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The Invisible Lifestyle.

Who Am I ?

It is a question I often ask myself. I am a man.
I am a human being. Someone's son. Someone's brother,
cousin and nephew.

I a man who has suffered a lot.
I've seen friends die. I saw my favorite
pet die. I lost the first girl I ever loved
when I left my beloved island of Haiti.

I remember her well.
She was the most beautiful gal
in the city. I loved her. Her name was
Saindya. She was beautiful and classy,
I was young and inexperienced.

She chose my best friend Manny over me.
I was hurting for awhile. But I survived.

I liked a few girls after that, but never as much as
I did her. She was my first love. When I was a boy
of thirteen.

Now, I am somewhat older and wiser.

I have seen the world. I have traveled continents.

I have known people, and loved, and fought.

I became a very different person. Smart. Reserved.
A bit distant at times. A mystery to those around me.
I puzzled women...and men. I was tall, big and handsome.
And I loved no one.

Many have been drawn to me.

A sistah named Gabrielle my freshman year of high school.
An older man named Miguel. A young white girl named Kathy.
I knew those people. I did not allow myself to be touched by anyone.

Women have been a mystery to men since the dawn of time.

I am no Player. I am no Poet. Yet it is simple. There is no mystery
to women or men. No logic. Men and women are what they have always
been : creatures of Impulse. They can hide their feelings. Or act on their passions. They can love and hate. They are both capable of treachery and deceit. They can dupe a loved one, cheat and become heartbreakers.

Some guys say they would do anything to understand women. I tell them that should they ever manage to do that, the spice of Life would be gone from their existence. They would live in a boring universe. Perfect understanding breeds perfect predictability. And perfect boredom.

I have heard women say they do not understand men. Men claim to be simple and to have simple needs. So do women. Sheesh. Enough to give me a headache. I dont understand people. yet i understand them all. Upon meeting a man or woman, I tell myself that the individual before me is not what he or she appears, at least not exactly. I expect secrecy. I expect hidden truths, forbidden desires and needs. Secrets and shame as well as a potential for greatness that remains untapped throughout most of the person's existence.

In the past, I have questioned my sexuality. An odd thing for an 18-year old Virgin Boy (I was born on Feb 5. 1985) to do.

I read E. Lynn Harris ( A black author who writes about the sexual lives of bisexual black men) and Anne Rice (She does for vampires what Harris did for
bisexual people) and finally Fred Saberhagen (he does for the Book of the Gods certain wonders of Literature).

I see a lot in this world. I have high hopes. I see them dashed. I see unfairness and inequality. Yet I must say that a perfect world is a scary thought. An unimaginable boredom awaits anyone who lives in a perfect world.

Sometimes, I walk around in this beautiful city of Boston.

I see a lot of people. Men and women. I wonder about their lives. I
classify them as satyrs and nymphs. I love them. Their busy little lives. What they see, and do, and feel.

I love the Diversity I see around me. My only wish is that perhaps I should have a mate by my side to share it with. I find myself crusading
through the years. Looking for adventure, romance and love. Instead I find an exciting world that many want to make boring. I get asked why I do not date.

I know how to approach a girl, talk and acquire information and get on a date with her. I do not give women or men that much value. Not based on their looks anyway. So, yes, rejection does not scare me. I am a fighter. I do not want tot get married though my parents have mentioned it.

A lot of girls have shown an interest in me over the years. And more than a few of the boys.

Yet I remain unmoved. No one can love without limits. Or restraint.

Currently, two people haunt my dreams.

The first is Ervamoira.

Picture this : 5'4. Short black hair. Slender body. Olive skin. Chestnut eyes. I met her at school once. She looked normal. She was cute. Not enough to make half the boys turn around but she was cute to me.

I'll tell you what happened one day with her. I was going to a certain job interview. I wore a blue shirt, black pants. I had a tie around my neck but I was not sure if i knew how to tie a tie. I walked into the Student Gathering Place to see if i could spot one of my buddies. I heard some commotion.

Guess what I saw ?

Ervamoira was fighting some guy. Apparently, he was a macho type who grabbed her *** and she hit him. He fell and she jumped on him like a rabid wolverine. The macho guy's girlfriend came to the rescue and Ervamoira hit her as well. So, the guy and his girl were getting their butts kicked by the slim girl known as Ervamoira. Someone called security. No one dared approach her. Erva was down, beating the **** out of them.

