Let me tell you a story.
But this story is not as typical as you think.
It is not a typical love story that your mom used to tell you.
Where a prince should kiss the princess to break the spell;
Or a boy who tirelessly wishes and throws coins into the wishing well.
Nor a heroic journey of a man with mythical-creature opponents
That your dad used to narrate
Together with his matching sound effects and actions.
Phew phew, boom boom blog blog. phew.
This story is a mix of sweeter than fairy tales,
and bitter than death of a protagonist.
Of comfort and defeat.
Mixed with sweet and bitter taste.
Will beat everything with holding each hands in faith.
"We were just two persons met in one purpose
Who belong to the same notion and belief
That no two persons with same sex should be holding each other's hands
Nor kissing each other's lips in public,
Or two persons exchanging "I love you's".
I met him without expectations;
When things kept running on my mind.
He is the one, and always be the one that I will never get tired of.
He has this impact on me that I would always love to feel.
His soft-enlivening voice that soothes my inner self down to my soul
Voice that sounds way better than my favorite songs that I used to play
One word he says is enough. He is enough.
Everything he does is just so perfect,
Like what I've always been asking to God,
"What did I do to deserve this human being?"
Because he is. He is.
He is astonishingly
He is ravishingly,
He is sexually perfect.
All of these unfamiliar words couldn't even describe how perfect he is to me.
His smell, his touch that could make the withered flowers grew back to its beautiful form.
That could restore shattered pieces of me
which were destroyed by catastrophes and its aftermaths.
His lips? Fuck. His lips! His lips that always drive me crazy.
Every time his lips touch mine,
I could feel how the sun feels the satisfaction whenever he kisses the bay in pre-night.
That you used to love to watch from afar.
His kisses tracing my lines thru his lips.
The lines in his palms, I could feel it. How he caressed my cheeks, down to my abdomen.
Up from above, he brought me to the places where I'd wanted to be.
It was a crazy journey. I could still feel his warm breath. His whisper in my ears. And his presence still lingers.
That was the happy part of the story.
Life sometimes comes with sorrows.
So does my story.
So does my story.
My story.
But it was not that easy.
It didn't start in an easy way.
It all started as a secret.
Sssssh!
A secret wherein hope remained unseen in the light,
and still hides in our shadows
That until now is kept.
Kept not because we've wanted it.
But kept because of the fear.
Fear of maybe we would not get the love
But instead we would just get hates.
That this world always got.
Prejudices. Negative praises.
that would come from people's mouths with no brakes.
What should we do?
Are we really dirty?
What should we do?
Are we unworthy?
What should we do?
Don't we really deserve the love?
What should we do?
I want to wash away the dirt from their minds.
Our uncleaned image that they've classified to us.
They're being brainwashed by the set norms that they believe it's true.
People still believe that we are against.
We are illegal. We are restrictions.
We are just pieces of shit that need to be obliterated.
And do not belong in this fucking society.
It hurts. Yes, it hurts. Knowing the fact that things are not just as easy we think they are.
They are not. It will not.
That you would have to cut every part of you just to fit-in in this society.
Just to be accepted.
To fit in the roles that you have to do.
Mommy, daddy, I'm different. I'm such an embarrassment to our family.
Would you punch me? Would you hurt me? Would you curse me?
Would you humiliate me in front of many people?
Mom, Dad; the truth is I'm not different.
I'm still your boy. I'm still that kid you used to carry.
Whom you used to love his check-shaped bird drawings.
I'm still the boy whom you've always wanted to kiss my booboo.
Whom you've always loved to smell my after-play sweat,
Because for you it is one of the most sourest yet sweetest scents you've ever smelled.
We are still trying to figure out, what lies between this their-so-called mistake?
Does it satisfy them? Seeing us in pain because of their judgments?
We. They. Us.
Those words have their spellings different, but unite in the same meaning.
And that's HUMAN.
Homographs. Homonyms.
Homosexuals. Heterosexuals. Bisexuals. Lesbians. Transgenders.
Please consider the word "regardless" in all aspects.
We are. They are deserve to be respected. Respect US.
Love deserves US.
And I saw the last part of the story, it was beautifully written at the last part of the book.
It says this:
They are rainbows.
Every person who touches and kisses the lips of their same sex is love.
They still belong in your skies.
They still need your eyes to witness our beauty.
And not a disaster that you would curse.
They maybe second, if not first.
They should not be put to last.
They will end every rain. They will shine through the darkness
They are rainbows that can light up your after-rain days.
In the end, it is our love that will matter.
Acceptance may not come at our desired times.
It may destroy our beings.
But, my love, in each other's arms, in each other's hearts, we will all be safe.
In love's direction, we won't get lost.
And in this road full of weakening bodies, teary eyes, tired and broken hearts; love will be our safest driver.
