I was reading the other day this article, it’s mainly statistics conducted on young people which showed a higher percentage of teenage pregnancies among the gay population. Shocking, no? I mean why would gays and lesbians want to have sex with the opposite sex, which is the only way to get an unwanted pregnancy? It must be that homosexuals are not really homosexuals as they claim, it must be that they became homosexuals because they had a bad experience with the opposite sex (e.g. an unwanted pregnancy). Those who never had a pregnancy case must’ve had another sort of bad experience.
Well, I doubt it. No not because I never had bad experiences with men. I mean I had bad experiences with men but then again almost every woman I know has had at least one horribly bad experience with men; that was not enough to turn almost every woman I know into a Lesbian, hell even I am not a Lesbian.
But read the article carefully, the scientist himself/herself gives you a hint to where to look for the answer. Homosexuals seek heterosexual sex to cover up for the fact that they are homosexuals. Other explanations could be given, but the need to hide your homosexuality is enough to get you in trouble.
Which takes us to the real problem behind this unhealthy phenomenon, homophobia. You see as Meems we never recommend a coming out to anyone. It is dangerous to do so. Even if you are accidently outed and therefore predict problems, deny it! Say it is not true and do whatever it takes to convince others that you are not gay! Hypocrite you may think but this is often less dangerous than facing homophobic parents.
Keep in mind people, heal homophobia not homosexuality. Homosexuality is healthy biodiversity, homophobia is a dangerous form of xenophobia. Just as being black is not an illness, racism is. The Jews were not the problem, Hitler was.
What usually happens with sexual minorities like ours is that we are not born into our minorities, black people are born from black families, now they may be the only black family but at least they have their parents that are like them. And the same is for Jews for example. But you can be a homosexual born from heterosexual parents. In that case you will feel very alienated, you feel that you are alone, and that you are probably wrong, something must be wrong with you. And invisibility weighs heavily on you, you realize that others will not understand. If others know, they will react negatively, they might look at you differently, but they might also mock you or physically attack you. If you work, you may lose your job. So you better not be outed!
This is particularly the case when you are still in school, for many reasons:

School environments are the most obvious examples of peer pressure and conformism pressure. School regulations, or the fact that the kid’s life is centered on his school, the spirit of competition, the idea that anything else than your school is negligible once compared to your school performance… all these factors contribute to making your school experience a really difficult one if you don’t conform to the majority.

You cannot control your school environment, you may be totally convinced that your homosexuality does not influence your normalcy (which is rare but still) you are forced to be in an environment strongly influenced by parental authority (LBGTs trying to raise awareness in schools are first and foremost scared of parental disapproval and fury, even when the legislation is favorable).
As a result, please don’t be gay in school, unless you live in some areas of Belgium where they like homosexuals. There is like this unspoken law that says that you cannot be gay in school, very few people escape its tyranny.

This is why this study is so relevant to our work in Meem. You see, we painfully lack studies on queer issues in the Middle East. Turning to other regions for material can help, but it has its limitations, if they survey homosexual adults then the situation they live in is different than the situation of adults that live here in Lebanon. Unfortunately, school environments are still a bit closer to our situation right now in the Middle East. Plus, this study emphasized the results of homophobia, instead of trying to explain homosexuality. I honestly don’t care what made me queer, what I care about is how I am treated because of my homosexuality. And this study, just like many others, proves, that homophobia kills, thus the urgency of dealing with it. The world didn’t start admitting the existence of Gay Men in the States until the HIV epidemic, and this is only one of the problems that the homophobia imposes on us.

The homophobic society we live in uses the results of its homophobia to prove that we are sick leeches that need to be dealt with at all cost. And that is one of the reasons why we work to break the Lesbian stigma. We don’t smoke because we sleep with women, we don’t do drugs, we don’t cut our veins, we don’t abuse our lovers because we sleep with women and we don’t do any of it because we have a problem with our gender identity. No. We suffer all these problems because of homophobia. Because we are not accepted, not even from those that we need to accept us, we suffer all this because our own parents would much rather see us dead than see us for who we really are, because our life-long friends would stop wanting our friendship because they fear us as predators.

