Age Ain't Nothing But A Number

Men have a lot of hang ups. Especially gay men; especially black gay men. We put a lot of requirements on the type of men we'll date and most often we'll settle for whats cute in the face, hard in the body, long in the dick, wet in the ass, and a commodity among the community, rather than going with substance.
Now don't get me wrong I am superficial about certain things myself. I just hate to date a man less feminine than myself; it bothers me. Not to mention that Drag Queens and Bottoms are a major turn off for me. First of all I can't see a guy in heals and a dress climbing my back: and well as far as bottom brother goes, we can't really do anything but swap stories. And I think i may have told more than I wanted to tell in this particular blog post.
Anyway, I bring this point up; about black gay men being so picky to point out something I myself am beginning to experience. Something I have never actually experience ever before in my life, and its sort of grappling with my nerves. You all know I am sort of kind of dating a guy. (I think, to be honest with you I am not really sure what we're doing, but we're doing something!) Anyway this guy, Mr Robinson is older than myself. Which doesn't bother me at all. I have dated older men before, in fact my first experience with a guy in a serious relationship was with an older guy. He was practically, if not my mothers age. We were together for quite sometime, and at the time I was in my early twenties.
However this fact has come up twice in conversations that I have had with Mr. Robinson, and I am beginning to more than think that our age difference bothers him. I am not sure if he thinks that I am too young and unable to really commit to the type of relationship that could possibly grow between us. Or weather it is that fact that he just sees himself as too old. What ever the reason there is definitely a sort of hesitation on his part, and I think that a little part of his hesitation has to do with the nature of the gap in age difference between us.
That sort of bothers me. I think it bothers me more than anything because I am a mature individual , and I have always been a mature individual, even in my early teens I related very well with adults and men of a certain age, and quite frankly I feel offended that he is allowing my age to quite possibly detour him from pursuing what would be quite an amazing experience. This bothers me a whole hell of a lot.
Is age really that big of a deal when deciding to enter into a romantic situation with someone that your attracted to. I mean i see older men flirt with younger men in the club all the time, and they don't seemed to be bothered. After all I did look young when you first started flirting with me, and I was younger than you when you slept with me, so why is it such an issue to pursue something more permanent with me like a emotional, and mentally stimulating relationship.
Is age really an issue?

Midnight Confessions: Part #3

My feet scramble to catch up with the shadowy figures in the darkness, as my mind began to devise negotiation strategies. I knew exactly how much money I had in my pocket, and though I was hoping to retain half of the ten I had brought with me, I knew that I wasn’t willing to spend anymore than that; despite the fact that I didn’t actually know what a date would cost because I had never bought one before. Truth was, if I had gone out to the club tonight I would have spent exactly that, and the possibility of me having brought some one home was a pretty great, so why should I expect to spend anymore than that for a boy I picked up off of the street?
Still part of me wondered; was I being rational? Was my idea of a fare price the same as the man who bartered his sexual prowess? Perhaps his self worth was slightly elevated and he didn’t think that my measly little two five dollar bills was enough payment for the gift of his sexual talents? After all I wouldn’t have been so liberal with the price point of my own sexuality. I personally would have been a fairly high priced hoe, or whore. But then again, how much could their self worth really be if they were selling themselves so freely on street corners? Of course at least they had the ingenuity to sell what most men/women gave away freely.
I crossed over Cypress pass the first figure who seemed to be having a lyric war with the lap post. The words flowing from his mouth as if he were a professional hip hop Pissarro. His hands moving back and forth across his torso like he was conducting a small hip hop orchestra. His jeans hung at his hips to reveal the bare skin that lay beneath the harsh fabric of the denim. My eyes moved over his clothes, through the part in his shirt at the base of his torso, and I took in the bushel of pubic hair that stared back at me. His yammering slowed as he slowly sized me up, and he swayed back and forth so that his jeans danced dangerously on his hips. I blushed beneath the cover of my hood.
I didn’t stop, I couldn’t stop. What was I going to say to this the emperor of hip hop? He was much to intimidating for me; just little rougher around the edges than I would have preferred to pick up on the street. If we had been in a more controlled atmosphere I probably would have approached him without hesitation, but his overtly thuggish exterior gave me pause, and I would have been thinking more of my safety than of the sexual exploits that would take place between us. So I passed on him; siliently hoping that he wasn’t the last peace of merchandise left on the beat. Knowing my luck he probably was and for the same reason that I had passed him by in the first place. He had an air or danger that was probably just too much that I or anybody else was willing to take a chance on.
I swept up the street; my feet quickly moving beneath me. I was almost back to Peachtree, and my nerves were getting the best of me. Perhaps this was a bad idea? I thought to myself as my fist clenched the keys in my pocket. Then he turned the corner, and my pace slowed almost immediately. His feet beat the concrete like a snare drum, echoing through the darkness and silence. His body swayed to a soundless beat that commanded my attention, and as he swayed melodically down the side walk I felt myself being pulled into by his brand of hypnosis. His cocoa colored eyes meet mine and his lips curled up into a dirty little grin. I felt my knees getting weak beneath me. Steady yourself boy. I said softly between slow deep breaths. I let my fingers move over the bills folded up in my pocket. I felt bad for not bringing more cash as my eyes moved over the outline of his physic as he glided in and out of the darkness and the light of the street lamps above us. He was in exceptional health; from what my eyes could spy.
His shoulders spread eagle across the scoop of his back, and rounded the definitive muscular contours on his arms. I took a deep breath and straightened my posture as he passed me. My eyes never left his and his never wavered from my stair. As he passed me his shoulder brushed against mine, and I felt a surge of electricity pass between our bodies. Then I heard his voice call out too me.
To be continued…