Love will always prevail.
But this story is not as typical as you think.
It is not a typical love story that your mom used to tell you.
Where a prince should kiss the princess to break the spell;
Or a boy who tirelessly wishes and throws coins into the wishing well.
Nor a heroic journey of a man with mythical-creature opponents
That your dad used to narrate
Together with his matching sound effects and actions.
Phew phew, boom boom blog blog. phew.
This story is a mix of sweeter than fairy tales,
and bitter than death of a protagonist.
Of comfort and defeat.
Mixed with sweet and bitter taste.
Will beat everything with holding each hands in faith.
"We were just two persons met in one purpose
Who belong to the same notion and belief
That no two persons with same sex should be holding each other's hands
Nor kissing each other's lips in public,
Or two persons exchanging "I love you's".
I met him without expectations;
When things kept running on my mind.
He is the one, and always be the one that I will never get tired of.
He has this impact on me that I would always love to feel.
His soft-enlivening voice that soothes my inner self down to my soul
Voice that sounds way better than my favorite songs that I used to play
One word he says is enough. He is enough.
Everything he does is just so perfect,
Like what I've always been asking to God,
"What did I do to deserve this human being?"
Because he is. He is.
He is astonishingly
He is ravishingly,
He is sexually perfect.
All of these unfamiliar words couldn't even describe how perfect he is to me.
His smell, his touch that could make the withered flowers grew back to its beautiful form.
That could restore shattered pieces of me
which were destroyed by catastrophes and its aftermaths.
His lips? Fuck. His lips! His lips that always drive me crazy.
Every time his lips touch mine,
I could feel how the sun feels the satisfaction whenever he kisses the bay in pre-night.
That you used to love to watch from afar.
His kisses tracing my lines thru his lips.
The lines in his palms, I could feel it. How he caressed my cheeks, down to my abdomen.
Up from above, he brought me to the places where I'd wanted to be.
It was a crazy journey. I could still feel his warm breath. His whisper in my ears. And his presence still lingers.
That was the happy part of the story.
Life sometimes comes with sorrows.
So does my story.
So does my story.
My story.
But it was not that easy.
It didn't start in an easy way.
It all started as a secret.
Sssssh!
A secret wherein hope remained unseen in the light,
and still hides in our shadows
That until now is kept.
Kept not because we've wanted it.
But kept because of the fear.
Fear of maybe we would not get the love
But instead we would just get hates.
That this world always got.
Prejudices. Negative praises.
that would come from people's mouths with no brakes.
What should we do?
Are we really dirty?
What should we do?
Are we unworthy?
What should we do?
Don't we really deserve the love?
What should we do?
I want to wash away the dirt from their minds.
Our uncleaned image that they've classified to us.
They're being brainwashed by the set norms that they believe it's true.
People still believe that we are against.
We are illegal. We are restrictions.
We are just pieces of shit that need to be obliterated.
And do not belong in this fucking society.
It hurts. Yes, it hurts. Knowing the fact that things are not just as easy we think they are.
They are not. It will not.
That you would have to cut every part of you just to fit-in in this society.
Just to be accepted.
To fit in the roles that you have to do.
Mommy, daddy, I'm different. I'm such an embarrassment to our family.
Would you punch me? Would you hurt me? Would you curse me?
Would you humiliate me in front of many people?
Mom, Dad; the truth is I'm not different.
I'm still your boy. I'm still that kid you used to carry.
Whom you used to love his check-shaped bird drawings.
I'm still the boy whom you've always wanted to kiss my booboo.
Whom you've always loved to smell my after-play sweat,
Because for you it is one of the most sourest yet sweetest scents you've ever smelled.
We are still trying to figure out, what lies between this their-so-called mistake?
Does it satisfy them? Seeing us in pain because of their judgments?
We. They. Us.
Those words have their spellings different, but unite in the same meaning.
And that's HUMAN.
Homographs. Homonyms.
Homosexuals. Heterosexuals. Bisexuals. Lesbians. Transgenders.
Please consider the word "regardless" in all aspects.
We are. They are deserve to be respected. Respect US.
Love deserves US.
And I saw the last part of the story, it was beautifully written at the last part of the book.
It says this:
They are rainbows.
Every person who touches and kisses the lips of their same sex is love.
They still belong in your skies.
They still need your eyes to witness our beauty.
And not a disaster that you would curse.
They maybe second, if not first.
They should not be put to last.
They will end every rain. They will shine through the darkness
They are rainbows that can light up your after-rain days.
In the end, it is our love that will matter.
Acceptance may not come at our desired times.
It may destroy our beings.
But, my love, in each other's arms, in each other's hearts, we will all be safe.
In love's direction, we won't get lost.
And in this road full of weakening bodies, teary eyes, tired and broken hearts; love will be our safest driver.
Love will always prevail.
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