"Rightwing Christians have us on the defensive, scrambling to prove how nice and normal, how patriotic and churchgoing, we are. But we'll never convince our enemies we're just like them -- and not because many of us aren't. That's true, but irrelevant. Homophobes don't hate us because we're different; they call us different because they hate us. When we romanticized promiscuity, they condemned us for not forming long-term, monogamous relationships; when we romanticize long-term monogamous relationships, they condemn us for "mocking" and "destroying" marriage. We're their scapegoats. They need to call us guilty to feel innocent. They need to call us dirty to feel clean."

This and more from ACT UP! new york, some awesome and powerful essays on gay rights and queer solidarity in America. Read it and cheer.

http://www.actupny.org/documents/PINKTANK/index.html

I forget sometimes that this is not okay.
I forget that we are looked upon with fear.
In this safe space, we are allowed to be gay.

On campus there are signs that boldly say,
“Gays and lesbians are accepted here!”
I forget sometimes that this is not okay,

That deviance is not the American way.
I’m spoiled by this open atmosphere,
This safe space where we’re allowed to be gay.

But I’m reminded when I re-enter the fray,
And I drop your hand when strangers start to leer,
Suddenly reminded that it is not okay.

It happened at the grocery store today.
I wished to kiss your cheek and drew too near,
You quickly glanced around and pulled away.

Removed from this reality everyday,
It’s easy to be a carefree loving queer.
This unusually safe space lets us be gay
To the point where I forget it’s not okay.

TELL ME A STORY!

i am looking for interesting stories about your life to include in my upcoming collaboration, a book about interconnecting lives and how each life unfolds.

email:
yourlifestory@hotmail.com

Flat. All the world flat as glass when I chance to raise my eyes. Our eyes meet and she looks so miserable, her eyes dark holes of sadness. It hollers and scrapes at my insides, at the base of my throat. But I can't speak, I've shut down all pathways of communication between us. My solution is to pretend she doesn't exist, stare straight ahead as though I am paralyzed. It is no disguise.

She looks at me, but what should I do? It only sends a volt of electric blue to my heart. Nothing. I am a Frankenstein monster who does not respond to your Gothic electricity.

(I miss the way she looked at me
Back when the world was new.)

I won't look her in the eye, I don't want to see all the pain I've caused. I am a coward and must hide like a coward--it is what we cowards do. The tension shakes me apart and I can feel my face burning... it undoes me. I wish I were anywhere, wish I were unaware. Wish I were unconscious at the bottom of the ocean somehwere. Drifting along in a miserable current, crawling where I belong with the blind creatures of the deep. Despicable...

We discussed this once, the inevitability of our break-up, and she said, "Emily, let's face it. You'll move on faster than me." I protested, denied it, but she stopped me. "You've never had any shortage of people vying for your attention, your affections."
But I still hate the endings of things. All endings.
I prefer to be the victim, it is a role I relish. I have perfected my Marilyn tears, my Fay Wray scream. I cannot be the perpetrator; what made me think I could wield that axe? Victims are generally given more healing time, more sympathy. I will have to make my own. But no matter, I will heal nonetheless.

I hurt everyone! I break every heart I touch! Misery sprouts like pale mushrooms in my destructive wake.

My skin crawls, I hate myself, and by extension I hate everyone else. All conversation, all attempts, sicken me, make me retch. I am wretched. They call me Ishtar, Ishtar. I get drunk. I send the world away and feast on the numbing blackness.

I bite my lips in my sleep, wake up to the taste of blood. I offer one-word explanations for the way things ended up.

I am as solitary as a scar...

Kathleen Hanna (from riot-grrl bands Bikini Kill and Le Tigre)has a solo project I recently learned about called Julie Ruin and it rocks. here are the lyrics to 'i wanna know what love is' (which, incidentally, is featured in the awesome lesbian film 'better than chocolate')
She is so grrl power.

Intro: Do you remember when we were young and
impressionable and taught to believe everything
the great-white father told us?

How many girls stay awake all night
Too scared to sleep and too scared to fight back
I know you know what I'm talking about
Another woman killed and hardly a pout about it
Green River Killer my fucking ass
The cops have got to be deaf, dumb, and spastic
To not catch the killer of a hundred women
I guess it'd be different if they thought we were human
I wanna know what love is
What the fuck if we all got guns
To off the fucking pigs and all the other motherfuckers
Raping the children they paint like dolls
Jon Benet didn't scream cuz she never fucking was
Come on now the police aren't gonna save you

They're part of the problem that society gave you
Locking up black men for whistling in the wind
You see a mirage when you call a cop your friend
I wanna know what love is
The killers and the cops give us special advice
Like cross your legs and act fucking nice
While they kill us off old and young
For breathing, relieving and having fun
They'll keep you scared so you have to have a boyfriend
And take your kids away if youre a la-la-lesbian
Arrest you for whoring then rape you in the car
Its time we point the finger at who the real criminals are
I wanna know what love is and I want you to show me
So I'll stay awake almost every night
A pen in my hand and in the other a knife
Cuz I'd rather be scared and fight back
Than be some dick's maid, babe or wife...

