Comments:
vino~lovly, dizzy, crazy genius... well talk to me, babe... goddess will provide... do you have tap's address, any one else, bruce lee? humpy hubby, lucky birch... come down and gimme a hug! nicco

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Maybe I'm not talented. Maybe I'm just the dinah Shore of the 'sixties. The square people think I'm too hip and the hip people think I'm too square. And nobody likes my choice of men - everybody thinks I'm _______ the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. -cher

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Can't read some of the words because of the white characters behind the light colored words. But balance is my point, so, I only got through a part of it. Very cool, steps of growth. I love it! Is there such a thing as love? Hehehe only in poetry. C nnections that's the key. Write back of I lost you. You've got the addresss.

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send me yr pic. hope yr travels are going well ken

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Hey Dominic........Just visiting your page again. Had to read some of the writings again. I enjoy them so much. :-) Hurry back to the desert!!

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my main impression is that you want to really bad but you don't know what. i still love you even though you may never be any good. (i don't know. am i going to be a good eli? is good even a good word?)

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There are times when I find such shallowness in your depth. Times when I find such brevity in your rantings. Times when I doubt your level of commitment. All these times tell me you are human after all, and I am worthy to be your friend. I am sorry fo what I put you through last time, but not feeling guilty. When your body became that of a man, and your mind became one, what was that unity like? Will I ever experience that? Will the disequalibrium of my schizophrenic Gemini existence ever be resolv d? Stay tuned, dear one. I may disgust you, but I am rarely boring.

Comments:
There are times when I find such shallowness in your depth. Times when I find such brevity in your rantings. Times when I doubt your level of commitment. All these times tell me you are human after all, and I am worthy to be your friend. I am sorry fo what I put you through last time, but not feeling guilty. When your body became that of a man, and your mind became one, what was that unity like? Will I ever experience that? Will the disequalibrium of my schizophrenic Gemini existence ever be resolv d? Stay tuned, dear one. I may disgust you, but I am rarely boring.

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No longer just bearing or barely holding it in, but streaming out all around, lushly filling the air. I have found a way to make my whole being to resonate with the sound that ushers forth from these lips and the ending is I am sound and air and fire with body intact and clear as silent water of Jungfrau cirque where we danced together naked, bathing, shi ering with glee, throwing off our skins to behold our dreams which grow with moon-pearls every hour to echo back into our opaque reality and give us liscence to be what we know we would never allow. We will no doubt falter much in these infinite hours, but the sun will prove its bright rays shining from my heart, showering down upon you, glittering all golden on your skin, mouth agape, throat enthralled to meet the sound of an eternal fall up to the eaven of my lunatic calls in steadily flowering songs of duty and despair and kindness and care and we will find the Elysian fields soon enough or settle for a café in Paris where life is the great masterpiece for which we have toiled and your tapestry mi ht be woven in only the most brilliant colours, gently woven, gently woven into the unknowable bliss of living with the art of the way - and your masterpiece hanging there on the wall of Wallhall, mein schloss tief in dem Rhein, where I may be greeted dai y to study it's threads and touch the admirable craft, to wrap myself in it and laugh at the folly of our sorrows. "Es Weiss und räth es doch keiner, wie mir so woll ist, so woll!" and "Silence is the most perfect herald of joy, for I would be but little happy if I could say... etc." You see... don't say it.... do it, be it, and love the other - not dictum, but present psyche, eternal spirit. Just as we love the silver sphere from which we drink our nighly delight, so do we find a heart for the great quixotic adventure, from which we shall never return, to love you with enough of my graceless heart that songs can become the great work of art toward which our lives must inevtiably ascend though this journey is without end and waiting for the next move... Check!

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dominic, hello. bil.

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Get in touch with me.

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If
The world were just
And nature were dyslexic
I would be young
You would be old
In your black coat
And hover over me
Like a master over his dog
And put your cock
In my hand
And shoot.

