Sunflower Stories

I discovered at a lot in a little time. I discovered porn, sex, abuse, alcohol, drugs, guns, gangsters, drug dealers, pimps, money, but most importantly I discovered how I can never feel anything ever again.


I discovered the joys of hurting myself, taking away the emotional pain, by slicing the skin on my wrists. I would watch as the blood trickled out of my veins. It hurt so good. The pain unimaginable. I didn’t want it to end, but I no longer wanted to continue. Life has a funny way of continuing to keep us stagnant. The chains that held me down did so for a long time. My chains are the same as yours; we simply use different material. Rope, fire, knives, it’s all the same. It’s was an excuse to damage the life Id been given.


I dreamt of death and destruction. I needed it to fill a void in my life, in my heart. My chains were made out of stigma, abuse, loneliness. I was 16 when I lost my virginity. I knew in that VERY instant that the connection of intercourse would be my addiction. The intensity I felt when my body was contoured to fit another. The pleasure that rushed thru my veins between every stroke, every breath, every caress was unimaginable. I never wanted it to end. I had to seek out this feeling. I had to find it no matter what. After my month with L.O.V.E. that feeling faded. It no longer felt magical. It no longer held my interest.


I needed to up the ante. I started sneaking out, finding older men to seduce, lying about my age, fishing for compliments. Continued to up the stakes. Thought I had tried it all. It was never enough. My hunger for that passion turned into hatred for myself. Turned my mind to the dark side. I was contemplating death. If I could not find this feeling I’ve been searching for then what is the point of living anymore. This relentless search went on for about two years. Until…


I discovered something even better than intimacy and sex.




Now I had been drinking since I was 13 so it was nothing new to me. I had also been abusing prescription medications since I was 14, but when I turned 18 and I was finally released from the chains that bound me to “childhood” I discovered the power of combining my three favorite things.


Sex, Drugs, and Alcohol.


I no longer wanted to end my life. I had found a light at the end of the tunnel; or so I thought. I started with a little bit of pot which turned into trying ecstasy. Neither of those substances lasted long for me because I wanted MORE. The first time I linked up with the Meth Monster; it was like heaven in my brain. I knew I was hooked. It felt similar to when I had lost my virginity. I had found it. I had finally begun to feel that intensity again, but like all drugs users that feeling began to fade. For me, however it didn’t fade quickly. Instead it followed me thru several jobs, several other addictions, relationships, etc. It was the only constant in my life. It made the demons in my head finally go away. When the high finally went away, & I was no longer in love with it I needed to fill that void again.

This time with self harm, and “dirty” sex. I would sleep with men that I knew were HIV positive. I wanted, or better yet I NEEDED to die. I thought of nothing else except for my eventual death.


I viewed HIV as a death sentence, but in the back of my mind I also viewed it as a right of passage. As a way to connect, as a way to belong. I am what many people in the LGBTQ, HIV, MSM, community would call a seeker. I wanted the virus. I wanted to become a person with HIV. Notice I didn’t say a person LIVING with HIV. I wanted to die from this thing. At the time sex was the only thing that helped me feel like I belonged. Men don’t care whether I laughed or cried. They didn’t care weather or not I wanted it safe or raw. They don’t care whether I was positive or negative. They didn’t care about what music I liked, the color of my skin, what food I ate. All these men cared about was getting off. In return all I cared about was being loved and wanted. I never knew or understood what those feelings were. So I wanted to feel something, ANYTHING. Just a taste, a little nibble. A sense of belonging, being wanted, having someone care. It didn’t matter to me that they didn’t see me. That was fine as long as I wasnt judged. I self medicated with Meth in order to feel even less and to fall even deeper into the arms of these men that showed me the least bit affection. I stopped using condoms when I was 18 years old. I thought I was old enough to make my own decisions. YEA, I knew the risks (I told myself several times over the course of a few years). YEA, I’m still being safe (only hooking up with men that were “safe” meaning they were negative), although I never saw a single test, never formed a single relation with any of these men. Still had multiple partners. When I feel into the claws of meth (when the occasional use, turned into an addiction) I stopped caring who my partners were all together. Still, I thought I was smart enough to beat the virus. I was hooking up only with people who were undetectable. I didn’t even know what that meant at the time, but it sure sounded like the correct thing to do. I still didn’t care. When I feel even deeper into the hole of meth, I needed a secure way to get higher and higher. I started dating my dealer. Who had recently become HIV+. When I first met him I didnt know him or his then partner were both HIV+ and guess what I did. Yep, you guessed right slept with both of them right off the bat. Lucky for me, my dealer found out he was positive a few months later and broke up with that guy. Now it was my turn to get tested. Scariest moment of my life. I had been getting tested since I’ve been having sex, but for some reason this felt different. This felt like the end. This felt like sudden death. Go in, blood drawn, wait to hear the results, foot tapping, im negative. Sigh of relief.

