#maricon

If, in this scenario, Ratonhnhaké:ton is thrown into the Third Crusades during the plot of AC1 (maybe he got punted just after the failed Jerusalem mission). In this case, there would be enough information for him to know that he’s been sent to the past. Personally, I believe he would try to return to his village first, maybe try to find out why he was sent there in the first place, but, to do that, he would need a ship and a crew.

His Eagle Vision would tell him to try his luck in an unassuming building and that’s where he would first make contact with the Rafiqs.

To be more exact…

With Malik.

Unorganized Notes:

In this setup, we’re going for Ratonhnhaké:ton being in the middle of the plot of AC3, old enough to be a great Assassin but young enough to still need a bit of guidance

I threw him in Malik’s direction because Malik would be curious enough to interact with him, smart enough to realize that Ratonhnhaké:ton is an Assassin from another Brotherhood far away from them, and kind enough to act like a mentor to Ratonhnhaké:ton. Throwing him in Masyaf would be asking for trouble since Al Mualim wouldn’t risk an unknown Assassin screwing his plans now (although this would set a plot of Ratonhnhaké:ton versus Altaïr though which could be fun but would easily fall on the pitfall of Hollywood team-up plotlines). The other two Rafiqs would be a bit harder to pinpoint but they would definitely alert Al Mualim about Ratonhnhaké:ton. Malik has a slight chance of not doing the same thing because he would see that Ratonhnhaké:ton wants to remain ‘not seen’ and he’ll do it until he’s sure that Ratonhnhaké:ton is not a danger to the Brotherhood.

Ratonhnhaké:ton wouldn’t have that much information about the Levantine Brotherhood. Hell, he might not even recognize Altaïr at all since Achilles didn’t exactly give him a big rundown of the Brotherhood’s history. At best, he might think he’d heard of Altaïr before but can’t remember where.

This would make him and Altaïr have a relationship with equal footing. Ratonhnhaké:ton and Altaïr won’t exactly get along at the start. Altaïr would find him to be too secretive to be trustworthy. Ratonhnhaké:ton would be annoyed by Altaïr’s arrogance. They would have a ‘forged in fire’ kind of friendship, especially after Altaïr starts to change for the better.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s main goal is to get a ship and a crew to sail back to his village but he will get sucked into the whole Assassin versus Templar thing because he can’t find it in himself to not care. Especially when this supposed crusade hits too close to what was happening back in his time.

Romance-wise… is it weird that I can kinda see Ratonhnhaké:ton and Maria having something? Like, even if it’s not going to lead to anything, they would definitely have a crush on one another. Also, Ratonhnhaké:ton would definitely see Maria as a formidable opponent without caring about her gender and treat her with respect befitting his kinda-sorta rival. Maria would see that and be… interested in Ratonhnhaké:ton because of it.

On the other side, Malik treating Ratonhnhaké:ton more like a younger brother? Maybe even have a scene of Ratonhnhaké:ton reminding him that he is not the brother he lost and Malik agreeing with him, there was no way he would replace Kadar. It’s just… They both lost someone dear to them and they’re not looking to replace them. They just see someone in pain like them and they tried to help. In the end, found family!

Tim had made a mistake, of course he didn’t realize it was a mistake until much later.  In fact he didn’t realize his mistake until it was staring him in the eyes.  Literally.  The memory of the mistake rushed into his mind, and if someone was wondering what that mistake was, it was sipping from a cup of water that Lex Luther had given him.  He was such an idiot!  Of course Lex would take advantage of his stupidity to make a clone, except strangely enough, his clone was female.  She was trapped in a glass cylinder, fidgeting and obviously anxious until she noticed him, and she was just staring at him and his team.  Above the glass cage she was trapped in was a sign that was labeled, Project M-a01r.  

He knew it was his clone, they had the same eyes, skin color, hair color, and facial structure as him along with a feature or two from someone else that was not Luther.  He was snapped out of his stupor by Conner tapping his shoulder.

“Red, are you okay?”

He asked hesitantly.  Tim startled at the touch but quickly nodded back and responded with a quiet and shocked unconvincing,

“Yea, fine.”

The girl in the tube hesitantly lifted her hand and pressed it against the glass as she leaned closer to it as well, but not close enough to fog up the glass with her breath.  Tim took a few hesitant steps forward and quickly analyzed her before placing his hand in front of hers.  The girl looked shocked before she gave him a bright blinding smile like no one had ever bothered to pay attention to her.  He looked over at the electronic pad next to the glass prison and quickly moved towards it to find as much information as he could.

