The Dead Fags' Society (Brian's 30th Birthday ie. the end of life as he knows it :p)
It happened. Regardless of my relentless effort to avoid it, it remained unavoidable. Despite the absence of rioting on Liberty Ave, meteorites raining from the sky & blood churning within the sea…I feel the Apocalypse is near. I credulously await my world to crumble down around me.
It's my goddamn day. I am perfectly within my rights to 'queen out'. Not that I'll ever admit that or declare so aloud.
I had every intention of drinking and fucking my way through this day; or at the very least, drudge through it with my mind swimming in narcotics.
Once again, those bastards disguised as my friends, set forth to ruin said plans. Sunshine leading the helm.
I was in the middle of a fantastic dream. I was surrounded by eager young queers looking at me hungrily. They gazed upon me with awe & worship. Yes, I know it sounds not unlike another night in Babylon, but this was different. Better. Here, I was only 21 and I was set to remain that way for eternity…
I was hastily summoned from my assortment of sexy followers by the voice of death, well voices. Plural.
Apparently the Grim reaper is low on recruits, because he sent these fuckers as reinforcements.
Granted, I usually enjoy Justin positioned on top of me upon awakening; but today he was the most exasperating blonde in the universe.
Begrudgingly, I allowed them to escort me to my surprise par-funeral. A fitting place to mourn the immeasurable loss of my twenties. May they rest in peace.
To further prove my theory that either God doesn't exist, or he's an extremely cruel son of a bitch…
...this day dragged on and on and fucking on.
Climbing into that coffin seemed the natural thing to do. What's left? I've lived. Christ, I've lived hard. Both figuratively & literally. (I can't help it. I can always amuse myself with childish puns.) I've fucked, sucked or pissed off just about everyone I've ever met. Yes. I think that's enough living.
I don't exactly draw an overwhelming bout of nostalgia when I reflect upon my life. Fuck. My childhood is still something I'm trying to convince myself happened to some other poor asshole. My adulthood hasn't faired much better.
Thirty (I shudder) years of what?
I can't even get out of the Pitts. A fact so blatantly proven to me recently when I didn't get that job in New York. Christ. The Ad world is only going to be looking for inexperienced youthful shits who haven't even gotten their feet wet. Me? I'm already fully submerged, drenched. Fuck. I'm practically drowning.
Another thirty years trying to make it? Another thirty years (Face it Kinney) unhappy? Another thirty years (Face it Kinney) Alone? No thank you.
Someone kill me now. Wait. Not yet. Let me fuck first. It's always better to come before you go.
Ugh. I feel a strong shiver throughout my body. My perfectly toned body. Right? Right. Of course. Though, I'll be sure to go to the gym more often starting tomorrow. Not that I need to. I just feel I shouldn't deprive those less fortunate a chance to gawk at me. It can give them something to aspire to. Yeah, this is fine.
I am admittedly fucking relieved (No, good goddamn ecstatic) to see that my dick is still here. It remains high up & as huge as ever in it's rightful place. I'm still Brian-fucking-Kinney.
OK. Maybe I can find a way to work with this. There are no noticeable differences (unless you count the trepidation alive in my eyes) to my exterior. Yeah, I can continue to convince tricks I'm 29 for a while yet. Yes. No problem.
Let's not forget Kinney you did mange to entice a certain tight assed high schooler. I smile. You're goddamn right I did.
Justin's young and he's perfectly satisfied with us. I mean, what? No. Not that there's an "us". He still thinks I'm fucking hot. That's all that matters. That's why I let him stick around. I like having someone to amplify my ego periodically. Wow. That sounds perfectly logical.
I'm just going to push aside this annoying thought protruding it's way to the surface of my mind. This invasive fucker that's telling me that I don't particularly mind the sound of an "us." No. Stay the fuck out of my head asinine thought.
Besides, all the late greats checked out before they could let old age catch up with them. James Dean never let time strip him of his goddamn right to be young forever. Fuck time. Grey & Old? I think not.
OK. Let's give this shit another go. I can manage another year.
I'll always be young. I'll always be beautiful. I'm Brian Kinney for Fuck's sake!