When I arrived, Nas was wearing an all-black sweat suit ensemble that telegraphed to me that he wasn’t concerned with trying to impress. I immediately admired this and greeted him with a smile, and he embraced me. “I—I’m treating this like my first date with you,” I said before I could stop myself.
“So this is our first date?” he asked, smiling. My heart began to flutter. “Yeah. Get it over with. We’re on a date,” I said, finding my footing, my confidence, again.
Let’s get to the boys. I know what it’s like now to become a respected gay in a very quick amount of time, where all of a sudden, you’re a blue-check gay who everyone now knows. And all of a sudden the DMs look different.
"My DMs are all out of order. Which is lucky, because I do get horny and I’m like, “Let’s see who’s the hottest person in this thing.” But you know, luckily I don’t really do that. I only did that once, maybe."
As we began to discuss the album’s dark turns and the amount of suicidal ideation peppered throughout it, I attempted to return the generosity he gave to me in telling me to quit smoking by telling him that he should see a therapist.
I asked if I could grab his hand, and he consented. I held his hand for a moment before I said that I think a therapist might be a healthier person to talk to than managers or friends (old and new)—someone who could help him manage the rapidly changing psychic landscape that he is in. Montero grew silent. “I like the idea of therapy,” he said, “but I feel like it’s just people telling you what you already know.”
But what is the gay agenda for you? Like, what's the outcome?
"It's just acceptance of gay people. And they see that as a bad thing: Like, they're trying to normalize it. You know what? Yeah. That's actually what I'm trying to do."
That conspiracy is true. We are trying, on a global level, to normalize fakkitry.
"Exactly. Let's normalize it."
they been waiting desperately for black men like this to push
