lgbtq
The letters LGBTQ are just another way of saying that Love is Love.
All I Want
Carla remembers the day her life turned upside down, a day etched in her memory bank, a day that occasionally flashed behind her eyelids when closing her eyes at night in discomfort, cradled against the pavement and stone wall of a dilapidated building that stood longer than she’d been alive. Clutching a sheer sheet to gather warmth from the elements, the sky darkened as night fell, pinpricks of light decorating and designing patterns across the sky. The city began to bustle with life, conversations with intermittent laughter of men and women blending together, creating a vibrant hum that funnily enough eased Carla’s anxiety. It was when the silence came that her anxiety would skyrocket. Silence meant she was alone. Alone in a world that had thrown her out. Thrown her out to be forgotten. To become nothing. To be swallowed by the darkness and disappear.
Over the Moon
Alex dropped down onto all fours and circled the group of frat boys standing outside the bar barking at the top of her lungs. She lifted her right leg and symbolically urinated on the chatty one’s ankle. All hyped up she finished off with a quick hop to her feet ripping down her black leggings to bare her derriere. She then readjusted her pants and her girlfriend Siobhan grabbed her hand to steady her balance. A small group of curious onlookers recording the incident with their cell phones cheering as the pair scurried away from the scene. The loving couple were tired of the continuous harassment by this group of immature college boys and the disparaging comment “You are too beautiful to be lesbians” were words Alex could no longer ignore.
Marilyn GloverPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Lasting Legacy of Marsha P. Johnson
TO PREFACE: This paper was written for my freshman English class with the assignment being to write about someone or something deserving the status of "American Icon." Below you will find my submission about LGBT+ activist Marsha P. Johnson, who I believe has done more than enough to deserve to be labeled an American Icon.
Jack NewkirkPublished 3 years ago in HumansThe Scavenger
It was hardly past mid-day when I noticed how dark it was growing. I pushed my shopping cart up what felt like the hundredth hill today. The winds had changed, I could smell the storm moving in. I had an hour or less to find shelter before all hell breaks loose. It's funny how much one's senses heighten when the world ends, so much less to distract us from the real world. I cursed the oncoming storm for ruining the peace and quiet of my walk. I always thought it was kind of funny, peace and quiet would've been the last things that I would of expected about the end of the world before the world ended. The world didn't end like in the movies though. No super volcano, no nukes, no meteor or asteroid dished out our devastation. It was a virus that did us in, not a zombie virus or super rabies, just a virus with a ninety percent mortality rate that spread faster than the California wild fires. Those of us that survived formed groups, groups became settlements, and most settlements worked together. Nothing at all like in the movies.
Jarred S BakerPublished 3 years ago in HumansJamie's Journal
Tom looked over at the box, still sitting there on the kitchen counter where the lawyer had left it. He had been avoiding it, but reason prevailed over grief and Tom walked over and picked the package up. He removed the manila envelope in a single motion. Two items fell from out on to the counter: a small, black notebook and a folded piece of paper. Tom teared up for a moment when he saw the handwriting on the paper. His name was written on the outside in Jamie's handwriting. Inside was a note:
Jim MalonePublished 3 years ago in HumansGay In Public
Dear Dakarai, To hold your hand, to touch you, means everything to me. Each day I do my best: I study, I work, I try to make people happier, and you're there for those days. And when things get bad? When I get turned down by a fellowship, or I have some difficult students, or I get booked for 12 hours of online lectures and meetings, I can still count on your touch, your voice, to remind me that things will be okay. After all, time with you is defined by goodness, so how can I be anything but okay when I'm with you?
Noah RodriguezPublished 3 years ago in HumansA Sudden Snow
“What,” he asks and lifts his eyes from his acoustic guitar, realizing I had been staring at him for the last five minutes while he strummed a tune on his guitar.
Mikai BryantPublished 3 years ago in HumansMy journey to coming out.
It was the summer of 2016. I knew there was something very wrong with my life. I was angry. I was angry at the world. It didn't matter what people did around me I was just mad. Everything annoyed me. I was not a fun person to be around at times. But then there were moments of joy and happiness. I needed more of those moments. I needed my life to be about that. I need to make a change or I was likely headed towards taking my own life. I know, that's hard to hear but it's true.
A Trans Girl on FirePublished 3 years ago in Humans- Top Story - February 2021
He Was Everything
Ben wanted so badly to kiss his best friend. His best friend since elementary school. The guy who stopped him from going off the rails with other kids, and helped him consistently with his hot headed self righteousness... who got him to see things in a grounded, level and down to earth kind of way.
Melissa IngoldsbyPublished 3 years ago in Humans Toast and Newspapers
They’re tracing their fingers down my back. I feel their soft hands, pressing with love, and hear the whispered counting of my vertebrae. Warm lips press against the nape of my neck. A sigh, and a shuffle, the sounds shift to the scratches of a pencil, tracing thought. The book is wriggled back under their side of the mattress, and the click of the light brings quiet darkness. Their breathing is even, they tap their fingers on their belly.
PART IV Please Don't Call Me Sir
PART IV: Magazines in the 70's and early 80's were very powerful media, much like YouTube, Pintrest, and the similar, are today. Our mothers used magazines for dinner recipes, beauty and romance secrets; the kids used them to join teen fan clubs, find posters for their rooms and to seek out what was popular in fashion. My room was full of magazine pages, both male and female teen idols. It was within these pages that kids would develop crushes. They would get some of their first ideas about what they wanted to look like, what they wanted to wear and who and what they wanted to be someday.
Book Worms
Used bookstores were a rare sight these days. Hell, they were almost extinct. The fact that Randall even found this one was a matter of dumb luck. His ability to get lost while trying to follow his phone's GPS might be considered skillful by some. But today, he had turned down an alley instead of a street, a hazard of an over-eager GPS voice telling him to turn now, when really it meant turn in a second. Randall, ever the obedient instruction follower, turned when told. Thus, landing him in the alley.