It’s 3 AM Again

•November 28, 2012 • Leave a Comment

Had another crisis of faith the other day.  Coming out to myself is harder than it seemed.  It terrifies me to think that I might just be tricking myself. What if I wake up one day to realize that I’m not really a lesbian, and instead I’m . . what?  A girl who can’t have a steady relationship?  Asexual?  Nothing at all?

And what is this strange desire within me, that wakes me up from my nap, crying, picturing myself as a man and wanting that?  But I don’t want to change my body.  I like this one.  It’s the one I’ve always had.  Changing it feels like something so completely unalterable, a death of this first self.

Death is alien.  I only want to do it once.

But damn, women are beautiful.  Curves and long hair and sweet smiles and cuteness and sometimes with those exquisite hard edges that make my breath catch, and I want it.  I want kisses and cuddles, to hold and be held, passionate love that swells within me until it has to spill over somewhere.

But sex?

Masturbation’s fine, thanks.

With boys, sex was something that went along with relationships.  I allow it to happen at specific and appropriate times, so as to not appear a slut and yet not appear a prude.

Sex with women, though, who knows what that could be.  Maybe it’ll be beautiful and fulfilling, like it is in the movies.  Or maybe it’ll be awkward and endearing.  Maybe I won’t feel like I’m doing it wrong all the time.  Isn’t sex supposed to make you feel connected to someone, like you’ve shared something sacred and intimate?

I’ve never felt like that, and it makes me feel like I’m not normal.

I want homosexuality to solve my problems, and I’m scared it won’t.

They laugh at me when I say I’m scared I’ll never find love, and I guess it is silly, but I’m dead serious.

You know what, though?  For the first time in years, I’m thinking about something other than how great the past was.  And for the first time in my life, my future holds more than the monochrome tones of housewife or career woman.  I can have so many futures.  There’s no role to fill, no position to take, no attitude to assume, no correct style, no right way.  I get to choose.

I can be anything.

Who knew asking one tiny question about my sexuality could change so much about how I see my life?

President Obama nominates first openly gay Latina judge to U.S. District Court

•November 28, 2012 • Leave a Comment

Hey, Pennsylvania!! Yay for my state!! But more so for the FIRST GAY HISPANIC WOMAN TO SERVE ON THE FEDERAL BENCH!! It’s nice to have a positive story here and there.

NBC Latino

Tuesday morning, President Barack Obama nominated two Latino judges from Philadelphia to fill the seats for the district court in Pennsylvania.

Obama nominated Judge Nitza I. Quiñones Alejandro and Judge Luis Felipe Restrepo, along with Judge Jeffrey L. Schmeh, to the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.

If confirmed by the Senate, Judge Quiñones Alejandro would become the first gay Hispanic woman to serve on the federal bench, according to the Human Rights Campaign. Formerly, Quiñones Alejandro was the first Hispanic woman to serve as a judge on the Philadelphia County Court of Common Pleas when she was appointed in 1991. She was previously a lawyer in the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs and an attorney adviser for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services.

Restrepo has been a magistrate judge in the Eastern District since 2006. As the former president of the Hispanic Bar Association of Pennsylvania, Restrepo has long been…

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The Audience

•November 26, 2012 • Leave a Comment

It didn’t use to matter.

I would write for hours, fill up pages no one would see.  Love songs, battle cries, beautiful, beautiful prayers.  Words that couldn’t hide that gentle tug of despair, Something’s not right here.

It didn’t matter then.  I heard my voice everywhere, bounced back at me like one of those silly rounds we all used to do when we were 13 and in chorus class.  Chorus class.  Ha.

It matters now though, doesn’t it?

 

Cute (^-^)/

•November 21, 2012 • Leave a Comment

Muslim Man In France Seeks To Open Mosque For Gays

•November 20, 2012 • Leave a Comment


Be careful about how you generalize, while this may be true in some countries, it’s certainly not true in Egypt, and even less true in countries like Tunisia. I don’t know the statistics for gang rape against men in prison (and I’m sure the ones that exist are wildly inaccurate) but there are LGBTQ people here (Egypt) who have parties and their own cafes and things. Of course, no one talks about it. It’s like the entire country is under Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.
Read the Article at HuffingtonPost

البيت، فيه القلب

•November 13, 2012 • Leave a Comment

هناك، في هذا مكان، حيث فيه زحمة وشباب ومافيش حكومة، هناك المسلمون يتكلمون عن القران، وعندما سيموتون النبي محمد يناديهم ليرخع الى الجنة، وماعرفش ايه تاني.

ومع هذا شباك صغير منكن اشوف مكان حيث الكلم مختلف، وانا اعرف هذا الكلم كما اعرف قلبي، هم يعيشون في وسط جسمي، وانا اعيش فيهم.

دي الحقيقة

وفي الحقيقة، البيت ، فيه قلبي

بس احنا يد واحد، صح؟

بنعمل ايه كدا؟

والبقية ايه؟

الحب، او الاختلافات؟

Maybe Tomorrow Will Be Better

•October 23, 2012 • Leave a Comment

“Oh God, just shut the fuck up.  Why are you even speaking?”

Evan hurls his words across the room like they’re china plates.

“But – ”

“Do you think I give a fuck what your opinion is on my work?  What the hell do you think you know?  Honestly Niah, it’s like you think you have some talent for something other than sex.”

This stings.

“I just – ”

“Well just don’t.”

“Evan!”  This time he’s annoyed.  The book in Evan’s hands is suddenly slammed on the table.

“Really?  You want to have an argument now?  Right now?  Just once, in you’re fucking worthless life, could you shut your mouth?  Daddy’s got real, big-boy shit to deal with now, so why don’t you just run along and play quietly.  Or better yet, do the fucking dishes.  I’ve had enough of this mess.”

Evan goes back to his book, and Niah feels his entire being slump, just a little.  He opens his mouth in an attempt to mutter a desperate I’m not worthless.  Instead he finds himself in front of the sink.

 
believe it. do it. live it.

the journey and recollection of life one step at a time

This [Queer] American Life

If a bullet should enter my brain, let that bullet destroy every closet door - Harvey Milk

the lazy photographer

just take the damn picture already!

Espen Stenersrød- From Pen To Heart

Jack Kerouac with a scent of Henry Vaughn