Project M-a01r

Male gene: Tim Drake

Female gene: Bridgette Graham de Vanily

Tim looked further into the information that the device could give him only to be once again snapped out of his trance by one of his teammates, Cassie this time.

“Red Robin!”

She shouted, which meant that they had been trying to get attention for a bit then.  Oops.  She let out a frustrated sigh before crossing her arms and lifting a silent judgmental brow with her eyes shifting to the glass case still holding a now dejected girl.  His clone mixed with someone else’s DNA.  

“Right, sorry.”

He turned back to the device he quickly hacked into it and opened the glass casing much to the girl’s shock.  Hesitantly she stepped forward and quickly retreated when Con approached her.

“Hey, it’s okay.  I understand that this may be weird and shocking for you, but we’re gonna get you out of here, okay?”

Con slowly telegraphed his movements so that she could watch him lift his arm out as an invite to take it.  Hesitantly she extended her arm out as well and took Con’s hand taking slow small steps till she was standing next to him.  She was very small, smaller than Tim, he wondered if that was his fault or this so-called Bridgette’s fault that it happened.  He hoped that she wasn’t actually done growing though, because he didn’t want her to be exactly 5’ forever.

“Looks like you’re a dad now Red.”

Cassie said with an elbow to his side.  He glared at her and rubbed his side.

“No.”

Everyone turned to stare at him in shock.

“No?”

Con asked shocked, hurt, and slightly angry.

“What I mean is, that sounds and looks weird and wrong.  I’d rather be her brother.”

Everyone nodded at that.  He was only 17, it would indeed be weird if he was a “dad”.  An older brother sounded much more reasonable, especially because the girl looked to be about 14.

“We should also find out who this Bridgette is so that we can inform her of the situation.”

Marinette tilted her head and her nose scrunched in confusion.

“Are we not going to the lab?”

The girl spoke for the first time, confusion heavily lacing her voice that held an unexpected french accent.  Conner looked at her with sympathy in his eyes as he pulled her closer to his chest.

“No, we’re going to get you out of here.”

He promised with a firm voice.  She looked at him with awe in her eyes.  Tim really hated Cadmus, there was always something shady happening here.  He felt bad for Guardian, he was trying so hard to clean this place up, but as long as Lex Luthor was the CEO, it would never be clean.  They quickly got out of the underground bunker and left towards Mt. Justice.

“Hey, do you have a name?”

Conner asked her quietly as she shrunk into his side farther as true sunlight for her very first time.  She slowly shook her head and was grateful when Red Robin took off his cape and placed it on her, flipping the hood over her to shade her eyes.

“Would you like to pick one?  Or do you want one of us to?”

“I wouldn’t mind if one of you came up with one.”

She mumbled shyly fidgeting with her fingers.  Everyone looked at Tim with a raised brow silently saying, you better not mess it up.  Tim gulped and thought over names in his mind trying to come up with one that wasn’t bad or stupid.

“Umm, how about Marinette?”

He said, well more like questioned, nervously.  The others thought it over and nodded.

“That name sounds crash!”

Bart said as he ran up to the girl.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s a nice name.”

She said with a small smile.

“Good job Boy Wonder.  You actually found a good name.”

Cassie said with a small smirk.  Tim rolled his eyes under the mask.

“Have a little faith, I’m not that bad.”

“You absolutely are that bad.”

