Jump to content
Registering As A Forum User? Read This Important Message!
Help Keep AwesomeDude Online! Donate Here.

Jason Rimbaud

AD Author
 View Profile  See their activity

  • Posts

    830

  • Joined

  • Last visited

  • Days Won

    3

 Content Type 

Blog Entries posted by Jason Rimbaud

  1. Jason Rimbaud
    Moonlight Will Prevail
    Part Four
    By: Jason R.
    From the moment I walked into the church, a feeling of dread came over me. How could I pray and worship god with this horrible secret hanging over my head? At that time, I wanted so desperately to be a good little Christian boy, and wished with every fiber of my soul that I could somehow take back that dreadful deed.
    But as the service progressed and still nothing happened to me, I began to look around at the other people in the congregation. Not a single person was looking at me funny. If they noticed me at all, they smiled and waved at me. I couldn?t believe it. They didn?t know. No one knew. And that revelation rocked my senses.
    As I looked at the other children I began to notice their faces, maybe for the first time. They looked how I must have looked just three days earlier. They were staring intently at the minister as he spoke of the evils of drinking and carousing, and they were eating it up.
    Have you ever seen an eight-year-old child completely enraptured by a message of sobriety? Believe me, it?s not a pretty sight.
    As I looked at them, a wave of confusion came over me. Were they somehow better than I was? Did my evil act segregate me from the other faithful? Was that the reason I couldn?t keep my attention on the sermon or the man speaking?
    I started squirming around in my seat. Which only caused my father to smack me and command me to pay attention.
    I tried to listen, I promise I did. But I noticed a boy on the opposite side of the church a few rows back from where I sat. I had never seen him at church before. I concluded this must have been their first visit.
    Later on I found out they had just moved into town and were happy to find a church that taught like they believed. And what a good influence the church and its members would have on their son. Boy, were they wrong about that.
    He was staring at the ceiling with this bored expression on his face. I wondered why he wasn?t behaving like the other children. Did he touch himself too? Was that the reason he wasn?t paying attention to the sermon? I didn?t know the answer but something inside of me told me I had?must find out.
    The service seemed to drag on for days but finally the minister dismissed us and I told my father I had to use the restroom. But that was a lie, my eyes were on the boy as he walked out of the church to stand on the sidewalk in front of the building.
    I followed him and watched as he leaned against one of the trees. He stood there, staring up at the star filled sky seemingly lost in his own little world. I studied him for a few moments. Was he as evil as I? Could this be the one person I could relate to after my brush with carnal knowledge? I hoped so, I felt like I needed some answers and needed them fast.
    He was this fascinating blonde that had the most unusual eyes I had ever seen or have seen since. They were blue like mine but his held a light?a fire that burned with such intensity that I felt immediately drawn like a moth to a flame. I remember thinking if I was going to burn, I was more than happy to be burned by him.
    He was shorter than I was but one year older. His body, though more muscular than my slimmer build, but he still had that layer of baby fat that anyone with half a brain could see he would grow out of it.
    He was dressed in a suit, just as I was, but the way he wore it suggested he would rather be in a pair of shorts and nothing else. His tie, which would always be this way for the rest of the time I knew him, was crooked. Like he was constantly trying to rid himself of it. And his short blonde hair looked like someone had tried to comb it, but had given up half way through. I couldn?t explain it or recognize it, but it was so intense my normally shy personality flew out the window and I walked over to him and asked him his name.
    I remember the way he looked at me after I asked my question. He took a long look, up and down my body for a few seconds, saying nothing. His gaze caused me to shift uncomfortably, like he was eyeing up a horse he was interested in purchasing. I was half surprised he didn?t make me open my mouth and show him my teeth. (though I would have just to have him near me) It was a judging gaze, gauging how to react to my forwardness or maybe to see what kind of miniature Christian I was. But after a few seconds, he spoke. My name's Greg.
    I could tell he really wasn?t interested in speaking to me but that didn?t stop me from firing questions at him in rapid succession. When I?m nervous, I tend to speak constantly. You can?t shut me up and I babble about anything and everything that pops into my mind. And boy was I babbling.
    To all my stupid questions, he would reply with the minimal amount of words required without ever asking a single question of his own. He never offered information about himself, seemingly content to half ignore me. I babbled on for a few minutes until his parents walked outside. I guess he didn?t have many friends or maybe never because they seemed to be deliriously happy that he and I were speaking. If you could call what Greg and I were doing speaking together.
    His parents asked all the questions Greg should have been asking. Like my name, where I lived, who my parents were, what school I attended, and if it was any good. They kept firing questions at me until my parents walked outside. My parents, in finding out I had made a friend of a boy that attended our church, which automatically labeled Greg as a ?good boy?, quickly invited this new family over to our house for dinner.
    That is how Greg and I found ourselves alone in my room the following Saturday night. He wasn?t the best talker at first. He was shy around those he didn?t know and wasn?t one to speak very often. Though later on I couldn?t shut him up when it was just the two of us. But I?m getting ahead of the story again aren?t I.
    Considering ?our? religion was more than strict, and there weren?t that many ?safe? toys to play with back then, we had nothing to do. So we sat there on my bed, staring at one another for the longest time.
    Even with someone as patient as Greg was, he finally got bored enough to ask me in a quiet voice what I did for fun. I had found out earlier that night that his parents had only recently found this religion. He had to give up all his toys, his friends, his video games, his TV, and other assorted activities that were so foreign to me. And he wasn?t taking the change well.
    My hopes of him being like me were dashed upon hearing this. Much like a small skiff dashed on the rocks in the middle of a storm. He wasn?t sinful like me, he didn?t touch himself in bad ways late at night. He didn?t have the answers I so desperately needed. Once again a feeling of panic washed over me.
    Most of the things he talked about, with regret in his voice, I only had small clues as to what they were but I knew I envied his experience. He had played sports, football, baseball, and soccer in his last school before the ?conversion?. I felt so sorry for him. The look on his face is one I will always remember, when he confided in me in a quiet voice. I?m not allowed to play sports anymore because of this fucking religion.
  2. Jason Rimbaud
    Moonlight Will Prevail
    Part Six
    By: Jason R.
    The first time I committed a crime was all Greg?s doing. He dared me to steal a pack of cigarettes from the local gas station, the same one he stole all the booze from. I could never refuse him, no matter what he asked of me.
    He was there when I first discovered the joy of spray painting cars in the middle of the night, his idea once again. As I look back now, everything I ever did up until I was sixteen was all because of a blonde boy named, Greg.
