The Gay World is dangerous, and we live in dangerous territory.
Excuse me!? While your ass is always getting a “family check-up” plan as a kid, my family did homemade surgery when someone got hurt.
Oh, your ankle got broke and you went to get a cast? Nope, not in this fucking house. You fucking walk that shit out. You fucking join the Marines with a fucking broken ankle and run that training course, meanwhile those little fucking weak ass kids who gets dental health care every other month who “broke their ankle” after falling on the sidewalk has to go to the doctor and walk on crutches for a few fucking weeks to feel better.
Like you’re having a baby right now? Well, fuck it. Give birth in this house then, we have like 3 other people who has experience delivering babies in their lifetime.
Like yo. Can you kill a fucking cow and cut it all up in 15 minutes and serve it up for steak for a party? Nah son. You need to go to a grocery store to buy those mini packets, can’t do that shit on yourself. Get fucking scared as shit when you see us cutting a pigs throat with our homemade knives to make BQQ ribs out of it.
Nah son. Eat your beef raw, and can’t even handle our homemade liquor.
I don’t know how to start the story…
It was late one beautiful night. The same way I met everyone, at the bungalows of Hawaii, at the beach house of Springtime. Everyone was there, we danced, we partied, we sang and we all fell in love.
But there was just you and me, in the middle floor of the house, looking outside to the beach. We both smile, talked about our lives, and dreamed a dream.
Then you went to Australia, and I went back home. We kept in close contact ever since. Every summer, we’d just be together, and every winter, we’d go travel somewhere in the world to be together. You sang me love songs, spoiled me with kisses and promises of more love songs to come, so long as I was yours.
Then I guess, somewhere and somejow, I did fall in love with you.
But then the mistrust came. A handsome guy like you, after all these years we’ve longed for each other, you never went for it. You never asked me to be yours. It was stupid of me to really to think that I was that special. There was so many guys after you, and me? I was just a nobody and you made me felt like I was someone special. Like I belonged somewhere.
So, I packed my bags. I remember how I ended the story. I packed up my bags, left you at the hotel, and never looked back again.
But when I do turn around, just to see if you would stop me, I’d only come to see you, still smiling without me.
Tsǔ-kì or “Wǔshù" in Mandarin.
It means martial arts, fighting skills, swordplay.