She said wryly, the smirk on her face never leaving.  Tim sighed as they arrived at their vehicles.  He side eyed Con as he helped Marinette into the sidecar of the motorcycle Sphere turned into.  There was something going on there, and as her new big brother, he was obligated to be suspicious of this.

~~~~~~~~~~ Marinette and Tim stood in front of the gates to the Graham de Vanily mansion.  They had found Bridgette who was currently living with her husband, Felix Graham de Vanily, in London.  They had contacted her before, but today was the day they were going to meet her.  Marinette fidgeted with the sleeves of her shirt looking down at her feet.  Tim gently took her hand into his and gave it a small squeeze.

“It’s going to be okay, Bean.  I’m sure she’ll love you.”

Marinette let out a long breath and nodded looking straight forward with a spark of confidence in her eyes that she always got when she felt like she had to get something done when under pressure.  She felt Tim's hand slip into hers and squeezed it before she rang the bell.  She gasped and stepped back in surprise when the gates immediately opened up for them.  Tim smiled and had to stifle a laugh as he pulled her towards the large estate in front of them.  A short girl with black hair dressed in a black and red sundress ran towards them at top speed.

“Bridgette!  Slow down or you’ll scare her off!”

A blonde man, who must have been Felix, called from the doors.  Bridgette stopped right in front of the two and quickly took both of Marinette’s hands into hers.

“You must be Marinette!  It’s so amazing to meet you!  We’re going to be the best sisters ever!  I’ll take you shopping, and we can go out to festivals, and have sleepovers, and I can teach you how to bake!”

Bridgette’s voice got higher with every suggestion as she also began to bounce on her toes.  Marinette stared at the woman in shock and held as still as she could as Bridgette bounced up and down.  Her head soon snapped to Tim, and he had to will himself to not take a step back.

“So you're her other donor?  Tim Drake-Wayne?”

“Yes, it was quite a shock to learn that this happened.”

He said as he stuck out a hand for her to shake.  Instead she launched herself and wrapped him into a hug with one arm while she hugged Marinette with her other.

“No handshakes!  We might as well be siblings now!”

“R-right.”

Tim stuttered, slightly flustered.  Marinette giggled at him as she leaned into the warm comfort she got from the hug.  The next thing either of them knew was that they were both being pulled towards the mansion and being brought through the main hall to a modest sitting room.

“Alright!”

Bridgette announced loudly as her husband jokingly rolled his eyes as he sat down next to her with much more grace than his wife.

“I call dibs on spending time with her in the Summer!  I also get visitation rights whenever I am able to come to Gotham.  You can also come visit during Summer, but I get the majority of her time.  Deal?”

Tim thought it over for a bit before nodding and sticking out his hand.

“Deal.”

Bridgette smiled brightly with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Perfect, now that we have that settled, we’re going shopping!”

She announced with finality, punctuating it by standing up and taking Marinette’s wrist and dragging her out the door.  Tim and Felix stared at the door then looked at each other.  Felix was smirking and shaking his head amusedly while Tim bit his lip to hold back his amusement at the panic and confusion that covered Marinette’s face.

“Would you like to grab some tea?”

Felix asked politely.  Tim gave him a small smile and nodded.

“Tea sounds wonderful.”

~~~~~~~~~~ Tim no longer thinks that it was a mistake to have fallen for Luthor's trick.  He loved his new sister.  Turns out that his coffee addiction is genetic as she too has the same need for it after her first time trying it.  Bridgette was pissed when she found out as she does not like coffee in the slightest.  Felix thought it was funny and sometimes gave her some of his when she visited.  Another amazing thing was that it turns out she had trace amounts of magic in her blood as Bridgette had told them about her time using the miraculous of luck and creation for many years.  She was a very fast learner and was able to analyze then perform moves almost immediately after watching them.  The only thing that they both wished she was better at was lying.  She was really bad at it, but that never stopped them from wreaking havoc.  Another thing that he didn’t agree with was how she and Jason got along like a house on fire.  So when the three of them were teamed up for prank wars, everyone knew that the world had a high possibility of ending.  The final thing that concerned him was her and Conner.

He had overheard many of the conversations that the two had over the phone.  And when she went to Mt. Justice, she was always dressed a little more stylish than when she left the house any other time.  If his suspicions were correct, then Con would have to go through the entire batfam giving him the shovel talk.  Even from Damian.  As soon as he learned that she had an interest in art but didn’t know what she should do, he had practically kidnapped her and helped her learn different techniques and his entire art room.  It was rather cute really, especially since they met up every Thursday from 4 to basically the end of the day.  Dick and her had bonded over her interests in arial arts, watching them perform on the trapeze was amazing.  Anyone that watched them would immediately know that both of them were born to be in the air.  

Marinette liked to stay by Tim as much as possible though.  Because while she had this amazing confidence, she could immediately become shy and small in a second.  Marinette often had nightmares of being in the “lab”.  She never really talked about it, but he could tell that whatever had happened there was absolutely terrible.  When her nightmares got really bad she would always go to Tim’s room and often he would be sitting in his bed working on a case on his laptop.  She would curl up in his lap and while he continued to work he would run his fingers gently through her hair and quietly mumble the case facts to help her fall back asleep.  Sometimes when it was really bad she would take his cases away and snuggle with him until they both fell asleep together.  And when he was on patrol she would wait in the cave with Alfred and help monitor or work the comms.

