Aztec Yhessin

March 1998

It's the small things, I've noticed, that a person forgets as they get older. Small little pleasures, like riding a bike all over before you throw it away when you get your drivers' license, the way ice cream tastes on a summer day right after you've been running through sprinklers, and that moment of awe, wonder, and excitement as you find out what you exactly got for Christmas by looking in closet, where you weren't supposed to be.

I've been missing those things, and it's hard for me to get those little charms back, since, I'm not sure how. Maybe it's just the age that I'm at, being a teenager, though being propelled into being an adult, something that scares me, but intrigues me all at once. I just wish that this past Christmas, that I could have felt at least half of the excitement when I received my RCA 27" Color TV, as I did when I received my brand new HE-MAN training bike, when I was 4, 14 years ago.

I would like to share an experience that I had just Friday, today being Monday, February 11, but after that I must really go. Recently, my life is falling into an extremely busy mess, and I have many things to do.

Let me start with this...


Last issue, I presented my sister, who I will now refer to as 24. I had a bit of an interesting experience this past Friday, which I will share with all of you, and maybe I can get some feedback.

I am a writer; articles, rants, short stories, scripts, poetry, and although I've been advised to start a novel, never have. I'm an independent filmmaker; long nights, serious expenses, total stress; I love it.

It was quarter after 7, and I had just finished an interesting screenplay which I had spent three weeks on, and the first thing that I did was spell check, and print four copies out. I'm shooting the film this summer, as a 18-minute short, with a couple of friends of mine who are experienced in film as well. So, the four copies were intended for the planned Cinematographer, the planned Assistant Director, myself, and my mom. They had all been waiting for the script.

I left the script with mother, wrapped in a nice white envelope, and continued my journey of Friday night, meeting some friends at a local coffee shop, and finding something to do from there. The end was pizza and talk at my house, which commenced around 10.

Three copies remained, one being in the possession of the planned Cinematographer, who I planned to deliver it to at the coffee shop, and now two friends and myself were talking and ranting about the past summer, eating pizza, while the planned Assistant Director sat on a sofa near by, and cried over the script.

Friend 2 wanted a script to take home with her to read, Friend 1 didn't really care, she'd read it at some point, A.D. sat and cried when she finished, boasting that it had been the best thing I'd ever written, not letting go of her copy, whereas the other copies were: 1. In the possession of my nice big RED revision binder that I carry with me everywhere, and 2. In the possession of my mother.

Mother I went to see, up the stairs and into the den, and standing there speaking about what so had thought about it. She wanted to discuss it later, since she found she couldn't get into a serious 'discussion about it' with friends there, and I agreed.

In steps 24, asking "Discuss what?"

"You're brother's script."


24 stepped away, obviously on her way to go out dancing with friends at a local theme bar, though returned in a moment, hesitating to say something.

May I remind you that I'm only out to my mother, friends, and the various people involved in the community's only activism group.

"Are there gay people in it?"

I stood dumbfounded. My mother laughed, and I hesitated to answer, trying to understand where the hell this came from. I didn't feel like dealing with this shit tonight.

"Actually, yeah."

24 stepped away for another moment, came back, but hesitated again. My mother was staring at the television, trying to not take part.

"I don't want to offend you -- but -- are you gay?"

"I'm bisexual."

BAM! My, that was a Kodak moment. The expression drawn on 24's face was pure panic. She looked at my mother quickly, shaking her head in regret for asking,

"Did you know about this?"

My mother wouldn't answer. She began laughing. 24 began leaving again, repeating that she 'really didn't want to know that,' and walked out the door. I grabbed the script, which was sitting beside my mother, and began downstairs to join my friends again.

24 followed me, coming back through the door. I was in the basement at the time, already, but she persisted another question.

"I have lots of gay friends, and I'm okay with it. Are you gay?"

"No. You said you didn't want to know."

"Are you bisexual?"

"No. You said you didn't want to know."


She left again. My two friends (one had left previous, the planned A.D.) began laughing hysterically, along with me, who never stopped.

It hasn't been mentioned again. Funny how a sibling can hang out with gay friends, go dancing with them, and be completely okay with it, referring to the fact that they're 'safe' guys. Though, when their brother might possible be a queer, they buckle and freak.

(There was more to this article, but I deleted it accidentally, so I had to rewrite it all, which is the reason for the time and length restraint. Be back next month.)

Aztec Yhessin, is a pseudonym for this bisexual eighteen-year-old Midwestern farm-boy-who loves the city, Tori Amos, Liz Phair, and anything MYST or NARNIA related. He believes that habitual narcotic use is very unhealthy, and that if the human race all stayed living in trees, we'd all be a lot better off. He'd like to hear from you, he's interested in your opinion, and he can be reached at, aztecyhessin@usa.net. ICQ# 6321498, homepage http://www.geocities.com/WestHollywood/Village/6929.

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