Check out her music, it is just beyond describable.

emily

i'm back from wherever i was all this time.

it's hard to be sure.

i recognize a few people from when i was an oasis regular. i have missed this website and now that i have lost my girlfriend and most of my gay friends, i need this place again. i need it really bad and hopefully i will be accepted here again, for acceptance on a computer screen is at least some consolation. i'm terribly lonely and desperate for friends, i'm not afraid to admit that. so c'mon, talk to me. say hi. i don't bite...
well, not hard.

your words will be pure manna for a girl who has lost everything but her strength.

anyway, it's me again, emily. a big hello. maybe i will post some poetry.

note to bulldyke: i enjoyed reading your list of gayest things... pretty funny.

love to all from emily.

This is part of my story and I hope it helps anyone who is going through a rough time, especially if it is similar to my experiences. You will need more strength than you know.

As I walk the oak-lined pathways of Southwestern University's beautiful campus, I know that next year, I could very well be one of the fortunate students here, carrying books and cups of coffee from building to gorgeous stone building. As I attend sessions in each of the main academic departments- especially literature, social sciences, and modern languages- I am thrilled to the core, practically salivating at the opportunity to access the vast store of knowledge available from the professors. I listen raptly as I attend a seminar on Latin American studies, in which I hope to major with a possible minor in Feminist Studies. My dream is to serve as a Spanish-English translator, especially at women’s clinics in poverty-stricken areas of Latin America, and with over fifty percent of Southwestern students traveling abroad as undergraduates, this dream is approaching reality for me.
My parents walk beside me on Accepted Senior Day, marveling outwardly as I do inwardly while we tour the campus, saying "What amazing facilities!" and "This is the perfect place for you." They are as excited as I am to hear the professors discuss classes like "Contemporary Latin American Literature" and "American History: A Feminist Perspective." From an outsider’s perspective, it would seem unlikely that these enthusiastic parents have spent weeks debating whether or not they should finance an education for their lesbian daughter.
Few words have been more difficult to speak than, “Mom, I think I might be gay.

It's a depressing thought that only devoted veterans of Oasis will even recognize the name "stars and nothing." It's me, Emily, your old friend!

I feel like an outsider here now. Creepy, isn't it? Like visiting your old hometown to see it overrun with strange faces. Not that I don't welcome new people- in fact, Niks and ACCGirl and I used to be sort of an Oasis welcome wagon. Whenever a new kid came in, we'd comment on their first post and say how glad we were, etc. I used to post like everyday... check out some of my old journal entries. I used to be cool, I swear.

Well, how are the new people finding Oasis? A good place to run to? It's so therapeutic, isn't it? Sharing your experiences with other scared and confused and angry people. Or accepting and caring and welcoming people. I hope you all find it as helpful as I did when I first came here. The reason I stopped coming here and posting, I guess, is that I really didn't need it so much anymore. I'm more comfortable with myself now, and it's easier to talk about it with friends in person than on the computer. Oasis is a really important transition phase, between admitting your sexuality to yourself and coming out completely.

Well, if anyone doesn't mind, I'd be interested to learn the ropes of Oasis again now that school's out; sort of get a feel for who the main characters are, the good writers, the frequent flyers, so to speak. If some nwe kid's stepped in and filled my shoes as the resident princess of Oasis, I'd be interested in talking to you. Feel free to email me, IM me, or leave comments. I bet you guys are all cool and I'll be making the rounds, reading your journals and stuff. It feels good to be back! Hi Adrian!

In other news, down with Bush. Gina Young rocks.

love Emily

It occurs to me
That I can't go back

I stand here
Blade poised
Thoughts bloom
Like bright flowers of blood

I should talk
To Chelsea
Or Heather, or Minkus
I should talk
To Nikki
Or Matthew, or Emrys
To my mom, to my counselor,
to my favorite teacher.
So many people know me.

(Y tu, Walt Whitman,
me conoces bien. Rezo a ti como rezaba a Dios--
espero
que me entiendas
Cuando te hablo sin cortarme.
Y en caso que no, todavia
Rezo a Dios.)

(And you, Walt Whitman,
you know me well. I pray to you like I used to pray to God
I hope
you understand me
When I talk to you without cutting myself.
And in case you don't, I still
Pray to God.)

I can't go back
To how I used to deal
With the down side of up

Unable to cut
I spill words not blood
God, is this better
Or what, am I weak?

I don't know
This little blue placebo
My dream suppressant
Does it keep me sedated

Like a frothy mocha
cappucino, creamy hazelnut
amaretto biscotti chocolate latte...
I sit here waiting
for someone who'll want me,
steaming, slowly losing
my warmth...

but I don't cut.
Maybe this is important.
Amy would know, but I can't pray to her anymore.

Come on, Oasis, where are we on this?

