this is very beautiful and i like it but it makes me sad that we are their heaven
Wow that was really beautiful
Month: December 2013
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the craze.
i wrap myself up in the things you don’t say and let them caress me like a mother who lies to her child to save its heart from breaking.
words you haven’t even spoken find their way into my head, little whispers in the wind winding through my ear, filling me up like the helium in a million…
was going through my archives (as i do when i want to stroll down memory lane) and found this from june 2012. i want to write like this again. school is so stifling.
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making wishes.
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so cute and yummy ;DD
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date night.
chris took me out on a date on thursday night and it was so cute.
he picked me up at my apartment and brought me the light bulbs i so desperately needed, which was very sweet and thoughtful.
i think there’s something really nice about a guy picking you up at your door – none of that texting “i’m out front” or agreeing to meet at the place business. i like hearing the knock, and taking the journey together.
we cabbed to les deux singes de montarvie. it was a small, ambient and very chic french restaurant. there were a few other guests when we arrived, and the waiter recommended sitting further away from the door to avoid the cold.
we ordered a round of caesars to start and then we were presented with the dinner menu.
the dinner was beautiful. everything was so delicious. for our appetizers he had the “Salmon mi-cuit, served with a sweet potato purée, ginger brown butter, jalapeno verde, and grilled bok choys” and i had the “Classic Bison tartare, rolled in garlic bread crumbs, served over an avocado salad.” For the entrees, he had the “Korean BBQ duck duo, thigh confit and grilled breast, served with daikon and kimchi vinaigrette” and i had the “Tenderloin of milk-fed veal, accompanied by a sauté of shallots and mushrooms, purée of Jerusalem artichoke, and a “Bleu de Causses” béchamel” (yeah, i’m copying all of this from their website). and for dessert, we split the recommended chocolate creme brulee, which was literally heaven. chris also got us a bottle of wine to share over dinner, and i thought that was a nice touch.
the staff were incredibly accomodating and friendly, and they didn’t even seem bothered by how late chris and i stayed. by the time we left, we were the only guests in the restaurant, but we weren’t about to leave before finishing our wine.
a couple of the staff members even remembered chris from the last time he ate there. a woman introduced herself and our waiter and she told us that if we ever called in the future, one of them would be on the phone.
at one point, chris said it was even better than the last time he was there, and that it might be his new favourite restaurant in montreal.
we said our goodbyes and left the restaurant to head to barmacy.
it was snowing outside and it was magic and chris kissed me in the middle of the street and it was sweet and picture perfect.
we got to barmacy and had a billion rounds of amaretto sours over good and easy conversation. like the restaurant, it was dimly lit and ambient, and the mood suit our needs well. when it was time for us to leave, our server brought over some complementary shots of amaretto sours and joined us in taking them.
and then we went back to his place and cuddled until we fell asleep.
for our first legitimate date, i was more than satisfied. chris really knows how to take a guy out. it was cute and tasty and romantic and there was laughter and hand holding and a perfect kiss – i don’t go on very many real dates, so this was a nice treat in the middle of all the finals stress.
i was very happy.
the date was a resounding success.
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three supermodels and beyonce in one video. all hail.
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this album release was MAAAAJOOOOOOOR.
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i like
leaning my head on people’s backs.
i remember a few years ago iggy pop played a free concert live at dundas square, and i managed to find my way to the second row from the front.
i remember it was so crowded, and the people were so tightly packed, that the white shoes i came in turned to dark grey.
at some point, i got so tired from all the dancing and the moshing that i rested my head against the back of the person in front of me, and that was kind of how it was for the rest of the concert.
when the show ended, he turned around and i said ‘thank you,’ and he smiled and said ‘no problem.’
and then i went to join my friends, who i’d lost in the crowd.
i’m always losing people.
turns out i accidentally left them behind on my way to the front and they got tired and decided to wait for me at amc.
but i like leaning my head on people’s backs.
i like the warm sense of comfort in that simple gesture of support.
i like knowing that when i’m tired – when i just need a break – there is someone there.
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i’ve been trying to start this paper for literally two days and all i can think about is how i’m going to be eating bacon tomorrow.
i’m going to go to sleep now so i can wake up and eat bacon.
and then write a paper.
and then maybe write another paper.
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i think i might’ve underestimated the power of vodka.
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last night luke and i went to the karaoke night jasper’s hosting at royal phoenix every tuesday night (https://www.facebook.com/mouthoffMTL).
even though right at the start of finals may not have been the ideal time to launch an event, it was still a lot of fun!
i saw a few friends i haven’t seen in a while and even made some new ones.
i also did a solo performance of halo, and luke and i did love the way you lie as a duet (i was obviously princess riri).
i’ll probably go back next tuesday.
i went to sleep over at chris’ apartment and spent the morning/afternoon there by myself after he left to go study at the library.
i got to watch the steve harvey show, which made me realize how much i miss pointless daytime television.
it reminded me of carefree times gone by.
it was so cozy.