    ?Borrowing? the neighbor?s car one Saturday night, so we could stare at the moon at the rock query outside of town was his fault too. Another time he called me chicken.
    I think he knew I idolized him, and that I was so much putty in his hands. I believe he loved that fact. Don?t get me wrong, I wasn?t some stupid kid he dared to do crazy things. I know for a fact I was the reason he breathed, the driving force that got him out of bed each day, just for the pleasure of staring into my eyes.
    Fuck, I don?t know how we fooled everyone for so long but when we finally got caught, it was a shock to the entire neighborhood as well as the entire church body. I think a part of my parents died that day. But I?m getting ahead of myself again.
    Like I said, behind closed doors, we were very different than how we appeared in public. It was exactly two months after we first met that something wonderful happened between us. I had been begging my father and he his, to allow a sleepover at my house after Friday night service.
    It?s a strong belief in ?our? religion that a child should never go to another?s house to sleep overnight. Something along the lines that no other parent can take care of your child like you, the parent, can. I don?t know how we pulled it, but whatever the reason, they all agreed and the date was set.
    I remember time passing so slowly that night after church. It felt like years before my father stated it was time to go upstairs and get into bed. It was only ten o-clock, but Greg and I ran upstairs to my bedroom.
    Since my bed was so small, it had been decided by all that Greg would sleep on the floor at the side of my bed. An arrangement I had been looking forward to though I didn?t fully understand until much later.
    My father came in to make sure we weren?t doing anything we shouldn?t be, like wrestling or eating smuggled sweets. But we greeted him with innocent smiles and he shut the door, giving us one last word of warning, urging us to go to sleep and behave ourselves.
    This was an exciting night for me. For the first time I had someone staying over. I was so keyed up and hyper I knew I would never be able to fall asleep though I was accustom to going to bed at such an early hour.
    Greg, the proverbial night owl, never went to sleep until much later. I never understood how he did it, but he would never go to sleep before 3am each night only to wake up like clockwork at 7am rearing to go for the rest of the day. He did this the entire time I knew him, and he never seemed sleepy. Matter of fact, he had this boundless energy that drove him to always look around the corner. While me on the other hand, needed at least seven hours of sleep to function at any normal level, even to this day. Anything less and I walk around in a daze, my eyes puffy and bloodshot.
    Why was I so excited Greg was staying over? First, as an only child, I had always wanted a brother. And secondly, I had heard from other kids in school how much fun they had on sleepovers. Greg wasn?t my brother, though he was the closest thing at the time, and I was ready to experience some of this fun I had been hearing about. But lastly and most importantly, by this time, I was in love with Greg and wanted any chance I could get just to be close to him.
    I was in love with him, though I didn?t truly understand what it meant back then. I knew he made me feel like no one ever had. When I was around him, life just seemed better, and I didn?t think whether or not I was making god angry or sad. Around Greg, I became a kid, a normal average everyday kid. I wanted that feeling to last forever.
    I remember hanging my head over the edge of the bed, he had placed his makeshift pallet right next to my bed, so that his head and mine were almost touching. We remained like that for hours, whispering softly to each other, laughing and talking about everything. Around eleven-thirty, I heard my father walking down the hallway and I quickly lay down on the pillow and pretended to be asleep. And thanks to my prompting, Greg followed suit and shortly afterwards my father opened the door to make sure his charges were safe and fast asleep. We must?ve fooled him because we heard him walk down the hall and enter his bedroom. We waited for the bedroom door to shut before we resumed our early positions.
    We talked for another hour in hushed whispers before Greg really began getting restless. Suddenly he sat up, his face inches from mine and asked, You ever sneak out of the house? I couldn?t believe what he was suggesting. Even with my newfound ?rebellious streak?, I had never thought about doing such a daring and risky thing.
    What, you scared of the dark? He asked, a blank look on his face.
    I told him I wasn?t, that I just had this fear of dark places in the great outdoors. And that I was greatly afraid of my parent?s wrath and the punishment I would receive if we got caught sneaking out.
    Can you guess what that bastard did? He called me a chicken. So somehow I found myself getting dressed in the darkness and opening my bedroom window. (because he had informed me that we had to sneak out through the window, that it was a rule or something like that) He told me that he had done it many times before at his house and that running around in the dark was kind of exciting. (later on I would find out this was his first time sneaking out as well, claiming I made him reckless and it was really all my fault for the things we did together) I?ll let you decide who?s telling the truth. Who are you going to believe anyway, him or me?
  3. Jason Rimbaud
    Moonlight Will Prevail
    Part Seven
    By: Jason R.
    I found myself running into the night, following my best friend. After we proceeded a safe distance from the house, we stopped running and started talking excitedly. We laughed the rest of the way to the lake, about a mile from my house. During the climb out the window, he had decided we should go swimming in the moonlight. He kept saying something about getting in touch with our inner primal beast. He was always spouting shit like that. I never knew what the hell he was talking about half the time but at least I can honestly say I was never bored around, Greg, either.
    After we reached the lake, I told him I was a bit nervous about swimming at night. What if we went out into the water and couldn?t find our way back to shore? But he laughingly pointed out, With that full moon, there isn?t a chance in hell of us getting lost. Now stop being a chicken.
    To his credit, he always had an answer for everything. I think he just went through his life bullshitting and just happened to get lucky so everything always worked out for him.
    I was stalling though, from my fear of getting caught, and swimming at night. So I brought up that fact that we didn?t have anything to swim in. So what. He admonished. It?s only us guys. We?ll just go naked. When that didn?t make me agree, he added, After all, I?ve seen myself naked and believe, I?ve got the same thing between my legs that you have. So what?s the deal?
    That was his logic and damn if it doesn?t make sense to me now but back then, I was still fighting thirteen years of repression. It was evil to be naked in front of another human being.
    So as we stood there on the edge of that lake, I was debating on whether or not I could actually go through with stripping down naked in front of him. What if my father awoke and realized we were gone? What if he came looking for us at the lake? It was bad enough to sneak out of the house, but if we were caught naked together, I would probably be killed right then and there, no questions asked.
    Greg didn?t seem to care one way or the other about getting caught. Matter of face he thought it added to the thrill of sneaking out. Though he did care about whether or not I was killed, so he told me not to worry. He would protect me like always. And though that feeling in my stomach came over me again, I was still riding the fence pretty hard. But when he said, I?m going to strip and you?re chicken if you don?t follow me. That statement was enough to make me jump off that damn fence.