To change all that, in ourselves and in others, we wish to change things. We want you to see our true colors, and love us because or in spite of them. Is that too much to ask for?

Contemplating in the metaphysical world
the avalanche of mysteries
ana, the ocean of knowledge.
Dead-end i reached, when it came
to love, feelings, PASSION.

Age after age
wise thinkers discussed it.
But the harder it is
as u dig deeper.

I probed inside my internal feelings
for credibility floods from that
of a ” BROKEN HEART”.
Yet frozen as an iceberg i became
scanning my emotions for my true love.

Her cruelty and rejection
made my heart a dark cave,
in its corner a twilight for hope.
The hope that one day she will be mine.
Then 2 angel wings i shall give her:
right one for passion and
the left one for security.

Till then i am no more than,
a dead body moaning for life,
and a soul crying out for freedom.
My whole life is at the palm of her hand.

To me love is a conspiracy,
were your HEART is the
HEAD conspirator.

~Hiba~

We scare the world, YOU and I
We even scare ourselves sometimes
I think your thoughts…and we collide on the same shore before the sun sets

This is not a movie or a cheap novel…and it’s far beyond human logic
This is something that I will take with me…when I finally close my eyes
YOU set this spirit free…and flew it to the highest places between earth and Heaven
It felt good! To breathe!
That grave I dug for myself was smothering me!
With every part of me that died… I couldn’t locate a pulse…
I didn’t know I was a beating heart…I didn’t know I was a drop of blood…
YOU healed my losses and inhaled my aching breathes
And somehow along the way…I saw me and the things I didn’t know I had in me

A short journey so far but we had to cross the valley of vultures…
On the other side…I choked in fear to throw a look on my right and not find YOU there
I looked back first…and I saw them all sickening! Crawling in the dirt of defeat…
Then I felt a warm squeeze on my right hand…I knew it was YOU…
We made it… what’s there to scare us from now on?

Maybe there won’t be a tomorrow…but who cares when I have YOU this close? Right here…
Maybe it’s true… We bent the rules that are made in nowhere by no one! So be it…
But I exist…for the first time…I can feel myself standing on a rigid ground!
No missing or dying parts! No cuts or bruises! No drama or sad stories to tell!
I don’t know…I don’t understand…I don’t fear…I don’t care…!
My fearless dream…my rocky adventure…my defining story…YOU.

From Jexy To Caroline “Babe…you’re my firefly in the dark! I LOVE YOU MY GORGEOUS!”

A care I lost
Made me live a pain
A strong pain
A pain that is following me always
With no rest at all
No rest, no happiness
But only a cry,a scream,and a tear

Je ne comprends pas
Pourquoi les gens ne me comprennent pas
Pourquoi les gens ne m’aiment pas
Et je ne les aime pas

Pas de compagnie
Pas de vie
Pas de rire
Mais seulement un cri

Une amie est a cote de mois depuis longtemps
une amie est gentille avec mois depuis longtemps
Et avec cette amie je suis contente merci dieu pour cette connaissance que j’ai eu avec cette amie

~~Meem~~

I was thinking to myself,.How sweet she is?!Are you sweet like honey, chocolate, or Caramel?What am I going to feel when my lips kiss her?What kinda pleasure I am going to feel rushing in my veins!I took a moment traveling in my brain, searching for that pleasure’s pains.But after looking around, I realized, that I am still here, and she is still there.Could I hear you once again. It could be somewhere, I don’t know where.It is too much pleasure, it is too much pain,that’s what I feel when I hear her name.But I still come back and scream, I wanna hear it again.Sometime I look through out the years, all I can remember is my tears.I am writing this song for me and her. I’ll love you forever,even when she is not close to me.I have promised myself, to love her, so I won’t break my word.“My world was mess before you, but look at it now, and you are the blame.You shined my life all the way to the end. Even if you weren’t there, anymore I don’t care.When my life start to mess around, I will come back to where it begin, look at your eyes and start all over againAfter all, I think how sweet you are. Honey, chocolate, or Caramel.There is something sweeter, I say. It gives me beautiful pain.So sweet, only love I’ll gain.So baby could I taste, your love again.”