Comments:
I like your work, overall, especially your self-photos. I'd like to see more of them. Do the world a favor and don't wait until you're 49 to get over whatever is preventing you from posting your nudes. it's geocities >h The long writing that is linked to "the list" is intimidating in it's length. I will read it, eventually, perhaps a bit at a time. I'm looking forward to seeing more from you, and of you.

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Is there truly a comment that I can give that would give the true appreciation of this page of enlightenment? You have searched and found what truly is inside you. But, never let that stop you from ending the stuggle of finding it within the contious spectrum of that of which we call life.

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To: de_nada@geocities.com
Subject: Comments
Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit


You seem like a nice young man who is seriously screwed up.  I can only
assume that drugs may have played a large part in your life.  I
sincerely hope that you seek the help you so obviously need.  Remember,
there are many gay people out there.  You are far from alone.

 - 02/08/98 22:34:22

My Email:tony@globalserve.net
who are you?: Tony

what do you want?: friendship

and why are you trying to get it from us?: Why not?

talk about the page: it has piqued my interest.






 - 02/05/98 05:58:34

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Tom - 01/31/98 01:12:53

My URL:http://geocities.datacellar.net/WestHollywood/Heights/3320

My Email:email
who are you?: your friend

what do you want?: just stopped by to say howdy!!

and why are you trying to get it from us?: hope your not freezing






Ryan - 01/25/98 01:46:26

My URL:It's never like there ever was a place to page for home.

My Email:kawish@iquest.net
who are you?: the king of mirrors and other opaque glass

what do you want?: to let the light shine through me

and why are you trying to get it from us?: maybe its time... baybe there isn't enough time... maybe it wont be long now, surely it wont be long - be me...

talk about the page: lets all share our candy, my fellow captives on this (virtual) slaveship to the NEW WORLD...

talk about the passion: like a tick with too little tock... a throb like filled with blood the pulsing beats swell my tiny body

i can use all input: go futher, press on, go beyond the wrath of others who know so much but don't know you.... but don't forget that he can't forget and goes on in your image like christ in his vision of what god could be if only people would see 
t his way...  I hope I'm not as wrong as him.

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If we go up, where shall we go?
If we press froward the rocks will trap our souls
Strained between coral teeth, we like seaweed shifting back and forth in the tide.