One of the most precious moments of her in the cave was when Bruce was benched because of a broken leg, but still wanted to work on the cases from the Batcomputer.  When everyone had returned from patrol it was to a sleeping Marinette leaned against a still awake Bruce with a small, soft, content smile on his face.  

The Summers without her seemed long and almost unbearable.  It was weird not having her and her bubbly personality missing from the manor, so he and the others found themselves visiting London more often than not.  They even began to look to build a new Wayne Enterprises there, and if the Graham de Vanily’s were helping to fund a large portion of it, well it was strictly for business purposes.

All in all, Superman lied.  Having a clone of himself and a bit of someone else was great.  Marinette was an amazing person.  And a just as amazing hero.  

The only thing that was the downfall of it is that now she is dating Conner, and he has to watch the two flirt all of the gosh darn time!  The worst part is when they did it on purpose specifically to annoy him.  He loved the two, he did.  Conner was his best friend and Marinette was his sister, but sometimes he wanted to slap them if it wouldn’t lead to his demise.  

Tim took a sip of his coffee as the whole family gathered in the movie room together watching a stupid B list movie together and talking over each other to comment on how terrible it was and why.  He let out a small content sigh and let his eyes drift shut with the feeling of content and love surrounding him.  He wouldn’t trade Marinette for anything, she was honestly the glue that was keeping them together and that has helped them heal.  Screw Superman, clones are awesome.

Permanent Taglist:

Marica: maricón in Spanish. Outdated in Portuguese, except when used with desinences (i.e. maricona). Sometimes used with decolonial derivations, such as maryka, maryca, or marika, othertimes reused with queer, such as mariqueer (Westerner/Anglo-Saxon/French), marikuir (Latinx), marikweer (Chinese/East Asian), and maricuir (Brazilian/Portuguese), and maverique or in neoneuter or neonull, such as marique or marike and maricx or maric.

It can be recepted as profanity, depending the culture. However it's been reclaimed as many groups, such as Red NoBinarie Latinoamericana.

Cuando eres una persona LGBT, la fiesta tiene una dimensión política. Para nosotrxs, la fiesta es un espacio de emancipación, una celebración de deseos e identidades que históricamente han sido objeto de humillación y de persecución; deseos e identidades que todavía hoy son motivo de castigo --a veces castigos fatales-- alrededor del mundo . La Fiesta --sí, con mayúsculas-- es un espacio casi sagrado. Tan sólo asistir a una fiesta temática con las amistades, a una reunión gaymer, a un ball, a una fiesta en una locación misteriosa con cuota de acceso y diferentes DJs --por no hablar de organizar semejantes eventos-- es casi un ritual para nosotrxs; esperamos estos eventos con emoción, generamos grandes expectativas, preparamos atuendos y planeamos gastos con anticipación, todo para disfrutar de una noche donde podamos gozar siendo lo que somos de manera libre, sin vergüenza, sin miedo al odio, a la persecución y al castigo. Quizás el ejemplo más obvio sea lo que la Marcha del Orgullo de la Ciudad de México representa para la gente LGBT que vive en otros estados y que año con año realiza el peregrinaje veraniego a la capital (gay) del país para celebrar el día (y la noche) más jota del calendario. En México, esta tradición tiene como referente más antiguo el mítico Baile de los 41 maricones.

Uno puede pensar que el Baile de los 41 maricones es un evento histórico nacional, un suceso que pertenece a todos los mexicanos, pero mi impresión personal es que no es así. Este evento forma parte de la historia LGBT en México y, para ser sincero, lo considero propiedad nuestra; no del "pueblo" de México sino de sus desviadxs. Quisiera pensar que muchas otras personas estarán más o menos de acuerdo conmigo. Es desde esta perspectiva que me fue casi imposible disfrutar de la película El baile de los 41. No voy hablar aquí de sus méritos técnicos o de la ausencia de ellos, sino de la manera en la cual este mítico evento fundacional para la cultura LGBT mexicana queda reducido a una película sobre maricones para el consumo heterosexual. Adelante con los spoilers.

