Dum spiro, spero.

I am often afraid my professional life is over. In Poland where age discrimination is as normal everyday occurence as breathing I do not have too many chances. Although as an actor and singer I may have some good luck. I know I have to chase my chances. In few minutes I am going to call an agency and set an appointment for the audition….

Andreas did not call and did not come last night. I expected this. I promised myslef I am not going to take this boy seriously anymore. He is losing the rest of my respect. Why does he do it?
If he comes again I am going to talk to him about us and what this is all about. I have a hunch why he behaves the way he does but I am not 100% sure yet. Thinking about my future conversation with him I am not so sure if any positive outcome is possible. He may want to push the subject away, and as far as I now him, he might say that he does not care or that it was I who created the problem.
But I can’t let it go the way it is. I have to confront him about our relationship and find out how does he see it. However, I do not expect him soon in my house. To be frank, I do not care if he comes or not. I must calm myself down in order to get rid of my psoriasis. I have to detoxify myself physically and mentally in order to stay away from this scourge. People with toxic attitudes like my bitch mother and Andreas do not help at all. I must focus on myself and move on.

I did it! I called the agent and set up my audition on Thursday at 1 pm. He informed me what they expect from me and those things are:

1. They are going to take some pictures of me
2. They are going to tape record me while I am talking about myself.
3. They are going to ask me to improvise a scene while some “director” will watch me perform.

It is not too much. I am a bit surprised but ok. If I am going to have a professional agent who is going to take care of my career that is what I wanted. I do not have to pay them any fees. This is good news for me for I do not have any money. None, zilch, zip, nada. Until this Friday I am not going to have any doe. I just went to buy 4 lbs of potatoes and 2 peaches and I run out of money.
How I am going to go to the audition if I do not have any money for a bus?
Oh well, my sister will help. I am sure of it.

Anyway, I am not jumping from joy yet. It is just one auditions for my prospective agent. I know I can do a lot ad I know they may get a lot of money out of my contracts if they find me a lot of work. I am sure I am good and I can generate a lot of doe for myself and for them. So…let’s do it!!!

No, I do not want him around anymore. I was able to tolerate his antics for a while but not anymore. I can’t take his sick friendship and pretend all is fine. I have to get away from him and start focusing on my career. Nothing else I can do. I won't change him.
No more friends. No more friends of this sort. I can’t tolerate losers like Szymon N. or Marek O. or even Andreas, who can be like one of the most vicious faggs I have ever met in my life. Marek O. is a guy who told the story about my HIV. Last night I found out that he told the story to a guy one week after I told him about it asking for confidentiality. Szymon N. is a so called gay activist who never did anything useful in his life and today, being almost 30, lives off his mother’s income and from the lack of better activities he gossips all the time.

No, I do not want him around anymore. I was able tolerate his antics for a while but not anymore. I can’t take his sick friendship and pretend all is fine. It is not and it won’t be anymore.
I have to get away from him and start focusing on my career. Nothing else I can do.
No more friends. No more friends of this sort. I can’t tolerate losers like Szymon N. or Marek O. who are one of the most vicious faggs I have ever met in my life. Marek O. is a guy who told the story about my HIV. Last night I found out that he told the story to a guy one week after I told him about it asking for confidentiality. Szymon N. is a so called gay activist who never did anything useful in his life and today, being almost 30, lives off his mother’s income and gossips all the time.

Andreas did not come yesterday. He is a 25 years old child. Although I don’t blame him for not coming. He's got his new car from his employer and I am sure he drove around in it like a nut. Besides that his office is moving to the suburbs of Warsaw and he has to move his stuff there.
And there is Adam…I must tolerate this little squirt until the end of August. I am intending to do so without showing Andreas my disdain for this teenage creep.

They have learned what I got and some of them could not contain themselves from spreading the news.
Marek is the one who first opened his big mouth. I know cuz it was he who knew first about me. I tested his loyalty, he failed the test, and now I know who he really is.

As I said I am not afraid of it at all. I am convinced that my friends should know about it and I should not keep any secrets from them. Besides, they are gay and lesbians…Well…they shouldn’t be the one who condemn me for this. However, this is Poland and one can never be sure what may happen in this backwater country of European Union.
Even gays may become hostile.
Poland is such backward a place one can become terrified as soon as the Poles show their true colors.
These people resemble a primitive tribe in the Jungle of Amazon or somewhere in the African bush where being different from the crowd makes one the instant enemy worthy of death.
Gays in Poland aren’t different from the rest of the Polish population. Some of them scream bloody murder when the issue of sex orientation discrimination pops up but they discriminate as much as the others and can’t see it.
So far nobody turned his back on me. I am sure that Peter knows because he is very close to Marek. I also know that Camilla knows too and if Camilla knows everybody around her knows as well and so far nobody reacted negatively. I am still very popular among them and among other gay people. After all I am the one of the best singers in Warsaw if not in Poland and I am gay too.
I do not know what to tell Tom?
Should I tell him that I have HIV or not? No, first I must find out what they think about men with HIV.Oooh, to thell with it, I am going to tell them. If they have a problem with it this is their problem, not mine.