Does it need to read like this?  Can't it be complete without the voice saying, I hear?  really, do you?  are you hearing?  are you hearing my song?  are you hearing these naked throats taking patience and love and dying a thousand deaths for his care.  H
 is the one who wins every fight and this is the one who has stopped playing that game, but would gladly call it a draw if only he knew how to draw a far away land where lovers weep TOGETHER for the joy of hot wet tears and laugh to hear their sounds ming
e.  Two lovers for whom ice is a joy for the opportunity to warm eachother.  Two devils fighting hellfire and hammering away on hard brimstone... forge an alter for sacrifices to your favorite pagan god.  Yours may be different, at least you know why.  Mo
t of them don't.  he didn't.  him the one that makes me be me me me me thus.  At least you know why you like what you taste, and maybe even what you see.  Do you like what you see?  Do you see?  See? See?  Sea?  Sea and foam and white caps of snow on moun
ains and blue cirques of naked cool pleasure.  Free, divulging our hearts' bodies' desires and splashing out a tune.  Do you hear it?  The sea my lover Bosie and you, you, you, my lover mister's mistress wishing you know you know what I wish, don't you? D
 you?  Do you? Do you? Do you want to see again like we once thought we could see, through eyes which are not swollen shut with disease and infirmaty and cried-out rage.  I see forever eachother, free from the logic-monster.  Free from captive eyes to cap
ivate each moment in a snowflake like never melting forever telling him what I feel with songs from other worlds of joy.  Is he all he is and what he should be, complete as he is made from his own volition, skill, and desire.  Yes, but then he is complete
 so complete as to have unquenchable lust for perfection... This is one who wants to save the world.  This is one who wants to conquer it, and I have had enough of him, but would gladly take his hardness in my hand again for old times (when I was what I w
s meant to be me) sake... Be me, please.  Let me be you, would you?  Would you let me be what I want to be for a moment, you?  Would you give me you to be you what I want if only for a moment?  That is the one who, SO WHAT IF HE WANTS TO SAVE THE WORLD!? 
so I don't want to save the world - just want to love him... just want to love HIM.  Just want to enjoy sin, validated by the other, though I'm like a new born babe with a dark stroke.  It could go on... would you like it to go on?  Do you want to go on..
 why do you leave, you whose savior ambitions appeal and heal and kill and damn and love like you 'aint never been loved before, baby.  Behave, babe, new born babe... too young to woo with wine, too old to take on some troll under an unpicturesque bridge.
 He is Picaresque.  He is not Picturesque.  He is the picture of perfection with all his faults in tact, and not just because I believe in you, but because I'm willing not to as well.  Then it's not fair to save the world, when it doesn't need or want to 
e saved.  Isn't it enough to love, like I do, like I would given half a chance, who would refuse him that?!  His omnipotence would reach the four corners of the physical world, and his soul would be warmed by real hot coco, but even though he's supposed t
, like everyone else, he just doesn't care for the marshmellows.  He'd rather just have the liquid like he'd rather have the care and the share and the lover to wear like a pair of some kick-ass boxers that fit in all the right places.  It could go on... 
o you want it to go on?  do you want to go on?  we can go on... You want to go on with me?  you want to want again?  you want to want?  you want me?  you want to want me?  I've wanted, but I won't tell you what.  That could incriminate and offend the more
sensible sensibilities... so, want again as I have and it will be so.  then we will want what fire we will undergo to be like the other great souls we have known, and ensure at least our own redemption.




Ryan - 01/17/98 05:14:45

My Email:kawish@iquest.net
who are you?: I am nothing that does not breathe, yet I do not exist

what do you want?: to share without expectation

and why are you trying to get it from us?: one can expect nothing from nothing though what we have here is hardly nothing...  I try through my own default and not through any fault of yours.

talk about the page: one must work hard and treat himself fairly.  we both have much work to do.

talk about the passion: sometimes the doors of heaven thrust temselves open and golden light shimmers down upon the earth.  sometimes we're stuck being voyeurs with one squinted eye lustfully gazing through a keyhole

i can use all input: es ist shon spat, es ist shon kalt; kommt nimmermehr aus disem wald.

Comments:

I recently discovered that I do not exist and that Descartes was an idiot, for you see, thinking is hardly enough to prove my existence.  Rather, I feel the famous phrase should read "I believe, therefore I am."  which is riddled with contradictions and f
ailty, and that is partially the point.  My intent is to show that my delusion which asks me to believe I exist is what gives any potency to my reality, not my thoughts - which fly hither and yon with less direction than pollen in the wind.  This is why I
feel compelled to accept delusion as a reasonable lifestyle, for to assume that our existance is anything but delusional is clearly delusional.  But I find that the more I believe in my delusions, the more real they appear, and therefore I invent my reali
y and empower my existance through my belief in my own lunacy.  Oh... I don't really think Descartes was an idiot.  I'm hardly sophisticated enough to comment on his work.  That was just an exclamatory expression.


 Yes, but: dear boy...

the importance of the delusion IS that we believe them.  What good is a truth if we KNOW it's just a mask?  the lie we tell ourself [be it benign or malicious] has to be convincing or nothing gets accomplished.
 i've often wished i had seperate minds t
 keep my realities in [when i believe what was right and wrong... when i had truths to bounce around; chaoic acceptance of what is trying to pretend there are no filters] but it simply isn't like that... it is this "REALITY" that keeps me confused... keep
 me conltantly thinking that i'm dying all the time... to wake up and see everything's changed to listen closely and think it might be all the same... as today, as yesterday, as the day before.  it makes it hard to believe... but believe you must
 that is indeed correct. Decartes should have understood that [i'm not saying he didn't, but don't have any knowledge to back that up].  He was dealing with scepticism of everything and it came down to that: "i must be here, i'm thinking about all these t
ings, i must be here" and, ov course, it was more important: that fundamental belief that he must exist [which makes certain sense] to be able to think about such things... but it was that faith in his own existance that really validated it...

