No one is healed and no one fully conquers their demons. The fact that the filmmakers make you root for them is a testament to a vexing main character you grow to love and admire.


No one is healed and no one fully conquers their demons. The fact that the filmmakers make you root for them is a testament to a vexing main character you grow to love and admire.

I believe a lot more people could be open about their HIV status, and their only reason for not doing so is fear.

I had to create a video in my own peculiar way — something that demonstrates the sense of humor that has served me well over the course of 30 years living with HIV.

The film is either a transgressive act of eroticism, or an act that demonstrates how to become infected with HIV. Or perhaps both.

These guys must be getting the hang of this, because we discussed and revealed things like never before. From crystal meth addiction to our mothers, nothing was off limits.

I would hear other gay men make disparaging remarks about drag and I withered, unable to admit I was playing to a packed room every Sunday.

I knew about assisted suicide but had never heard of the mechanics of it firsthand… or had witnessed the haunted result like the one that now sat chain smoking across my living room.

You haven’t lived until you have hosted a game show in a cemetery. Or heard behind-the-scenes tales of some juicy grave site mysteries.

We heard wheels, barely squeaking across tile floors, rolling out of the master bedroom toward the front door. A heavy door opened and then closed. I wanted to pull the shades wide open and see for myself, and I didn’t dare.

One can easily connect the dots between the activists shown in the Oscar nominated documentary “How to Survive a Plague” and these treatment advocates trying to take HIV research across the finish line.

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