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#orientation
The sun wakes me right in my face: impossible! Is the earth tilted?
0
Jun 14, 2025
Jun 14, 2025 at 4:31 AM UTC
[ The sun wakes me right ]
Can you make a friend— like a craft project? I know, I hear this parental voice, “just be yourself.” All of my classes this semester will be in one building, but I’m a control freak, I wanted to walk my schedule, go class to class, like I will on my first day. I have a locker too—this is so high school—but I wanted to find it, try the combination and plan what I’ll carry. I have questions too, like how’s the wi-fi, are there charging outlets, and where can I get coffee? Orientation is Tuesday—but who can wait until Tuesday? Classes start Wednesday.  I’d never sleep this weekend with so many questions. I’m already having dreams where I’m lost, late and embarrassed. So there I was, this morning, dressed for class with my green messenger bag—doing it—schedule in hand. I went into a small auditorium with cushioned, crimson, theater seating—where my first class will be—and there’s this other girl, dressed for class, schedule in hand. We were like twins, except she’s tall and black and I’m not. Right off she commanded me, handing me her phone, no preamble, no “How do you do,” to “Take my picture.” Of course, I obeyed, I’m not from outer space. I burst 50 quick frames, as she slightly varied her pose and she did likewise for me. Her name is Chella and she graduated from Yale last week too, with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs.’ I think I saw her on campus once or twice but our paths had never directly crossed. “But IS "Global Affairs" a science degree?” I asked skeptically. “Probably not,” she answered, “but some of us can live with ambiguity.” Her first direct, commanding phrase limns her personality perfectly. Yeah, we hit it right off. . . Songs for this: Cruel To Be Kind by Letters to Cleo Perfect Day by Povo Are You Trying to Be Funny? by Everything But the Girl
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May 24, 2025
May 24, 2025 at 10:24 PM UTC
friend
Can you make a friend— like a craft project? I know, I hear this parental voice, “just be yourself.” All of my classes this semester will be in one building, but I’m a control freak, I wanted to walk my schedule, go class to class, like I will on my first day. I have a locker too—this is so high school—but I wanted to find it, try the combination and plan what I’ll carry. I have questions too, like how’s the wi-fi, are there charging outlets, and where can I get coffee? Orientation is Tuesday—but who can wait until Tuesday? Classes start Wednesday.  I’d never sleep this weekend with so many questions. I’m already having dreams where I’m lost, late and embarrassed. So there I was, this morning, dressed for class with my green messenger bag—doing it—schedule in hand. I went into a small auditorium with cushioned, crimson, theater seating—where my first class will be—and there’s this other girl, dressed for class, schedule in hand. We were like twins, except she’s tall and black and I’m not. Right off she commanded me, handing me her phone, no preamble, no “How do you do,” to “Take my picture.” Of course, I obeyed, I’m not from outer space. I burst 50 quick frames, as she slightly varied her pose and she did likewise for me. Her name is Chella and she graduated from Yale last week too, with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs.’ I think I saw her on campus once or twice but our paths had never directly crossed. “But IS "Global Affairs" a science degree?” I asked skeptically. “Probably not,” she answered, “but some of us can live with ambiguity.” Her first direct, commanding phrase limns her personality perfectly. Yeah, we hit it right off. . . Songs for this: Cruel To Be Kind by Letters to Cleo Perfect Day by Povo Are You Trying to Be Funny? by Everything But the Girl
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18
But it's all just perspective! Isn't it? Someone stood on their head Has a different perception Of up & down. That's why there's things like gravity. To remind you, Even in an avalanche, Direction is not subjective - Orientation is. That's why there's different states of matter. To remind you, Even in a vacuum, Being is not subjective - Change is.
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May 5, 2025
May 5, 2025 at 4:21 PM UTC
It's How We Experience
In hot August I’ll make my departure, the trembling freshman imposter, to dance with unknown partners, in our quests to join the rosters of future scholars and doctors. Like Columbus I’ll journey not knowing exactly where I am going - and like our brave-foolish captain I’m hoping that the planned years of furious rowing, will deliver me to where (I think) I am going.