    That?s how I found myself watching another boy undress under the moonlight for the first time. I was transfixed when he kicked off his shoes. I watched him bend over and take off his socks, and something I didn?t know I had inside came bursting out my mouth in the form of a ragged breath. As he bent over, my eyes were drawn to the tightness of his slacks around his lower body, causing an overload in my very active imagination. He stood upright and turned so he was facing me. A slow grin crossed his face and he began to slowly pull his shirt from his pants.
    He didn?t rip off his shirt quickly like I normally did in the safety of my room. No, not this blonde cherub, he pulled his shirt up slow, sensuous. He grabbed it from the top and slowly lifted his shirt up his torso. His pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight and I could see him take every halting breath. Slowly as the shirt moved up to where I could see the pink of his nipples, instantly becoming hard due to the chilly night air. His chest muscles moved under his smooth skin as he finally brought the shirt over his head and casually toss it to the ground atop his socks and shoes.
    I swear the entire time he looked me right in the eyes as his hands moved ever so slowly to the front of his jeans. With calmness I know I didn?t possess, he undid his belt. His eyes seemed to sparkle as he unfastened the top button of his pants. When my eyes immediately dropped to his crotch, a knowing grin broke out on his face.
    I remember sneaking looks at him in between watching him undress and he had this crooked grin on his face. Like he was having the time of his life stripping for me. Or maybe it was the time of his life making me uncomfortable. Whatever it was, I took a deep breath when I heard the unmistakable sound of a zipper being pulled down.
    This caused him to laugh out loud, shaking his head in the process. I couldn?t take my eyes off his partially exposed crotch, my body no longer under rational control. When he started pulling his pants down, one of his hands grabbed my shoulder to steady himself as he took one leg out then the other before kicking his pants over to the growing pile of clothes.
    His touch shot through me like electricity, a gasp escaped my lips. It shot through my body down to the soles of my feet then back up into my brain where it must?ve fried all intelligent thought. I swear by this time, just seeing him in his tightie-whities caused emotions to well up inside me I never knew I possessed.
    And while I struggled with my growing excitement and thoughts of making god cry, he stood there with that damn knowing smile on his face. It wasn?t a mocking smile or even a teasing smile, it was more like a smile of conquest. Like the game between us was almost over and victory was in his grasp. (later on I would find out he had been carefully orchestrating this encounter, waiting for the perfect situation to make his move) When I found this out, I wish he had done it two months earlier.
    For a heartbeat, we stared at one another, his hand still on my shoulder and that damn electricity still shooting up and down my body. Finally he spoke, Since you watched me, it?s only fair I get to watch you.
    I took a deep breath. Not only did I not have the experience, but I didn?t have the courage to return the favor he had done for me. I kicked off my shoes and pulled off my socks in one fluid motion. My shirt was over my head in two seconds flat, no slow striptease for me. If I had gone any slower, I would?ve lost my nerve and probably would?ve ended up running home like the chicken he accused me of being.
    I undid my pants and kicked them off on top of my now growing pile of clothes, right next to Greg?s. I?m not sure if he enjoyed the show but I rather doubt it. At least I know I?ve since made up for that rather sloppy strip show, several times as a matter of fact.
    Then he did something I never really understood. He grabbed my clothes and put them together with his pile. And he still had that damn smile on his face. While I, on the other hand, had one hand covering my growing ?evil thing? and the other one covering my chest. (don?t ask, I still don?t know why I did that except this was the first time anyone had seen me in nothing but my underwear besides my parents)
    I?m sure my face mirrored the emotions running through my fragile mind, I felt so out of place, uncomfortable, turned on, nervous, and maybe a bit sick. He must?ve sensed my fear because he stated softly, We?ll take them off together, at the same time.
    I breathed deeply and then nodded my head as he counted backwards from five. When he hit one, both of us pulled down our underwear. Immediately two sets of blue eyes became glued to the most private of places a boy can share with another person.
    I had been ashamed and trying to hide the fact I was erect, but once the underwear came off, I smiled at him shyly. Because much to my surprise, he was in the same state as I except he stood there proudly in his nakedness.
    I kicked off my underwear as he stepped gracefully out of his. Reaching down, he grabbed both pairs of underwear and placed them together on top of ?our? pile of clothes. (looking back now, it kind of felt like some kind of primitive marriage ceremony, something like by these piles of clothes we do wed or by the joining of these pairs of underwear I now pronounce you married) I know I?m strange, you don?t have to tell me again.
    Both of us hit the water at the same time. And for a while, we splashed around, dunking one another. You know all the childish ways you would try to make contact without seeming to make contact. But once we started to wrestle, things quickly got out of hand.
  4. Jason Rimbaud
    Moonlight Will Prevail
    Part Eight
    By: Jason R.
    After I hit the water, my erection pretty much went south fast. I believe it would be safe to say that my genitals had retreated inside my body due to the chilly water. But as we touched and grappled in the water, my genitals decided to return with a vengeance, and from the look in Greg?s eyes, so did his.
    He had gotten behind me and was trying to force my head underwater when I realized I felt something poking me in the lower back. I can honestly tell you that sensation sent chills down my spine. The more I struggled, the harder he poked. It wasn?t long before all pretence of wrestling stopped and we just enjoyed this new experience.
    He grabbed hold of my shoulders and turned me around so we were facing one another. Our bodies smacked together as he pulled me closer to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and pull him just as tightly into me. Staring into his eyes, I began to grind myself into him, time stood still in that moment. One of his hands reached behind me and started caressing my lower back, stopping just inches from my backside.
    As we touched each other, our eyes were locked in a frozen moment there in the moonlight. And I saw something in those beautiful eyes I?m still searching for to this day to duplicate. Unconditional love and an unwavering devotion backed by all the youthful lust he possessed.
    It was nothing short of magical. All my shyness and all my fear vanished in that single moment. I pressed my lips to his and we shared the first of many kisses. But none could ever compare to that first kiss in the moonlight. It wasn?t a shy kiss, a timid peck or a kiss fill with uncertainty. It was full of passion, a kiss loaded with certainty and the belief that this was right on every level despite what others might say. It was a kiss that transcended all barriers of religion, all thoughts of normal male behavior. All inhibitions of right or wrong were thrown to the wind and flew up to the moonlight that bathed us.
    Can a kiss mean so much? Maybe if you don?t believe you haven?t found the right person or maybe I?m a hopeless romantic that refuses to live in reality. I don?t know anything about that but I do know that I became complete in that one kiss. And if it doesn?t happen to everyone then I count myself lucky and fortunate to have it happen to me even if it was all in my head.
