ALZMEK

In My Defense: The Unauthorized Memoir

Mon, 10 Mar 2008 05:54:17 +0000

The voices in my head are taunting me until the wee hours of the night. I try to sleep, but something is keeping me up. My mind is wandering and my soul is unsettled (Yes, I have one). I am grasping every inch of my sanity not to find the man behind the words, the words that are allegedly exposing me.

I feel violated, betrayed and sold out. The pages of a fictional memoir, an unauthorized biography that claims to know about my secret underground lifestyle. A tale that makes me, the glamorous and ultra-fabulous Sebastian Alzmek, look like a home wreaker. A vial and disgusting creature that performs lewd acts of indecency, as far as to call me a murderer.

This is the reason why I let not one soul into my inner circle. Why I surround myself with pseudo friends and acquaintances. I trust no one. This is a dog eat dog world and everyone in this life wants what they do not have. Fortunately, I am on top of the food-chain and plan to retaliate the very core of what I am accused of doing.
This unauthorized biography of my extraordinary life is set to come out on April 3, 2008 by Starbooks Press. I have agreed to do an exclusive personal interview with one of this country’s most notorious journalists. I will set the record straight, and for the first time you will have a glimpse inside of my mind, my life and me in the flesh. The cover of this tragedy is not even me… I would never hold another man, or person, in public, showing public display of affections.
I have a flawless reputation and my image is everything.

This is nothing more than a modern day witch hunt, a crucifixion of my accomplishments. I am loathed for being successful. I am even more hated for being beautiful, but I am not personally responsible for your sad life. I did not shove hamburgers down your throat, I did not make you take a minimum wage job and I certainly did not rape you. Every single one of you who fell in my trap was fully informed of who I, Sebastian, Am. I did not promise you love, let alone a sunrise.
Go after the people and clinics that reuse syringes and vials of medication. Go after the people who transport the virus on their dirty fecal covered hands. The men and women who serve you food after not washing their hands in your favorite resturant. Worry about what you touch, where you put your hands and not me.

The book gives me way too much credit for something I have little control over. The control is yours. Carry a condom, get off your knees, get a real job and stop shoving shit down your throat.
Your perception is your reality, but you have to be able to view it clearly. Look in the mirror and decide who is worse? Me for keeping my status“private”, or you for not asking.

C'est La Vie

Another Day: Another Victim

Sat, 23 Feb 2008 03:40:33 +0000

Every single time I meet someone new I ask myself the same question: “Will this one be different?” Will this be the one who breaks the cycle? Have we learned nothing as a community in almost thirty years?

Since I began my reign as the grim reaper only one, yes one (1), person has pulled out a condom and one other asked if I was positive (I assumed he meant if I was happy) so I replied “No”. I was having a bad day and at the time it seemed like an odd question since we were about to go at it, I mean, God forbid I or anyone else lie. After all we did meet over three hours ago online and had a real “connection” (if that’s what you want to call it).

This new guy was fun. I met him while shopping at my Alma Martyr, Neiman Marcus. I was in the dressing room trying on a fabulous Gucci shirt and a few other new arrivals and he walked into my dressing room by “accident”. I usually do not try on clothes, but the shirt was a size 16, which in Gucci lingo means my chest might not fit (for some reason these designers make “A” line shirts, and I am a “V”, must be an Italian thing, Northern I’m sure).

I guess it did not help that I left the door ajar and my pants were off. Twenty minutes later (and keeping my personal shopper out of the room) it was over. It wasn’t a difficult task, I am a Black In-Circle Member and the VIP dressing suites are in the formal wear department.

It was very raw. We had to go old school… I was just glad I was hungry (helps with the salivation) and other than shoving his face into a Dolce & Gabbana Jacket a few times (I hate moaners) everything was just peachy. A sticky undershirt (his) and 3,200.00 later it was all over. It was different, unique. There was no need for the introduction, the smiles and that “Interested” look which I despise so (You know, looking at them like you’re interested or they are interesting). Although the world is my stage, I hate acting sometimes.

Another member added to the roster of my growing clan of the undead. He was guaranteed a ticket (the absence of lube). It was very prison break, OZ chic… very exciting in a nasty, cell block 32 sort of way.