I did.

I said : " Erva, what are you doing ?" She turned at the sound of my voice. She got up. She had been kneeling, beating her male and female victim to submission when i came in. She got up, her eyes brightened when she saw me. She smiled. she said : "Hey, man. what's up ?" I glared at her with wide eyes. She came to me, smiled and neatly tied my tie around my neck and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "There, " she said. "You're ready to go."

Security came and took her away. She winked at me. Everyone watched, shocked.

I was awed. what a woman ! I remember thinking I wanted to kiss her, then marry her. Marry her then kiss her. Take her home to meet my mother. Have her committed to an institution, whichever came first.

I discovered I loved Erva that day.

The second person to haunt my dreams is Sean.

A cocky, arrogant paramilitary paranoid *******. 5'9. brown hair. blue eyes. cocky grin. egotistical smirk. He is a complete *******. he hassles women. He hassles men. He harasses people. He is all at once a tough guy, a rebel and a *******. He is very handsome and knows it.

The whole school talks about his sexcapades with a hot girl named Jenna. She is a total babe. Guys want to do her. Girls want to be her. I hated Sean's guts. I was jealous. He could have anyone he wanted. I was a lonely frustrated intellectual virgin boy going to a small college in the big city. I had never been with anyone. sean bragged about the number of girls he had sex with. I was ****ed. I asked him if he ever loved anyone. He looked me in the eye and said he loved someone he could never have. Someone he yearned for. He told me he enjoyed sex with girls but wanted to be loved by that special person he could not have. I was curious. who could resist Sean ? He was a handsome daredevil athlete. He had money and popularity.

he smiled and said : " I love you, kiddo." He walked away, leaving me standing there. That ******* !

So, here I am.

In love with two psychos. One male and one female. I want to be with both of them. Yet I know no man may have all that he wants. I know I cannot be with either of them. I think I like Ervamoira better.

I am what I am.

Haitian. And Male. Tall, big and strong. An Intellectual. A virgin. And a Bisexual.

I hope to get a lover soon. Like my hero, Achilles (of the Greek Mythology, he was a hero of the Trojan War and a well known bisexual at the time. He loved the slave girl Briseis but still had a relationship with his best friend Patrokles) I plan to have both satyrs and nymphs.

But there are those who would kill me for being what I am.

Gay people hate bisexuals and don't trust them. Straight people hate bisexuals as well. Bisexual women are popular in the Media. They are shown all the time on the web. I like them a lot. But I am not a woman. I am a man. Tough, masculine and not really different from everyone else.

Bisexual men are unwanted by society. Yet a lot of macho guys are bi.
Their wives or girlfriends cannot stand the thought of it. So a bi man must do his business on the side. I am in the downlow. I currently identify as straight because most of the time (95 %) I am into women. Hot ones.

I hope one day I will be able to be open about who and what I am.

But If i have to choose one side and stick to it, it's the ladies all the way.

I am what I am. I am Haitian. I am religious. I am bisexual. Guess what ? I dont act girly. I hate going to the mall. I dont like effeminate males. I look and act like a man. It's not an act. I am really like this. I am not that good with fashion either. Most of my friends are guys. My best friend is a guy.

Right now, no one knows my business. And I am still a virgin. With Sean gone, I'll pursue Ervamoira.

Surprise ? Hope so.


4 : 23 PM Boston, MA.
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Report 16 years ago
so where did you steal it this time. It is very touching though and if you do have problems i would be willing to help.
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Report 16 years ago
i can't believe this has already been googlecached, after only 5 minutes

(i was trying to see where he gets it from, and the only link was this)

actually the only link was this.

has he finally run out of material and is repeating (sorry, copypasting) the same stuff?
Matt the cat
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Report 16 years ago
your special mate, well done
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Report 16 years ago
(Original post by Wolfman117)
The Invisible Lifestyle.

Who Am I ?

It is a question I often ask myself. I am a man.
I am a human being. Someone's son. Someone's brother,
cousin and nephew.
There are people you can talk to if you crave attention that badly.
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