    The kiss could?ve lasted for years and we never would?ve known the difference. But we found ourselves kneeling down on the edge of that lake. Water dripped down our bodies, the shimmer of the droplets a plethora of moonbeams on our skin. Facing one another, we continued that magical kiss, our hands explored every inch of skin. And when his hand found me, I shuddered.
    From his continued touching, I started to convulse and one of the most powerful orgasms I?ve ever had exploded out of my body, leaving me breathless and filled with wonder. Once I regained some control and after my body slowed to only slight tremors, I returned the favor as best as I could. It wasn?t long before his eyes rolled back into his head and he thrust into my hand one final time. Groaning louder than I could ever imagine, he collapsed into my shoulder. And we knelt there, holding each other under the light of the moon.
    I?ll never forget that first time of exploration under the moonlight. I eventually lost my virginity a year after that first encounter. I was lucky my first time was with someone I truly loved. And when I took his virginity, we shared something special that so many people lose out on.
    Greg and I became so much more that night we went swimming in the moonlight. I guess I would define him as my soul mate, the other half of my incomplete soul. That day he came into my life, I found my way, my North star that always pointed me in the right direction. It was something we shared and enjoyed together until his untimely death at the age of seventeen.
  5. Jason Rimbaud
    Moonlight Will Prevail
    Part Nine
    By: Jason R.
    It was shortly after I ?borrowed? the neighbor?s car. I had stayed at Greg?s house that night, not an uncommon occurrence as our parents had long given up on trying to keep us apart. Though they did try towards the end. Maybe they suspected our friendship, maybe they could see the special bond we shared, maybe we weren?t good at hiding it as we thought. Either way, it was a night I?ll never forget.
    His room was in the basement of their house. We had proper pictures on the wall of landscapes and animals, but on the back of those innocent pictures were pictures of guys we thought were hot. When we were in the room with the door locked, we?d turn them around so we could look at them. We had a bunch of things that glowed under the cheesy black lights we had stolen from the local mall. It was our domain, the place we went to be in love. The only place that was safe for us to be ourselves.
    I remember that night so strangely. It?s all perfectly clear but I remember it happening so slowly, like a movie playing fourteen speeds too slow. Greg had been telling me about his plans for us for the millionth time. How when he turned eighteen, he would get an apartment right down the street from my house so I could sneak over and join him during the night until I turned eighteen the following year. Then we would go off to college together and never look back on the hell of our childhood. It didn?t matter which college we attended, as long as we were together and free to be the couple in public we had always been in private.
    I asked him what he wanted to do with the rest of his life after hell and his reply is still burned in my brain like the afterglow of staring into the sun. I want to live my life without fear. I never want to be afraid to seize the day. I want to live life with a passion that will take me to the moon.
    That night we fucked, hot and animalistic. We both loved to fuck and I loved fucking Greg. I wish I could say we made soft passionate love where we voiced our undying love for one another, but I can?t. We fucked like two horny teenagers, hot and sweaty. I clawed his back and he bit my tongue so hard that little piece on the underneath took over two weeks to heal.
    Around three-thirty in the morning, we finally drifted off to sleep. I lay on my back and Greg put his head on my shoulder. We fell asleep clutching tightly to one another. It was our favorite position for sleeping. At that moment and for the rest of the night, we felt like we were one body, just like our souls were joined in a perfect love.
    When Greg was sleepy, his voice got this raspy rough sound that drove me crazy. And the last thing I ever heard him say was whispered to me in this sexy voice. He leaned close and said in my ear, I can?t believe I get to hold you in my arms every night. Ever since that first night in the moonlight, I?ve been the luckiest boy in the world.
    I kissed the top of his blonde head and called him a goof ball. I was never really comfortable saying what I felt inside but I knew he knew how I felt about him. He could see it in my eyes every time I looked at him and in the tiny ways I showed him every day.
    I slept great that night, just like always when I slept with Greg. I woke up around 11am that morning and instantly knew something was wrong. I felt it in my soul, like my heart had turned cold. Greg had his arm draped over me as he lay there tightly against my back. But his arm was cold, I could feel the chill emanating from his body pressing against mine.
    I don?t remember when I realized he had died sometime in the night but I do remember screaming my soul out. All my pain, all my dreams, all my love, I screamed out until there was nothing left inside me.
    My screams brought his parents crashing through the locked door, where they found us naked in the bed. I was holding on to Greg?s lifeless body.
    It took one EMT and two policemen to pull me away from Greg?s side. In the end, three of my ribs were broke before I released the grip I had on him. The rest of the day is a blur.
    Sometime between the time they found me and when they pulled me away from him, someone had called my parents. I remember they walked over to me as I sat on Greg?s floor, still naked, staring at the bed where so many times we had made love. Where so many times we had confessed our love for each other. Where so many times we sat there, laughing and basking in the joy of just being close to one another. Where so many times we made plans to leave hell and begin our life together. A life we should?ve had from the beginning.
    That?s the day my parents kicked me out of their house and out of their lives. The day I became forever cut out of the family. And yet none of that mattered to me, only Greg mattered. My moonlight. I remember Greg?s parents picking me up and carrying me outside where they dumped me on the sidewalk, still naked. Because they couldn?t bare the idea of having a filthy queer inside their house.
    I don?t know who called him, but my Uncle Malcolm came and picked me up. He took me home with him where he wrapped me up in a warm fuzzy blanket and just held me until I couldn?t cry anymore.
    I remember showing up at the funeral and seeing that my parents hadn?t bothered to show their support. But I heard they made sure everyone in the church knew about their queer son and that Greg was my queer lover. Even going as far as telling Greg?s parents that the reason Greg had died was because he was queer.
    Greg?s parents wouldn?t look at me and sometimes I think they only showed up because they had too. It was sad, hardly anyone showed up to pay last respects for the most beautiful person that only wanted to love. My Uncle sat there beside me, supporting me in something he didn?t?couldn?t understand. But he was there.
    Five students from our High School showed up, I recognized one of them. I figured Greg must?ve known them casually from one of his classes. Because we spent all of our time together and I never had seen them before. I suspect they showed up for the excused day from school than out of any other emotion.
    That was it, my lover, my best friend, my true north, had less than a dozen people at his funeral. And I was the only one that knew him. And I was the only one that loved him.
  6. Jason Rimbaud