Para empezar, hay que decir que El baile de los 41, de hecho, no trata sobre el baile de los 41 maricones sino sobre la relación entre el maricón no. 42, el diputado Ignacio de la Torre, y su esposa Amada, hija de Porfirio Díaz. Esta no es la historia de un baile, ni de 41 maricones --de hecho, el baile dura en pantalla menos de 4 minutos, incluyendo el vestuario, el peinado y el maquillaje-- es la historia de un closetero que hace sufrir a su esposa por homosexual y mentiroso. La película nos muestra a un Ignacio que maltrata a su esposa de manera reiterada, ya sea teniendo relaciones de mala gana, forcejeando por arrebatarle una llave, arrastrándola fuera del cuarto, mintiéndole o simplemente distanciándose de ella. Nos muestra también un Ignacio que intenta pasarse de listo para avanzar su carrera política, que es terco, inmaduro y deshonesto. Por otro lado, la película nos presenta una Amada que inicia como una esposa entusiasta y amorosa, pero que se vuelve violenta al darse cuenta no tan gradualmente de que su esposo es homosexual. La película se esfuerza tanto por hacernos empatizar con Amada (y tan poco con Ignacio) que el intento de abuso sexual por parte de ella pasa casi inadvertido al ser visualmente menos dramático que la manera en que él la empuja y arrastra fuera del cuarto para resguardarse. Podría decirse que la parte central de la trama consiste en retratar cómo una mujer heterosexual sufre por culpa de un maricón. Malditos maricones.

La otra parte de la trama es el romance entre Ignacio y Evaristo, un abogado que Ignacio integra en el club de los 41 maricones. El trágico romance culmina en un hermoso cuadro al final de la película en el que Ignacio llora en silencio al enterarse que Evaristo murió estando preso, resultado de la redada en el baile. Esta parte de la trama pretende ser una especie de Brokeback Mountain llevada al Porfiriato. El problema con esto es que, por un lado, la película jamás se preocupa por hacernos empatizar con Ignacio y, por el otro, el romance entre ambos hombres no es verosímil. La película muestra a Ignacio y a Evaristo teniendo relaciones sexuales en repetidas ocasiones, pero no los muestra construyendo la intimidad que se asume entre ellos hacia el final de la película. Resulta difícil creer que estos dos personajes realmente están enamorados; quizás sería más fácil pensarlo si al menos se besaran de lengüita, pero no lo hacen. En fin, la falta de desarrollo de ese romance en pantalla provoca que el último cuadro de la película no sea tan conmovedor como pretende serlo (a diferencia del cuadro final de las dos camisas colgadas en la puerta del armario en, de nuevo, Brokeback Mountain). No sé, a lo mejor para los malditos maricones el amor se reduce sólo a coger.

Quizás el punto que me parece más crítico de "El baile de los 41" es que, a diferencia de lo que mencioné arriba sobre lo que la Fiesta representa para las personas LGBT, esa parte gozosa de la celebración de nuestros deseos e identidades está ausente en la mayor parte de la película. Es cierto que la película tiene escenas de maricones bebiendo, riendo, cogiendo, travestidos, cantando y representando comedias, pero la manera en que estas imágenes están retratadas a menudo resulta en incomodidad y desconcierto, si no es que en una completa caricaturización. A mi parecer, esto es resultado de la iluminación, de la fotografía, del movimiento de la cámara, de la musicalización y del comportamiento de los actores secundarios. Como mencioné antes, el baile tal cual tiene una duración menor a 4 minutos en la pantalla, lo cual corresponde a dos secuencias. En la primera de ellas vemos a los maricones preparándose para el baile: comienza con un primer plano de un maricón maquillándose y que parece llorar de felicidad --todo bien ahí-- pero esto es seguido por un movimiento de cámara que muestra a otros maricones empelucados tratando de ajustarse el corset, no vemos sus caras porque están en la penumbra, sólo alcanzamos a distinguir las pelucas, las uñas largas y las formas del corset entre las siluetas; a continuación tenemos un primer plano de Ignacio, pensativo y visiblemente triste mientras se maquilla; toda la secuencia va acompañada de una desconcertante melodía de piano. La segunda parte del baile muestra a los 42 maricones bailando, la mitad en vestidas, sí, pero con los cuerpos y las caras rígidos la mayor parte del tiempo. No es sino hasta que esa desconcertante música de piano se acelera y la escena comienza a intercalar imágenes de la policía acercándose que vemos a algunos maricones reír y disfrutar --menos de 20 segundos--. Esta no es la emoción que sentimos los LGBT cuando nos preparamos para la fiesta más esperada del año, ni la euforia que nos inunda cuando ya estamos ahí. 