Chances, Control, & Vulnerability

Taking control really translates into taking chances for a guy like me; especially when when it comes to men, love, & relationships. I am one of those people who always let's the guy that I am interested in have control. It's my way of being safe and allowing myself to obserb at situation, as someone recently told me.
I don't normally consider this a bad habit it's gotten me through over thus far, but it hasn't neccessarily gotten me what I wanted, nor am I always satisfied with what or whom I have ended up with in the past. And with so many changes going on in my life I don't want to wake up and ever regret what I didn't do, what didn't say, or what I didn't take a chance on because I was too scared to take control. That's not living!
Soni decided tonight that I would be bold that I would take a chance. I decided tonight that I would man up, so to speak, and take control of my emotions. For he past five days I have raving about Mr. Robinson, the man that I meet at BB's crib playing cards on thursday night. The guy is everything that I could have thought of in a man that I could possibly be attractive to. Sensitive, intelligent, sophisticated, remarkably funny, very sexual (in that he keeps up with my appetite very well), he's cocky without being an ass, and he's so sexy. Of all that he makes me feel nervous in that good sort of way that intrigue and fascination makes one feel nervous. To sum all that up; I have a thirst for him. I have a hunger for him that makes me salivate when he crosses my mind, and it's crazy how extremely hard it is to shake him from my thoughts. I want him in a way that that I can only describ as being like starvation.
It is this very desire that drove me to get up out of my bed at 9:15 pm at night to take control. I wanted him to know how I felt so I am on my way to tell him & I hope that buy taking a chance at taking control, that it shows him how vulnerable I am.


- Writing Out Loud from my iPhone

A Revelations of Life

By Rafael Solece

The last couple of days have really been sort of eye opening. Everything that has begun to happen has really got me to contemplating some things about my life. Though everything in my circle of influence, personal, and spiritual and relative to my life in general is going in an upward momentum, there have been a few days in the midst of my progression that have caused me to pause. Cause me to think; caused me to reevaluate my understanding.

Most of which have had to do with major changes in my immediate lifestyle. Like my retreat from the day to day cycle of a nine to five. Or the revelation of being in the final stages of publishing for my first novel. (Even now it still puts a smile on my face.) Not to mention the launch of my website, and the beginning of my writing career; which has leapt mounds in the last couple of days. It is all these things that have changed my mind about certain ideals that I have held close to my heart in the last year; the biggest of those ideas being living a single life style.

In the past year I have birthed many things; from new visions to new projects, and each time that life has offered me a new level of understanding I have taken it with a hungry heart. When I decided that love was fleeting, and being single was much more pragmatic I embraced it whole heartedly. It gave me an opportunity to really appreciate myself and what I had to offer. It gave me an opportunity to understand that I was a gift, and that the person that came into my life should feel honored to be with me. Most of all, that time to myself give me the time to marinate on the gifts that The Most High had blessed me with, and to grow in my understanding of what I deserve, what I am capable of, and what is deemed righteous in my eyes.

The time I spent learning, appreciating, and building myself; was magnificent time spent. But I think in that time I forgot what is was like to have someone to share the triumphs of life with. Friday I learned that the first copy of my book was due to arrive her at my home. I was excited and my heart danced in a way it hadn't danced in a long time. If I had been a cloud I would have floated into the cosmos. That's just the type of joy I felt. But as I celebrated my accomplishment, I realized that I was celebrating alone. There was no one here to be married in my joy. It is funny how accomplishment, alone means very little when it is alone.

It was in the midst of my joy that I recognized sadness in me. I wasn't lonely in the sense of being alone. In fact; Loneliness I handled extremely well. I had grown accustomed and peaceful in that state of being. I loved the solitude of having what only belonged to me. I loved the peace of living alone. I loved the solidarity of being able to come and go as I pleased. What I found bothered most: was the fact that in my joyous, ecstatic, revilant, and triumphant moments of life, there was no one to share and reveal in them with me. That made was what made me stop and think. Made reevaluate love, and relating to someone, who loved relating to me.

It was then that I begin to feel the loneliness of being without a man who quite feverishly loved me. And who I could share the relevant, joyous, accolades that the bounty of my life was offering me.

