okay, for those that did not already know i am HIV positive, i am sorry. I have added the other monologue called "paying the toll" i wrote and performed in a show called "did you say love?" one oftwo peices i wrote for that collaboration with other writer/actors project. it ended up being a very condensed version of the one man show i had always wanted to do. response to my piece in the show was incredible, to say the least, and so i realized maybe a one man show would not be such a pipe dream after all, and now i will be doing it in march, and it will be called "damaged goods". the peice "525,600 minutes - a year later" will probably end up getting reworked and put in the show.


-----

Paying the Toll (written early november 2002)

In my family, passion for anything other than the ways of God was the work of the Devil. Your sins were roadblocks barring your road to Heaven. God meets your needs, and you should NEVER question what he does or does not give you, lest he take it from you. We were raised to be humble God fearing suburbanite republicans, like my father and his father before him.

Can I get an amen from the congregation?

God, and therefore my father, really hated the 80s, when I was growing up. Rock music in that decade was the work of the devil, So we couldn’t even listen to Amy Grant, let alone to the Culture Club, George Michael, Prince, or Madonna like I so desperately wanted to. TV was full of vile representations of sex and greed and corruption, so it was nothing but religious propaganda like those asinine Davey & Goliath claymation cartoons for us. We were kept extremely guarded from the world and all it’s sinful ways.
But you can’t keep the river dammed up forever.

At the age of 11, within my father’s God fearing house, I found my one true passion, in the form of one of God’s most hated taboos.

I was introduced to the joys of being with a man by my own stepbrother. (dramatic gasp of shock)

Wait it gets worse - we were listening to Def Leopard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” the first time we did it. Satan was just all over that room- coming out of the speakers, making the bed shake…

My stepbrother was two years older than I was, and while I realize now that this was not the best way to learn, he handed me the greatest gift I would ever know.

Sex.

The most truthful way I had ever expressed who I was.
And I hit the ground running.

When my family found out, they told me I was no longer a part of the family, and my stepbrother and I were placed in separate foster homes. I paid the toll to get away from my father, his family, and his god, and it was worth every cent.

With my stepbrother out of the picture, I started sleeping around with every experimental straight boy or not even realizing he is gay yet queer boy I could get my hands on. I was the neighborhood sex-machine in every place I lived.
And I was good at it too.

Good enough that they would keep coming back for more. And more. And more. I was getting all the appreciation and attention and love from these boys that I had never gotten from my cold and emotionally frozen family.
But eventually, I grew out of it. Or at least, I tried to.
While I was in high school, I grew weary of the incredible amount of sex I was having. I would go to a party, find someone to blow, and then afterwards, have a couple drinks or a couple of hits off a joint, and find someone new, and rinse and repeat, and rinse and repeat. It was not uncommon for me to end up sleeping with 5 or 6 guys in one weekend. But my heart yearned for something more.
I wanted a boyfriend.

Oh, I know what you’re thinking… “SOUNDS LIKE THE LAST THING THIS FAGGOT NEEDS IS ANOTHER BOYFRIEND, AM I RIGHT BOB?”

But I wanted something bigger.

Something with meaning.

Someone to fall asleep with.

Someone to wake up to.

Someone.

Anyone.

Anyone that I could love unconditionally, that would love me back… unconditionally.

But no one in my life had ever taught me to love. I didn’t have the first clue how to express love unless it was on my knees. I went on so many dates with so many guys, seeing every time some vision of us, monogamous and happy. But all they saw was a fantastic fuck with no return of phone call necessary.

After I graduated high school, I realized the problem was me. If I gave them what they wanted with no challenge, I would never begin to be able to keep them. So I stopped sleeping around so much, and refused to sleep with a guy until we were several dates in. But I didn’t know how to make it last. Once they got the sex they wanted, they moved on and settled down with more “respectable” boys.
I began to put on weight, and get more and more neurotic.
So I moved to Austin. I thought, “GO SOMEWHERE WHERE YOUR REPUTATION DOES NOT PRECEDE YOU, WHERE YOU CAN START ANEW”

And I met someone wonderful.

And I think he loves me.

We had been going out four months, and everything was beautiful. We talked nearly every day, the sex was incredible, but most importantly, he saw me for the person I am, not as the incredible blow jobs I could provide. We made a connection. We were monogamous. At the end of the road was a city of eternal love and passion and joy.
And then one day he got a letter from the CDC that someone had named him as a previous sexual contact that had tested positive for HIV.

We held one another close, and I assured him that his test would come back negative, thinking that our love was too strong for some stupid little virus.

And a week later he called me.

Positive.

I immediately got my test, and knew that there was no way that I was going to be positive. I mean, after years and years of sleeping around with somewhere between oh…150-200 guys, I had stayed negative, and had been very cautious about STDs. The one time I really let my guard down, really opened my heart…

Positive.

After years of being promiscuous, no, being downright slutty… I got it from monogamy.

Irony is a bitch, isn’t he?