Then why do I go back? Why do I return to that place of despair? Because now I’m stuck. I’m stuck with no more feelings left. The only thing I have that gives me any sense of “hope” is Meth and HIV. I go back to sleeping with my dealer, who has not started ART because they are so distraught by the lies of their ex. I go on to sleep with other men that have said they were HIV positive because I figured I was going to have it. It was only a matter of time. So, why not secure that position in life. I still remember the last person I had sex with. He was living with end stage HIV, also known as AIDS. I knew he was sick, I knew that it would drastically increase my chances of obtaining HIV. Ask me, “if I cared?” SImple answer. NO. Long drawn out answer. Of course I did, but I didn’t know how to make myself act upon my desires to quit. Quit this lifestyle, quit using drugs, quit these men. About a month after sleeping with that person he had passed away. Another month passes. I go to donate plasma because I needed the money. About a week passes and I get a phone call from the Las Vegas Health Department.


Took me 6 months to return that call.

Took me 6 months to start any form of treatment

Took me 6 months to accept the fact that I have altered my life forever

I had thought about that moment for years prior, or so I thought. I had actually just given up hope and stopped caring. I needed something to make me feel whole again. That thing just happened to be HIV.

HIV saved my life. It made me take action in my own life. Forced me to choose between drugs and living. A part of me wasn’t ready to give up fighting yet. I had a new path opened up to me. The path I now had to walk was that of an advocate; was that of a partner; was that of a friend, son, brother, HUMAN.

This is a message to any other LGBTQ person out there that feels like they don’t belong. That feels they are worthless. That is made to feel inferior for whatever reason. I understand & I’ve been there.



This is not for the faint of heart

For the ill of will

Or the squishy and sensitive folk

This is for the ones that arent afraid of anything

This is for the ones that own up and accept

This is for the ones that are unapologetic

No, I’m not going over my sexual escapades in a poem.

I’m going over FUCKING RAW.




Fashion sense




And i also fuck raw.

Because i fuck raw should it diminish all my other raw ass traits?


Because i fuck raw should i be viewed as disgusting?


Because i fuck raw should i be viewed as less than a person?


It seems as though I am. When i tell people i only FUCK RAW i can see the looks on their faces change. Their eyes grow cold, their mind turns off, their hearts closed. With dicks in Their hand i am no longer a person, but a sexual object.

I am here to tell you. I AM MORE.

I am a sweet, funny, kind

I am a nudist, advocate, believer

I know many of y’all are probably thinking, “but you just said your a nudist, so that means your enticing people to view you as a sexual object”

To you people, FUCK OFF.

No I’m not, nudity is my power.

Being naked isn’t a sin nor should it be an answer to an unasked question. 

things that go bump in the night.

You ever just wake up at, I don’t know, UNGODLY FUCKING HOURS OF THE NIGHT?

