One night my mom attends prayer meeting in the local church. I add that this is the church where the kids in our family all grew up in. Off course due to many reasons I don’t visit this church anymore.

The pastor’s wife… First let me tell a little about the pastor’s wife. Understand that I’m not sharing these thoughts with mind set on gossip or any negative discussion.

She’s been the praise and worship leader since I can remember. For some unknown reason her microphone always had to be the loudest. Aren’t we glad that in God’s eyes it’s not about who can sing… And who can’t? Her three daughters always had to be in charge of the things suited for their ages.

I remember a time a man, who appeared to be homeless, entered the church during praise and worship. He was wearing dirty torn clothes. I recall that good ol’ pastor’s wife went to him, spoke a few words and he left. I’m still not sure what was said to him but I’m sure his appearance… Well there are many houses of God that don’t welcome these appearances.

Over the years I’ve grown a large amount of hatred towards this woman as she is one of the people I believe consider herself too perfect to be human. One always has to understand the impression that she doesn’t make mistakes… She doesn’t fall… She doesn’t have shortcomings. I mean her husband, head pastor, actually went so far as to announce that he doesn’t sin!!??!!??

Despite my hatred I’m still not showing personal aggression towards her. I mean shouldn’t one respect an anointed of God?

I do.

Up until he or she tries to be God.

So during that prayer meeting pastor’s wife announces that a very well known preacher from the United States is building another church on the premises. These premises will now offer two churches to the public. One where everyone will carry on like always, and the other where homosexual people in desiring need of Jesus Christ are welcome.

Pastor’s wife actually went so far as to tell the prayers: “Please pray that this doesn’t happen.”

Yes… ‘What’ was my first response as well.

I understand that she might believe she’s not allowed to approve of homosexuality. I understand that she might consider herself the right hand of God even though she will never be that perfect. I understand that she might consider herself the one that carried Jesus’ load on her shoulders back when he was hammered to the cross.

Yet: Annalize you oversized, extra-large, mammoth, mega, jumbo, huge, gigantic, massively immense, colossal, enormous, gargantuan, anything but tiny bitch, how the fu¢k and in the Name of your God can you pray that He actually shuts the doors of his Home in the faces of those he desires repenting to Him?

Has it ever occurred that your prayers aren’t the only answered ones?

You’re supposed to be the Sheppard of those who crawl to the church’s doors. You’re supposed to be the guider of those who want to know God. You’re supposed to be the leader of those who wish to worship Christ Jesus. You’re supposed to be a fisherman!

Instead you’ll find a fu¢king way to drown the fish, throw gas on the water and set it on fire. Oh you just wanna make sure that those you despise can’t come to Jesus. Aren’t you glad you’re the one He entrusted with the check list at the pearly gates where you yourself will open the gates to those you believe belong in Heaven and show away the ones you can’t stand.

I don’t know what you mean to Christ. Yet to me you are nothing but a overgrown hormonal imbalance.

You make it sound like Christ didn’t even create us.

May it be so that each time you hear about a gay suicide in the past you start eating away at yourself. Don’t worry you’ll be up soon because there’s more than enough of you to feed the entire ocean!

Fellow gay… There are many times I hear of someone who stares into the eyes of sadness because of all the judgment… The remarks… The teasing… The hard journey… Often I hear of someone who doesn’t wish to face another hour only because there have been better days.

Please… Please… Please! Do not let people like the one I despise in this post convince you that you’re fake, unnatural, doomed, already sentenced to hell or unloved. Always remember that God doesn’t have ‘human favorites’ and therefore Jesus Christ took the nails for all of us. SO! IF HE DIDN’T LOVE ME HE WOULDN’T HAVE PAID FOR MY SINS!!!!!

I really hope, Annalize, that one day God doesn’t shut the doors of Heaven in your face because you chose to shut the doors of your church in mine. I don’t know the Grace Christ will show me when one day I stand in front of Him. Yet I pray that He will show you the same mercy He shows me. If you choose to pray that it will be none, then I guess we’ll burn in hell together you nasty bitch!

My thought for today: “In the Bible Jesus told his disciples to be fishermen of men. He NEVER told them to clean the fish. HE will do it HIMSELF in HIS WAY at HIS TIME. Come to God AS YOU ARE! NOT THE WAY ANNALIZE PREFERS YOU!”

 Harlan Z. Maroni.

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Queer Walk Website

Posted: November 4, 2012 in Queer Walk Website, This is Us, Vision

Queer Walk’s official Assertive Gay Rights Activism Website is now active. You can visit the page @ www.queerwalkandtalk.webs.com

Please understand that it is still under design. The page will expand imaginatively.