Well, another day, another victim: # 329 (since 2000)

New Year: New Victim

Tue, 01 Jan 2008 23:13:41 +0000

My Best Year Ever

I walked out to my balcony and stared at the beautiful night view. A view of San Francisco, a city where you could see the stars shine in the sky so bright they light up the entire hillside.

I look up above and wonder if you could tell which one of the trillion lights in the sky I extinguished tonight? How many more souls are waiting for me, waiting to be ruined by me? How many more “stars” exist in this city, in this country, in this world. As I take a drink of my merlot I toast the sky above and smile.
I have to say, I give myself way too much credit for all this madness. I am not the only one responsible for their demise.
I am not responsible for David’s; I mean Dean’s, Darrell’s, Dick’s… Oh, what’s his name’s life who just walked out of my front door? I am surprised I remember that his name began with a “D.” I rarely ask for a name, I mean, beside the formality of introduction. In fact, ambiguity is highly encouraged and much desired.
He was an easy target. It was a Monday night and I did not feel like working on him too much. On the other hand, he was very handsome and it was New Years Eve. The feeling was mutual, as usual; I am drop dead gorgeous and totally irresistible. My beauty just took his breath away… literally. My eyes ignited his every fantasy. We were two hot bodies that were electrified and joined together as one, bound together by the heat of attraction.
As I walked by I heard his heart skip a beat,his body was saying yes, yes to my stare, that glare that takes over your body. He swore he was with friends and was only in town until the sun rose at 11:00am (At least that’s when my sun rises), but somehow that did not matter after my lips touched his.
He was mine from the second I looked at him from across the room and smiled, walked away and came back a few minutes later for the kill. He is some sort of executive for a pharmaceutical company based in Atlanta, ironic really. One of the men who is perhaps responsible for enabling me to look this amazing, yet equally responsible for not taking away this death sentence permanently.
Perhaps when he finds out he is now HIV positive he will push for more private funding to find a cure. He might even turn over a new leaf and sacrifice profit for advancement…Oh please, who am I kidding? He will die before there is a cure, or release the current one (wink).
He was very well built and had that useless, seductive look to him. That “Just here for a drink” look, yet somehow was still at the bar at 10:00pm. I could see why he would be intimidating to most men. He was well dressed, wearing a generic Gucci suit, last season, and a Girard-Perregaux Chronograph Laureato EVO3.
Most BF’s (Basic Fags) would overlook the $50,000 watch as just another wrist watch, but not I. You could tell a lot by the watch a man wears. A Rolex, Cartier and Bvlgari are obvious and only display their desperation for attention, especially the lower end oysters and, gasp! Pasha. This watch screamed his underlying wealth and net worth, which in turn called out my name.
I myself am a very wealthy man and I have zero intentions on keeping him, yet the thought of shortening a valuable life gets me off. I mean really, what’s the point of infecting the pizza delivery guy or a waiter? The richer and handsomer the man or woman is, the more exhilarating the act.
As soon as we entered my palace we headed straight for my bedroom, or so he thought. I always make sure to take my new inductees into the guest room for their initiation. I might dose off and have them snooping through my personal things when I am not available for consultation. This way we are in a sterile environment where I could throw them around and make them into one of the undead, then in the morning Lucia could clean up the mess.
I still get flashbacks of us rolling around on the hardwood floors as I pushed him against the wall and made him moan in pleasure. It is always these executive types who liked to be manhandled, they like being treated like a subservient while unleashing their inner bitch.
He should be in the air at I write, mid-flight to Atlanta. In between the same clouds he thought he could touch last night. The same clouds which cradled him to sleep in my arms. He was very affectionate and wanted to cuddle and kiss after his death. I appeased his desires to be affectionate, I too loved him. At least I did for the five hours he was here. Five hours, five minutes or five years, a love lost is a love lost, it hurts just the same.
I mean in his mind.
He will test positive in five years, die five months later and six-feet under five days later. I should have kept his address and phone number, I would have just died to know the outcome. The older I get, the more I want to know. I want to know how many more men and women he infected, or is “dating” or “dated” after me, and how many people his loves dated/infected etc. I just loved math in school, one of my favorite subjects. The only real useful one, at least the only one I use today.
He is number 311.
I feel so alive this morning. I feel like my contribution to this cause is getting more relevant. Imagine, if the same people I infected were just half as active as I am (which is about once a week on average in the past seven years) that would be over 48,000 new infections in seven years, courtesy of little old fabulous me.
Now, if those same men and women were half as active, that would be… Well, astronomical! This is why the world will never stop the transmission of HIV/AIDS. Just one of me could hurt tens of thousands of people in just a few years… out of hand.
See why I like math.
Oh well, I should stop contemplating the numbers, I might get a headache. Besides, one of my New Years resolutions is to travel more and aim for higher numbers. My deal with “red” expires in 4 years and I am behind schedule. I promised him one million souls by then, although in succession I think I could safely say “Mission Accomplished,” but just in case there is something in the fine print, I am not taking any chances.
Smooches,
Sebastian

