Clayton Kinnelon Greiman: Brief Bio
“Over
the period in which each living thing is pronounced “alive,” it is said to
be the same—for example, a man is called the same man from youth to old age,
but in fact he is undergoing a perpetual process of loss and renewal—hair,
flesh, bones, blood, and the whole body are always changing. Which is true not only of the body, but also of the soul,
whose habits, tempers, opinions, desires, pleasures, pains, fears, never remain
the same in any one of us, but are always coming and going.” Plato, “The
Symposium”
Lifelong comic book fan. "Legion of Super-Heroes" is my all-time favorite title. If I had a dream job, it would definitely be scripting comics.
On sex: I've been celibate since October 28, 2005. It's effortless for me to be celibate, because I have no sex drive, and I don't want to have that 'problem' (what I consider a blessing) remedied. The very first instance I had sex, it was due to peer pressure from 'friends' at a gay nightclub. I was taught by these individuals that sex was a requisite of gay life and that it was something fulfilling. It's not; it's just an act whereby others take advantage of you. There is nothing rewarding or beneficial in sexual intercourse. I always viewed sex as a means by which to find some missing part of myself. Over a hundred sexual partners later, all that I have that I didn't have before are cold sores and internal hemorrhoids. I engaged in sexual intercourse because I had no self-confidence, and anytime a man looked my way, I was made to feel as though I was someone and not some invisible entity who existed only as a homosexual slur name or punching bag. I thought in getting horizontal and giving myself to a man that I was being seen by another human being as a whole person. And if they could see me as whole, then maybe I could finally see myself in a similar way. I had been ostracized and made fun of my whole life; I had this noble idea that I would go out into the gay community, and my kind would watch over me. I yearned to belong to a social circle, and sex seemed to be the key to enter the club. I turned that key time and time again, but the problem was that no one stayed in the club. There was no gay 'community'; it was all just a series of random hook-ups. No one wanted a name, a phone number; all they sought was an orifice. I was the micro-waved doughnut hole in the middle of the night when the grocery store was closed and the lube was depleted. Time and time again, I have made the effort to reconnect with the men with whom I have had sexual intercourse, and of the times I have succeeded, every one of them has said, "Why are you calling me?" "How did you find me?" Let me say it now; there will be no more calls; there will be no more sex. I am whole; I don't need a man to supplement my existence, because there is not so much as a millimeter of my soul missing. My mother used to tell me that I fell in love with every man I met, and I corrected her by saying "No, mother, I fall in love with every man with whom I have sex; slight though the difference in quantity may be, there is a difference." That was my trouble, in that whenever I gave myself to a man, I thought he was taking me for all that I was: heart, soul, mind, and body. That is what I was giving him. Everything. And I expected the same in return. I was reared in a Greene County back holler, and if a man slept with a woman, then he was expected to marry her or get an ass full of buckshot. I went out into the gay world with the same belief. Tragically, I left my firearms in the holler and was unable to act on the weapons discharge part of the equation when they all ran for the hills with my calling them 'husband'. Eventually, my naivety was eroded to a point of non-existence, but I continued to have sex, because I did love the men with whom I went to bed. Though some of them were virtually strangers, I loved parts of them. Matt for his French Canadian accent and his athleticism. Rugby for his Louisiana drawl, big pick-up truck, and love of country music. Nathan for being a dancer and for the way he spoke ghetto, drawing the word 'what' out as though it had five syllables. Chad for the manner in which he embraced and lifted me off the ground every time we met. Charles for singing "Coal Miner's Daughter" with me during a meteor shower. Yes, I loved every man with whom I went to bed, and I'm proud to be able to say that. I wish, though, I could say a few of them had loved me.
What makes me seethe: Child abuse and homophobia. I've been the victim of both and thus have no tolerance for either.
The basics: I don't smoke because I'm not weak-willed, and I don't fancy giving money to corporations who are getting rich from killing me. I don't drink because alcohol is a depressant; it merely dulls the pain and does not cure it. I don't do drugs because I'm not a fan of prison life. I don't use swear words when communicating verbally and won't tolerate being around those who do use them. I may come across as a hypocrite because I use such words when writing, but if someone is offended by the language, they can simply stop reading. It's very difficult, unless one is deaf, to escape swear words when they are utilized in a verbal fashion. As for being so anti-drinking and anti-sex, I want my kind to be strong. Promiscuity and drunkenness are the greatest weapons others use against us to justify their homophobia, and they are the weapons we wield most recklessly against ourselves.
When I'm not writing or working or sleeping or eating: I'm swimming my life away. The water is as a conduit of time; when I'm swimming laps, I'm not in the present, I'm in the past or off in a future that can never be, one in which I haven't made so many mistakes. A future wherein I'm laughing with David or Mitch or anyone I have ever loved and lost. Yeah...I swim a lot.
Eating habits: I'm a vegetarian with a rather pronounced sweet tooth.
Height/Weight: 6'0/138 pds.
You'd be surprised to know: That if I ever become independently wealthy,
I'd adopt a son. I'd name him Kal-El (Superman's birth name), because I'd
want him to believe he could do anything in life.