After hanging out with a certain group of people,
this is how I feel today:
I've always liked Comic Sans. It must be a gay font because naturally my whole life revolves around my being a lesbian, right? I have no personality beyond gayness. My interests, my likes, my dislikes, it can all be rooted back to my being gay and whatever I say or don't say to you is, of course, because I'm gay. Right?
Don’t you know what I think about you,
As you’re staring down at the water,
On a shore that seems endless
As long as you’re there to keep the waves away?
Don’t you see yourself, a shining replica of you
Locked in my eyes when my heart aches for your arms?
This feeling… like the time you laughed,
Your hair sweeping my hand briefly
One morning in the sleepless summer we met.
It doesn’t feel like a new year. Not 2004, but not really 2003 either. Just sorta yearless in a way.
It was this year in which I honestly believed I would come out to my parents. I made one of those semi-promises to myself that I’d be out by the end of 2004. Sure, in some ways it’s a good goal to have, but in other ways it still seems like some impossible feat.
The thought of telling my mom makes me cringe. Does it mean I’m not proud of who I am? Or maybe that I’m not confident enough in who she is, and how she’ll take it. And dad, ugh. See, it’s one thing to tell a friend. It’s another to tell it to the two people that have watched me grow up, the people who symbolize “home
It’s really such a stirring, electric night outside as I sit here with the bluish glowing computer light on my face. For being in the city I can see the stars very well, and if I was just a little crazier I think I’d run out under them…as cold as it is out there. I imagine I’d stay there, absorbing the thoughts which sweet nights can bring and I’d remain there as long as I could until that nagging feeling sets in—the one that I get when reality beckons me back again.
Well, I haven't had a satisfying amount of time to run my eyes over Oasis in a while; I believe it's time to catch up. I'm very much in the writing mood at the moment...poetry, perhaps?
And, of course, I know who to write about. Love is the true inspirer, is it not?
Conversing with heaven in the cafeteria,
I sink quietly at the sound of my own name
Pronounced with your angelic voice,
And those soft undertones with which you speak it.
I believe (your beauty distracts...) you're describing your day for me
And I live to know, I do.
If I spent a thousand days on an alien world,
None would be more fascinating
Than a day in your life, filled with aspects of you.
But still your voice melts away in my ear
And all I can do is watch you, paying attention to me
Giving me your thoughts like precious gifts
Focusing on me like I’m worth you
Like I deserve to be addressed by your ocean-eyes.
Why must you be of my kind?
You pain bringer...torturer,
And sower of the most wonderful happiness.
I’d take you to the rye forever
And tell you of how you dim the stars…
I hope you all have a MARVELOUS Christmas! (or Hanukah or anything else...I see now the benefits of using "happy holidays")
No, I’m not going to pretend that she doesn’t affect me. Already I’ve spent too many precious hours denying and confirming my denial rather than facing the light that I know I so desperately need. The myriads of emotions in me seem endless...and she's at the source. Why??
First of all, this appears to be a very accepting, awesome community of people and that's what compelled me to sign up. I was so blown away by some of the talent I came across while reading blogs (stars and nothing is in all honesty one of the best writers I've had the privilege of reading, hats off to her) that it was almost impossible for me not to create an account here.
I'm still closeted, unfortunately, and I haven't got the slightest idea when I'll have the guts to come out. But joining Oasis seems like the first logical step, and I can't wait to start posting here. :)