Nothing makes an old gay person more annoyed than death. We have better reason to resent it than straight people because we endured the plague of AIDS.
Back then, every single friend died and — long estranged from my family — I felt completely alone, floating in the night sky as I often imagined myself as a child. “Is it grief or is it depression?” a therapist asked me.
I explained that it was “inevitability.” He prescribed an antidepressant for my inevitability, and it worked long enough that I could stop thinking full time about the inevitable.
In the last few weeks, we as a community have faced two deaths — drag performers Tina Devore and Lily White. They were preceded by Diamond Lil six years ago.