MidNidght Confessions: Continued

By Rafael Solece

My eyes swept the street corners swiftly, as my heart pounded in my chest. The occupants that usually stood lording over the dimly lit street corners were absent from their thrown. My heart sank in my chest. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Usually the streets were filled with the presence of would be intimacy suitors, pacing the streets impatiently as they waited for potential buyers of their professional services. Yet tonight the streets were bare. A part of me felt that I was out of luck. Perhaps the usually inefficient Atlanta Police Department had actually gotten busy and ran off the male prostitutes that normally worked the back streets of the upscale midtown neighborhood. The panic ran through me like a flood of hot water, from an un-tempered enema.
I looked down at my watch. The time was only a quarter to four. The clubs had let our only forty-five minutes ago. Perhaps I had decided to find a date too late? All the drunken horny club goers had speed to the alley’s and scooped up the selection of dirty dick trade and taken them home to have a drunken row, leaving me alone in the darkness with no chance of satisfying my own sexual frustrations. I pondered going to the book star around the corner. Or perhaps trying to find the bathhouse that I had mentioned in passing on those rare occasions when My ears had picked up on the random conversations of other more sexually informed men of the same understanding as mine. But then how bold really was I going to be tonight?
Clearly this act had been a snap decision based completely on my own sexual hunger. Was I really will to venture into more conspicuous acts of sexual degeneration? More insightful, was I actually willing to spend more than the ten dollars that I had in my pockets? Clearly those other ideas would lead me to spend more money than I was prepared to. The better notion would be for me to turn around right now and go home clearly it wasn’t meant to be that I find a date tonight. At least not the kind of date that I had to rent by the hour, or by the act. I could always get on line and see if I could find someone just as eager as myself. I made up my mind to head back to the house, nut I would loop around the block before conceding defeat.
I slide between the shadows of two buildings. My eyes and ears alert. Not simply for the presence of the men that I sough, but for any dangers that might lay in the still of the night; a random attacker, gay basher, or lurking police cruiser that might have some intention on spoiling my evening. The stillness around me was almost piercing to my ears. I would have preferred some noise; the faint sound of moving cars, or even the blaring of sirens in the background, but nothing came to interrupt the solitude of the street. I turned the corner where the now empty parking lot sat parallel to the shadows of the stand alone warehouse style lofts stood in contrast to the vastness of the broken concrete. Still no sign of there ever having been a warm body for some time, not even the stale aroma of urine was present. I hiked up the street about a block filling very unhappy with the cleanliness of my new surroundings, and I longed for the danger of a real live neighborhood degeneration.
I turned another corner and finally in the distance I could see the faint possibility of ___. My spirits was lifted, and my feet plugged forward with a newly found purpose. The obscured figures far ahead of me slunk secretively in and out of the darkness. They’re bodies dancing with the urgency of of elusiveness. My heart danced along with them in my chest as my excitement climbed. It looked like I may get to purchase a gift to the dance after all…
To Be Continued.

Midnight Confessions

By: Rafael Solece


I had never done anything like this before and honestly I didn’t know why I had decided to do it tonight? I guess there is a first time for everything. At least that’s what I said to myself as I slipped on my shoes, pocketed the two five dollar bills that I had grabbed from the grocery money stashed in the can over the refrigerator, slipped on the over sized hoodie that my ex had forgot to pack on the day that I put him out, grabbed my keys, and slide out the back door. I tip toed down the stairs like a cat burglar creeping onto someones fire escape, quietly trying o make my get away with out waking the my unsuspecting neighbors.
Honestly though, it was my neighbors fault that I was even up. There sexcapades had kept me awake way into the early morning hours, as I listened to the female counter part of the beautiful male in apartment number 5, whom I had watched on more than one occasion with lustful eyes as he took out the trash, scream and moan (loudly I might add) in sexual ecstasy. I had only lived next door to them for three days and this was the first time that I had been privy to their sex life, as satisfying as it sounded, and I had to admit I was a tad bit jealous as I laid alone in my bed. He sounded like a phenomenal lover, and my jealousy stemmed primarily from the fact that I couldn’t watch, but not merely because of the fact that it wasn’t I that was engaging in such acts.
Still I must admit that a part of me did imagine that it was I laying in my hunky neighbors bed, moaning euphorically in sexual bliss. For I could only imagine the types of things that he was doing to his equally attractive miss, and a part of me really just wanted to know if my vivid imagination was truly on point. But as their love making coursed on through the night it became infuriating to listen to them, and by the time that they had finally climaxed for the fourth time in one night and drifted softly off to sleep, I was left horny and unsatisfied by the fifth ill fated attempt by my roaming right hand to please the monster called longing in my loins. So here I was walking the street in the that hour between late and early looking for what some would call a date, simply because my harmons had over taken me.
I felt a tad bit ashamed, but there was an air of xhilleration coursing through my veins. Though couldn't believe that I was about to make such a transaction as to pay for sex. I also felt confident in my new found inhibition. I had never done anything like this before, yes. But A part of me had always wondered what it might be like. Out loud and in mixed company I condemned men who did such deplorable thing, but secretly I had always wanted to know what it was like to do it myself. Pay for sex, or get paid for sex. I wondered what the fascination with prostitution was. Maybe it was the mixture of danger and civil dis-obedience that caused someone to step so recklessly out of the box? Or perhaps it was the lack of regular sexual release, or an over abundance of sexual energy? Or perhaps just a boring sex life at home? I didn’t know, honestly I didn’t care. My reasons were my own.
Three months of sexual frustration had bubbled over, and now I was tired of waiting for the right partner to come along. I needed some full body contact, against a hard body. My abundant porn collection could only do so much and I had stretched the fibers of my imagination far beyond its boundaries, and the kink in my wrist had started to irritate me. I needed, no, I wanted some help. And as I crossed the street to the whore stroll I said my silent prayer, hoping that my God would protect me and forgive me for my sin…
To Be Continued

Under Construction; Letter From the Editor

So RafaelSolece.com is under construction. I know it's been that way for a while. Cut me some slack I have been trying to juggle a lot of things and I'm not really paying my graphic designer for his services, so I am not really putting a lot of pressure on him. But I promise the site is coming. It's taken me a minute to figure out what it is that I am going to focus on but I may have found my particular voice amongst the blogging community. Now I haven't got this thing down to a science, I am jkust going to stick to what I know. Which basically consist of artistic endeavors.

