By Jeff Walsh
Justin Clouse was never beat up because he's gay. He wasn't threatened, harassed or even suicidal. He began telling people he was gay in the tenth grade, and no one freaked out or called him names.
"I realize that doesn't make for interesting copy," Justin says apologetically. "I think that's a lot of people's misperception -- If I'm going to come out, a lot of people are going to beat me up and harass me."
By Jeff Walsh
The thought of having sex with a guy turns Sara Webb's stomach.
"The first serious boyfriend I had wanted to have intercourse," the 17-year-old Atlanta resident recalls. "I threw up on him. I was repulsed by it."
Webb doesn't have a problem with guys, though, just sex with guys. "To this day, guys, I find, are my best friends," she says. "I love them to death as friends and I'm emotionally attracted to guys, but if anything physical ever happens, I'm just repulsed."
By Jeff Walsh
Matt Marco was everything a student should be.
In his Edwardsville, Ill., high school, he was a chairperson on the student council and a member of the National Honor Society, drama club, chess club and French club.
"I had the basic overachiever resume," Marco says. "I was very well-known, very well-liked and I was going to be a foreign exchange student to France my senior year."
Let me tell you, my step-mother was a nasty piece of work. Greedy, manipulative, conniving and evil. She had given birth, the result of her first trap, to a male reptile two years younger than I. A boy who would live his life just as protected and probably even more swaddled outside of her womb as he was when he was still at the larva stage of his development.
Hey everyone. I'm back again. I've been pretty sick. I will probably get surgery in the next month or so. I hope it'll make me better. I might have to stop dancing for awhile. It's pretty depressing. I'll live though.
In the summer, the weed will ascend through the air, drifting in the comfort of the breezes that puncture the heat.
To avoid wilting, dig through the basic soil and lift the vegetation. Separate the roots and hold the leaves in the heat of the sun. As the acid pours from a cloudless sky, allow the plant to metamorphose and play with imaginary letters in a disillusioned Heaven.
As the music stops, pull the television chord and allow the Earth to choke to death.
The needles and discs of PVC were the harbingers of transcendence.
Today in my Acting class we were doing our autodramas
for those of you who don't know an Autodrama is when you create a play for your self and whoever you want to pull into it and really the only rule is that the play has to be about you or some part of your life, and I decided to make my play into a sort of coming out story.
I can only hope this link works correctly, otherwise feel free to watch this on youtube. The first game since the bombing and the fans took over the National Anthem from Rene Rencourt( The official Anthem singer for as long as I can remember). Typically, the fans force Rene to Drown-out the cheers toward the end of the Anthem. He increases his volume(He's an former opera singer), but this time he gestured for the fans to take over. You've got to check this out, it clearly illustrates the spirit of Bostonians. The video can also be seen on foxsports.com.
The Colombian congress is debating about approving gay marriage and it seems that it will be approved (I hope so!). I never thought that here something like that would be approved or even debated because we are a religious, mostly conservative country, but things are getting better.
Just the fact that you are able to read this is a miracle, a side effect of four teens who overcame their deepest pain to try to do something positive.
If I've lost you here, bear with me. You may see a bit of yourself in what we have to say.
My name's Alex, I'm thirteen, and I live in the middle of nowhere in a small town just like many other small towns in our country. I can't use any real names here, but what I write is true. I have hopes, dreams, and secrets.
Actually, too many secrets. Which is part of why I'm here tonight, pouring out my soul.
My lost soul.