    Happy 420

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    I know wishing everyone a Happy 4-20 day on 4-22 is a bit trite, but for some reason I totally forgot to post this on 4-20 day itself. I know there should be a reason for forgetting, but for the life of me I can't remember.
    HAPPY 4-20 Everyone
    Jason R.
  7. Jason Rimbaud

    Drop

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    Drop
    written by Justin F.
    I touch the tongue to see
    A devil's face in front of me
    You blow your nose and cry
    The clown demands a sad good-bye
    A sad good-bye
    Black below the tree
    White horses dead in front of me
    A scar below the cheek
    There's a sweaty man in a bloody sink
    It's just a trip not a way to ease your pain
    Self-help...Tell another shrink the same damn thing
    Stay cool, everything is going to be okay
    Until you decide to drop again
    A blue jean girl to be
    Sweaty man is behind the trees
    The flip side of sanity is the game
    Fourteen million miles away from sane
    A dark man in the restroom window pane
    Whose words just pour out human pain
    It's just a trip not away to ease your pain
    Self-help...Tell another shrink the same damn thing
    Stay cool, everything is going to be okay
    Until you decide to drop again
    Until you decide to drop again
    Now, I'm so high, so high
  9. Jason Rimbaud

    IDTIWLPAM

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    IDTIWLPAM
    I was pretty much depressed about the events of my Sunday night dinner with Daniel. I don't want to get into it right now because that's not the reason I'm posting tonight. But I was pretty depressed and didn't want to spend all day Monday thinking about it so I figured I might catch a movie on Monday.
    So after looking up the Movies on Yahoo, I found three movies I really wanted to see. And since I couldn't decide between the three, and I don't know of a three sided coin to let fate decide, I choose to watch all three.
    I'd first catch the 11:30 AM showing of The Bourne Ultimatum, great movie by the way. What a way to end the trilogy, great job. Afterward, I would catch the 2:30 PM showing of the last Pirate of the Caribbean movie. Kind of boring about two hours too long, but it did have its moments. Like about half-way through the movie, this guy that was sitting a few seats over from me, suddenly let out a scream and a moment later his cell phone landed in my lap. The only thing I could think of, he must've been holding his cellphone against his face, and when he received a phone call, the vibration scared the hell out of him. I handed the cell phone back to him, and watched out of the corner of my eye as he searched the seats and floor on the other side. He kept this up for a good five minutes before he found what he was looking for, his glasses that were in the other hand and that he sent flying along with his cell phone.
    That event caused my depression to disappear so after Pirate Movie was over, I went home and had a relaxing day. I never did make it to the Simpson's Movie. But as funny as I know it's going to be, it might not be able to live up to that dumbass scaring himself so bad that he threw his glasses and cellphone in opposite directions in a dark theater.
  10. Jason Rimbaud
    I subscribe to Yahoo Music, for those of you that don't know what this is, you pay a monthly fee and you get access to over two million songs without having to buy the album. And you can play them whenever you want with Yahoo Music Jukebox. And the best thing, since you are a subscriber, you don't have to stream them online but actually download the song to your computer. As long as you pay the monthly fee, you can play the songs whenever you want even if you aren't connected to the internet.
    So today, I was browsing the new music on Yahoo Music and saw the name Sixx AM. I've been hearing things that the bassist of Motley Crue, Nikki Sixx, was putting out an album to go along with his new book entitled The Heroin Diaries. This is a book taken directly from his journals from Christmas of 86 to Christmas of 87, and chronicles a year in the life of a heroin addict. I heard Nikki on Love Line last Sunday night and I can't wait to read this book.
    Now I'm not a fan of Motley Crue, I've always thought their music and lyrics were too juvenile for my tastes. I like my music to be a bit more in depth than sex drugs and rock and roll.
    So I was more than a bit hestitant when I saw a band called Sixx AM. But since the name of the album was the Heroin Diaries Soundtrack, and from listening to Nikki on Love Line, my curiosity was peaked so I checked out the album, expecting to hear some bad knock off of Motley Crue.
    And Holy Shit, this album blew me away and left me feeling violated. From the opening track, X-Mas In Hell, I knew this was no bad knock-off of a Motley Crue album. This was Nikki's soul laid bare, an honest look into the mind of junkie. And I wanted more.
    The music is heavy, loud and in your face on some songs, yet on other tracks, there are strings, piano, and soft acoustic guitars that enhance the listening experience without losing integrity or speed. And the lyrics, wow, Nikki takes you on a journey that is one part horror, one part depression, one part suicidal, and one part...HOPE.
    I've yet figured out who is the lead singer for Sixx AM, I do know it's not Nikki, but whoever is singing, his voice is filled with power and raw emotion when needed yet is soft and filled with passion on the darker, more introspective songs. And throughout the album and some of the songs, Nikki speaks, in what I'm assuming is excerpts from the Heroin Diaries themselves, in a matter of fact tone of voice that is quite haunting and unapologetic at the same time.
    This is by far, the best rock album I've heard in years. It's raw, powerful, and definitely in your face rock and roll that forces you along for the ride and makes you examine your life as if you were living these songs along with Nikki. I also know that most people won't find this album accessible, the themes and music will be enough to turn certain people away. But if you like your music with a little more depth than the average pop rock on the radio today, check out this album by Sixx AM called The Heroin Diaries Soundtrack, you won't be disappointed.
  11. Jason Rimbaud