I quit smoking cigarettes. Today is 7th day since I stopped. Alcohol is out too. Today is 16th day since I stopped. I can’t go back to it and won’t go back to it.
I was trying to sing yesterday. Since I do not smoke and drink my voice is getting clearer. I do not like it. When I drink alcohol my voice is just the way I want it to be. I’ll have to practice and make it a bit harder to get. Well, I know what does it mean, you must find out when I record my songs.

My gas boiler broke. I turned it off yesterday and I can’t fire it up again. I do not know what to do? I have no warm water in my house.
Shit!
I called the man who may know something about it but I have no idea when he’ll call me back. He might be on vacation.

Oh my. I didn’t write in here for such a long time. Well, I was in the hospital. I was very, very sick and, as a matter of fact, I still am.
However, my illness, according to Professor Doctor of Medical Science who treated me, is now in such stage I can be treated in outpatient clinic.

While at the hospital I wrote my journal, which I am intending to include in this blog. My experience in a Polish hospital is one of the most horrifying experiences I have ever had.
This must be included in the blog because all the people who would like to come to Poland, and happened to read my blog beforehand, have to know that getting sick in Poland does not pay. Moreover is even very dangerous to one’s health.
I must admit, the doctor mentioned above, whose name is DR. Ewa Maciejowska PhD is absolutely one of the best dermatologists I have ever met during my long battle with psoriasis, but the rest of the staff is just one terrifying bunch of people. Especially nurses. The whole hospital as a building too.
An old filthy building, which wasn’t renovated for at least last 40 or 50 years, with sanitary conditions resembling 17th century American infirmaries.
Horrific place for a person with weakened immune system who is prone to opportunistic infections. It is also horrific to anyone who is accustomed to civilized places, which in America we call hospitals.
Of course I got me an opportunistic infection on the second day there. Strep throat, which when I alarmed my young female doctor about, I have got ignored and treated not with medication but with an attitude of insulted queen.
Unfortunately Polish doctors and especially young doctors, who just graduated from medical school, think they are enormous, special gift from God to the human kind and any patient who opens his/her mouth to them not being asked to do so must be ignored and treated with an attitude.
So, while my psoriasis has been treated my strep throat stayed untreated until I developed fever of 102.4 F. Then the young female doctor noticed that something is wrong. No, she did not notice, it was I who forced her to notice.

The nurses there were not better either. Ignorant, arrogant, deprived of basic ethics and knowledge. There were two registered nurses who did not know how to take blood pressure using normal, good old sphygmomanometer. They did not bring needed medication, which has been prescribed by the doctors. We had to go to them to remind them that they made mistake not bringing the important pill or two at the time it has been prescribed to be given. They slept at night even though they knew there are no bells in the patient rooms and they should make rounds to see if all their patients are fine.

Equipment in this place was so out of time when I saw it I was ready to run for my life. Mattresses on the beds on which we, patients, supposed to sleep, where so greasy from filth I was ready to vomit when I saw it. I had to bring my own linen from home to be able to sleep in this incredibly terrifying place.
Food is indescribable to those who do not know the stories from the Nazi concentration camps. Generally breakfast and supper consisted of 5 slices of bread and one grain of margarine, occasionally with one or two slices of an old kielbasa, which I a guy with immunodeficiency problems did not want to touch with a 10 foot pole. Every patient had his own silverware given to him up on arrival. After each meal we were washing it in lukewarm water in the aforementioned bathroom where there was no dishwashing liquid and water was always cold.
One bathroom in the wing where 20 men were crowded in 3 rooms…One bathtub and one shower…
No television, no radio, no possibility to buy newspapers. Patients who smoked were able to do so inside of the unit. Patients who liked to drink alcohol did not have any problems in purchasing it.
Well, OK, I should not care about the others, but trust me, such atmosphere of total neglecting takes its toll on those patients who want to get cured or at least want be treated to make their disease subside.

I have also learned that the knowledge of Polish dermatologists about HIV induced psoriasis is non existent. These few young doctors on my unit, unfortunately all female, did not know anything about it and I had to instruct them about my predicament and the treatment I was on since 1999.

I despise my parents. I despise them so much, that I can’t even say I respect them because they gave me life. No, they did not give me my life. I don’t know who gave me my life? Not them. Was it God? If it was some God I do not know why?
Why did he want to make me suffer? Why did he want me to feel the pain from the very first moment I started recognizing the voices of the members of my family?

Thank to my parents I never felt loved. Thank to their failed efforts I know what does it mean to hate. I never hated, they did. Now I am paying them back. My father is dead so I can’t tell him how much I hate him. However, I guess, he must have known. I remember he once told me that he knows how bad a father he was to me. At least this monster realized that, but it was too late to forgive him.
My mother must know how much I hate her because I managed to tell her. I don’t even know whom I hate more? Her or him? Both deserve all the hate I can muster in me. I will die with hate in my heart. People say it is not right to die and to hate. I care less. I can’t think about hell any other way but with cheers. If I must go there it must be much better than this Earth on which I was forced to live for so long. I do not know where my father is and my mother will go? I am sure I do not want to meet them again, if afterlife exists?