He’s still my son

Posted: November 1, 2012 in Momma & Me

The news that I was pregnant left me without words. I was so grateful towards God. I promised that I will look after my baby to the best of my abilities… That I will protect him with my own life… And that I wanna give him only the best, no matter at what cost.

Will I ever forget the day my son lay in my arms for the first time? He was mine! I realized that God trusted me with something so precious, so complete… It made me feel small… And at the same time so big.

My whole life circled around Harlan. I tried keeping to my promises… To raise him with the best in me… As a mother I always wanted to be there for him… To feed him whenever hungry… To comfort him whenever he was hurt… To cover him when it was cold… To help him up whenever he fell… I also wanted him to always know that I’m his friend…

It happened without knowing how… Or even when… But we started experiencing our differences… We would argue about everything… He became rebellious… He wouldn’t care breaking any rules! I had to put out fires all the time… Reform the peace… While I wondered where did I go wrong?

As a child he was soft at heart… Quiet… Neat… But he was still a boy. I believed he would marry and have children that can be spoilt by their grandmother… Me.

I always told him that the children that make rude remarks are only jealous… But my child floated away from me farther and farther… I became aware of the fear that I might lose him, pleading him to talk to me.

One morning…

Without words… He put a letter in my hands… “Mom… I’m gay.”

NO! Not my son! I fell down in agony. Not Harlan!

I kept on telling myself that I’m dreaming… I will awake from this nightmare and everything will be fine again… He’s only imagining it… What will I tell my family? What will people say? Everyone judges homosexuality… And… What will God do to my child?!

That night I knelt aside his bed… I listened to his peaceful breathing while he slept… I mourned at God’s feet. Without sound I cried “Why? Why if according to people there isn’t any hope for him? He is my child! What about my dreams for him? The perfect wife? Grandchildren? How can I look at my son at the side of another man? Holding hands… Holding each other.

Then…

I became quiet in a Presence. I realized… My child didn’t change… He’s still the same son that jokes with me… Laughs with me… His arms around my neck still feel the same… His heartbeat against mine is still the same pulse. This is my son! Nothing will change my love for him… No wife… No children… God entrusted him in my womb and I promised that I will be there for him.

It wasn’t always an easy road. Sometimes the acceptance was difficult… Taking it day for day… Made it all worth it and today… Our relationship is exquisite… We share everything…

Whenever I see him holding his lover I see how happy they are… And his happiness is my happiness.

When one day he’s standing in front of the chapel… Watching as his lover walks up to him to promise everlasting cherish… I will most surely stand at his side! God loves me… And praise God, He loves my son.

Psalm 139: 13 – 17: For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I Praise You because I’m fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from You when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts o God! How vast is the sum of them!

He’s still my son.

Johanna E. Maroni.

I’m laughing my a§§ off as I’m writing this post. It seems bloggers that walk this globe with us really pi§§ themselves because gay marriages are actually being legalized in more countries.

So I was bored. I entertain a few minutes in reading opinions on same sex marriages. My, oh my, how these people wish we were stoned. I am extremely sarcastic when I say if bitterness could fight global warming we would’ve been living in another ice age today.

The minute I heard that same sex marriage will be legalized in my country I was astounded and at the same time assured of hope for better life for me. Finally my marriage will be recognized.

What always pi§§es me off the most is that people don’t just wanna stone us, they wanna stone us with Christ. As if He wasn’t treated brutal enough back on the cross they wanna toss Him around as if He actually fits in our hands and not we in his.

We always need to hear that it’s vicious to fall in the hands of A Living God, and yes, because the Bible encloses this quote, I believe it to be true. I’m just brought the wonder if these people are aware that we’ll all fall in the Same Pair of Hands.

Yes people! God isn’t gonna judge only me. He’s gonna judge ALL of us by ALL of OUR wrongdoings. This includes role play. [When I mention role play I’m referring to those who play Christ.]

Please, you person in poor knowledge of mankind tell me what earth looks from up above, at God’s right hand side. You must really feel flattered because you already walked the golden streets… Or because you already saw the flowers dancing to the music of the angel choirs. You must feel so special because you’re one of God’s favorites.

Wake up you ill piece of mind!

God doesn’t have favorites. Jesus didn’t think of only you when He was hammered to the wood! Christ didn’t become Man so that only you can live! He didn’t ask for our forgiveness so that only you can be pure!

In fact…

If you were without sin right from the start it wouldn’t even have been necessary for Jesus Christ to become the Son of Man because then you could’ve been crucified so all of us can be forgiven for aggressions and trespasses.

These people make it sound like it’s them we’re trespassing against. Everyone has become so caught up with the guidelines of the Bible that they’ve forgotten Who It’s actually about.