    Something for Jason

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    I've heard that you have taken offense by this blog and the entries it contains. Never think for one moment that just because I no longer live in Pennsylvania doesn't mean I still don't stay in touch with my friends. Unlike you, I don't forget about my friends. I don't walk away from my friends every time I get into a relationship.
    Did you think she wouldn't tell me about the conversation between the two of you? Did you forget that she was my friend first? Did you think I forget about her because I moved away over two years ago?
    My fragile friend, I talk to Ann every few days, which is more than I can say about you. Whenever you call her its for a favor or you need her help for something. You live twenty minutes away and I know I've seen her more recently than you. That's my Jason, always the leave me alone until I need you kind of friend.
    So your angry with me. And yet your anger is without logic or rational thought. Truly no reason you can imagine that could back up your claims of broken promises and rose colored lies. I didn't break my promise to you, I haven't told anyone about you or about us.
    I write under an assumed last name and never even mentioned yours. I did write all about Jason Squared but in all honesty, you can't think that your friends would ever read this blog on this site. Not your self-righteous little pew warmers that populate your life now, they would never be caught dead on a gay site.
    Though if you look at the statistics, one male in every ten is gay. Maybe one of your Republican friends is reading this blog, but on the bright side, they'd never have the balls to confront you about anything they'd read inside these pages. That would lead to way to many questions about why they were browsing on Awesome Dude.
    So you can't be angry with me for relaying stories about Jason Squared. So why are you angry?
    Your anger confuses me I must admit. After all you are the one who went searching online for ME. You are the one who found MY poem at Awesome Dude. You are the one who found MY blog. You are the one who started reading it. And your angry with me,WHY?
    You twisted little closet dweller, how dare you try and put this back on me. This blog has never been about you, you egocentric little fuck. I write this blog for me, to help me understand why I put up with your shit for as long as I did. I write to better understand myself.
    Your angry because you found yourself in these entries. And your angry because you didn't like what you read. Does it bring up too many memories? Does it force you to remember the time you spent with me? It's kind of hard to deny that part of yourself when you read it in black and white, isn't it?
    You claimed that I am telling lies about you, altering the events to make you look like the villain in this little play. Well, I read back all the entries that include you and I must say, I don't see any lies. But then I haven't been lying to myself for years either.
    So I say if I've been telling tales, why don't you log in and set the story straight. You should be good at "straight", you've been pretending to be it for years. Come on Jason, grow a pair of balls and reply to this post. I know you're reading it. I'll approve any comment you have the guts to make. I don't live in fear of what others say because unlike you, I actually know who the fuck I am.
    And before I wrote this to you, I called you. But like the scared little rabbit you always were, you didn't answer my call. So if you don't have the balls to talk to me over the phone, register here at Awesome Dude. I'm here, you could be here, lets talk.
    Jason R.
  12. Jason Rimbaud