Do you want to lose your rights?
Do you want to let the government make us second-class citizens?
With every step, the control will get stronger, so let's stop them now while we still can.

Write to your Congresspersons. If you're not sure of how to do that,
WE WILL HELP YOU HERE!!!
Email me at anytime, HLA83@aol.com, and I'll respond ASAP.
I want our community to rally behind this cause.

Let's act-
let's write petitions, letters to representatives, a simple declaration of your stance.

I understand that secrecy is still an issue for many of you- as it is for myself, as I am still not out at school, or to the majority of my family- but there are ways to get involved and support the cause without telling the world your sexuality. If you want more info, talk to me about this!

Recognize that the time for action is now.
Do you realize how much impact our voice could have if we just unify?
If you're not working for change, you're working against it.
Work for change and make this victory happen.

http://www.hrc.org/millionformarriage/index.shtml

Hey everyone-- I have something very important that I'd really like to set in motion, and I need as much as help as I can get.

I've written a petition against the constitutional amendment to BAN GAY MARRIAGE now being pushed by conservatives. I want to get this out into the public-- across the country, across the world-- and Oasis was an obvious arena to start an underground movement among gay youth.
I want to be able to get married someday, and if we don't act now, that may not be a choice for gays and lesbians. I don't want to see that happen, and I need your help in fighting against those who do.
Below is the first draft of the petition I've written. I'm accepting any suggestions-- revisions, criticism, support, ideas for getting the word out. Email is HLA83@aol.com
Please help. This means a lot to me, and I hope it means as much to you.
-------------------------------------

SIGN AND CIRCULATE—CHANGE OUR FUTURE

The Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) was signed by President Clinton in 1996. This act prevents federal recognition of same-sex marriage, and allows states to ignore same-sex marriage licenses from out of state. It also defines marriage as a legal union “between one man and one woman.

:what
:could i
:possibly
:have to say?
nothingnothing painfully nothingnothing

miss you honey, miss you Muse
miss you baby(poetry)baby

i treated you good
oh didn't i Muse?
i never gave you
too much to do

why other poets
overload their Muses
we'd worked out a nice mutual respect, i thought.

love, don't be silly
lady, come down
i swear by this poem
come back from the stars

"...when suddenly, out of the darkness, came..."

...came what?
-the prodigal Muse?

-a sentence?

-a poem?

-the ending to this spectacularly dull story?

-the right word to unlock
the wintry chamber inside and free
my poor frozen Muse
from february's dark hell?

words to tempt the lovely,
lay them on an altar piled with
rotting flowers, lady my lovely

i try to tempt the Muse with
lovely things
tokens of fidelity to
her inspiration

don't you like
strawberries my girl;
what about rose petals? tea leaves? walt whitman?
don't you want to come into
spring with me with words and blossoms

what's wrong, Muse?
have i bruised
your tender simile,
sprained your metaphor,
or offended some syntax?
did i wrong you in
that vivid description
of the
way
she
moves
the morning after
in my mind?

--honestly: women! can't live with them, can't be a lesbian without them. i trusted my Muse, respected her in all my work, then she goes and throws in the towel. i've always considered the position of Muse a relatively cushy job- good hours, good pay, minimum hazard and great benefits. but this Muse of mine, oh, she won't have it. i'd swear she was on strike if i thought she'd join a union. she's far too proud- with a stamp of her shapely, golden-sandaled foot, and a toss of her gossamer hair, she spreads her wings and is off to the islands. come back, lady! can't i tempt you with anything i own?--

oh Muse, jealous Muse,
who like the moon grows full and thin;
fickle Muse, to you i owe my allegiance-
come back.

"Unjust laws exist: shall we be content to obey them, or shall we endeavor to amend them, and obey them until we have succeeded, or shall we transgress them at once?"- Henry David Thoreau, Civil Disobedience

I think it's great that so many of you want to work for change, and I really do think we can change the unjust laws with which we are faced. I also think it's a great idea to write to our representation in Congress.

But don't forget--we are representing the youth of the gay community.

If you're writing to your state representatives, or anyone else, to speak out for gay rights, please please PLEASE try to give them a good impression by showing them that we can be just as respectable and articulate as straight youth. That means not using any profanity (duh) or controversial/politically incorrect terms. Also, just because you're writing an email, that doesn't mean you can abandon all syntax and standard protocol of written English. No intentional misspellings, slang, abbrevations like "u r" or cute little smileys. Professionalism is key in a political setting. You have to speak their language.

State your position clearly, and use respectful, formal language. If possible, get an English teacher or other educated adult to review/proofread your letter.
If you don't have any adults that you're out to, or don't feel comfortable doing that, you could probably post a draft of your letter on Oasis and get feedback from people here.

WE HAVE TO CHANGE THE FUTURE FOR OURSELVES.

Think of how powerful it would be if every repreentative in Congress- Senate and House- received letters from gay youth, expressing our side of the story. Wouldn't that be amazing? Let's show the adults that we care about our rights and fill the Capitol with our voices.

“I’m sorry for all that it isn’t,