Like go to sleep at a “decent” time, lets say midnight and BAM your wide awake again by 2. Grab a drink, maybe a quick pit stop at the potty, snacking is a good option at this time of night. Do all the things your body “thinks” it needs. Go to lay back down in bed. Close your eyes. then your mind starts whispering, “watch some videos, play a game, jerk off, do something to re relax yourself.” You listen. Then all of a sudden you look at the time and its been two fucking hours!! What the hell mind I thought this was a good idea.

your mind, ” I LIED BISSSHHHH”

so basically this is me venting about the lovely things that happen when I get jerked awake and can’t fall back asleep.

Your welcome & without further ado…

a bitch session to my mind.


I can’t function correctly the next day. I can’t think straight. I don’t know how to handle life. I will literally question my entire existence now, thanks. Laying in bed, thinking of all the decisions I made that day & yesterday is so much fun. Not as much fun as the nights I’m awake to think about all the decisions I made 5 years ago. I really get the most pleasure when I cant stop thinking about ALL the decisions ive ever made. Even the ones I had no control over, yet somehow feel as if they were my fault. Yea, Those are my absolute favorite nights. So instead of thinking, I attempt my hand at being productive, but lets face it there is only so much I can do at 4am without people thinking I’m a weirdo, crackhead, or a slut. So I draft email responses, edit some photos, write blogs, plan out my life, re structure my budget (for the 100th team in the last two months), jerk-off (twice within the hour, sometimes more if I have A LOT of energy and nothing to do), contemplate my need for re-assurance, apply for scholarships, think about a second job, apply for second jobs, etc.

Okay, seriously that list is never-ending. The point is proven. I stay productive A.F, but even when ALL the tasks are done and I re-attempt sleep I’m still kept wide awake by the demons eating at me. Reminding me to think about all the times I fucked up, I hurt someone, I let someone down, I let myself down. Inevitably, im jolted back up into action attempting to derail my current train of thought because at this point its like beating a dead horse with broken sticks. I’m not getting anywhere, and the thoughts continue to infiltrate. 


So to the monster hiding in my brain, the dreams that wont stop turning into nightmares, the sudden overwhelming feelings of despair and sadness. Please let me sleep. I don’t want to numb myself in order to sleep anymore. While it helps locking you away, I also lose a bit of myself in the process. I am not the same person when I wake up. Sometimes, I can’t wake up. I’ll even make a deal with you guys, if you let me sleep for, at least, 4 hours every night I will allow myself the opportunity to visit more often. Sounds like a SWEET deal to me. 


Oh, you want all of my time? 

Yea, that’s not gonna work for me. Well I didn’t want to do this, but its back to plan Z. PILLS. I’m gonna go knock t.f out now, and when I do finally wake up I’ll figure out a new game plan because this game has got to end eventually. Right?



someone that’s why too tired of being way too tired. 





Hey y’all,


so I know I haven’t written in this space in a LOOONNNNGGG time. I am going to attempt to change that. Starting with this post. I’m not sure why, but im going to be doing this blog writing “interview style”. I will be interviewing myself. Mono e mono. (Is that even correct). Oh well. Lesss-a Go. *Mario Voice*



 Inner Me: How have you been?

Regular Me: good?

Inner Me: good?

Regular Me: Okay. fine. I’ve been meh.

Would you care to elaborate on that?

Not really. It’s hard for me to open up to people and let them in on whats going on inside my head. 

But… I’m already in your head.

Well then… I guess this is fine. Well as you know I went traveling in January.

Yes, well aware. The pictures are wonderful!

Thank you, well I learned something about myself that I thought I had lost forever.

What was that?

A sense of purpose, belonging, and drive. 

So why are you feeling MEH?

Because since I’ve been back to Orlando, I haven’t done much with it. I feel like im at a standstill in life, and I’m not sure how to get out of it. It’s daunting. That opportunities that were given to me in January are things I can never take back and for that I am so grateful, but I feel as if I have I come back to my regular life as a brand new person. However, the world around me is still the same. I just don’t know how to cope with this feeling.

But aren’t you in the process of starting a few new things?

Yes, and while I am excited to make the announcement on exactly what those new projects are; it still doesn’t feel enough. I am still working my same retail job, still getting to drunk for no apparent reason,  still spending money I don’t have, & still generally fucking up. It feels as if I am in this void of take one step forward, but blowing everything behind me up. I just want to be able to continue to walk forward without destroying everything behind me.  I’m not even sure if that makes sense.