    Hey Jealousy

    By Jason Rimbaud,

    Hey Jealousy!
    Do you think it might be all right, if I could just crash here tonight?
    The green monster...
    Crack doesn't kill...gun's doesn't kill...bullets doesn't even kill...it's jealousy
    Jason
    Oh nuts
  13. Jason Rimbaud
    I’m back...and this blog entry is sponsored by “wingtip shoes” and candy apple cigarettes.
    I could look this up but I’m a bit too much on the lazy side to figure out how long it’s been since I last posted a blog entry. But I’m sure it’s so long ago that even my one loyal reader has given up on checking my outdated blog and has disappeared into the ether.
    Unfortunately I am regulated to posting to those that have no idea who I am or realize the sheer boredom the next few minutes will bring them as they read this blog entry called Bottom(less) Tales in Vegas 2016. So let me be the first to apologize to all of you for wasting your time.
    But I am a gentleman so just to avoid all the confusion, let me tell you who I use to be a long time ago, twenty-pounds smaller, and a few thousand hair follicles ago. I was a rather prolific poet, blogger, and part-time storyteller known as Jason Rimbaud.
    That was a long time ago when I was still messed up on pills, alcohol and a straight boy named Mark. Do you remember now?
    Just in case you were wondering, I have put all three of those things firmly in my rear-view view. And if I were to be honest, the main reason I stopped blogging all those years ago , I really didn’t have much drama in my life and what little drama I had was a bit on the boring side to share with my loyal reader.
    Trust me, no one wants to read anything remotely about me getting up to work, working all day, going home and sleeping only to rise and repeat. That should be the title of my life, Rise and Repeat (trademark pending). Literally nothing was going on in my life.
    Okay, so judging from the title of this blog post, I’m sure a few of you are expecting something interesting happened to me one blistering hot day in Las Vegas.
    I met a boy. Not really a boy, more like an amazing wonderful guy that from here on out, I will call “G” to preserve his identity. “G” is an Indian, his family comes from Goa but he was born here in San Francisco.
    Lets go back to the beginning, a perfect place to start for this fuzzy bunny slippers kind of a tale.
    I am currently sitting at the Luxor Casino in the quaint little dessert town of Nevada known as “Sin City”. This town is aptly named because I definitely found some sin in that city. Well, two sins to be precise.
    It has been just over a year since I broke up with “G”. Matter of fact, almost in the exact spot I was when I first realized that we were no longer an “us”.
    Have you ever been in a relationship and one day you wake up and realize that what you think was perfect was actually flawed and nowhere near the vicinity of perfect?
    “G” and I were together for well over two years and I must say, it was the most adult relationship I have had to date. It’s been long enough that I can look back and see it for what it was…perfect for me and just average for him.
    Before you go and think we had epic battles and tears were shed and bodily fluids were shared with other partners, you would be wrong. In the weeks before the break-up, we went about our daily lives in a comfortable routine. A routine that I guess worked for me but left him wanting something else. I don’t believe there was another boy that took him away. I believed he came to the same conclusion I did on that fateful day in Vegas, but he came to that much sooner than I.
    I went to Vegas in March, last year, after a long stretch of long hours and missed days off. I had been texting him off and on all day, sharing with him my wins and my losses, when I started getting the sinking feeling that something was extremely wrong
    Have you had the moment via text, when you can feel the mood shift? That’s what I felt from him that day. I could almost feel he was just replying back to me because we were together and not because he really was enjoying talking to me.
    We always had the most fun together, we enjoyed each other and spent most of our time laughing and joking and referencing all the inside jokes we had developed. Our texts were playful and flirty and were seldom one word replies. But that day, the replies were coming slower and slower and the words became fewer and fewer. I remember vividly sitting there at the slot machine, staring at the screen and then down to my phone, and the sudden clarity moment when I knew we were over. Matter of fact, six days later, we would be over and my life would be forever changed.
    I’ll be honest, mainly because he will never read this and partly because I have always been honest in these blog posts, I was lucky to have him in my life for as long as I did. “G” is a great guy and though I believe I am over him, I still think about him often and wonder how he’s doing.
    I am currently, as I type this, sitting at the Luxor Casino in a bar called Aura trying to get my head around the events that happened just a few minutes ago. I’m exhausted, and not in I need to pass out for twelve hours kind of way, but more like a contented exhaustion.
    I awoke this morning and decided I needed to clear my head and work out the memories that have been haunting me for a year. While it had been a year since “G” and I broke up, I had yet to throw my ass into the dating world.
    I might have been a bit too glib earlier when I acted like it was a mutual thing. It was the saddest break-up of my life. And that hurt, for a long time, and I was devastated. I couldn’t even as much look at another penis without a crippling feeling of loss.
    Don’t get me wrong, I joined Jacked and Grindr but no one I met even came close to “G” nor did I really feel like getting someone else fluids anywhere near me. But that was then, and this is very much right now.
    This morning I woke up and felt a horniness that I haven’t felt in a long time. So intense was this mental erection, I jumped on a plane and headed to my favorite vacation destination. And I did it right. I flew first class, I booked a two bedroom suite that came with a hot tub in front of the window so I could look out on the Vegas strip while soaking naked.
    So here I was, freshly mended heart, looking out across the dessert in one of the greatest cities in the world and I needed human contact. It was so overwhelming, I knew it was an itch only a guy could feel. What was a boy to do? Damn right! I opened Grindr.
    Twenty minutes later I’m sitting at the very bar I’m sitting now, chatting up this guy from Wisconsin. One drink after that, we were back in my room.
    He was a bit younger than me, late thirties, tall and rail thin. His name was Adam. A fitting name I thought as I was about to be partaking of the forbidden fruit for the first time in a year.
    I believe Adam was married and only played with men on his business outing. But he was horned up and for some reason, I was the reason.
    He kissed like a straight man. So like a true reformed slut, I put a condom on his peen and sat down.
    When I first met “G”, he was in a tragic relationship with a guy I really believe broke his heart. So much so, I don’t think there was ever a chance for us to work. He was coming off a relationship he thought was going to last forever, there was a ring and everything. Moving into my little world of craziness, he never really had the time to heal from that.
    I’m not the most emotional guy in the world and with just a hint of clarity in my pretty bald head, we were probably doomed from the start. But fuck me did I try, more than I ever tried before. At least I know when I do meet the right guy, I will have no trouble diving head first and doubling down.
    Adam had a great body, smooth and a perfect sized penis. You know the kind I mean, not so big that you can’t fit it in anywhere but not so small that makes you looked down and go “no thanks”.
    Looking out over the Vegas strip, pressed up against the window, I realized that was something I had been missing for a long time. As I gazed out at the twinkling lights of Mandalay Bay, I actually let out a sigh.
    I won’t describe the sex I had with “G”, that is for me and I won’t cheapen the memory by sharing it with you. But he was little, and I’m not talking about his down there parts, that was as close to perfect as you could get, but it had been a while since I was with someone that could really manhandle me around. I was so horned up and ready for Adam to stop kissing me, I didn’t even use lube, I just pushed back and took the pain. One, two, three, maybe five thrusts and he collapses against my back, shaking. As we kind of stood there, his weird breath on my back, silent for a moment before I said, “That was disappointing.”
    Think about it, it had been over a year since I had any action and fifteen seconds into it, right when it just started to feel amazing, he finishes with a grunt.
    I’m not sure what he was expecting nor the look that must have crossed his face when I said that. All I know is I felt him tense up, and he pushed off me and started walking over to his clothes. The condom dropped to the floor and without a word, he got dressed and left the room.
    I was still standing by the window, still excited and wondering what the fuck just happened and what the fuck was I going to do now.