Do you know who I am?

Fri, 26 Oct 2007 04:23:54 +0000

Allow me to introduce myself…

My name is Sebastian, Sebastian Alzmek, and I will be that new song that plays in your heart. Those crazy, sophisticated and beautiful melodies that will hypnotize you the instant your eyes meet the mirror into my soul. At least the place my soul used to occupy.

I will meet you and smile. The reflection you see in my dazzling grin will make you feel extraordinary. I will make you feel higher than the sky. You will be so elevated that you will swear you could fly. I will be your every fantasy. I will be the figment of your imagination. A manifestation of your dreams and desires, everything you ever wanted, and more.

I am you. I am everything you ever wanted. Everything you desire.

One day we will cross paths on the street, in a train, at a red light. You my friend are one of the fortunate ones. You will have an opportunity to be mesmerized by my aura and I might even wink at you, provoking your mind. I will make you want to reach across the room and scream my name, a name you have yet to hear. A name you will want to know.

For those less fortunate souls, we will see each other in a nightclub, a bar or on the technological superhighways of the internet, my proverbial street corner. When we cross paths you will have the opportunity to touch me, feel me and inhale the essence of Sebastian. The scent will usurp every fantasy in your mind. It will be Love at first sight. At least it will be for you. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I will love you too. At least I will for that hour or two before I take away your self-worth. The instant before I steal the sparkle in your eyes.

When I take your breath way, literally…

I will crush whatever self-respect you have left for yourself when you realize that everything I told you was as true as the smile that lured you in. Everything was a lie. A fairy tale you thought would come true the instant you saw my castle. My European magic carpet you wanted to a maneuver through time. The imaginary moment in time that reflected on a shinny Roadster that took you for a ride.

I will answer all your questions as I tell you nothing.

I will touch you without feeling a single thing.

You are nothing.

Meeting me will change your fortune, or in this case, your misfortune. You will never be the same person. In fact, you will no longer be a person. You will be defined by a condition. A disease that will mark you for the rest of your life as a second class citizen, dirt, scum and mud will be on your new found level of social acceptance. That is if you are lucky.

If you’re one of the unfortunate souls walking this earth with out a clue, and let me tell you, there are many of you, you will discover your new condition when it is too late. You will discover your fate when you’re half-dead, riddled with deterioration and at deaths door. You will have enough time to plan your funeral and pick out your headstone as you decide who will carry your body through church.

You might even have enough time to repent for your sins and beg God for forgiveness.

However, you do have options. One of them, the most obvious, is to live like I do. Like a whisper in the middle of the night. I know I am one of the fortunate ones who walk this earth undetectable. I am untouchable, unmarked, unscathed. This in turn makes me very dangerous, a hazard to your health. You see, disclosure is not an option for me. I will take as many of you with me that I possibly can.

I know I am not going to the pearly gates up above. My halo has long since been tarnished as the last of my wings feathers fall to the ground. No matter what I do in my remaining years, my pact with “Red” will expire soon and I have to take as many of you with me as I can. Like the saying goes, when thrown lemons… suck it and don’t go out without a fight.

I and death have a very odd relationship and I honestly believe that after 17 years death fears me. I am no longer afraid. The moment, the instant, I became valiant I freed myself of this stigma that plagues so many. The day I accepted that death is my reality, I embraced it. I caressed it. I loved it.

Death is beautiful. Death is becoming. Death is unavoidable.

And so am I…

I will catalog the life events which make me infallible. The moments in time that makes me memorable. I will illustrate that even in 2007 AIDS is still alive and how so many of you are starved for affection, defection and love. That you will believe anything said to you in order to prevail the ends that justify your foolish means.