RafaelSolece.com will deliver to it's readers and at time viewing audiences, the latest in film and telelvision releases and definitely keep you up with my opinion of what movies rock the and what movies should be tied to rocks, drop in the ocean and forgotten about completely. Of course I will deliver the dish on the best restaurants that I encounter in and around Atlanta, and in my travels. Of course I'll even drop a cooking lesson or two on you, and maybe give you some of my best cocktail recipes. Of Course I will drop an interview in on you from time to time, and some delicious articles about things that matter to me. (That's what's important after all, right?) I give you the best in theater, some trending topics, and I will give you a good sexy short story every so often. So do me a favor, read my blog and hold on for the new RafaelSolece.com coming to a Mac, PC, Iphone, Blackberry, & Droid screen near you.

Thanks

Rafael Solece

A Funny thing Happened when I Arrived @ Work Yesterday

By: Rafael Solece

A funny thing happened when I arrived at work yesterday; Starbuck's and I decided to part ways or something to that affect. Basically I was fired. It's funny that it happened when it did. I was getting so tired of leasing myself out to other business's and neglecting the business of my art form, and I kept telling myself that I was ready to move on to bigger things. Like the formation of my own business entity in Masquerade. Problem was is that I didn't know how I was going to support myself, and though Starbuck's really wasn't supporting my life style. I had convinced myself that I needed it because it was steady; because it was a pay check. Funny how I always talk about being worth so much more than what companies pay me, yet I held on to such a mediocre pay scale, thinking the same way that most working black American's think. At least it's a job, and at least I am getting paid. When the truth is what I was getting paid was nearly what I am worth.

So when the ball dropped and I was given my walking papers it didn't even seem to hurt. In fact a part of me felt relieved. I mean I am not a coffee jocky. I am fucking writer. What in the hell am I doing wasting my time standing in front of a damn espresso machine making latte's, if it ain't my own personal espresso machine and I am doing it for myself? I should be at home writing, creating, developing my craft. That's what I've wanted to do for so long; to focus on creating, writing, the promotion and building of The Rafael Solece brand. Instead I have been wasting time doing a whole bunch of nothing to expand the brand of someone else. That's like the stupidest thing in the world., Here I am 27 years old, going on 28 and I have spent the better half of my adult life helping rich people stay rich, and I've been gett8ing the short end of the stick. That's about as dumb as a dress on a poodle. So of course when my Store Manager gave me my walking papers some part of me felt relieved.

After all I had been talking about working for myself for a long time. I had talked about starting Masquerade, talking about working from home, creating my own schedule; so why wasn't I doing just that? Simple, secretly I was frightened out of my mind about stepping out on my own. Though outwardly I seemed confident in my artistic abilities, inwardly I have been fighting to get up the courage to walk away from my semi-secure J-o-b. secretly frightened that maybe I'm not as talented as I think I am. Nobody is going to invest in a person who won't invest in themselves. So now that I don't have my paycheck anymore. I am taking the chance. I am taking the advice of the very wise and impressionable XemVanAdams, I am launching my much talked about web site, getting myself some advertiser's and sponsors and I am going to work for my damn self.

Look out world Rafael Solece is blogging out loud, and in color.

Random Thoughts

I haven't been in a place of my own all alone ever I think. In fact I am almost sure that every apartment that I have had I have shared it with a man. sharing my life so to speak with some man. Though this experience now quite different, subletting space in my apartment to my friend while she is trying to get on her feet, I have to wonder is his a tren with me? I mean to say is it impossible for me to live alone?
I certainly hope not! I don't ever want to be in another situation where I am allowing someone to take up space in my life simply because I am lonely or don't want to be by myself. It almost sounds pathetic, really! Why can't I be alone. After all I actually write better in solitude, and honestly the noise and clutter of others bothers me. I sound like a confused little skesphrinic (I am sure I spelle that wrong.)
Going to bed now. Here's a thought I wish I had someone to rock me to sleep tonight!


Rafael Solece
- Writing Out Loud from my iPhone

Imagine Me

I never imagined that I would have to deal with real men, who ask real questions. In th past two days I have come face to face with two men, and both of them have come at me on some real grown man type conversation. I won't go into too much detail about our conversation but let me say this: It is both enchanting and frightening to stare into he face of adulthood.
For those of you who don't quit understand what I am droning on about, allow me to explain. Before now all the men hat I attracted were the same. Physically they were grown men. They were capable of being adults and they even lived adult lives but emotionally and mentally they were children. Little boys trapped inside of grown men bodies. I never had to face myself because I never had never met a man who mentally could keep up the pace with me. And because of this I never had to deal with, not neccessarily my faults, but my own insecurities. Now because I guess The Most High is moving me up higher, because I have moved into a new stage in my evolution my spirit is changing; and my spirit is attracting new spirits, new people into my relm of being. And these new spirits are making me face new aspects of myself hat I have been avoiding.
I am both excited for the new plato of my spiritual and personal growth but LORD knows I am completely taken aback; frightened almost. I believe though that I would not be here if The Most High God did not know that I was in a place where I was honestly ready to face, learn, and know myself.