    I could have taken it in hand as it were, but now I was like a man possessed. When you’ve gone a year without sex, fifteen seconds is nowhere near long enough to come close to satisfying me. No hand job in a poorly lit movie theatre, no wink wink nudge nudge, not even boom goes the dynamite. I needed dick, and for longer than fifteen seconds.
    I stood there kind of confused, all my blood still pooling far away from my bald head, when I heard that magic sound every Grindr user recognizes.
    I opened the APP, and the first thing I see is a bare stomach, two brown nipples winking at me, no face but that wasn’t what sent my stomach doing back flips.
    “G” was probably the first guy I ever took without a condom. And I can remember that first time we did it, like we were connected in ways that all homophobes will never understand. I don’t want to get too graphic, but fuck me, it’s an amazing feeling.
    Remember, it has been a year since I bottomed for anyone. An entire year, needless to say, it was a really tight fit. So maybe I can’t blame Adam for shooting so quick…maybe!
    So I open Grindr, and under ethnicity, I see Native American, Navaho to be precise. He was hot, 6 foot tall, runner build, amazing smile and let’s not even mention the glasses, because fuck I do like my men in glasses.
    What was a guy to do? I had never been with a Native American, the excitement was there, and that need to be fulfilled was still there, pounding in my brain. I told him my room number and promptly jumped into the shower to wash off Adam’s stink. After all it has been only ten minutes since Adam was all up in my business.
    I really hoped that Sonni, yes his name is Sonni, couldn’t tell that I just had someone else ten minutes earlier, but I really didn’t care. I was definitely seeing red at this point.
    Sonni was completely opposite of Adam. He was shy, so much so I also wondered how much experience he had with guys. That fear was quickly put to rest at the expert way he handled certain parts of my anatomy. But I am getting ahead of myself.
    While Sonni and I were chatting by the window, he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to have sex, he was a bit more interested in oral pleasure at first. But luckily for me, he took one look at my willingness and threw those plans out of the window.
    We made out for a while, doing a little bit of this and some dirty that, and I get another condom and in no time I am ready to go. He was bigger than Adam, one of the biggest I have been with on that end of things. But I was up for the challenge and slowly sat down.
    One, two, three, eight and wammo, his toes curl and he lets out a whimper and I’m back right where I started. Horned up and still not properly topped.
    The first time “G” topped me, the same thing happened. It was over long before it really began and after these two guys tonight, I am starting to believe I just might have a magic ass. Which might be quite difficult to accomplish at forty-one years old?
    But I am sitting here in this bar, a bit sore back there, but content that I was still attractive enough that two different guys in a matter of an hour, shot off because of the sensations I caused them. And for those of you that say that isn’t me as much as it has to do with them, don’t rain on my parade. I needed a confidence booster.
    The real difference between Adam and Sonni, Sonni isn’t leaving until Friday, that’s three days away. Who knows, maybe I can get him in my bed again for round one and half.
    I think I would take “G” back if he would offer. I still love him. But I also know that we grew apart in ways that neither of us can recover the distance. And just because my track record is being the king of looking back and diving headfirst into past boyfriends and all that tangled shit over and over again doesn’t mean I have to wash rinse and repeat. I miss “G” in certain moments, the fun we had, the times we shared, and all the moments that we created as an “us”.
    But then, for the first time in years, I was with two different guys in a matter of an hour. And yes I understand what that might make me, but after a year I think I deserved a bit of safe fun. Me and my magic ass deserve it. I’ve been in town seven hours and I already used up all my towels. What will the maid think of me when she cleans my room tomorrow?
    As usual, I’ve rambled on for too long to disclose the remainder of my Bottom(less) Tales in Vegas or the time when Sonni came to San Francisco and we spent nine amazing hours in bed for his birthday. But those tales are for another time and some other when.
  14. Jason Rimbaud
    Not sure if anyone knows, I'm sure no one cares, but I go to Las Vegas frequently. And yes I do gamble a bit, but the main reason I go is for the food and the shows. I love magic shows and have seen every show in vegas that has any magic whatsoever. Penn & Teller is one of my favorites and I have seen them over twenty times. Especially since their show Fool Us, as they add new material almost every show. Plus I listen to Penn's Sunday School Podcast which always makes me laugh.
    Earlier this year, I found out that Criss Angel is leaving the Luxor Casino after ten years. He's moving to Planet Hollywood where he first started with his 2005 TV show and rise to fame. Apparently its a whole new show, so I'm assuming all the music will be different.  Here is a song that he plays during some fun close up coin magic in his showl For some reason, I love this song.
  15. Jason Rimbaud
    Starring Jason Momoa as Arthur/Aquaman, Amber Heard as Mera, Willem Dafoe as Vulko, Patrick Wilson as King Orm/Ocean Master, Nicole Kidman as Atlanna, and Yahya Abdul-Mateen II as Manta. It was directed by the wonderfully talented James Wan, the creator of the Saw Franchise.
    Aquaman takes place shortly after the events of Justice League. This bit of information seemed to be slipped in right away to make sure we all know this is part of the DCEU. But just as Wonder Woman carved her own path away from the sadness that was Man Of Steel, Batman V Superman, and Justice League with a story that focused on plot supported by CGI, Aquaman at its core, is a character driven film that made me care about the characters and their journey.
    Aquaman lives somewhere between the dark vision of Zack Snyder and the playfulness of Patty Jenkins, taking elements from both while carving a visually stunning film. I would venture a guess that the script was heavily rewritten multiple times attempting to course correct after the tepid reception of the Znyderverse and the sheer fun factor of Wonder Woman. The downside to what I am assuming is heavy rewrites, leaves us with a film that doesn’t seem to know what its suppose to be sometimes from moment to moment.
    Is it a light-hearted underwater tale with horrible dad jokes or a morality tale of sons paying for the sins of their fathers? As I type this, I still can’t tell you what this movie is about.
    In one of the darker moments of the film, Arthur takes out a bunch of pirates as they try to steal a submarine. While this sequence is visually stunning and really showcases the raw power Arthur can command, Arthur allows the father of one of the pirates to drown, thus creating one of the major villains in Aquaman’s cannon.
    This act really shocked me, as it was hard for me to believe that considering Arthur’s own mother was killed when he was young, that he could dismiss the pleas of a son to save his drowning father so flippantly.
    This sequence reminded me how I felt while watching Black Panther last year. Like Killmonger, Manta has a great back-story and a reason for revenge that makes his story arc believable and compelling.
    And in almost the next scene, Arthur and his father are in a bar drinking beer for breakfast when several scary biker looking guys approach them. This scene is played for suspense at first, when one of the guys barks out, ‘are you him’. Arthur turns around and for a moment, you think it’s about to go down. Then the scary biker looking guy exclaims out like an excited child that he wants a picture of Aquaman. This is like five minutes after Arthur kills numerous pirates on the submarine. And to make it a bit worse, there is a collage of Arthur drinking beer and taking photos with the scary bikers.
    The transitions between the dark and light moments happens so fast it was rather jarring at times. Yet Amber Heard was delightful as Mera, and has one of the coolest powers in the movie. Mera is far from being a damsel in distress. Not only does she stand toe to toe with Aquaman, but manages to save him numerous times and is a complete badass in her own right. Amber’s performance is well-rounded as I’ve seen in a long time. Plus, she’s a great strong female character for young teens.
    Orm makes a great villain and is almost underplayed by the talented Patrick Wilson. Though his motivation flips between his hatred towards Arthur whom he blames for the death of his mother and his hatred for the surface dwellers that has polluted the worlds oceans. I did find it a bit odd that his hatred for Arthur seemed misplaced as it would make more sense to hate his father who ordered the death of his mother.
    Take away the over the head message of the dangers of pollution, the jumps between light-hearted dad jokes, and brooding craziness, the core of the film is entertaining and I would recommend you watch it as the CGI is breathtaking.  

PayPal

Help Keep

AwesomeDude Online

Scan to donate

QR code
×
×
  • Create New...