There are bad people on Earth and there are worse people than my parents were but I do not care about the other people. Those who were chosen to be my parents squandered the chance and I hope they got punished with all the severity.

I am tired. I can’t write anymore right now. My depression is too heavy to handle. I must go to bed and try to fall asleep. The only state of my being which allows me to quench suffering.
I want to talk myself to death, like Tibetan monks who can do it. Oh well, I just do what I have to do. The most important think is to psych myself to it.

I know when I lost. It happend in August of 1980 when I decided to stay with Marc. As some wise man said, "the worst mortal sin is not to use a talent God has given you." When I met Marc I dropped ma career on stage in Poland to be with him.
Oh well, this is a story which can't be told over and over again. I am done and do not want to live anymore.

My Sister called, and again, she wants to help me with money. I really do not want any help from her because she is helping me constantly.
I feel like a begger but I never asked her for anything. She just calls or comes and tells me that I need it so she is going to help me.

I can't live like that anymore, I should not live anymore. I am not a person who deserves to live. I can't struggle and by doing it make others miserable. I am making my Sister miserable in spite of her claims that this is not true.

I am sick since 1994. I was in very bad shape. I was on zero T-cells from January of 1994 until May of 1999. My viral load in May of 1999 was 175.000, I was fighting psoriasis and Kaposi Sarcoma. I beat Kaposi after my docotor gave me kaletra with epivir, siagen and sustiva. Previsoulsy my virus got immune to every single antiviral medicine available and I wasn't taking anything.
When in May of 1999 I got infected by MRSA my T-cell count was 2 and viral load was 165000. I survived. Why did I survive?
In February of 2000, just 10 months before my father's death, I got nasty sinus infection. Went to my hospital Illinois Masonic in Chicago where I went through two surgeries to clean infected sinus. It wasn't all. After two surgeries on my sinus I got bowel obstruction and spend anther 5 weeks in the hospital. I was on the verge of death when my surgery was done and I refused to wake up. I was on respirator and I survived. Why did I live?
I do not know how to live anyway. I am a human wreck which can't go on like this anymore. I can't live without love. But it seemed to be OK when I moved to Poland until HE came into my life. You know the story.

I love him and he knows it. I love him and I told him about my feelings. Just two days ago he said the same. He whispered in my ear, I love you. I know how he meant it. It wasn't love typical love. He did not desire me sexually but I meant a lot to him. At least he told me about it with these 3 words.
Now I really don't know what to do?
Now I am really afraid about my decision I will have to make. It is the final decision.
I have lived my life as long as I had to, I guess...Now it's time to say enough.

I am scared. I am still thinking about the moment I will have to take all these pills. How will I behave when I swallow all of them? What will I think and how soon I will fall asleep? What kind of dreams I will have before I take my last breath? I am really afraid. Well, I am scared because I love life and still hope for something good. I know, nothing good will come but, like an idiot, I am still hoping.
He is gone. I talked to him two hours ago. I have this strange feeling that he is not stable mentally. His bizarre stories which I had to listen to and in which I could hardly believe made me think about his mental stability. Don't get me wrong. I love him and I will love him until I will die, but I have this incredible sense of bizarreness in all the stories He told me.
The stories about the German guy He was in love with couple of years ago and His schooling in Germany when his German language is more than broken...His German citizenship and his experience as a co-owner of the gay sex night clubs in Halle, Germany...All of it made me think about His mental capacities. I do not know if he really wanted to boost his low self esteem by telling me these stories? Did he think I am going to look at him more favorable if he will keep telling me all these stories?...Yes, I think those were just His stories invented by him to impress me. I love him anyway. I don‘t care what he was lying about. I care less!!!
And when I will be going away I will be going thinking about HIM, LOVING HIM and forgiving Him.

Before I go I have to make peace with myself. Perhaps I will summarize my life which was one long rode full of pain.
Why could not I be happy? Why all my life was one long wait for seconds of happiness and the rest was filled with enormous pain and loneliness?
I see happy people. I see they are loved and I see they can smile. I can't.

My psoriasis is getting more and more serious. Tonight He and I talked about me going to a hospital for treatment. It might be necessary soon. I hate Polish hospitals!
For second month in the row I am having financial problems. This month I won't have money for rent. I do not want to ask my Sister for help. She helped me enough already.

I love life so much. I'd like to be in the center of it so very much, but in the world as bad as it is, I will have to finish myself.
I'd never thought I will be suffering because I can't get myself stupid 400 dollars to fix my financial problems. What can I do to make it?
Nothing. Being of my age means I am dead for those in Poland who decide who is going to live or die, who is going to get a job and who is not.
I love life and I can't live any longer.
Now, the problem is the way to off myself? It must be totally painless.
Well, pills or an injections would be painless.
I am going to find certain pills or certain shot to get over wit it as soon as possible.