on top of being in stomach cramping pain,
i'm mentally stressing that i'll have to have my cock removed.
something a narcissistic sex fiend like me
fears the most.

i used to make a goddamn living off this cock...
since the age of fourteen,
when one day, at the public swimming pool in my town,
an older guy
(he was probably 40, but i was a baby, so thought he was about 60)
followed me to the urinals, where he promptly pulled out fifty bucks
which he offered to give me if i let him suck me off.
(was he a pedophile or just a man with extremely good taste?)
i mean, i've always looked older than i was...
well, my mama didn't raise no fool...
i saw the fifty bucks and snatched them right outta his hand
and walked over to a stall,
dropped my swimsuit,
and let the old guy slurp out a load.
anyone who wouldn't have done the same thing is an idiot in my book.
i would see him at the pool at least once a week for the rest of the summer.
i made about five hundred bucks off the guy,
and again, i'll repeat, i was 14.

my hookering career lasted till the bitter age of 40,
when i decided that i just couldn't imagine anyone in their right mind
paying for it anymore...
(not that i'd refuse if offered again).

so now i sit,
alone in my bedroom,
in pain,
with a swollen cock,
and all i can think of is,
how much i want to go get some ass tonight while my cock is still
ridiculously, insanely swollen.
i could probably make good coins off this fucker right now,

i never thought.

i never thought i'd be doing this for two years,
i never knew i'd live to tell the story,
i never thought.

my story is different because it is one that was not written in the stars.
it's a story that was marred by the presence of it's main character, me.
i never listened to anyone, never took advice, cannot be taught, and refuse to obey.
i am a self created being that learns, or does not, from my own mistakes.

at first glance, people think my presence in my community was natural, as i had been around for years, when in fact, i took all the back roads and winding paths i could, almost avoiding the inevitable. my background is fashion, a career that both launched and abandoned me. i started out of college as a fashion editor for W magazine, low on the totem pole, but with grand ambitions. within months of starting my chosen career, i was vaulted into space by the publishers who saw me as something special.
i was, for a few years, the golden child who could do no wrong. my lack of knowledge in what i was doing was the thing that made my approach different, as i just went in, head first, with a certain trust built into my gut. i never questioned my ideas, i never doubted my intuitions, and i never followed tradition. instead, i took the little knowledge i had and morphed it into something i could understand, something that made sense to me, and something that i liked visually. it just made more sense to me that way.

my editors were stunned at how quickly my new approach was in fact tangable and accepted in the industry, an industry that is supposed to be about change, but was secure in it's old school ways. but then here i was, 19 years old, an editor at W, and reaching out and making my statements ones that were accepted and sought after by the old regime, as well as plausable and understandable to my generation. and all i did was take what they had been doing for decades, and twist it. my background being art history and fashion was vaulted by the simple fact that i grew up in the years i had. years of change that had come to fruition by constant change, the deaths of the generations before me of AIDS, and my inner fears and beliefs in experimenting with what was acceptable. i was a child of the me generation, where the only things that mattered were the things i let matter. there were few gay men left in the world from the previous generations, as they had been devoured by a virus that was supposed to have wiped us out, yet, i had survived. somehow, with all of my calloused ways, i had been skipped from the destiny of men only a few years older than me, which made me feel untouchable, yet vulnerable.
it should have been me, too, as i was not cautious, was not careful, and not playing by the rules.
i set up my own rules because quite honestly, i thought my destiny had been pre-written and i only had a few years of life left in me. i was diagnossed with AIDS at the age of 20, and at that time, there was not a lot of hope in sight. so, i chose to live my life the way i saw fit, have fun, party till i dropped, and touch everything i could. and i did.

by the time i was 21, i had been exposed to the grand excess of high couture, had lunch with Dolce and Gabbana and Romeo Gigle, been coddled by it's headliners, had worked my way into the hearts of the industry by being the very thing it didn't understand. that was, being a child of street culture. clubs, music and street fashion were boiling with life. there was something happening underground that i was at the right place and time to be a part of and also report on. i could be accesable to the new trend as i fit in with at it's people, yet i was smart enough to know when to step back and document it. my intuitions of trends was highlighted by my use of cocaine and ecstasy, clubs and the movement music was about to make. house music was in it's glory, washing away a decade of bad music, and it touched us children who had no guidance and made us feel like we belonged, finally, we had something of our own. that very something was the same something that at that moment, had the world in it's hands. it was the birth of a new thinking. a carefree attitude that had been banned years ago when AIDS was destroying the very people it needed. and for a brief moment, there wasn't a care in the world.

house music and club kids ruled the earth, as well as the catwalks of Paris. they infused their insanity to the backbone of society, made every outcast a celebrity, and won the hearts of the world with their modern no holds barred imagination. the usual idea that designers dictated fashion was shaken by the fact that now, fashion was born in the clubs and on the streets by people who couldn't afford to buy it, and so, they created it.

drag queens and club kids who were considered unacceptable because of their very beliefs were being flown to Milan and Paris to represent the new look. people dropped the high priced clothing that kept them safe and secure, and began wearing their underwear as outer wear. bras were worn as tops, and men dropped their drawers and let their underwear show off their newly chiseled bodies underneath. these bodies were there and flaunted because they represented the end of an era that had been, for a decade, covered and hidden by shame. AIDS drugs were keeping men alive, and so, the dying, wasting away look of the gay community was reinvented as a hyper masculine and untouchable. men started going to the gym, showing off their muscles, exposing and promoting the idea that AIDS was now the thing that was dead, and not the people it had effected. we were alive, and had been repressed, so it was time to take back what we had lost. the very same people who had, five years ago been given a death sentence, were now living life in excess, and enjoying every second of it.
marky mark was the way we all wanted to look, and his bad-boy band image, something we all aspired to. i was in the right place, with the right look, at the right time.

by the time i was 24, i had racked up a list of achievements that i would never in my wildest dreams imagined, including becoming a fashion editor for L'uomo Vogue, and styling for clients like Vanity Fair and Vogue, celebrities such as Ricky Martin and Christina Aguilera, and i was completely unstoppable and untouchable...i had reached my goal in less than ten years, so, what could i possibly do, or where could i possibly go, next?

Al Parker trilogies