Sent from Rafael Solece's Iphone

Man Don't Fail Me Now

By Rafael Solece

As I was listening to Mario's new LP DNA I kind of got chills. Though Mario has never been extremely attractive to me. I have always regarded him as a voice to be reckoned with in the music industry. and one can not say that the boy hasn't grown into his looks. But the new album is actually very good, and some of the tracks kind of take me back to the days of ole in R&B Music. But Then I have always been partial to a male vocalist. It's something about that voice, those harmonies, and all that begging that just does something to me. The scantily clad videos help to plead the case. But Really I just love to hear a man sing to me, it's the quickest way to get a rise out of me. (if you know what I mean.)

I just recently read a very interesting blog on Xemvanadams.com talking about the male R&B singer. It hit on some really good points and made me think about the landscape of R&B music. The men are definitely in the decline. and their music is to say the least not always the most rated g.
Here is the link http://xemvanadams.amplified-pixels.org/?p=5896

The article goes on to talk about he decline of male R&B vocalist and the death of their careers. Maybe death is a strong word, but clearly the male r&b vocalist have gotten lost in the mix of stagnated beats, and mediocre rhymes. What use to be a mixture of attractive good looking men with sultry tones that carried us away on the melodies of love, lost and found. Now some how have been replaced with down right vulgarity. What every happen to the sweet love songs that use to lull me to sleep at night? Have men simply stop falling in love, and if so why must we hear about their sexual exploits through their music.
Clearly I have porn for that.

Back in my hey day the air ways use to be filled with the melodic voices of Luther Vandros. Men who use to want to hold women if only for one night. Or Brian McKnight who croon so sweetly "DO I Ever Cross your Mind Anytime?" What happened to the music that made women feel like women? When did Male R&B singers cross over and become mainstream porn stars? Perhaps in this day and age that type of music just doesn't exist anymore. Maybe those type of men, singers don't exist anymore? I personally feel that all is not lost. There may be a revival in the making, through the careers of artist like Rahiem De Vaughn, Lyfe Jennings, Ne-Yo, and Or Up and coming you tubers like Datboybroadway and Brandon Hines. At least that's what I hope.

I ain't giving up on the boys yet. Surely to God if the fad of sagging jeans has staying power, then the real male R&B singer can make a comeback

Dramatic BlackOut

By Rafael Solece

The Atlanta theatrical season of 2010 looks quite dull this year, to say the least. Literally I am completely uninterested in any of the shows at our major playhouses.You would think that in a city where artist, actors, and writers alike, are literally piled on top of one another that our theater selection would be vast. It's hardly that and it boils my blood to see that there aren't a lot of original material hitting the empty stages and playhouse of my fair city. If can't tell by now this disappoints me. I love the theater. I love drama, I love romance, I love music, and i love the dance. Unfortunately in Atlanta the theatrical arts are treated like Oliver Twist, we're the forgotten orphans of Atlanta; mistreated and quite frankly discarded. Despite the many lovers and performers of the arts that there are in the city their just aren't any awesomely groovy production companies in Atlanta. At least none producing quality theater, or producing theater at all.
There seems to be a lack of productivity when it comes to the creation, development, and production of theater in Atlanta. In a city full of so many talented actors, musicians, artist, and writers it baffles my mind to know that their aren't many original productions getting top billing. Hell, getting billed or built at all. But it literally pisses me off that we seem to be getting the scraps of Broadway. What the fuck is Broadway across America, but someones idea of saying "lets throw the little cities a bone and send them something cultural."
I hate that Atlanta is at the mercy of the Broadway Gods. Literally taking whatever we can get because we're starved for true entertainment. It's not just the lack of real theater that has me up in arms, but there aren't any real producers here who are truly dedicated to the craft. The producers in this city have a one track mind, and are quite literally limited to the complete development of poop music, and hip-hop production. Instead of to the cultivation of true pro formers; true artist. It's like being stuck on a single track when there are sixteen other song son the CD.
Think about the bass player and violinist; who quit frankly get looked over. While the hood boy on the corner gets praised for his none talent as a lyricist. (hell half of them don't even play any instruments.) Or the singers who get praised, but their vocal prowess less than exceptional. Look, I love hip-hop just as much as the next person, but I love the craft more. And a few dope beats and some unremarkable singers aren't going to do it for me. I need substance. Give me a power house Broadway singer, phenomenal dancer, and a full on string orchestra any day of the week. But hey who am I, but a lowly third rate blogger, writer, novelist, play write, out of work thespian.
Atlanta truly has the ability to produce some awesome Broadway worthy stars, but the lack of attention to the theatrical community, to the artistic community at large is to say the least, lackluster.
Could someone please send me a decent play, because as much as I love Tyler. He is no Andrew Loyd Webber, and I am bored.

