Oasis Journals | A Writing Community for Queer and Questioning Youth.

Torie Osborn By Jeff Walsh

As is the case with any journey, where you've been is just as important as where you're going. Whether your specific journey is life, a well-earned vacation or gay liberation, you need to be able to look at a map and be able to point at where you are at present to better understand the future direction.

Kevin, 22, of Raleigh, NC

By Jeff Walsh

On Oct. 10, a group of North Carolina State University students were painting notices supportive of National Coming Out Day in the university's Free Expression Tunnel. "It's a great day to come out" and similar messages being painted by gay student group members were meant to encourage people to disclose their sexual orientation in a friendly, supportive manner.

About 10 students came through the tunnel as the group was painting, according to Kevin, the co-chair of the gay student group. The group of seemingly-drunk students was quick to disclose both their sexual orientation - heterosexual -- and their dislike of anyone who didn't share that orientation.

Keeping it real... with Sean Sasser

Sean Sasser By Jeff Walsh

For many gay youth, falling in love is a distant dream. While their heterosexual peers are making their first awkward forays into dating and romance, queer teens usually either play it straight or go asexual. Few are out, and those who are usually can't find a date due to lack of options.

Latest journal entries.

Lists, Lists, Lists, The Joy Of my Day

25 February, 2003 - 7:20am — Beryl

I hate how stupid things make me jealous.
I hate how I thought I got over being jealous but I guess I lied.
I hate how I can't seem to find a still point, the world seems determined to move so fast I get lost in the vertigo.
I hate howI can't write good things.
I hate how I can't write like I used to, when it wasn't bitching-in-poetry.
I hate how much I hate.
I hate how everything I think is true contradicts the truth.

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Beryl's journal

Attraction or Admiration? -and- Girls as Friends?

25 February, 2003 - 6:59am — RoaG

As I've slowly become more aware of the possibility that any of the girls I know could be more with me, I've almost wished that my feelings had remained obscure. When the dance teacher comes close to me to show me where my position on the stage will be, I can smell her sweet perfume and am thinking about how attractive she is. I looks at the beautiful asian girls in my class and almost feel sad as I realize how nice they look. So then I started wondering: What's the different between simply admiring a woman's beauty - and feeling jealous - and being... turned on by what one sees? I think I intuitively know the answer to this, but whenever it comes to sexuality issues I second-guess myself.

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RoaG's journal

after wallace stevens, what is left?

25 February, 2003 - 4:28am — linds

modernist fragmentation, re-interpreted

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Linds's journal

the Hospital, and Jail

25 February, 2003 - 3:05am — xX_Grandmaster_Xx

I haven't been on for a while, sorry.

On Thursday, my mom found me blacked out in my bathroom. No one comes in my room so I had been there for a while. She couldn't wake me up because I had overdosed on Lituims, and painkillers, not to mention I had been using weed. She took me to the hospital and I had to get my stomach pumped. You don't want that expierence, trust me.

My brother, Jack, he's a year older than me (18) and him and his girlfriend got busted for selling and possesion of coke, and some weed and stuff. They go to court soon.

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XX_Grandmaster_Xx's journal

Poem, and then a letter to a slutty ass bitch

25 February, 2003 - 2:41am — Craves_Blood

my poem ~feb. 23, 2003

I can't feel; I can't breathe
My throat shuts off
The pain is numbed by the fact I want to die
My lungs burn as the water comes in
The slits on my wrists bleed
As the water turns a dark red
My eyes are open and stare at nothing
I wait for him, the angel of death
To take me to hell, at least it's better then this.

~*~*~*

My letter to Stacy, former friend. She called me a slut on Friday for some stupid shit. I sent it in the mail yesterday.

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