Last night I was seriously considering whether I was a bisexual or not but I don’t think so though I’m not sure if I’d like to be and argh I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, if you like a person, you like the person, not their genitals.
The single best thing about coming out of the closet is that nobody can insult you by telling you what you've just told them.
When did the skin on our bodies, the difference in our voice, or the direction our heart takes us decide whether or not we should have human rights?
Try not to be self-conscious […] or so critical. Don’t mope around looking for someone else to make you happy, and remember that the vast majority of homosexuals are looking for a superman to love and find it very difficult to love anyone merely human, which we unfortunately happen to be.
Even in the gay spots around town, he could walk in and suddenly realize he was the only person of color in the room. He faced questions in all the eyes he greeted. What’s he doing here? Does he think he’s one of us? How ironic that even here in the nation’s self-proclaimed “gay summer capital” he should feel unwanted, excluded.
I imagined a time when being gay is as unquestioned and un-judged as is having blue eyes. Some might call it fantasy or science fiction. I’d like to think it’s the future.
You know, when people who were once religious no longer believe in God, they never really change; they just go on, hunting for the ecstatic food, trying to satisfy that hunger.
This is a team of gay dudes, isn't it?"
What gave it away? The pink shirts, or half our team drooling over you?
I was doing my little stand up shtick, the one I did for pretty girls, so they'd like me quickly and wouldn't try too hard to actually get to know me beyond my role as wisecracking Cameron, the orphan. Maybe it was a little like flirting, but also a kind of protection: Don't get too close; I'm just jokes with substance.
They were bound together by a common love of a certain kind of music, physical beauty, and style - all the things one shouldn’t throw away an ounce of energy pursuing, and sometimes throw away a life pursuing.
Living for beauty is all very fine, but it’s a hard regimen and burns up the heart very quickly.
He could be boastful in a way pleasantly at odds with his native fatalism, and his youthful stubbornness had a way of ameliorating into a sort of wounded dignity, which was centered in the darting passes of his deep-set, dark eyes.
Hi honey, I’m home! Take your pants off!” Wesley announced. He kissed my cheek as he passed me and put his lunch container in the sink.
Hell, yes," Dev says, sitting up now. "Don't get me wrong - we're totally going to make the beast with two backs tonight. But if we do it right, it's going to feel like holding hands.
Did I use enough lube last night?”
I turned my head to the side and closed my eyes with blushing
cheeks. “Don’t…don’t call it that.”
“What? Lube?” he asked. I nodded and covered my mouth with my
hand. He chuckled and smirked. “All right, did I use enough stuff last
night?”
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Fin da piccole sapevano quanto poco valore il mondo attribuisse ai libri, e non perdevano tempo a leggerli. Mentre io, anche adesso, continuo a credere che quei puntini neri su fondo bianco abbiano il più alto dei significati, che se insisto a scrivere potrò cogliere l'arcobaleno della coscienza e rinchiuderlo in un barattolo.
Good luck on your test.”
“I’m gonna ace it for sure!” I said, rolling to Wesley’s side of the
bed and pulling the sheet up.
“Don’t I know it,” he smiled, and then slapped the doorframe. “Oh
yeah. If Gus calls, just tell him I was balls-deep in your ass and that I’m
on my way now.
Writing is the place where I can be as bold and compassionate and wise as I choose.
your morse code interferes with my heart beat. I had a steady heart before you, I replied upon it, it had seen active service and grown strong. Now you alter its pace with your own rhythm you play upon me, drumming me taught.
You know, we queens loathed rain at the beach, small cocks, and reality, I think. In that order.
It happened to me just this year with a beautiful boy I started hanging out with. Call me a hormonal teenager if you want, but evidently I haven’t grown out of this experience. His name, his voice, his face, his laugh - anything was enough to make my heart start beating faster. It’s the spark.
No. I don´t think it does go away. I know it won´t for me. I will keep busy. I will distract myself. I will eventually have days when I don´t have to remind myself to breathe. I know Nasrin will exist, maybe even be happy, and I will be okay. I ´ll bury my love, but it will never really go away.
People like to say being gay isn't like skin color, isn't anything physical. They tell us we always have the option of hiding.
But if that's true, why do they always find us?
Janet R. Jakobsen And Ann Pellegrini
Tolerance is certainly an improvement over hate, but it is not the same thing as freedom.
Barriers were being torn down. Where Freddie Mercury was trying to keep his homosexuality from the front pages, Boy George was openly & outrageously gay.
Gray,” he whispered in his ear.
Grayson moaned softly in return.
“I'm here for you. I exist only for you. Tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it.
Konnor wanted to touch and taste him, and take him to the point of ecstasy where he couldn't even remember his own name. And Grayson was more than willing to let him do that.
“Yes, that too.” He smiled, as if he found his surprise amusing. He leaned forward until their lips were inches from each other and whispered, “Anything.
Even with the Boy Scouts admitting openly gay youths, its exclusion of LGBT adults teaches our children by example what the organization really thinks about them - and what they should think about themselves.
It’s time for the Boy Scouts to open its membership to LGBT adults once and for all. Only then can they claim to have anything to teach our children.
People think that LGBTs adopting children will hurt them, but it's not being in loving homes that hurts children most.
I mostly believe, deep in my bones, that life is very simply beyond description; regardless of what one makes of it, life always spills over the parameters of how anyone has chosen to define it.
For her and Nurul merely to share a meal cooked in their own kitchen was a triumph; to wake up together each morning a luxury.
For you cannot live in New York City very long and not be conscious of the niceties of being rich - the city is, after all, an ecstatic exercise in merchandising - and one evening of his visit to Venezuela Sutherland sat straight up when he read a line of Santayana’s: “Money is the petrol of life.
Unnatural, unorthodox, amoral: those pretensions crumble when confronted by true happiness. You shouldn't give another the authority to draw a line defining the boundaries of acceptable joy.
Prejudice is learned. What will you teach others through your actions and words?
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