Home Ain't Home No More

By Rafael Solece

There is a funny thing about leaving home. It is never what you expect it to be like. When we are young adults on the verge of adulthood anxiously awaiting the moment that we can leave our parents home we expect it to be a liberating and a joyous occasion. We expect to step out into the big world and conquer it at the very first attempt. Because after all we are idealistic, and brazen in our fears, and most of all we're motivated by that powerful word INDEPENDENCE. We look forward to the possibility of responsibility, despite not truly knowing what it is. Yet something deep inside of each one of us screams out "Give Us Free!" Then given the moment of an unlatched door we bolt like thieves in the night racing away from the home that has sheltered us for so many years.
For lots of us leaving home is completely the opposite of anything that we ever expected. It can be a scary eye opening experience, rot with frustration and emotional upheaval. Full of responsibilities that we were ill prepared to take on. Laddened with heart break, troubles, disappointment, and laced with bad decisions I know for me I expected the first time that I left home to be the only time that I would grace my mothers door step, other than the occasional visit or holiday retreat. I bolted like a lion after a loan gazelle on the African plane. I was hungry for the freedom that the world outside of my mothers doors yielded. Despite being ill prepared and irrational I stepped out into the world with the courage of my convictions. I never imagined that I would have to go back home.
So when twice I did make my way into the world and fell short of my own expectations. When life had happened and happened over and over again to me, and it forced me to concede my own defeat and run home with my tail between my legs. I felt that I didn't know that I would ever be able to leave home again, even though I very much wanted to. I guess that some part of me felt that I might fall again. That I wouldn't achieve anything, because i didn't have the skills to do so. I guess that some part of me felt that life was unfair and because love had beaten me that all I had was the safety of home. I guess i felt that some how in my youthful life experiences that I had failed to many times and the idea of failing again angered and repulsed me. So instead of running back out into the cold cruel world I hide myself away in the shelter my child hood home. Which i think was slightly easier than it should have been, because my mother wasn't yet ready to let me go anyway. And so it was easy for me to wade in the water this last year. Not really trying, and not really failing, but feeling slightly unaccomplished.
Then there is when it comes time for a man to leave home. When a man has matured in such a way that want no long dictates his actions but necessity makes for the more responsible choices. As 2010 came in pushing me closer to my dreams and aspirations I found myself compelled to make adjustments in preparation for my bright future. Problem was that in order to do that I would have to deal with the issue at hand. Conquering my own misguided fears. The biggest of those steps was stepping out on my own again. But this time for real. This time because I was prepared. this time because the experiences that I had gone through in my first attempts at life had yielded some valuable lessons learned. This time because instead of running away I was actually prepared to run toward something. I was ready to run to life. SO it was no surprise to me that when I woke up one morning something struck me deep down inside and i knew it was time to leave. The thing is like before it wasn't a hard decision. I did not hesitate, but I felt confident, competent, and eager. The difference was this time I was mature in who I was. And so I began to make preparations for my life outside of this place. For life outside of my grandmothers home.
Funny thing though; this home, this house i live in now is the same house that I grew up in. It is the house where I started my first day of 1st grade, my first year of middle school, and my first year of High school. My brother grew up here, and all my fondest memories of life were trapped inside of these walls. Every family holiday. Every family dinner. Every nightmare, every fight, every tear, and every monstrous fit of laughter were drenched in these walls. My sense of family was formulated in here. the memories of my late grandmother and all she taught me as a child to an adult were reared in this house. And the sweat of my mothers tears were soaked between the floor boards. But most of all the foundation of me was poured here. This is where I first became Rafael Solece.
So my decision to leave this time meant that this house would not be in my family anymore. My decision to leave this time meant things were about to really change. You see all I have be talking about this move. Counting down the days till i finally walked out of the hood, out of this house that had been my home for the past year. Yet as I prepared my things for that finale day of exodus, packing bags and boxes, something struck me deep down in my soul. The house that I had called home for the last twelve months was in actuality the the place that I had called home for most of my life. Two and a half decades had gone by since my grandmother had first purchased this dwelling, moved us all in. It hit me like a tone of bricks over the head. The kitchen where she had prepared so many family meals, the dinning room where she had entertained, the rooms where we had lived, loved, cried and fought. They would no longer be our rooms. And as the thought struck me I began to cry. After Saturday I wouldn't have a home anymore.
It scared me, but most of all it hurt just a little. Hell who am I kidding; it hurt a hell of a lot.
Though no one was forcing me out. It felt like something was being taken from me. I guess because it was. All my memories, my childhood, my grandmother; they were all being taken from me. There wouldn't be another place like 549. And as reckty, old, lackluster as this place was a peace of me wanted to stay. Despite knowing that it was time for me to go. People talk about seasons all the time. They talk about how God places things, people, and places in your life for a season. SO that you can get what what you need from them and then he moves you on to a different season, a better season, the next season. And you have to be willing to let go. I know its time to let go, and I know
I have to let go, but this time its hard to let go of the place I called home for so very long.
I have until Saturday, but somehow I know these next couple of days are going to be the hardest days

of my life...

The Book Of Eli Official Trailer

By Rafael Solece

Not an other road warrior movie...
OK I love Denzel to, but really do you think that he can pull of the Mad Max look. I think not. But we'll see.
In the Book Of Eli, Written and directed by. Denzel plays a loan warrior defending himself from the violent gangs and scavengers competing for the limited resources of an American wasteland. When he comes across and egotistical tyrant who rules over his town with an iron fist. (yea, yea, yea) and he feels the need to defend the people from his tyranny.
Yes I have heard it before. Hell it's been done before. But hey I promise I will give it a chance. I plan on seeing this movie sometime this week. at least I will try to get around to it, in the midst of my busy schedule. Until then here is the trailer. It looks kind of interesting.

