Archives May 2023

Once the temperatures plummeted and the foliage began shifting hues, an odd sensation took hold of me. I acquired a brand-new bed—it was as if my previous one was suddenly revolting and antiquated. I donated a substantial portion of my wardrobe—over a third remains a puzzle as to my former belief that all that coordinated linen rendered me “sophisticated” and not akin to Nigel Thornberry. I hastily arranged a hair stylist visit—I don’t recall enlisting their aid to invoke Rod Stewart’s aura previously, but such must have transpired somehow. It felt as though, with autumn’s onset, emerged the impulse to rejuvenate my existence completely. Enter something I solemnly endorse: the grand autumn revamp.

Traditionally, spring is the time designated for overhauling our lives, which, on paper, is logical. It symbolizes fresh starts and warmth, and you cease feeling like a semi-frozen, lumbering medieval crone each transition from one room to another. Yet, I’ve persistently realized that, practically, fall stands superior for reinventing one’s whole life. During this period, your wardrobe transforms utterly. The declining temperatures permit actual thought (in the blazing summer, “getting out of bed” suffices to urge an Aperol Spritz and a solitary cigarette). Additionally, it’s likely because many of us still associate autumn with beginning a new school term. Vaguely recalling school days, I nonetheless inexplicably face the compulsion to purchase new stationery every September. Thus, it has been advantageous to channel that distinct energy as an adult.

Additionally, autumn seems the most pragmatic for a comprehensive life reset because come winter, ventures are few. The period is lengthy and wintry, spent lounging on your laptop till the afternoon, indulging in Oreos while leisurely half-viewing The Holiday on your mother’s sofa and browsing Instagram. It’s not conducive for a complete transformation. Naturally, there are New Year’s pledges, and I do relish the tidy symmetry of commencing anew on New Year’s Day, but making significant life adjustments during deep winter’s bleakness, when unveiling the curtains resembles a Silent Hill teaser, is daunting. Indeed, all indicators suggest autumn is the prime moment for hitting the reset button.

To clarify, when mentioning “grand autumn revamp,” I don’t imply obsessive brooding over physical or mental enhancements that often just diminish our self-worth (although I’m endeavoring to care less about others’ opinions, and aspire to acquire notably strong arms). It’s more about practical and lifestyle-related shifts. Procuring a quality winter coat. Conducting a comprehensive fridge cleanout. Assembling and donating unneeded books to charity. Through experience, I’ve discerned that decluttering your life generally initiates a chain reaction on a mental and physical level. You’ll find no necessity to pledge vague assurances of “becoming more optimistic” or “prioritizing rest” when a comfortable new mattress already conveys that notion.

Ultimately, you’re under no obligation to perform any significant reset at any time of year if you’re disinclined (understandably). Amid constant bombardment with directives promising to enhance our selves à la The Substance, occasionally lounging with a substantial bowl of pasta while viewing YouTube—our desired plan—brings relief. But if you’re mulling over a bedroom remodel, exploring a novel hairdo, aspiring to embody a trench coat and leather gloves-wearer, or at last tackling that peculiar “everything” nook in the kitchen, delay not until spring. Give it a shot now—you won’t lament it.

World AIDS Day comes annually on the 1st of December, yet it remains one of the more perplexing—and I must add, often feared—occasions in the AIDS community. Those who advocate are frequently obligated to decide between grieving the absence of dear ones or utilizing the day, acknowledged globally, to spotlight the ongoing challenges that still prevent us from realizing a generation free of AIDS. With an approaching administration that made promises to “transform” our healthcare, taking advice from one of the most prominent voices in the anti-science and denialist movement, our inclination to resist has never been more apparent or critical. If the initial AIDS activism and our ACT UP veterans imparted any lesson to us, it is in the way to collectively and passionately fight for one another and persist during moments of hopelessness.

Occasionally, I am inquired on how my journey in AIDS activism began. Although pinpointing the exact moment is challenging, I will forever recall the location—Room 207 at the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Community Center during an ACT UP (AIDS Coalition to Unleash Power) assembly in New York City. Immediately, I felt I belonged. There’s plenty of romanticized documentation and portrayals of ACT UP in the media, yet I always encounter astonishment when individuals realize that ACT UP is still active and perseveres in crucial work across its chapters.

When I became part of ACT UP NY, we were several years into the FDA’s sanctioning of oral PrEP (pre-exposure prophylaxis). Although there was a drug available that, when consumed daily, can efficiently prevent HIV infection, its pharmaceutical producer, Gilead Sciences, was inflating the price by 66%, potentially imposing a cost of up to $24,000 annually on users. This revelation of price exploitation became even more unsettling when it was unearthed that the funding for the trials originated from US taxpayers’ contributions.

Almost a decade has passed, and now multiple generic versions of oral PrEP exist in the market—but fairness still eludes us. As per the US CDC and cited in PrEP in Black America’s For Us By Us document, 91% of Black Americans who could gain from PrEP have never obtained a prescription. This is particularly significant as we contemplate the recent (and thrilling) findings from the PURPOSE 1 and 2 trials for lenacapavir, a semiannual injectable PrEP that showed remarkable efficacy among cisgender women (PURPOSE 1) and gay men, transgender, and nonbinary individuals (PURPOSE 2) in disaster prevention (it’s currently sanctioned as a therapy for the illness, not an equal preventative option to the daily oral medication). Although the cost remains uncertain, it’s known that the price of lenacapavir as therapy is currently an astounding $42,250 for the first year, despite the potential for substantial profitability at merely $40 annually. It is also known that the producer of lenacapavir, once again Gilead Sciences (noticing a pattern here?), declared plans to authorize generic forms of the drug in 120 countries—excluding nations like Argentina, Brazil, Mexico, and Peru—all of which significantly contributed to the trial’s success through participation.