Our conversation had lulled soon after she had told me about last September.
Your vision is rippled with pleasure, as she glides, oblivious,
I die a little as you smile, secretly, hoping people don't see
In your arms your need throb's delusional
She is dearer to you than the air you breathe
Sometimes, I just want to be her.
"Because you can never really know a person unless you meet them face to face." Summer knew it was a sensitive topic.
I have always wondered how it is that we go from not knowing anything at all to understanding that boys and girls are different.
She was worried about Cute. She hoped he wasn't into bad company or doing drugs.
Very recently, I was checking my PR account to see if there was any useful message or one worth replying.
I could not stop staring, guzzling my ‘actual’ drink to try and calm the knot that was coiled in my stomach.
It was almost summer when I first saw her. After a long and one of the coldest winters I had experienced, days were getting warmer again and I couldn’t have been more relieved.
I feel a little lost. I do not understand how I ended up where I am today. Well, that’s not the entire truth. I know, factually at least, how I ended up here.
Women stare at other women, so much that even men cannot compete
It seems like yesterday, when I was a teen yearning for that sparkling love, "filmy" love.
I collect sweethearts. Some of them become family. Some of them drift away with time. Most people who know me call me a cynic.
That night, I had done the unthinkable. That night, everything was possible.
The one they always bring to my attention is how men show affection in public. To someone unfamiliar, it can be quite surprising.
I think the problem is that we, as a society, understand gender itself in a very trans phobic way.
On different forums, time and again we have posts stereotyping bisexuals. Not much has changed.
Cute wondered if he'd be required to show his Hong Kong Identity card. Although he was nineteen, he looked fifteen or sixteen years old.
I still remember being nonplussed by their simple and eloquent response. “But we are happy.”
I keep on saying this and I'll say it again, I wasn't like other boys in my family.
I was a boy soprano in the church choir and a bit on the plumper side of life and had a shrill voice.