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I know it’s every queer persons reality especially Hispanics but I’m really getting tired of seeing religion being such a huge part of queer stories.
Lol bi panic with the hot siblings
Let’s do the things that will lead to us becoming the people we want to be.”
This book kind of remind me of all those raunchy high school movies like 16 candles, porkies, super bad, etc where in the entire movie the boys are just trying to get laid. Lol
Lmao
Lol oh I remember those days
“Believe me, I’ve thought about it, but I’ve come to the mature conclusion that even Geminis deserve love.” She pauses. “In some cases.”
My mom would gladly pick up some extra shifts at CVS to pay for “Gay Be Gone” or “Queer Remover” or “Bye-Bye Bi” or whatever they’d call it. My dad would be okay with smiling extra wide at the white guy with the BMW to get a bigger tip at the car wash if it meant having a normal son.
I do hold my chin up higher and puff my chest out a little. It’s not an act; it’s just how you gotta be sometimes.
My room’s the hottest in the house because why would it not be.
Same
It would be so much easier not to feel anything for anyone at all. The problem is I feel so much.
If I make a move on a guy, I’m not the only one who’d feel the effects of that.
That’s how a lot of queer teenagers feel. It’s not just the fear of rejection but the fear of being outed, fear of losing a friendship, fear of being murdered.
It’s funny how everything’s a double entendre when you’re living a double life.
Yes, he’s, like, literal sunshine, but you know what happens when you’re in the sun too long? You burn.
I look at my reflection and ask myself, Do I look queer?
Can people passing by me on the street pick up on the forbidden desire? Can they see it in my face? Can they hear it in the way I talk? Can they sense it in the way I move?
Why is it so easy for me to discard myself for someone else?
They say you need to love yourself before you can love someone else, but I feel like I need confirmation sometimes, that I’m someone to love.
I want a person to demonstrate that it’s possible to love me, no matter what. And those three words are so important: no matter what. I want someone to love me unconditionally. I want to be certain that nothing I could ever do would make them stop.
At our school there’s a tradition of upperclassmen trying to convince freshmen that there’s a pool on top of H-Building that you can only gain access to when you’re a senior.
Is this a Hackers reference? Lol
Then I click my pen and record what occurred as succinctly as I can next to the picture. MO.
Lol I remember becoming clingy with the boys I had crushes on and then I got to make out with them in MS/HS. Like I had a crush on them then I got to make out with them and then I created this narrative in my head that we were meant to be or something. I think it’s normal for queer kids to cling to that because our options are a lot more limited than straight people. Especially if it’s your first one. (I got over that fairly quickly)
I really wanted Manny to make out with him at the park. I’m picturing him as a Cholo and I went through a hard Cholo phase in HS.
Why am I acting like I’m depressed? I’m not depressed. Today was productive! Today was fun! I have no reason to feel sad! But do I feel sad? No, I guess not. The feeling isn’t sharp enough. I feel… used. Yeah, I feel used.
I’m tired of being envious of people. It’s a never-ending list. I’m envious of people with tanner skin, people with non-brown eyes, people who are musically talented, people who are athletically talented, people who are dumber than me and don’t have to think, people who are smarter than me and do everything with ease, people with normal brains who don’t lose the ability to function at the drop of a hat. Sometimes I’m envious of straight people and white people and rich people. I’m envious of guys who are taller than me, guys with bigger dicks, guys with better asses, guys who are hairless,
...more
And that’s when I realize why I hate the couple in front of me: They’re happy.
Instead of hitting me, he gently releases my hands and kneels in front of me, not letting go of my eyes for a second. Then he reaches for my zipper. Oh God, this is happening. I help him lower my pants and underwear until they’re around my ankles. Then he puts his mouth on me.
YESSSSSSS!! I’m loving manny as a Cholo bottom.
“So… How many guys have you been with?” He shrugs. “A couple here and there.” “How do you find them?” “App.” “But you’re seventeen. Don’t you have to be eighteen to use those?” He shrugs again. “I say I’m twenty. No one really questions it. They just want some head.” “Oh, so you’re a big fan of… of, um…”
I remember this was very common and Hines
I guess it’s true that us queers are starved for stories that mirror our lives. I can’t remember a time when I saw a queer person in a movie or TV show or book that I didn’t have to actively seek out myself.
My job requires some discretion in this matter. Also, you must have had a really good English teacher because your use of the possessive case before a gerund is impressive.
I fucking knew he was gonna run into the teacher!!! I bet it’s the fucking teacher!
I don’t feel that young. I know technically I am, but I feel like I know what I want.
Says literally every teenager
His face falls. “I don’t know, Quique. I guess because you’re my son and I… You go quiet.” “Huh?” “You get real quiet when you see a… stud.” “Dad.” Why did he have to say it like that? “Well, I don’t know what you kids call it. A ‘hot piece’ then.” “Dad!” We’re both almost laughing. “I noticed,” he says. “I noticed.”
But with my dad? He noticed. He saw me.
Manny may have been a momentary temptation, but with Saleem right here, I know the truth: I’d choose him over every other guy on the planet. They could all be in the room right now and I would pick Saleem over and over and over. Over Manny, Ziggy, Tyler, Mr. Chastman, Chris Evans, Dante Kruger, the guy from the travel (?) company commercials, Dorian Gray, Giovanni, Maurice, Oliver, every Everygay, every Better Man, and everyone in between.
I may not deserve Saleem, but I don’t deserve a lot of things I used to think I did. I don’t deserve to feel shame, to feel lonely, to be treated like a sex object, to be ignored, to be someone’s experiment. I definitely don’t deserve any of that. And I’m glad I know that now. It’s a feeling I hope doesn’t leave me for the rest of my life.
“You feel like home. When I’m with you, I’m home. Your chest is where my head belongs, and your arms are where the rest of me belongs.”