Remember that day Jesus was hanging on the cross? He shouted: “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

He wasn’t just talking about me, my fellow human. He was referring to you as well… Because He knew that someday, some where… Probably a lot you would screw up a great deal. Especially that day you wanna start judging.

I do love weddings. I do love same sex marriages. Especially mine!

My thought for today: “If a person wants to play Jesus Christ, he should be willing to stretch his arms on a wooden cross and pay for my sins, not judge them.”

Harlan Z. Maroni.

In the month of breast cancer

Posted: October 30, 2012 in This is Us

As we come closer to the end of October I wonder what the month of breast cancer is actually all about.

Since I became aware that this month serves a positive attitude towards cancer I understood that campaigners take part in walks in honor of the fight against cancer. Glasses are raised for those who overcame the struggle. Funds are raised for improved research to bring a hopeful end to this big battle.

I was at a very young age when my grandmother passed away after falling into the diagnosis’s hands. I wasn’t all that part in the sadness those who walked at her side shared. I remember standing aside her coffin as it was lowered. My stepfather told me to drop the petals on the coffin and greet her one last time. I guess the only thing I was sure of was that I will never see her again in this lifetime.

Understanding, today, what cancer is all about I feel that some people really walk extra miles to turn this suffering into a precious and encouraging walk to cancer-freedom ensuring people that tomorrow can be faced and more importantly, conquered.

After attending some events against cancer I noticed that it isn’t the hope for complete cure that brings a smile to the faces of hostesses. It wasn’t a large amount of people who came together for a march that had everyone in ecstasy. It wasn’t the raised glasses… Or the raised voices yelling hopeful expressions… But with a comment such as “bring the money to us” I learned that it was rather the raised funds that have campaigners dance.

It really isn’t any of my business how the funds are handled. I just wish to express that it would be extremely morally wrong, depraved and corrupt to take someone’s money with the promise of a life changing trade and then actually run off with the sum to buy that new pair of shoes she’s been waiting for all this time.

It’s almost the same as those who stand at intersections asking for money because they claim they’re blind and later… When nobody’s looking they count the money with their own eyes.

This post really doesn’t serve as aggression to anyone who might make fools of people while hiding behind a campaign.

Today we have campaigns of all kinds. We have worldwide aids day. We have the fights against hunger and poverty. We have those who devote to the freedom of abused and misused women and children. We have the walks against elderly disabilities. Heck in my country we have had so many protests over the last periods of time I don’t even know what they all stand for anymore.

I just wish I could understand why I am not aware of any campaigns against the physical and emotional abuse on a gay man, a gay woman or a gay teenager. Why don’t I know of any devoted fighter who wants to bring an end to all the murders on a homosexual being? Keep in mind that the reason for the murder was his or her sexuality. If someone was to reason that he doesn’t like a person with a physical disease he can just shoot the person to death, it would be wrong.

But let’s not care about the gay who was run over by a car because the driver saw him kissing another man. Let’s not worry about the gay whose intellect was scraped off of the lounge’s walls because a father cold bloodily ripped out the pistol. Let’s not be concerned about the gay who was stabbed so brutally we don’t even know where to start looking for all of his insides on this dark road. It must be here somewhere though. Let’s not even bother cutting the rope that hangs teenager from the roof. He made the easier choice. He had it coming anyway as he was about to admit his homosexuality to his father. Let’s just not give a damn at all. Animals of strange species should be kept in laboratories where we can perform research on the strange behavioral mindsets and sexual preferences. No need to worry about fundraising for these… We can just wait until one day we might have pennies lying around that we can waste.

Does anyone understand my reason?

Women, in some cases even men, who face breast cancer can put on a television and see an ad that tells them where they can look for help.

A person who supports a parent with Alzheimer can drive to work and hear an ad on the radio that will guide their way to a support group.

People with drunken habits, misuse of drugs and smokers who desire to quit can attend AA meetings.

People can attend a fancy dress ball where the speaker will have so much advice on HIV Aids, and how to live the disease, or someone who has been diagnosed with the disease that afterwards the guests would know so much it would be as if they attended medical school.

But what about the man who doesn’t wish to face another day because it’s been a while without the father that disinherited him?

What about the woman who can’t stop crying anymore because her mother refuses to talk to her?

What about the teenager who wakes up, lies on his bed the whole day staring at the ceiling? Wondering… How he will admit his homosexuality to his parents… But in the end… Enters the bathroom and takes out the razor.

What about the teenager who refuses to go to school because he’s tired of coming home with bruises?