My Love Button Is Broken

By Rafael Solece

I think My love button is broken. The reason I say this is because I keep picking men to date that don't know how to love me back, or just decide that they aren't going to choose me. Men who are quick to tell me that they love/like me. I am the perfect little somebody. I am sweet, I am loving, I am perfect, I have dreams and ambitions, and I am sexy and cute. Yet some how I fall short of their requirements for love and the next thing I know I find out that their locked down in a relationship. This usually happens a month after they tell me that they just want to take their time with me, and date. WTF! Is that not the craziest shit that you have ever heard in your life? How in do you fall in love and get locked down in a relationship while dating someone else?
This happened several times in 2009. The very first was with a Porn Producer that I found myself falling for. Those of you who follow me on twitter might remember this. It was around the first part of the summer months, late spring. He was everything I thought I wanted in a man. Successful, Energetic, Funny, Extremely attractive. He was extremely well versed. He had the stamina of an Ox, and he was available. WE met one evening under some extraordinary circumstances (lol) and we had breakfast and a wonderful conversation. We went out on a couple of more dates subsequently, during which time I felt myself falling for him. Now some time went pass and his texts slowed and then they stopped all together some weeks later I read on his blog that he is booed up. Needless to say I was a little heart broken, I really liked that guy. Hell! He was the perfect prototype for Myles. (we will get into who/what a Myles is later.) Anyway, I was pushed to the side, and left out in the cold like some left over fish you pick up at the Marta station.
Now, this recently happened to me again. I met a guy and we exchanged math. We proceeded to converse via text over the course of two months. Mostly because i was busy with book and blog stuff, and my time was very limited. Finally one night we managed a date. We hung out, had some drinks, played some cards. It seemed that everything was there. The Chemistry, the attraction, He read me well, as well as I did him. We hung quite a few more times over the course of the month of December. (No nukkie, but lots of talk of Nukkie in the future) We discussed our dreams, ambitions, what we wanted in mates, and past relationships. We had a lot in common, and we began to grow closer. Though we both knew we weren't ready to dive into a relationship, still there was mutual fascination and interest. At some point we actually even started imagining what it might be like to reside with one another somewhere down the line. Then one day he says to me. I just got out of a relationship, and though I like you, I would like to slow down. Then he starts saying thing s like
"I am just testing you to see if you can deal with me. I just don't want to be hurt any more."
At first this pissed me off but I understood, I had been single for at least two years but before that I had always been in a relationship. So I got what he was saying. The testing me thing kind of pissed me off. Hell I had been hurt too. I had gone through just as much bull as he had, but I didn't charge other men for what my past lovers had done to me. When I give myself I don't ask for payment; I don't ask you to earn anything. All I ask for is your love, dedication, and appreciation. Why was I being tested. Then a couple of weeks pass and suddenly he's talking back with his ex, and they are practically living together again.
I can't tell you how much this pissed me off. Now the Porno Man was a shock and it threw me off my game, but this guy just really pissed me off. Honestly it hurt my damn feelings. I started to wonder what the Fuck is wrong with me that No Body picks me. If I am so great, so attractive, so sweet, so sexy, got such good sex, so ambitious, so motivated and motivating. Why is it, if I am so intelligent, funny, loving, devoted, and a hell of a catch; why in the hell are men picking the default model.
My only conclusion was that My Love Button Is Broken.
Perhaps it's not the men with the problem, but perhaps it is me. The button in my heart that picks the men to fall for has got to be broken. Because for some reason I keep picking these broke down and confused dudes. If this is the case, how do I correct this problem? Who do I call to repair my Love button? Is there a number I can call 1-800-luvbutton? Is there a service similar to the Geek Squad that I can call? Where is the HeartBregade and how do I get in contact with them? Because this issue that I am having with picking the wrong man is not one that I would particularly like to continue having throughout the rest of my life. Hell I deserve to be picked, and picked by a great guy like myself.
WILL SOMEONE PLEASE COME FIX MY LOVE BUTTON?

"You"d Better Move"

I woke up this morning feeling ready to take on the world. Though there are a lot of things that need to be done during the course of this week. I feel extremely capable of taking on all my task with little stress and diligence. I guess i feel empowered this morning. But a better word would be energized. I am sure that it was the sermon that Bishop delivered yesterday. It's something about hearing confirmation, about a conversation that you have already had with The Most High that makes one feel unstoppable. That affirmation that what your doing, where your going, what it is that you want in life is in accordance with The Most Highs plan for you.
I was so scared months ago about leaving behind my current situation. I was uncertain that I had had what it took financially to form a stable lifestyle for myself. The life style that I wanted; the life style that I felt that I deserved. Problem with that was I had already received the assertion early on that would be okay. You see to feel something so deep down in your soul that it wakes you from your sleep at night, or boggles your mind all through the day is the way I know I have a word from God. When he has placed something in me. Whatever it is just won't let me sleep. I toss and turn, I sit up at night, and in my dreams whatever it is still bothers me. That's The Most Highs way of letting me know, this is what I want you to do. For me, it's a nagging sort of a situation, because I never listen the first time.
But by the time he's done with me I am so feed up with what is going on around me standing in it, even the thought of standing in it causes an uneasiness in my spirit. So it is no wonder that now I am so ready for this next phase, of my life/career. It's why I feel so confident in the things that I am doing. Because where I am is so uncomfortable that I can't bare to stay. I've grown pass it, over it, and now it's time for me to move on.
Understand that when your spirit has had enough. When you are worn out on a particular situation or circumstance, there is a communion between the Holy spirit and your spirit that happens. They both come to and understanding or agreement and decide that life has something else to offer. It is then that without your permission different plans are made for you. New ideals are formed, what was once comfortable for you in you physical become uncomfortable and almost unbearable and suddenly you can't stand to be where you are. When this happens and you recognize it, you know then that some grow has taken place, and exponentially that it is time for you to move on. That I think is what happened to me some months ago. That's why now there is such an urgency for change.
Recognize when you have change. You will be all the better for it, and you won't be sitting around disgusted buy things and not know why....
This is Rafael Solece....Writing Out Loud