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What I Learned From Gay Sex: Misogyny And Homophobia | HuffPost Gay Voices
By Simon Moritz
Graduate student, writer and queer activist living in Paris
April 17, 2013
I am not quiet during sex. I communicate my desires and ask the same of my partners. I believe that this not only creates a safe sexual environment but makes for the most pleasurable experience for everyone. If I’m making sounds that aren’t words, that more or less means I’m having a good time. People generally respond well to this type of nonverbal feedback; I’ve only had one person object to my use of nonverbal expression, and that was Peter.
Peter is a gay man I slept with once. I met him in a gay bar when I was living in New York, and I thought he was perfect. He worked with homeless queer youth. He had a dog. He was a little taller than average, and stocky, wearing jeans, a T-shirt and Puma high tops. He was bearded. He said things like “you’re so unlike everyone your age” (he was 11 years older than I) and “I never go home with anyone the night I meet them.” When he did come home with me and we were naked in my bed, he kissed my neck, and I moaned, high-pitched and breathy. He stopped, looked me in the eye and said, “Don’t do that. It’s faggy.”
Now, this was several years ago, and I hadn’t yet learned that people like Peter are to be either ignored, laughed at or taught, so I became a caricature of “not faggy”: I grunted (no more moaning), I pretended that I wasn’t hurt by what he said (feelings are for girls, as I recalled learning during childhood), and I tried to act as masculine as possible, because that is the opposite of faggy, the opposite of the femme gay man who gestures, speaks quickly in a high-pitched voice and says “darling.” I became that silly thing because I wanted Peter to love me.
He stood me up on our next date, and I never heard from him again.
Eventually surpassing the typical “what did I do wrong?” stage of self-hatred, I asked myself, “What does it mean that Peter called me faggy for expressing pleasure?” And so I learned that people like Peter are part of a larger problem: pervasive misogyny.
Typically we say that “fag,” “sissy,” “nancy,” “nelly” and “fairy” are homophobic words, and although they certainly are used to perpetuate homophobia, they are not homophobic in and of themselves; the usage of any of these words as slurs usually targets people with male-sexed bodies who do not act sufficiently masculine. They prize masculinity by demonizing femininity. This is probably rooted in some outdated, essentialist reading of gender where women are biologically the weaker, pathetic sex, but we know today that in addition to being totally offensive, gender essentialism is more or less bullshit, because women can vote and work and beat men into submission, and men can cook and clean and stay at home with the kids. But although it was relatively easy to deconstruct the misogyny in Peter’s abuse, getting to the root of why a man, while lying naked with another man and kissing him, would call that man’s expression of pleasure too gay is a more complicated subject. I would suggest that Peter calling me faggy is part of a larger queer cultural heritage.
Queer people live in a constant narrative of struggle; today we struggle for legally recognized marriage, and in 2003 we struggled for the right to have consensual sex, but 60 years ago queer role models fought for the right to exist in public or private. To gain those rights, they used an effective strategy called assimilation, which dictated that queer people look and act as much as possible like straight people. The Mattachine Society and the Daughters of Bilitis both did it intentionally in the ’50s, and it was probably the most aggressive option to say “we are normal, just like you” at a time when police were encouraged to raid gay bars, arrest patrons and publish their names and faces in the newspaper the following day. However, “just like you” literally bleached queer people of color from the movement and rendered trans people invisible, because “just like you” referred to white men in power and their wives who had the sway to validate any queer identity legally. Assimilation was successful in that discrimination against LGBT people is now illegal in many forms, but it also created an “acceptable gay man,” and he was white and masculine and certainly did not say “darling.” It also created and validated a favorite excuse for anti-gay bigotry, “I’m fine with gay people as long as they don’t flaunt it,” because suddenly there were gay people who were not “normal.” “Normal” gay men today ape that heterosexual excuse for bigotry by blaming “abnormal” gays for the the maltreatment of gays as a whole.
Peter is a “normal” gay man, so when my behavior started to drift outside “normal,” he reprimanded me much in the same way that police officers, gym teachers or parents might have done in the ’50s (and today, to be fair). And although the ’50s were over 60 years ago, that attitude remains pervasive: Look at any on gay dating website or smartphone app and you’ll see our twisted heritage as “preferences” based on a hierarchy of who can pass as a successful straight man: “Looking for masc, musc, no femmes, white only.” Though the irony that none of us is straight does not escape me, I’d like to focus more on how regressive this is; we are literally contributing to our own oppression by upholding this bizarre heritage of misogyny created in the ’50s.
So let’s make life easier on all queer people and stop mimicking the worst parts of heterosexism. Who knows? We could even begin to support each other. How revolutionary.
A longer version of this blog post appeared in French in Congrats! Magazine.
Follow Simon Moritz on Twitter: www.twitter.com/simonmprojects
just gonna leave this here as food for thought.
What I Learned From Gay Sex: Misogyny And Homophobia | HuffPost Gay Voices
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sunday night
I would cry on the way to the airport and my lips would tremble the way they do when I am at home and it is winter and freezing cold. The woman who took my passport when I flew home the first time was very nice and looked in my eyes even though I was wearing sunglasses and wished me a very nice…
there are so many things in this that i can relate to.
there’s something so comforting in reading what you feel written out by someone else.
it makes you feel so much less lonely.