I tried to make it a non-issue, to make it just a small milestone within our relationship. I am a survivor. Along Life’s road, I had managed to survive religious persecution, physical abuse, mental abuse, verbal abuse, sexual molestation, rape, SURELY I could survive something this small in perspective.

But despite my best efforts the relationship crumbled.

Consciously I was choosing very strongly to not blame him, I mean it’s not like he knew. But my sub-conscious knew that he had given it to me, and it killed my sex drive. I mean, how do you make love with the man who handed you your death sentence in the very act of loving him? How could I possibly look him in the face each day and not see my own impending death reflected in his eyes? So I did the chicken-shit thing… I disappeared without a trace. I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye or tell him why.

So now I am on a medicine regime that’s giving me nausea, vomiting, and constant diarrhea for the next 10 months, but I like to think of it as Love’s Chemotherapy. Every time I take a pill, I think of it as putting some change into the tollbooth drop slot of life.

I stopped calling. I stopped seeing him. I stopped loving.
I lost my passion.

The only passion I ever really had.

Because it had cost me so much already.

My family, my well-being, my health, my very existence- all paid as toll, paid in full.

I still have hope though. The field is narrowed, but I know that someday I will find someone who will also be positive, who will love me as much as I love him.

But for now, I am getting off the tollway. The price of love is more than I can afford at the moment.



-----

525,600 minutes - a year later


525,600 minutes
525,000 moments so dear
525,600 minutes
how do you measure a year?

in truths that she learned
or in times that he cried
in the bridges he burned
or the way that she died

---"Seasons of Love" Johnathan Larson (1960-1996)

10/17/02.

it is amazing to me how much a string of numbers can weigh so heavily on my soul.

a year.

it's amazing to me how much a life can change in mere minutes.

i can remember when they told me.

"chris, your test results came back positive. i'm sorry."

just like that.

so cold, so clinical.

time stopped. i felt the breath leave me and knew at once that nothing would ever be the same.

i remember refusing to cry or get emotional. i just brushed some imaginary dirt of the knee of my jeans and chewed on my lower lip.

"do you have a cigarette?" i asked the little middle aged jewish woman.

she frowned at me. "You definately need to quit smoking."

I shot her a subtle look that said 'now is hardly the time to preach to me about this'.

She relented and called one of the other counselers who smokes and he came, took me outside and gave me several cigarettes. we sat and smoked. he tried to make conversation with me, but i was more interested in staring into the trees, and observing the leaves whihc were in the middle of changing colors and dropping. i had always loved the fall as a child in michigan. it had always been the prettiest time of year to me, and it always meant halloween was approaching. my favorite holiday, my favorite season.

i got in the car and called jacque. she and zach, her husband, whom are my closest and oldest friends, had been the people i ran to when derek had gotten his results back, a sure sign of what my test results would be.

they had talked me through it calmly, and when i exhausted myself emotionally to the point i was stuttering so bad i could barely form a sentence, they held me, and then got me drunk and high on jagermeister and weed. they refused to let me go home when i sobered up, insisting that i stay there with them, in their house.

i told jacque. she cried. i did not.

in fact, in the last year, i have only cried about it once.

a friend took me to see a 3-D Imax movie, something i absolutely love. i am amazed by the technology of it, and always scared but always loving it when the things fly at you. it was a documentery about space, a genre i love. tom cruise was narrating.

towards then end of the movie tom cruise over gently swelling music that invokes pride and joy, tom said "but these men and women are no different than you or i. anyone can be an astronaut."

i have no idea why, but it stuck me that i could never be an astronaut, as i am poisoned.

i cried.

i wiped the tears away quickly before the lights came up, not wanting my friend who had taken me to see me crying. but he knew me too well, and asked me about it in the car. i told him the story, and he laughed.

"that's not why you'll never be an astronaut" he said. "you'll never be an astronaut because you're uneducated and have no comprehension of science."

i laughed, and felt silly about the whole thing.

i didn't even cry when i stopped calling and seeing derek. i had tried to make our relationship survive the revelations, but it was too difficult. i couldn't ever be comfortable being physically intimate with him knowing that not only had he cheated and lied to me, but had given me a terminal illness in the process.

i didn't even cry when i listened to "RENT" again. it used to be one of the only musicals i ever liked, partially because it was topical and gritty and honest about the squalor and poverty and HIV/AIDS conditions a number of the characters live with. i used to listen to it all the time, and knew the libretto backwards and forwards. in the last year, i have only listened to it once, and found the event too weird to enjoy.

this morning i put it on again.

it was like revisiting an old friend.

the funny thing was i used to usually skip the song "one song glory" a solo the roger character sings, this morning, i found myself listening to it over and over again, connecting with it in a way i never thought i would. partially because i hear my own life sung in the words, partially because i hear johnathan larson's life sung in the words.

johnathan larson wrote RENT, and it was his dream child. the tragedy of it was he never got to see it born on stage. he died late into the night before RENT opened on broadway. but his memory lives on, and the show is a testament to his voice.
---
Mark
I don't suppose you'd like to see Maureen's
show in the lot tonight? Or come to dinner?