Sure it does, what do you think you can do about these feelings?

drugs… lots and lots of drugs.

but didn’t you try that before?


and it felt amazing… at the moment. I didn’t have the opportunity to think back then. I wasnt focused on my career, or helping people. I just wanted more drugs & sex. My mind was blank and it was wonderful…

do you remember what happened once you ran out of the drugs?

I feel into the deepest depression of my life. I tried to kill myself. I quit living. but this time will be different, this time I wont run out. 

You said that last time as well…

Your right… I know what you’re hinting at, and your correct. I need to learn from my past. I don’t want to fall back into that space. At least now I have some good days, and those outweigh even my blank days. 

It sounds like to me you are trying to crawl out of this depression hole

you are correct again. Depression is something that never quite goes away, but is rather a never-ending war between you and the monsters hiding in the corners of your psyche

so then drugs are out?

Yea, they have been out. Sometimes I just contemplate an “easier” time. Anyways wasnt this interview supposed to be an update on my life?

YAAASSSSSS, but then it turned into a therapy session. 

Fair enough.

So whats new in your world?

Well the Messages From a Sunflower social media is finally up and running. MFAS is no longer just a blog about my life, but it is all-inclusive positive space. The goal is to spread a positive light on the world one message at a time; plus I love sunflowers. I am also in the process of starting my own underwear line. More details on that to come. Other than that like I said earlier, it’s the same B.S and another rotation of the Earth has been completed. 

Well, im gonna stop the interview there. Maybe next time we can get your insight into exactly what trips you took in January?

Id love to. 

Till then. This has been a real treat.



What you just read is a real conversation that I really have with myself. Its been happening more frequently than not. While I am looking forward to what lies ahead, I cant seem to get excited about my current situation. I know the only person who can change that is me. I am not looking for pity, or a pat on the shoulder, or even a good job. Simply using this space to express my thoughts, and give a little insight. 


Till I build up the courage to write another post…






There is a famous quote from a movie about life. Well in all fairness there are ALOT of famous quotes from movies about life. The one I’m referring to is from Forrest Gump. Now I’ve never seen the movie in its entirety. It’s WAYYY to long, but I do know the quote.

“Life is like a box of chocolates; never know what your gonna get.”

My version is a bit different.

“Life is more like a puzzle game, you can only play defense for so long before the game starts to win.”

Earlier this week I found a super fun puzzle game. Now I’m not a huge fan of puzzles, but I continue to play them so that I can hopefully beat my boyfriend at one of them. So far I can’t, but when talking about this game with him he said something interesting.

He said,”the minute you start playing this game defensively your gonna lose”

I took what he said to heart and I’ve been getting better at the game ever since. However, I also started to think about that in terms of life. The majority of people that grew up in the ghetto, poor, or in a bad situation have had to adapt to being prepared for any scenario. I’m not exempt from that, nor am I questioning that behavior.

I’m pondering when did I turn from being prepared and still attacking life to prepping for the worse and scarred shitless to leave my house. I can’t answer that question.

I used to be so full of life.

I used to go after I want.

I used to have such a positive outlook.

Lately it seems…

that I’m in a lull. That I’m playing life on the defensive.

Yea, I’ve done things that seem like my life is in contrast of that statement. In all honesty though; everything I’ve done lately are tasks I KNEW i would excel at. When I think of an “offensive approach on life” I think of myself attacking things that could lead to failure and having the confidence to fail.

I know last week i said I was going to push myself to fail more and I am. This is more like a backstory behind that decision.

Oh and along with the back story I’m also informing my followers/readers I’m gonna take a break (YES AGAIN) from social media and possibly blogging.

Just to do another reevaluation. It could be 1 week it could be 1 month, but I will be logging off after this. So TTYL. P.s. My email will stay open for any artists that would like to collab with me when I return. I’ve changed the perimeters of the project, SO ANY ARTISTS THAT WANT TO TELL THERE STORY AND BE FEATURED PLEASE EMAIL ME!