in my younger years i had observed many people's ideas as being strictly based on a faith they never considered [even if they told me about christain faith or something of the sort that was no indication they knew what faith really was]. i tried, on that 
ame course, to break that all apart and come to the solid proofs  ov the everything in everywhere... which doesn't happen, it is what we believe: importance is implied/invented.  god is our best friend hanging out at our sides, in our pockets, round our n
cks... comming out our mouths in those instances that we need to make the other people outside of us believe: and we are what they have to have faith in or our words are wasted.

so, does the game consist more of trying to persuade your peers you have importance in what you say
 or importance in what you are?
--how do you make someone else believe something?--




 - 01/14/98 16:22:10
 - 01/14/98 16:21:17
 - 01/14/98 16:21:15
 - 01/14/98 16:21:00

what do you want?: to stop the nerves..owww

and why are you trying to get it from us?: im not.i am....you may be interested

talk about the page: gratefully bland

talk about the passion: it burns my insides like a burst bladder.

Comments:

im all out of time today-it is getting dark.i would go and empty myself but it stings . likebees all over.ill be playing in the mud over the summer and then ,as seems to be the tradition , ill go and get lost----no places in mind , stinging all over like 
ried mud cracking on the skin-washing the shit from my feet and sandles with lemonade...for the waspsdon't tell me yor down again-no tommorrow no tommorrowi 've just left a message at the hivethe honey bagsaid-leavimalown-a loan alone .see you soon chum.<
r>
only could be said i'll be waiting until again.




Jim - 01/14/98 01:28:03

My Email:you know
who are you?: someone who cares

what do you want?: your best

and why are you trying to get it from us?: you are worth it

talk about the page: too damn green... baby shit green

talk about the passion: too damn intense for a child

i can use all input: relax. let go. be a beautiful boy

Comments:

maybe I'm too old for life in the fast lane... maybe you are too young...
no matter...
you own a piece of me...
that I can't seem to replace elsewhere...
but, then again, maybe I don't want to..

really don't like the propriety of ownership: it's what you give, not what i take... but i'm a hobbit and have a large sack to carry things on my back [many pockets and a million strings on my neck to attatch things to]
 but baby-baby-boy we're
neither too young nor too old: look at my mind you blind fuck [said in the nicest possible tones] i never had a childhood. just coz one body has been used more than the other... doesn't mean it should or shouldn't anything

"we're all beautiful golden sunflowers inside"

i guess it's just something we always have to deal with.




Ryan - 01/08/98 22:15:25

My Email:kawish@iquest.net
who are you?: the one whose tango never steps right in left of 1&2&3&2&1&2&3&....

what do you want?: To hold a mirror to posterity and make manifest her serpentile hair

and why are you trying to get it from us?: because you guard similar secrets, and share in kind...

talk about the page: its never easy, you know, for the butterfly to emerge from its chrysalis.  More courage is needed for that journey and ours.

talk about the passion: The source of all passion is desire.  I make a terrible Buddhist, but try time and again.  Still the passion burns, so I have to accept it, no?

i can use all input: Questions like a mirror to reflect and refrain for one more day to face the cold outside these walls around my soul.