Where do all of these go? Where will they read about support? Where will they bump into some add on a lamppost? What television channel will assure them of a better tomorrow? Of a positive attitude towards homosexuality? Of a fight against physical and emotional abuse? Of glasses that are raised for those who overcame the struggle of being trapped in a closet? Funds that are raised to build homes for those who are no longer welcome in their own? That people walk extra miles to turn this suffering into a precious and encouraging walk to homo-freedom ensuring people that tomorrow can be faced and more importantly, conquered?

My thought for today: “People that consider homosexuality a disease should be willing to campaign for a better tomorrow for those who were diagnosed with it!”

Harlan Z. Maroni

Gay man’s paradise

Posted: October 30, 2012 in This is Us

What is it about a gay image consultant that just sweeps a woman off of her feet?

So I’m sitting here in gay man’s paradise on October 29, 2012. It’s a top to toe fashion show in a lodge with endless Niles of waters beautiful evening lights that guide your way to your seat. I am surrounded by such an amount of flowers and so I am sure that it’s not perfume I smell. This is nature in one of its most beautiful forms.

From outside I see hair that touches the roof of the rooms entered. Make up is done so extremely well if it were to appear on a screen it would tell a story the best animated artist never could.

Music makes me wish that it was Friday all over again. There are dancing DJ’s holding headphones to the ear with one hand while expressing the rhythms in their dancing moves… Smiling. There are live bands and lights by the many colors.

Picture the guests in formal dress. See the waiters serving them with those shiny round platters. Hear the sparkling wine that almost fill the glasses and for those single ones… Topless models covered in colorful body paint.

This happens an almost endless amount of times round about Pride month all over in South-Africa… And this time of year makes me remember just how exquisitely unique the gay man is.

While staring at the candlelight outside and listening to the jazz band I remember the number of occasions I would hear a woman say: “A gay man’s creativity is all the more originally acclaimed, recognized and respected.

By professional experience I should add from my side that I have learned to value the arts of a woman as there is the sum who expresses themselves very delicately and elegantly.

Still I enjoy this compliment towards the gay man whenever mentioned because it reminds me that behind all the sarcastic rude behavior towards the homosexual we are here with great creative purpose and without us the world would stand completely still.

This is the reason why you would often hear a gay man talk to himself because all of us know that sometimes all of us need counsel from a skilled, professional connoisseur.

Being an consultant in beauty myself I enjoy listening to the women that remind my mother how lucky they consider her to have a homosexual son who can make her more beautiful whenever mother and son feel like playing.

I would always consider my mother my most important, most considerate, most generous and most significantly also my most beautiful client. She has a son who can tell her how beautiful she is and also an older son who can show her how beautiful she is.

My reason for this post is this: A gay man might wake up to a day he isn’t looking forward to. He might get into a car he doesn’t really feel like driving. If unhappy in his career he might head off to a profession he doesn’t feel practicing. On his way to work he might think of an argument with his parent about his sexuality he doesn’t really wish to remember. He might come home to an empty apartment without the friends who chose not to support and respect his choice to love the same sex.

YET…

Whenever the sun sets and evening lights come out… Whenever the day makes way for the night. Whenever the doors of work close so that the doors of entertainment can open… Whenever the desk makes way for a mixer… Whenever a reception stands aside for a dance floor… Whenever the office allows the ramp to step up… He knows that he created this evening everyone else marries tonight!

My thought for today: “If the gay weren’t there to walk the day… The straight wouldn’t have been all that able to paint the night.”

Harlan Z. Maroni.

He’s beautiful… He’s still young… He has such a becoming personality… He’s always very generous with his compliments. I’m always so proud to introduce him as the most important man in my life…

He’s on the sofa… Next to me… He’s asleep… So peaceful.

I hear his still, undisturbed breathing. I see his chest lightly bounce back after each breath it lies down.

His black hair glimmers in the light… His earring shimmers in the glow… It always looks so breathtaking when his hair waves down into his face…

His one leg is folded over the other as if lying on calm ocean waters… His hand is underneath his chin… And because he always knows what to say… Tomorrow… He will most probably tell me that he’s dreaming about me right now.

I would carry him to the bed… But he will wake anyway. And I know that when later… I say goodnight… It’s been a good day… All because he walked it at my side.

Behind every writer… Should be an extremely good reader. One to smile… And say “You’ve outdone yourself again love.”

I might not always have had the time of my life… But I have the lover of a lifetime. Because there is only one of him… There can’t be a better!

I consider words my biggest talent from Christ Jesus… Yet even words will never be able to explain just how much he means to me… And just how much more I devote to him with unconditional love.

You’re the other half of my world Juana… And for that reason I can call it whole.

I love you more than all the words I’ve expressed on paper.. Multiplied with all the words I’ve expressed on paper… Times all the words I’ve expressed on paper.