I was born on June 4, 1969. Just weeks
before the Stonewall riots. Thank you, street fighters.
In 1980 when I was 11, I had my first "sexual"
experience with a lovely blonde blue eyed girl, who
later wrote stories about suicide and got pregnant by the kid who lived behind me and had served as my masturbation fodder for several years.
In 1981, what we now know as HIV was termed GRIDS. In 1982 at 13, I had my first experience with gay sex.
This year GRIDS was termed AIDS.
In 1984 at 15, I had my first and most memorable sexual
experience with snowballing. This is also the year that
AIDS became connected to the HIV virus and becomes known as
such.
In 1985, Rock Hudson died, and I dropped out of
high school. Fuck them. In 1987, ACT-Up was formed, and Reagan finally
said the word “AIDS” in a public speech. By
now, more than 25,000 people had died of the virus and the virus began to shadow the African continent.
In 1988, when I was 19, SupperDaddy U.S. Surgeon General C. Everett
Koop released the nation's largest public health mailing
with a pamphlet about HIV that reached 107 million American households. Reading that pamphlet in my
parent's driveway, I realized words were meaningful and the virus had something
to do with me. The veil of risky ignorance was lifted, and cum
became something different.
In 2008, having obtained a doctoral degree in literature,
I have realized gay literature is not to be found in the
Academy, and several hundred lovers past my blonde and
blue eyed girl, I miss the purity of cum. Meanwhile, worldwide,
an estmated 35 million people are HIV positive, and I continue to fuck among the ruins.
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