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Emergence - lvleganSome people are born knowing that they are gay. It's just natural to them. They never have to question it. They just always know. Then there are people like myself that it takes a little longer to figure out.
Though I guess I should have figured it out when I was younger. I remember after my parents got separated that my mom, my sister, and I moved in with my grandparents. My mom worked nights as a dispatcher for the police department so most of the time it was just my sister and I with my grandparents. We would all eat supper together and then we could go to the living room to watch television. My favorite nights were those when "Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman" would come on. I would lay down on the floor in front of the television completely and utterly enamored with Jane Seymour. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Every time she came on screen my heart would race and my stomach would tighten, I was too young too understand what was going on though.
As I got older I felt out of place and odd
Never Believe -1337M457312Fade in ---
Prince song playing in background
Two women sitting in a van, driver and passenger. Driver is mother, passenger 16yearold daughter.
-looks at radio-
who plays this?
Isnt he bisexual?
So? Thats evil! How can you just say so?
Youve been hopelessly corrupted by society
What is this world even coming to?
Now I expect youll be telling me all about your friends
That are gay and how its right and feels right
And how youre gay and you love your girlfriend
And you just want to have a happy life
--keeps talking, fades to background noise. Girls cell rings.
-flips open cell and smiles. Zoom to text message
hey darling, I love you. cant wait to see you! <3, Kelly
--moms voice gets louder. Fade out. Fade in to girl getting out of car, another girl next to the car.
Have a good time, girls! Stay safe!
Q and A - Anonymous"Why?" that is my ultimate question.
But I know the answers.
Q: "Why am I so scared?"
A: We live in a small town, people can't know we're "different."
Q: "Why does my heart speed up every time I hear your voice?"
A: You're voice is one of the most beautiful sounds on earth.
Q: "Why can't I tell you how I feel?"
A: I am scared you will reject me, you don't like women much.
Q: "Why do I hate your ex, even though your better off without him?"
A: He broke you're heart. You still love him. I wish you would love me instead.
Q: "Why do I always hope you'll call when I am down?"
A: You know what to say to make me feel better… and I love talking with you.
Q: "Why can't I talk to everyone about how great you are?"
A: We are both women, and we are both still in the closet.
Q:"Why can't I leave Him to be with you?"
A: I Love Him too
But the most important answer to "WHY" is:
Because I Love You.
Because I love two people, totally
Coffee - precautionsSometimes, I handed over the cup
in the mornings, when you needed it. I knew
you needed it because you were there, and
every particle longs to satisfy that need.
And as I watched you sip life from
my cup, I knew you'd complain that you could
taste the sugar, or maybe that it was cold.
Of this, it would suffice to say
I was destroyed.
In these mornings, I saw a neon in your eyes
that I often wondered about. Did anyone else see?
I made the discovery the first time
you needed something,
and I brought my cup to your lip and said,
"It makes everything better."
I remember because of that light
that persuaded itself into visibility.
And now I knew that there would be no light in the world
without that glow. I wanted to prolong that dawn
and permanently end your night.
But, it was an artificial light, and it wasn't
even me that brought it along. That light was
a flash of neurons firing in your head.
And as the world plunged back into night,
I accepted the cup and you returned it, saying,
Mr. President - LezzieLexi2...Come here,
Let me show something.
And look over this crowd.
What do you see here?
"Good Americans who vote,"
"Well dressed, business
Yes, that is who they are.
Now take a look
What do you see?
"A sea of rainbow,"
"Too much pride,"
I am bringing up
From either crowd.
Look at this woman
What do you see?
"A hard working
Who knows what she's doing."
Yes, she is.
Now look at this man.
What do you see?
"A gay man
Who flaunts everything
And a man who
begs for marriage
And is too proud
For his own good"
That is where you
This man is a gay man,
But he is also a hard working
Who knows what he's doing.
This is a hard-working
But she is also
Who flaunts it
When shes done with work
For You Tell Me SoI am sick.
I am wrong.
I am a sinner.
I am a threat.
I am a defect.
I am immoral.
I am mutated.
I am a pervert.
I am shameful.
I am abnormal.
I am unnatural.
I am shameless.
I am disgusting.
I am distasteful.
I am compulsive.
I am destructive.
I am sacrilegious.
I am promiscuous.
I am a delinquent.
I am blasphemous.
I am incompatible.
I am just not right.
I am an abomination.
I should be saved.
I should be healed.
I should be converted.
I should be condemned.
I should be hospitalized.
I should commit suicide.
I should be punished by death.
I have a sexual disorder.
I have committed a crime.
I am not what you say I am.
I should not be who you say I should be.
I have not done what you say I have done.
I will not be who you say I should be.
I am who I say I am.
I have an amazing personality.
I have an open heart.
I have an open mind.
I have aspirations.
I have dreams.
I should not have to be afraid.
I should be treated equally.
I should not be oppressed.
I should not be criticized.
MotherYou made me in an act of love.
You had me,
swore to raise me.
Brought me up,
your little girl,
swore you'd love no matter what.
Guess what, Mom.
You love me, right?
What do you mean,
No, this isn't
No, I can't just like boys.
This is nothing
to be ashamed of.
What do you mean,
yes it is?
I'm your daughter.
You love me, right?
What do you mean,
This is part of who I am.
Did you just tell me,
Chapter 3 - RevisedMr. Olson wasnt in the room but the TV and the video were already set up with a piece of paper on a desk stating several questions I had to answer. I peered down at the sheet and answered the majority of them without the need of the video. Picking up the remote on the desk, I fast-forwarded through the film to the two questions I didnt have. Answering them quickly, I wrote my name on the top of the page and left everything there. I slung my bag back over my shoulder and looked at my watch; not even five minutes had passed.
Anna was still in Mrs. Genaldis room, so I stopped in.
You comin'? I asked.
Can you hold on a sec?
Yeah, sure. I walked into the room and took a stool next to her, watching her concentrated face as she made a few final strokes. When she started putting things away, I got up and helped her.
Normally Im not a very shy person, but Anna struck me
Chapter 2 - RevisedThe walk to school was shorter than it usually seemed, but that could have been because I had so much on my mind. In fact, I almost forgot to look around before I crossed the intersection in front of the school. I was looking at the ground and the zebra stripes reminded me I was on a crosswalk. Looking up quickly, I realized I was safe to run to the median. After letting a car pass in the opposite lane, I crossed over and continued my concentrated look at the ground until I came up to the building.
My hand grasped the door handle and it felt so cold. I released it in shock, only to realize my hands were hot and clammy. I was so nervous to see if Anna had looked in my sketchbook. This really shouldn't have been a problem; it contained no personal influence. All of the sketches and artwork in there were strictly for the class and I put barely any emotion into them. The only unfinished piece
five.Five is the number of times you worry he’s stopped breathing, as the surgeons carve around his heart, twisting away the plaque ridden arteries, and pulling a vein out of his leg. Five is the number of heart wrenching hours you and your family were waiting in the hospital room, worried that your lives would crumble, that there would be five members of the family instead of six, that five days out of the week he would not come home for dinner, that five kisses from him would no longer be given to his wife and four children. Five was the amount of fingernails you bit off while watching people enter and exit the waiting room, and the amount of minutes your mother spent on the phone, explaining that something was wrong. Five is the critical difference between holding a father’s hand as your mother cries into his heart shaped pillow. The difference between rejoicing and smiling weakly because he’s okay or carrying your father’s American-flag-covered-casket and watchin
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