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dankthefrankits-blog · 2 years ago

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I remember seeing you play the keys on that piano down on Franklin Street. Its sides were rusted and the lower and upper octave keys were missing, yet the melody you produced made it feel new. The hairs on your fingers gleamed as they stroked the keys closest to middle C. The moonlight and streetlights never made you look more beautiful than at this moment. Your hair is slicked back and your beard blends in with the darkness of the pavement. I remember when your eyes met mine as I hadn't realized I'd been staring in awe as you performed your sentimental tune. You turned your head an inch more to wink for a second and continued playing for a minute more. I couldn't leave after seeing that sparkle in your brown eyes--I knew I wanted to see you some more. Once you finished your tune, you stood up--a mighty presence with the broadest shoulders I'd ever seen on a man. You approached me at the corner of Franklin Street and stood only two inches away. I felt my face burning, my legs shaking, my stomach numbing.

"Thanks for sticking around." You whispered in a low voice with a slight chuckle thereafter.

"You sounded incredible!" I replied, trying desperately not to choke on simple compliments.

"That piano did. I was only guiding its-- melody." I noticed your eyes look away at the stop sign across the street. Your cheeks blushed and your right leg bounced, matching the beat of my heart at that very moment.

"I'm surprised it could even still make a sound! It looks like it's been through so much, haha..." I felt my regularly-scheduled anxiety attack coming but I placed all my weight on the concrete corner. I noticed you pulled out a crumpled sheet of paper and grabbed a pen from one of your coat's inner pockets. You scribbled some numbers on it and gestured to show you my right hand. "I'd love for you to listen some more if you'd like." You backed away slowly and stood slightly hunched over this time as you watched me unravel the paper you placed in my hand. I took a metaphorical deep breath and said: "I'd love that. Thank you."

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dankthefrankits-blog · 3 years ago

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An Iconic Streamer

So I was streaming yesterday and started playing Smash Bros (which looked HORRIBLE on stream). Instead of prolonging the suffering of my non-existent viewers, I decided to play off stream and came across a public arena. I joined it and noticed there was a twitch.tv name at the top. I expected to come across a self-proclaimed alpha male sitting in the dark and calling people playing out but as I reluctantly entered the stream, I was met by a very charismatic, clearly queer, and fun streamer named Franz. Playing in his arena was fun and even though I won one out of 10 games, I still enjoyed my time there.

As someone longing to find more friends in the community, I'm glad I didn't have to really go out of my way to do so.

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dankthefrankits-blog · 3 years ago

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Being gay.

"Gay" is a word I have a hard time saying, writing, seeing, or thinking about. It is a word with lots of negative connotations. Your local school bully has probably called someone "gay" out of spite here and there. Your religious parents might say "gay" is sinful and has no place in the house. Your society might say "gay" is wrong and should not be recognized in the slightest bit.

So when I call myself "gay," why do I always feel my neck shudder, my heart constrict, my head in agony? Oh, wait... It doesn't take a lot to figure out why it's been so damn hard to call myself "gay." These fucked-up ideas stemming from everyone and everything around me all live inside me--a metaphorical parasite, if you will. And saying you're "gay" to another group of "gays" doesn't help your case either. You still have to worry about your local bully shaming you for your skin and body type. You still have your chosen family thinking you're not being "gay" the right way. You still have a society telling you that you are not worthy of their or anyone's love.

So how the fuck do I accept my "gayness?" My queerness? My identity?

Let's start off by getting rid of these fucking quotation marks: ""

And let's transition to a lovely exercise...

I'm gay. I'm gay. I'm gay. I'm gay. I'm gay. I'm gay. I'm bi (ha, just kidding), I'm gay. I'm gay. I'm gay as FUCK.

And just to make sure I've covered all my bases:

I like dick.

I like balls.

I like ass.

I like everything manly.

Did I choose to be gay? Fuck no, who does that? But I am loving it so far.