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Jul 13, 2021
Jul 13, 2021 at 7:08 AM UTC
hot august
You love to get the words out of me The words I wouldn’t use, they sound ***** You love the way I look at you I look into your eyes, and something sets free You love the way I listen to you I remember everything, Mr. Perfect doesn’t We both love crushing I crush on you And you crush me You call me your tomboy And get so possessive You say that you need me And then act submissive I adjust your dresses Sometimes your shoe laces When you keep me waiting I say you are allowed Don’t call me bro Babe, what is the ground We both love crushing I crush on you And you crush me You say you love me Every time you text I say, “I love you” You shoot hearts and rainbows back You want to know about my crushes If I ever loved a girl You wink and dance with me Say I’m the only one to make you twirl We both love crushing I crush on you And you crush me You love when I play gentleman Opening the door Letting you lead Walking you back Paying you heed You gush about my skills The way I move the swords The way I calculate The way I play with words Close discussions and debates And then we discuss How Mr. Perfect and you are hanging We both love crushing I crush on you And you crush me We are best friends And you want us to be, forever You want to hang out And go abroad together I would stand by you In all platonic capacities Even when Mr. Perfect marries you And claims you stupidly We both love crushing I crush on you And you crush me
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May 25, 2020
May 25, 2020 at 11:39 PM UTC
Crushing
history prefers legends to men it prefers nobility to brutality it prefers soaring speeches to quiet deeds it remembers the battle and forgets the blood whatever history remembers of me if it remembers anything at all. i shall always think of myself as a man well, just a MAN
0
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 1:40 PM UTC
Orientation
I'm 12 and I've been reading for 352 days straight and I have no interest in the people around me and why should I? I'm 14 in this one and my sheets have polka dots on them and my pillow is Avril Lavigne's face and I'm thinking about the girl at school with pink hair and slow penmanship. When I'm 16 you are 15 and holding my hand and I'm asking about french homework and trying not to focus on the movement of your thumb around mine which is not friendship. This time I'm 21 and your thick bones outline my thin and I like this small feeling.
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Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 2:08 PM UTC
'ARE U gAY?!!' quiz in cosmos i hide under my bed
And I know one day, I'll look into her eyes and say, "I love you" With body language, with touch, When the way she laughs becomes too much. Fingertips like felt rolling over Stitched feelings of brokenness, Diamond eyes catch the unraveling Of confusion into wholesomeness, I'm mended, I'm alive, and goddamit I'm swollen with #pride
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Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 4:32 AM UTC
I'm gay
I hate being maternal I hate being fearful I hate being traumatised I hate being quiet. I hate my attraction to men Because it makes me fearful That I’ll have kids And they’ll be neglected, empty and loveless. I hate being anxious I hate losing control I hate my upbringing. If it weren’t for the confusion And the belting and the yelling I wouldn’t be scared. I hate my attraction to men Because it made me fearful I was told that they’re rapists And they’d take advantage of me. I hate being weak I hate being gendered I hate looking and feeling small. I wish I was only attracted to women Because I’d be less fearful I wouldn’t worry about having kids. I hate feeling inadequate I hate feeling like a machine I hate feeling weak. I wish conversion therapy worked Because I hate being attracted To any man who might hurt me Or force me to have kids Or force me to be his slave Or refuse to accept who I am. I hate being viewed as a woman I hate when I try to express affection Women laugh at it, and men take it the wrong way. I hate being invalidated As a non-binary person Who doesn’t want to cause anyone pain. I hate ****** attraction towards men Because if it weren’t for self-control I’d dig my own grave And possibly that of unwarranted children. I hate being an unhappy child Because if I was raised lovingly I wouldn’t be anxious I wouldn’t be cursing my sexuality For including men Because I wouldn’t be scared Of having kids Cos I’d know I would raise them The happy way I was raised. If I was raised lovingly, I know I’d raise kids that way too And they wouldn’t suffer They wouldn’t blame me And the cycle of raising kids lovingly Would be passed on throughout generations. Tell me I’m exaggerating But my dad swore He wouldn’t raise me The way his father raised him. But I was terrorized By his beltings Just like the ones His father gave him. So I hope you understand Why I hate part of my sexuality And why for the good of others I don’t want kids. I want to stop this cycle Of fear, pain and suffering Even if it ends me. Even if no-one remembers me. It’s good for my conscience To say this right here and now I hate being scared And I’d hate for anyone To be afraid of me. 11th October 2017