PLUR Regards,
Tyler Hurt

MIR #4

So this week I feature an amazing young artists who goes by the name of MIR. They are from ny original home town SIN CITY(Las Vegas, NV.) When faced with darkness in their life MIR has consistently found a light in art, even when the light was almost nothing. The style of art is very rough and urban, but also present and in the moment. Almost like watching someone tag a mural. Without further ado I will let the work speak for itself; here is…

The Beast

Tempation. False pleasures. The beast. Don’t wake the sleeping giant. We all have the beast inside that waits for your weakest moments. It’s deceiving, and wants one more chance. It says, it will be different this time. It cares. A brand new opportunity, but it lies. It won’t be different. Welcome back to misery. It loves your company.

Break Free

Break free from the beast. Run and don’t look back. The past cannot be changed. Stay in your gift….the present. Do what you love, don’t make eye contact with the beast. There is no love where you used to lie with the beast. Use your passion for greatness. Inspire others to fight the beast. Knock that fucker out, let it sleep, and don’t wake it up.

In the words of this artist,” Art Saves Lives. LIVE, LOVE, CREATE.”
If you would like to contact them for additional projects all information is below:
IG: mirpaintz

As always if you would like to be featured on my blog the contact information is under “Contact Me”.

PLUR Regards

Tyler Hurt



No mistakes

Hello all my beautiful flower children,hope you missed me.

Let’s get a quick update on things going on in my life:

I’ve identified my insecurities in a relationship.

I’ve continued to pursue certain endeavors.

I’ve gained more recognition at work.

I’ve allowed myself the ability to fail.

I’ve acknowledged destructive behaviors.

But most importantly

I’ve understood that sometimes a break is good.

Over the last week or so I’ve taken a big step back from my blog, from my social media, from life in general. During this break I’ve made some big decisions(like always). I will ACTUALLY attempt to follow up with these decisions though, or at least for the next foreseeable future. 😂

Decision 1: stop making decisions based on number of likes

Decision 2: dive harder into my passions

Decision 3: change they way I use my blog(again)

Decision 4: stop apologizing for fucking up

Decision 5: start


I’m sure some people are wondering right now,” WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?”

I’ll you.

So a couple weeks ago I changed the format of my blog into more of a video format, hoping that was going to lead to more of a influx of likes, shares, etc. The videos I posted I did it in one shot with NO editing and it felt good, but I started doing something else on the back end. I noticed myself planning ahead for my videos. I was writing out exactly what I wanted to say.

While the majority of my readers may say,” what’s wrong with a little planning?”

My response,”EVERYTHING

I wasn’t allowing myself to be authentic. Some of you may have even noticed this change of mentality, months ago, before the videos started. I asked a friend to edit my posts before I actually posted them. She was a GREAT help and she is an AMAZING wittier/speaker/mother/friend. She didn’t change the story, but she did help with grammar, spelling structure and sometimes would ask additional questions to get more content out of me. While I appreciate ALL of her help(if your reading this I thank you SOOO MUCH). I knew our time working together would be brief. Not because she didn’t want to help, but because in the back of my mind I didn’t truly want the help.

I need this blog to be 💯 me. All spelling mistakes, bad grammar, fuck ups and all. While I love writing I don’t want to turn into a writer. I write for myself, I write for my anxiety, I write because it’s the only way I know how to speak.

When a person makes “No Mistakes” they don’t learn.

When a person makes “No Mistakes” they don’t grow.

When I make “No Mistakes” I feel withered.

When I make “No Mistakes” I feel terrified.

Terrified of when I will make a mistake.

Terrified of what reaction I may receive.

Terrified of why it may be.

Terrified of who will be involved.

Terrified of where this may take place.

Terrifed of how my anxiety will take over.

So no longer will I make No Mistakes”. I’m gonna FUCK UP and your just gonna have to deal.

PLUR Regards,

Tyler Hurt