Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
–Robert Frost
A friend posted a Facebook update recently about the death of a homeless man in his neighborhood who succumbed to AIDS. Meanwhile, over at The New Gay, columnist Jeremy Gloff writes that the boy he loved is homeless in San Francisco and HIV positive:
This week I was emailed again by one of his old friends and informed that he has AIDS and is still homeless. I am sitting in a silent, air conditioned, comfortable apartment as I write this. I want to break windows and scream and get in my car and drive 3,000 miles just to find him and put my arms around him. I wonder if he knows how much he was loved? How much he still is loved? Fuck. [Story]
We’ll never know how those men found themselves on their particular paths. Maybe it was fate, circumstance, or a series of choices.
The music stopped abruptly and the lights went dark. Voices murmured in disappointment and silhouettes contorted confusedly in the pale glow emanating from the bar in the back of the club.
An epicene voice boomed through the speakers, “It isn’t a blackout. It’s a make out!”
The lights remained dimmed as the music resumed.
Swaying room as the music starts
Strangers making the most of the dark
Two by two their bodies become one
Instead of Madonna, the mass was treated to the sounds of a male indie pop singer covering “Crazy for You.” Taking their cue from the DJ and the music, the silhouettes merged.
I’m crazy for you
Touch me once and you’ll know it’s true
I never wanted anyone like this