Roger
Zoom in on my empty wallet.

Mark
Touche. Take your AZT.
Close on Roger
His girlfriend April
Left a note saying "We've got AIDS"
Before slitting her wrists in the bathroom
I'll check up on you later. Change your mind. You have
to get out of the house.

[Roger sadly picks at his guitar]

Roger
One song
Glory
One song
Before I go
Glory
One song to leave behind

Find one song
One last refrain
Glory
From the pretty boy front man
Who wasted opportunity

One song
He had the world at his feet
Glory
In the eyes of a young girl
A young girl
Find glory
Beyond the cheap colored lights


One song
Before the sun sets
Glory - On another empty life
Time flies - Time dies
Glory - One blaze of glory
One blaze of glory - Glory
Find
Glory
In a song that rings true
Truth like a blazing fire
An eternal flame

Find
One song
A song about love
Glory
From the soul of a young man
A young man

Find
The one song
Before the virus takes hold
Glory
Like a sunset
One song
To redeem this empty life

Time flies
And then - No need to endure anymore
Time dies







.
[This message was edited Mon Oct 20 13:53:17 PDT 2003 by cborgman]

You're amazing, Chris

thank you S

big squeeze from me baby
YOU ROCK!!! never let anyone tell you different!!

prrtybby said:

thank you honey

cborgman said:

You make me smile!!! I like that in a person.

Didn't read the post edit
[This message was edited Fri Oct 17 11:30:46 PDT 2003 by Number23]

this is so beautiful chris...i can't even begin to describe how i felt reading this. thank you for sharing this with us.

i love you more and more with each passing day sweetheart

you are brave..and you are strong...you have a wonderful soul ...

my thoughts are with you more than you know..your openess and honesty here is admirable to say the least. you obviously have much courage and heart about you...and that makes you a wonderful person.

how can i say this without sounding cold...

i think each of us has a destination in life...we all have a purpose and a reason for being here...i have no idea what you have achieved in life thus far...but know one thing...

i recently took many blood tests and as you said before...you cannot trust anyone and i was very concerned about the results...i thought back to you and your strength, you ability to see the situation headon and your incredible willingness to move forward and take from life what it has to offer you.

i will never know you in real life...as i am not that fortunate...but you have touched my soul...and not many have done that my thoughts of you will always be of someone who is kind, loving, and as strong as i wish i was.

go with your life honey...and get everything you can out of it...you deserve the very best

thanks summer, kell, and deja.

Stay strong, Chris.

thanks bunny

cborgman said:

I feel terrible about the previous post, man. I didn;t read your thread. Sorry.

apology edit
[This message was edited Fri Oct 17 11:37:32 PDT 2003 by Number23]

So, Chris... wanna open up a restaruant in Santa Fe?

Number23 said:

it's okay. you didn't know.

actually, it did remind me of something i saw the other day. was walking down the street in austin and walked by a vet's office, and just stopped and stared at their sign that said "protect your outdoor cat! NEW FIV vaccine available!"

since FIV is the feline version of HIV i was amazed that cats already have a vaccine, and we don't.

Lammastide said:

::le giggle::

that is the one part of the show i never got. how in the hell is sante fe their idea of utopia?!?!?!

i have been sante fe. it sucks.

but if you want to be the collins to my angel, i would gladly move there.

christ. i never knew that...

you are a stronger man than i. my best wishes during the next 525600 minutes and every other 525600 minutes following.

thank you lleena and chemmie

Im supposed to be the hardcore heartless guy around here and you got me tearin up.

like i said, i wish you well. i will have a drink in your name tonight!

chemmie said:

i don't think you are heartless at all. thank you.

please do have a drink for me, cause this stupid cold i got means i can't. probably is better that i can't be drinking today. would just end up drunk as hell.

For U Chris my friend...

What would life be with out friends like thee
I'll tell you, like no longer being free.
Imagine what life would be so sad and blue
To go through life without that special you.
And I know we live so far away
Through the internet we are like castaways
Never get to touch or hug you for this I only pray
For some day I hope we can meet
To hug and laugh and dance to the beat
I know this would be a treat
For now this is all I see
Is my good friend here with me
Just think what life would be
Without friends like thee

summerdawn said:

Ditto.

justkelley said:

never say never honey, i would love to meet you.

i love you too.

cborgman said:[quote]

justkelley said:

you are too cool for words my love
lets do it
lets go do something totally crazy...wanna ?

we will dance all night...and drink all day...
wait...i cant dance when im that drunk...lets dance all day...and drink all night

there we go...and cause hell with everyone we see
be wild and crazy and LOUD !!!

JDINTERACTIVE said:

YOU ROCK BABY :WORSHIP:

u are truly amazing and brave -- i'm so glad that u have come into my life, and I'm sorry I don't say that more often.

justkelley said:[quote]

cborgman said:

that sounds like fun!

i have to be drunk to dance. too concious of how i look otherwise

justkelley said:

much love to JD... where did he post that?