Thankful

As I am making my way to the House of The Most High this morning I am "thankful" for all that is being done in and for my life in most recently. As 2010 came in I had high hopes for what was to come, but even now as the first week is coming to a close I never imagined that even my challenges could be blessing. Yet the first couple of blessings of the year were presented to me and I think that I handled them with grace, humility, and much maturity. I feel empowered and oh so encouraged to attack my blessings eagerness, and I only hope that as I move forward in this year that I am continue to superceed my own expectations. I hope that I accomplishments are great mountains in the eyes of those that wish me to underachieve. Every day I will write, every chance I will blog, and I hope that my imagination is like that of a child "magical and great" as I move forward in my choosen career. Stick with me, I promise I have awesome things in store.

Rafael Solece



- Writing Out Loud from my iPhone

He Click's His Heels ToGether

I feel so displaced right. Everything in my life at this moment is in a swarm of confusion, and though I know that its all going to be alright. I still can't wait until the dust has settled. There are a thousand things up in the air right now. I am waiting on the book to be released by my publishing company. I am on hold with the launch of my web site, waiting on contracts to be signed, domains to be transferred, templates to be finished. It all seems like a one big mess. To put the icing on the cake I am in search of a new place to live, beings that my lease will be up on my current residence in Febuary. Which is the most frustrating situation of all my situations.
My home has always been my sanctuary, and though my current place of residence hasn't always been as comfortable, comforting, or as convieniant as I would have liked, it has non-the-less been my home. Therefore it has been my haven. Now I am having to find a new place to house, not only myself, but it has to be a place where I can work as well. Its like looking for the perfect cup of coffee. You know where the best coffee house is but the guy who makes the best cappucino's is off today.
Of course my ideal place would be in Mid-town Atlanta. Amoungst the rest of the gays. COnvienant to my current part time gig, closer to public transit, near the best bars, eateries, and shopping. But of course one has to consider my budget until both the web site and book take off. (or until that six figure book deal falls into my lap.) Not to meantion the fact that I haven't gone apartment searching in so long. I think the last time I actualy looked at an apartment book was sometime in 2008, and even back then it wasn't a long process. I knew I wanted to live downtown, so the first place with a 30308 area code that I found was where. I settled.
Though I still want to live in Midtown, I can honestly say I would rather be leasing someones condo, rather than looking to lease in soem complex. there is so much more freedom in leasing from a private owner than a coorporation.
Any who, I am staying the course. There are no problems only situations in 2010. That is my motto for now anyways. I will push forward, I am almost positive I will find something by the middle of nexgt week. Pray for me yawl. After all I do still have Da DIva to contend with. (I love her, but I do look foreward to having my own place, and my bed back to myself.) This is Rafael Solece; Writing Out Loud.

????After The Peach Dropped????

By Rafael Solece

There is something so profound about ringing in a new calendar year. The days leading up to it are extremely exciting, and alarming all at the same time. Lots of us spend time looking back over the year we’ve had. We play the moments out in our mind like some homemade movie; we reminisce over the highs and lows of it, the good times and the bad times, and the speckled people in between. Some of us crone over the things that we lost. While others give themselves a pat on the back, to praise their many accomplishments through out the year. Then the drinking begins as we toast to all our past, present and future accomplishments.
But after the peach has dropped; after I have kissed all the boys and girls standing around on Peachtree Street. After my BFF and I have laughed and finally sobered up from a night of drunken staggering through the streets with the other hoards of Drunken New Years Eve, night walkers. After the Holiday’s have ended, and the party is over. After the sun has come up on the first day of the year it is back to business as usual. For some people there is a complacency that comes with the day after. There are those of you that spent the first day of the year recovering from a hard night of partying. Some never left the bed, some never left the hotel room. Some of you probably had to get up and jump right back into work, but it was a slow start. The 1st day of the year is usually set aside for recuperate. Which is understandable, but for some of us, there is no time for rest.
We got to get up, shit, shower, shave, and get back on our grind. There is no time for complacency. No time for laying down. No time to figure out whoes underwear we have on? Instead we toss those unrecognizable briefs in the trash, put on a pair of our own (hopefully a clean pair) and get back to hustle., Weather it be recording that single in the studio. Writing that next novel. Finishing the prospectus for your new company. Whatever your hustle is your right back to work. Why? Because success waits for no man, especially not for you to recoup from being a drunken whore! Okay, maybe you were just a whore NYE, so what there’s work to be done.
So my fellow blogger’s, actors, models, singers, lyricist, artist, etc get up and get your ass to work. WE have a world to take over. Welcome to 2010, make it your year. I know I am!
Peace