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dankthefrankits-blog · 3 years ago

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APS 2022

Hello y'all! Long time no see XD

Let's see if I remember how to do this Tumblr thing...

I am currently at the 2022 APS Convention in Chicago, IL and I just heard the most empowering speech from Bryan Stevenson, a lawyer who wants to change the narrative of American politics with respect to black and brown communities. He had great conviction when speaking and his anecdotes have been engraved on my heart. Just a few years ago I was pitifully hopeless when it came to almost everything about me. Part of my hopelessness was influenced by how America treated Hispanic/Latinx folks like myself. We are seen as lesser than and pernicious to others even though our capacity for intelligence and compassion has always been present. I am very lucky to say I have rarely experienced direct racism from individuals whom I've met in person but I can see through the microaggressions and the doubt they portray through their body language, or the many occurrences they interrupt me before finish speaking. This all may or may not be related to my racial/ethnic identity but the implications of the current status quo enable these destructive thoughts to flourish in my own head and I'm sure in many other young black and brown individuals.

The work I plan to do will always focus on addressing the disparities that exist in America and around the world. I have found my calling in research, particularly in the area of public health, and I am ecstatic to explore a realm of health science with the ultimate goal of changing the narrative.

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dankthefrankits-blog · 5 years ago

Conversation

rex and zer

Rex: So...um...did you finish the game?

Zer: Yeah, yeah, bro; I finished that crap like weeks ago.

Rex: Bro, you're at 48 percent progress. You didn't finish it.

Zer: I thought you said I'd be finished after fighting the red goblin dude, or whatever.

Rex: Yeah, though after you fought him for the fifth time.

Zer: What kind of game makes you fight a boss more than once to finish it?

Toby Fox: ...duh duh deh da duh duh duh dah dah dah

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dankthefrankits-blog · 5 years ago

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his honor

His cheeks were rose-tinted and his eyes were just magnificent. He had a laugh so contagious, even strangers seemed to hide a smile whenever I told him jokes. Summer went by so quickly, but each day with him made me feel secure and safe and loved. It’s a shame that something so meaningful could cease to exist after only a couple months, though I will always remember his tender lips whispering into my ear, “sooooo, ice cream?” I couldn’t help but jokingly scoff and he would just start smiling and chuckling every time. Hand in hand, we would walk down the avenue and as we got home, his shoulder became my temporary napping spot. We would sit on the couch for hours with the TV playing the latest telenovela on Telemundo. Everyday, at around 8 on the dot, he would start playing with my hair and caress my cheek. That was his way of telling me to go to our room so that we could both prepare for the next day. His breaths were heavy, yet tranquil in some sort of juxtaposed way; I hated how loud they were yet loved how slowly he exhaled. Even in his sleep, he enticed me so much.

But then summer ended and it was his time to depart. His beard was calling so that meant she had returned from Cancun. She too was beautiful, with long locks of wavy brunette hair caressing her shoulders and eyes that matched his. He looked me in the eyes and told me he would miss me, though I replied, “c’mon man, you do this all the time haha. I’ll see ya next year.” His eyes began to tear, the first and only time I had seen him cry. He nodded and embraced me for a good minute and then headed off to the airport.

So Adam’s gone, and yet Adam is still around, just not the same Adam I know. The Adam I know is the kind, handsome, redhead who always wanted to eat ice cream for lunch and would always guilt-trip me into going to Haagen-Dazs for. The Adam that is still around is still handsome and a redhead, though people like me would literally die if they tried to seduce him or even just stare. Not because he kept my feelings in mind or anything corny like that; He hated gays and everyone associated with them...he would beat the shit out of them in a heartbeat.

The Adam I know will be here next year...but he doesn’t have to be. In some sense, I guess I change too whenever he leaves and comes. I despise him when he’s not around though I can’t help but lay next to him on the park grass every time the sun sets.

Am I insane for doing so? Sure. Is he a monster? Yeah, I’ll admit. I guess in some weird sense, monsters and the insane are one in the same. Ok? ok.

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