Comments:

It was inevitable for the green fury to tempt my wanton soul, and so I here attest my own weakness and give myself to Dominic's portal of self-realization in other people's eyes, who sit behind blind windows and write out all the lies they'd rather not ta
k about to people who care.  They'd rather not make the commitment to share the heat at the centre of their breasts, fearing the judgement of uselessness and the unleashing of indigo deamons.  Still, I am well aware of these tales, and I play these games 
rom time to time too... Nothing like Cocteau, but you know, you've got to be someone and fight with all of your lack-luster might to be amongst your Gods.  Have you been to the Centre Georges Pompidou?  It is so filled with my heros that I feel sometimes 
hough I have hiked up Mount Olympus.  It's a similar feeling this trip to your soul, or at least that part which you're daring to show to a world not quite fit to handle your woes, though you are caring enough to compose these fine testaments to let peopl
 in and figure it out; to let us remember our own fears and doubts regarding our troubled psychology, and our wonder at just what went wrong.  He lets go of this though and changes tone, finding no pivot for his thick ideals he's glad this isn't a symphon
, and starts another paragraph.

It really is good work, my friend.  We'll never stop trying to work it all out, even though we know all too well, its in ceasing that we finally find that for which we've been reaching, the secrets that each of us guard. And do let me know when it's time 
to reconvene the conference we so recently left up to vermillion night skies and twinkling stars in the pupil of God's eyes.  Let me know when the time is right to see as God sees again through our eyes, then tempt me will overgrown phrases, and silver po
ls of christal words...

You know my charge... Do what you will.

how fair and wantingly true. keep this in mind and i'll see what i can do




 - 01/07/98 23:24:33

Comments:






 - 01/07/98 15:16:43

My URL:http://redhat9@hotmail.com

who are you?: les

what do you want?: to see what would happen

and why are you trying to get it from us?: im not im just being pragmatic

talk about the page: who are us ? this might be a better idea than the first

talk about the passion: its hurting my back

i can use all input: chat room?

Comments:

d.fanzine..ha ha very good.up to the minute info..blow by blow accounts.cybor-interpretation of friendship-weeall never meet and kiss again or hold hands.

but dear:
"i feel so unnecessary...
 We, don't think So you seem star-shaped"
[it's all for you, i swear i swear i SWear]




wait - 01/06/98 02:53:26

My Email:wait
who are you?: wait

what do you want?: time

and why are you trying to get it from us?: time

talk about the page: "Death needs time for what it eats to grow in,   "

talk about the passion: "...for AhPook's sweet sake."

i can use all input: surely

Comments:

well, since it is a "personal homepage"
the use of 'i' is completely comprehensible.
but why talk about 'you' so much?
i and you and i and you and i and YOU

oy, but i hope yr hundredandeight will be as painfully fresh as possible and that the first on the next year's document will be quickly and thick.
and ta ra ra.
    tri li li lee
thh

what importance is there
here
if it's just me again.. i'm pretending this isn't just masturbation, you silly boy




Keith again - 01/04/98 22:13:16

My URL:http://yada.yada.yada

My Email:keithg@bway.net
who are you?: Keith, again

what do you want?: a clarification

and why are you trying to get it from us?: [skip]

talk about the page: yes, now

talk about the passion: yes, now

i can use all input: ok

Comments:

I take back what I said about it being non-compelling. I actually didn't look at any of the links before I said that. :) Ok, so it is compelling. I have read enough poetry, fortunately, to read it. It is so much better than what a lot of people pass off a
 poetry. It's actually worth reading. 

Man, you are big. Broad. Deep. Nice. I am fortunate.

oh, i didn't realize... that i wrote poetry... 
 but thanks for the viewpoint. i try to fit the big suit i got myself... but i don't know just how well i fit it. tell me how it all comes out in the end




Keith - 01/04/98 21:38:15

My URL:http://yada.yada.yada

My Email:you have my number
who are you?: I'm Keith, in NYC

what do you want?: a blow job

and why are you trying to get it from us?: because you're hot

talk about the page: ummm, kinda non-compelling, though not anti-compelling

talk about the passion: huh?

i can use all input: patch from midi out A

Comments:

Hi Dominic. Is this you? Nice ummm... site. I don't mean to offend. It caught me off guard. At first I had no idea what or who it was, but then finally I saw the "virtual dominic" name. and I knew. I hope you're well. Where the hell are you now? 
- Keith






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