No hay goce, afirmación, ni reivindicación. Al contrario, la película parece mirar a los maricones con extrañeza, retratándolos como seres humanos superficiales, insulsos, ridículos e incapaces de ser felices. Algo similar a lo descrito en el párrafo anterior ocurre en las escenas que mostraban las actividades típicas del club de los maricones en partes previas de la película. En una de ellas incluso hay un contrapunteo muy particular: se escucha una conversación fuera de cuadro de uno de los maricones en torno a sus obligaciones familiares con su esposa e hijos mientras vemos a los hombres pasándola bien y jugando billar, hasta que la cámara se centra otra vez en el rostro acongojado de Ignacio. Este club no es un espacio de libertad y emancipación, de celebración de las identidades, es un circo de lo extraño bajo el yugo de la heterosexualidad obligatoria, escrito y filmado desde la mirada heterosexual. Miren a estos malditos maricones.

Después de ver la película, encontré una entrevista donde la guionista afirma que su objetivo era "contar, rescatar y resignificar" el baile de los 41 maricones "o sea, dejar de hablar de este suceso histórico como si fuera un chisme y empezar a darle la importancia que tiene dentro de la historia de nuestro país." Aquí surge la pregunta "¿Quiénes son ese "nosotros" cuando la guionista habla sobre "nuestro país"? Al hacer una película cuya trama se centra en un matrimonio heterosexual (entre un hombre y una mujer), que retrata a los hombres homosexuales de manera superficial, incluso llegando a caricaturizarlos, que muestra a estos hombres como incapaces de ser felices y que deja de lado lo que el mito de los 41 representa para la gente LGBT en mexico, la película está muy lejos de resignificar este suceso histórico. Al contrario, me atrevería a decir que la película reproduce (quizás de una manera más sutil, pero no por ello poco perniciosa) el escándalo moral que la prensa nacional propagó a partir de este suceso a lo largo de varias décadas.

Mi segunda salida del clóset

Hoy se conmemora el día de la lucha contra el SIDA. Una epidemia que comenzó en los 80 y aún no termina, ha matado a 32 millones personas y actualmente vivimos 38 millones con el VIH.

Es hoy que aprovecho la oportunidad de tener una segunda salida del closet, por mi bien y para empoderar a otrxs. Llevo 11 años viviendo con el virus y 10 siendo indetectable.

Desde el inicio, y aún siendo médico, viví con el estigma y con la culpa de haberme contagiado. Lo llevé en silencio con mi familia por más de un año, con una depresión que ellos no podían explicar, hasta que no pude más.

Perdí un trabajo por portar el virus. Mi jefe en el hospital de Pucón, Chile, un médico también, se enteró que portaba el VIH cuando se lo conté como secreto profesional. El mismo día me llamó a su casa para pedirme que me tomara una licencia y no volviese a trabajar, porque no podía permitir que la gente se enterase que un médico con VIH atendía pacientes. No tuve forma de defenderme y él se encargó de hacérmelo saber.

Y estos son sólo un par de ejemplos de historias que he vivido por portar el VIH. Viví la culpa, rechazo, humillación, depresión, ansiedad. Y aún así me siento una persona privilegiada que tiene acceso al tratamiento, puede contarlo y seguir trabajando, o seguir vivo.

Por otra parte, el virus fue un estímulo a seguir adelante, se convirtió en mi vocación. Sabía que es algo que se puede prevenir y había mucho que hacer. Por eso comencé estudios en Salud Pública, y actualmente llevo avanzado mi tercer año de doctorado.

Esta epidemia, como todas, afecta más a los más vulnerables: los más pobres, personas de minorías sexuales, trabajdorxs sexuales, mujeres o personas que viven en países en los cuales es penado tener relaciones con personas del mismo sexo. Estas personas con mayor frecuencia tienen mayor mortalidad, peor control de la enfermedad, no tienen acceso a tratamiento o no saben que están contagiados.

Hago un llamado a tomar consciencia que es un virus, no un pecado, no es un error, no es culpa de quien lo tiene o quien lo contagia (cuando no es intencional). Es un puto virus.

También el llamado es para que sepan, o recuerden, que ser indetectable significa no contagioso. Está demostrado científicamente, y es increíble que aún existan sanitarios que no lo saben o no lo creen.

Quiero que sepan que ahora lo puedo decir libremente, quitarme este peso de encima y ser un poco más feliz.

Gracias a Anna Esplandiu y Daniela Aguilera por su gran apoyo artístico y moral.

IG: @migo_alarcon

Fotografía: IG @annaesplandiu