Happy Easter Bunny...I Mean Honey!

It's so good to finally hear from you, buddy...I was about to send out a search party!
I know you're almost thirty now, doing the final year of your Saturn Return journey, but I also know you're far too level headed to succumb to the forces of the cosmos ie. plunge into psychosis or an altered state of consciousness. Never mind if you do; we've all been there, man, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Nevertheless, I hope this blog finds you safe and sound in the arms of a well endowed snowman, my friend..it must be pretty chilly in Deutschland huh?
By the way, I appreciated it immensely, but you didn't have to write a critical analysis of my novel extract; I simply wanted to introduce you to some of the kooky characters who inhabit my seriously deranged mind; I hope you found them just as endearing as I do?
I haven't paid a visit to their crazy world for quite some time, but I have been doing plenty of other writing - posting profanities to our readers here and scribbling my name and number on the back of dunny doors across this city, hoping to bust my three year chastity wide open...yeehah!
That's if I can heal this damn fungal infection that's overtaking my asshole as we speak! I'm writhing in fits of itchy madness right this minute, pal. I'm stripping down layer by layer to get my finger nails into all those difficult places. Can you imagine trying to type a coherent post to this site while scratching your ass? I'd be tearing my hair out if I wasn't busy tearing out my asshole, man! I'm sorry to lay this on you, but it's the glamorous reality of living with HIV/AIDS, buddy; my anal health will never be the same. Every time I walk into a thrift store, that old tune ‘Burning Ring of Fire' seems to perk up on the radio. Let me tell you, it's spooky man! I just hope the doctor gets to the bottom of this infection before I score a date.
Life in Melbourne's fairly chilled out otherwise; I mean that literally. After a relentless heatwave, we've plunged into Autumnal weather with pelting rain and overcast skies. I'm through with cooking in the nude, Lars. I've started wearing beanies and socks to cover the sensitive areas but I'm still topless and bottomless underneath that apron!
I should send you a photo, man! Better still, next time you grace our shores, you and Maddy are cordially invited to a nude dinner party at my house. It is the age of terrorism, of course, so I might have to perform a cavity search before you step in the door.
I can't believe I'm actually missing Summer. My days at the beach are over and I aint feeling sexy no more. In fact, these overcast skies are making me damn miserable. I'd be on the phone to suicide help line if there wasn't an episode of 'So, you think you can dance' tonight. By the way, a fella named Russ replied to my reply to his personal ad but I accidentally hung up on him so maybe it just wasn't meant to be huh. Apparently half his tank of goldfish passed away the day before so it was a bad omen anyway, don't you think? Unfortunately, my libido has gone into hiding along with the sunshine and the speedos; maybe you can talk dirty to me some time, pal? Your extensive vocabulary and well pronounced verbs get my thighs quivering!
I had a fabulous massage from an absolute pervert on Easter Monday. He didn't take his eyes off my crotch for the entire introductory meeting. He told me that all gay men should have a best friend in Berlin because that's the only city in the world where you can get a decent fisting session; then he proceded to ask if he could go to work on my buttocks. He had strong hands and fantastic maneuvers but I couldn't help feeling a little vulnerable. Thankfully, there was no penetration, pal, so my ass is still in one piece! Unfortunately he didn't offer a 'happy ending’ after getting me all worked up but it's not good for the immune system to spill ones' seed too randomly according to the Chinese.
So what else has been happening since I returned to this Victorian state, dare you ask? Well, the Easter bunny was none too generous but I eat far too much chocolate anyhow. HIV weakens your gums as it is, so the last thing I need is all that sugar. Besides, I'm still having nightmares about the nasty ol' bunny rabbit from that film, Donnie Darko. He was one scary mother fucker, man! Hot cross buns are my favourite Easter treat; especially when they're toasted just right with lashings of butter...yummy, buddy!
On a serious note, I had a message on my answering service from my ex boyfriend who's laid up in a Sydney AIDS ward. He sounds like a geriatric or a ghost; he was so exhausted he could barely speak his name. It's a crying shame because he was a real looker in his day and a charming, creative dynamo as well. He hasn't called back but there's not a lot I can say; I can't wave a magic wand and make us all better. It's hard to have sympathy when the nerves in my skin are so itchy and burning I can barely dress myself in the morning. Most of the time
there's no hard feelings but there's not much to say either. All I can do is think of him in my prayers and send him my love.
No one deserves this illness but no one can save anyone else; one day they'll prove those damn yanks wreaked havoc with a nasty vaccine or cooked up this germ warfare as part of their find a cure – get rich quick scam. Until then, we're just a bunch of lepers contaminated with a bug that apparently jumped species and favoured us faggots and junkies, can you believe that shit? I got one serious wart hanging off my lip to testify to this global conspiracy; I got the skin rashes, the pins and needles and the hairy leukoplakia in my mouth. Not to mention my daily dose of anti retroviral agents; Abacavir, Lamivudine and Pyremethamine each morning and Reyataz, Indinavir and Tenofovir each night. Don't ask me what they do because I don't know and my doctor don't have the foggiest either. He's taking directions from some protocol in an AID$ industry journal and I'm the poor sucker who's the guinea pig in this epidemic of lies.
I hope I live long enough to see the lid blown off this multi billion dollar scandal. I hope my face don't cave in and my belly don't swell up like a bloated seal like so many other guys I see at the HIV centre. I hope I don't spend the rest of my days swallowing pills and living on welfare in public housing; receiving brochures in the mail from the AIDS council; those guys who make eighty grand a year spreading safe sex messages to educate gay men how to protect themselves from our contaminated semen – all in the name of breaking down fear and prejudice and improving the quality of life for us queers in quarantine!

Love you, Buddy X