i’m reading a very manly 1950s account of a hunt for el dorado but i’m thirty pages in and the narrator has already described his traveling companion as “handsome” 4 times, “extremely handsome” twice, “exceedingly handsome” once, his voice as “quietly husky” and “a husky whisper,” his fingers as long and deft, his body as “tall and cat-like,” and his eyes as some variation of ice-blue at least three times.
just men being dudes. dudes being pals. it’s great. this is great.
“Ever since he had aimed that gun at my throat, I had liked him immensely. And now I liked him even better.”
oh my god
“I awoke when a beam of light fell across my eyes. Jorge had come into my room carrying a lighted candle.
‘I’m going with you,’ he said quietly.
‘I can’t pay you.’
He smiled. ‘I thought I was a partner?’”
OH MY GOD
according to apparently every adaptation of a search of el dorado, i think we can conclude that maybe the real el dorado was the homosexuality we found along the way
#i’m adopting this as a term for someone working to understand their sexual orientation #‘oh megan dated dudes exclusively in college but these days i hear she’s on the road to el dorado' ( @buetterfliege )
From now on, every person figuring out their sexuality is on the road to el dorado
the real treasure was the gay we found along the way