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Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 6:11 AM UTC
I Hate My Attraction To Men
I hate being maternal I hate being fearful I hate being traumatised I hate being quiet. I hate my attraction to men Because it makes me fearful That I’ll have kids And they’ll be neglected, empty and loveless. I hate being anxious I hate losing control I hate my upbringing. If it weren’t for the confusion And the belting and the yelling I wouldn’t be scared. I hate my attraction to men Because it made me fearful I was told that they’re rapists And they’d take advantage of me. I hate being weak I hate being gendered I hate looking and feeling small. I wish I was only attracted to women Because I’d be less fearful I wouldn’t worry about having kids. I hate feeling inadequate I hate feeling like a machine I hate feeling weak. I wish conversion therapy worked Because I hate being attracted To any man who might hurt me Or force me to have kids Or force me to be his slave Or refuse to accept who I am. I hate being viewed as a woman I hate when I try to express affection Women laugh at it, and men take it the wrong way. I hate being invalidated As a non-binary person Who doesn’t want to cause anyone pain. I hate ****** attraction towards men Because if it weren’t for self-control I’d dig my own grave And possibly that of unwarranted children. I hate being an unhappy child Because if I was raised lovingly I wouldn’t be anxious I wouldn’t be cursing my sexuality For including men Because I wouldn’t be scared Of having kids Cos I’d know I would raise them The happy way I was raised. If I was raised lovingly, I know I’d raise kids that way too And they wouldn’t suffer They wouldn’t blame me And the cycle of raising kids lovingly Would be passed on throughout generations. Tell me I’m exaggerating But my dad swore He wouldn’t raise me The way his father raised him. But I was terrorized By his beltings Just like the ones His father gave him. So I hope you understand Why I hate part of my sexuality And why for the good of others I don’t want kids. I want to stop this cycle Of fear, pain and suffering Even if it ends me. Even if no-one remembers me. It’s good for my conscience To say this right here and now I hate being scared And I’d hate for anyone To be afraid of me. 11th October 2017
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80
There's an unseen connection You don't see but I feel My retina has your reflection It's a blind yet funny deal I see you when no one's there Even with people around Without touch I get the flair Chasing me as a hound I won't ask for anything But just to see your face A smile from you is something That serves more than an embrace I am an ace with desires With no urge to play rounds No butterflies, there's fire My true love, in you, I found.
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Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 12:32 AM UTC
Flair In The Air
Lesbian, bisexual, transgender, gay What are they all only labels anyway? Nowt of individuals do labels say, Truth be told all they do is get in the way! What is it with this need to put labels on? What we really need is to see the person! To judge others only by labels given Is stupidity, hard to be forgiven. So it is with gender, race, colour or creed; And all other labels we just do not need.
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Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 5:29 AM UTC
LBTG
Have you lately realized How much self absorbed Heterosexual amorphous Hominem ad narcissists *Love their oneorientation Love their self esteem pen Love their uncanny purse Love their rightful rituals* They abide to admiration *They wear polite persona They share unrelentlessly They know salt and peppa* Immortal talent n'crowd Inspiring dear friend days Interrupting pink panther Integrity by wild abandon.
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Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 10:17 AM UTC
Ad Homunculus
We're pushed away and stepped over When we're not being scoffed at and ridiculed We wonder where our strength comes from How we get up over and over and over again Trans or Gay, or sometimes both We all get treated the same Hurt by words that get thrown at us So often that only tears remain But strong we are, those that are left Too many gone, from pain and distrust We take a breath, wipe off the spit And keep fighting to live another day The world cries for unity, for rights and equality But somehow we always seem to lose The rights and equality seemed destined for us Given to those the majority choose to see We sink in our hearts, hold on to each others hands Dreary of the battle, left empty from the fight Trans and Gay, stand arm in arm Ready for tomorrow, hoping for an end to the fight. by Lj Mark, 2015
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Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 9:10 PM UTC
Up for the fight