Nov 29 6:43am

Told myself I was gonna go to bed but I have stuff I gotta purge. But first I'll proceed with the tedious drivel that is my life. So after I stopped feeling sorry for myself I met a friend of mine on chat and we had a pretty good time. She's new to the net but is WAY too much fun. We went in as the evil twins Zsa Zsa and Gabor. Naturally I was Zsa Zsa and I was definitely the pretty one  or so   that's what I claimed. We did the usual things that you do when you're losing your mind... THAT of course being that we harassed and stalked everyone in the room. But don't get me wrong the sadists ate it up. It got to the point that anyone new coming into the room got pounced on by around 15 raving queens. And yeah it was a blast, but talk about creating a bunch of monsters. Reminded me of total mob mentality happening.

Actually made me think of lady Diana's funeral and how people got so distressed that it became so much larger than life. It got to the point that people humiliated themselves in an attempt to show their grieve. Everyone buying into a media blitz is something that has always freaked me out. Can we say "SHEEP?". I'm gonna disclaim that yes I believed that Diana was amazing and it was a great loss on a global level. But basically I never sent any flowers...

So back to the chat room mob...

This group of lunatics that we created were so out of control that they became downright cruel,  and any snap queen can tell you there is a fine line between reading someone and abusing them. What was worse is that people started to whisper stuff to me like "Zsa Zsa, watch this I'm gonna slam so and so, or I'm gonna pick on so and so". By this point I was feeling pretty removed from this group that I had, up until this point, been addressing as "my people".

Some poor kid came in who must have  been no older than 15 and they started riding him and riding him hard, these two guys in particular. And the kid was getting really upset, understandably. So to really cut it down here I lured him to another room for private chat... and spent the first twenty minutes just getting him back to a good mind space. Then the next twenty minutes talking about what an amazing band Hanson was. I figured I owed him the Hanson conversation, consider it my penance for indirectly causing his grief to begin with. And I know I'm reading WAY too much into this .... but ya know what? ... that felt pretty good actually. I changed my name back to my real name and told him how Gabor and I were just playing with people and that everyone knew that I was really a guy, etc. Gave him my email and he PROMISED to send me all his Hanson URLs.... UGH!!!! What I won't endure for the sake of others. And I hate to tell you this now, but the story isn't over yet.

It got me to thinking about a friend of mine named Mike, and I had the urge to turn the computer back on so I could chronicle his story. Maybe its because of the age or maybe the element of vulnerability, but anyway this kid reminded me of Mike.

When I met Mike he was a total bar slag, I figured he was underage but I never knew for sure. I used to let him crash at my house after the clubs, cause it seemed that wherever it was he had to go was not the best. I assumed he had a home. I soon found  out that he was indeed homeless and was turning tricks on the boy stroll. He'd then use that money to buy a room at the bath house, not a pretty cycle at all. So one night after the bar I took him out for breakfast and told him that he could move in with me, but on the condition that he made a definite effort to get his life together. He'd owe me nothing and wasn't expected to pay, but the agreement was that he stay off the stroll.

Eventually he tells me that he's not 18 as he'd been telling everyone but 14. Even showed me his ID so I'd believe him, because frankly I thought he was full of  shit. So this solves half the dilemma because I now realize that he falls under Child Protection Services. And since his family would have nothing to do with him it was in a way easier to get him into "the system". I get him in touch with the right program and they find him a nice family to "board" with and problem solved right? nooooooooo....

We told his case worker that he was indeed gay etc and therefore that would have to be a consideration when placing him. Naturally she agreed that was definitely a priority, and stupid me, I believed her. She placed him in an extremely right wing Christian household, she was also Christian, as a means of helping him deal with his sexuality. He runs away and we don't hear another word for two years.

I'm downtown one day and I see an old acquaintance. We get to talking and he tells me that "its too bad about Mike dontcha think?". I find out that after leaving he'd moved to one of the larger cities (name of city not relevant) and was once again working the strolls and bath-houses. He got infected with HIV and addicted to Heroin. His funeral had been less than a month earlier.

I don't feel responsible. But I do still light candles for him. And every now and again I see a glimpse of  him, and it makes me wonder what his life could have been.

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