Will the infinite pursuit of love make your life insignificant, or is your life simply and miraculously… Priceless?

ALZMEK: The Fictional Memoir of a Tainted Life

Wed, 24 Oct 2007 04:01:58 +0000

After a Quarter of a Century the face of AIDS has transformed from Death to Drop-Dead Gorgeous!

RM Guzman’s new book “ALZMEK: The Fictional Memoir of a Tainted Life,” will make you question your mortality, ethics and most importantly, your perception.
It is San Francisco, Los Angeles and New York, circa 2004-2010. Somewhere in that time the lines between HIV Negative and positive has blurred and now they blend in. The new face of AIDS is no longer bleak. The new vision is both alluring and amazing.
“ALZMEK” is the petrifying memoir of Sebastian Alzmek, the impeccable and ultra-fabulous grim reaper who is handsome, successful and HIV Positive. He manages to deceive everyone in his life as he transforms into a Silent Killer, armed with his poisonous veins.
An envious smile, a perfect physique, a Multi-Million dollar estate and even more lucrative P.R. Firm made him into one of the countries most wanted men. He was born with the rare “X” factor, the power of persuasion.
A scared childhood, an adolescent deception and death made him realize that the world will never change and soon realized that disclosure was not an option. Revealing his affliction made him into a dirty and unwanted second-class citizen. He quickly learned that vengeance was better than sex and he was soon on a one man campaign to remind the world that AIDS is still alive.
Sebastian’s philosophy will make you question everything you ever believed to be real about life, death, AIDS and your perception. It will trigger anyone to think twice about who they are having sexual relations with. The victims in this perplexing story are no longer the people living with HIV/AIDS, but rather the innocent, unsuspecting public just like you.

No one can stop him from infecting dozens, even hundreds of men, women and even children. The laws are lenient and unprecedented making his wrath of destruction as persecuted as a parking violation; after all, he is the “victim.” Even the people he infects cannot control his madness because his charisma not only intoxicates them, but also fools them into believing he is “Normal”.

He not only lives a double life; but has perfected it to the point where no one knows he is one of the immune deficient souls walking the earth.
He leaves many victims behind, but even worse is his legacy of alumni who want to be just like him. His fury of death, destruction, and greed live far beyond his years. It will make you question family, mortality and the daily struggle to “Fit In”.

This tale embarks on the ignorance of our time, a time where awareness and education is at sub-zero. AIDS awareness today is no longer trendy. It is out of style to wear a red ribbon, protest, or say the word “condom,” much less use one. Today, discussing an individuals HIV status is virtually taboo. In the tainted world the variance between negative, positive, gay and straight have been distorted and now an entire generation is at risk, which makes Sebastian dangerous and very powerful in life, but more importantly, in death.

Sebastian not only turns himself into an Urban Legend, but a hero as well.

The story will unveil a cast of characters who have to live with the ramifications of Sebastian’s choices in life, or like he preferred to call it, their free will. The cause and effect of Sebastian’s actions live far beyond his years and catching a killer will prove very difficult even for the former District Attorney of Los Angeles who can not and will not let this case go cold.

It will show you how men who are single and married can destroy not only their own lives, but the lives of their wives, children and unborn babies. It will show you how not everyone is as lucky as Sebastian and will perish from the disease. How they will suffer and how the medications will not only fail, but cause more damage, scaring them for life.

Most importantly, it will show you how the cycle continues and how history always repeats itself with Tobey, his youngest victim and best student. How everything, absolutely everything you believed to be real becomes a fictional memoir.
This saga will provoke every feeling from your body. It will take you from horror and disgust to envy and admiration. It will catapult you into a world only few people ever get to see and you will see it through the eyes of a murderer and his victims.
This Fictional Memoir of a Tainted life will show you the pain behind a beautiful smile written by the only man in the world who got away with being the perfect serial murderer. It will show you how life is a perception and reality is what you believe it to be.
AIDS is not about promiscuity, homosexuality or vulgar individuals, it is about choices. Medications and vaccines do not guarantee you a life after infection. It does not mean the disease will not kill you, it can and it will. As fictional as this story may seem, it is undoubtedly happening in your own city, in your own backyard, perhaps it has already happened to you.
At the end of the story you will ask yourself, “Who was the real victim?”
Alzmek.com