~~ Jo Dream

Transgender Day of Remembrance 2008

This Monday, I was reading this interesting article: Tonight we are going to party like it’s 1985 in which the author, Helen G who is a Transwoman, is denouncing the nomination of Julie Bindel (no seriously check out the link to her Wikipedia page, it’s short and interesting) for the Stonewall awards.

Why you may ask? Because, according to Helen, Julie is a Transphobe. Interesting, non? You see this case may not be directly relevant to our cause or our struggle as Meems, but it does in a way portray the everlasting, internalized xenophobia. Let me summarize for you what has been discussed in those articles:

You have on one hand, Julie Bindel and whoever she represents, who says things like:

As a lesbian, I no longer want to be lumped in with a list of folk defined by ‘odd’ sexual practices, she means anything that is not Lesbian
Transsexuals, having received short shrift from heterosexual society, asked to be included in our rainbow alliance
Queer (anyone who is into “kinky” sex)
Questioning (those having a think about who and how they might shag in the future)
finally (for now) Intersex (those born with biological features that are simultaneously perceived as male and female)
The mantra now at “gay” meetings is a tongue-twisting LGBTQQI.
But I for one do not wish to be lumped in with an ever-increasing list of folk defined by “odd” sexual habits or characteristics. Shall we just start with A and work our way through the alphabet? A, androgynous, b, bisexual, c, cat-fancying d, devil worshipping. Where will it ever end?
No seriously that is exactly what she says, I did not in any way alter any word she said, you can follow the link to her article to check. Now to be honest, I do understand her frustration… Or at least I feel like I should understand it somehow. For example, Lesbians were heavily implicated in the birth of the feminist movement, but then their cause was silenced to ensure the safety of the feminist cause, they gave more than they took. Then in the gay movement they were very implicated also but they were quickly rendered invisible, for all so many reasons. And I have heard a few times trans people make it very clear that they are not homosexuals, NO, they were just born in the wrong body!

So I guess I understand where all the frustration may come from.

Now on the other hand you have Helen G and whoever she represents (apparently a lot of Trans individuals, and more specifically Feminist Trans women) states that the Lesbians never did and never will accept transsexuals as true/full women.

Which gets me to ask myself a few questions, like for example: why is it so difficult for trans and homos to work together? Let’s look at the Lebanese scene, I work on queer issues. I have been working with gays and lesbians for like 2 years now and though the gay/lesbian community admits the presence and importance of trans issues, though they want to be inclusive, it is not that simple. Sometimes I even wonder if Trans people want to be part of the queer scene. Sometimes our goals are so different that I wonder what could possibly bring us together?

For LGB individuals the goal is to be accepted as people that are attracted to people from the same sex. Trans individuals want to be accepted as individuals whose sexual organs do not coincide with their self-identified gender. Right?

Of course it can be right! If this is how you perceive your activism then the previous statement is true for you. And in that case, I don’t really see how you can combine both in one group that works for the same mission.

But keep in mind that this is not how everyone sees activism, this is not how I see activism and this is not what Meem’s mission statement consists of. My activism in Meem is just part of a greater cause, it is the struggle for diversity. I don’t really care if I am accepted as a woman that loves women and I don’t care if I am woman that is not really a woman that does not belong to the female gender. I honestly don’t care. I allow myself to be with the person I am in love with and I allow myself to be person I am, gender and social standards are not really my problem, even prison is not really an issue for me.

My struggle, my goal, my grail is to alter society so that no one would suffer discrimination, no one would feel wrong because of their sexual orientation, their gender identity, their sex, their ethnic origin, their religion, their political choices, their social class… I want no one to suffer from discrimination… Enough already!

Is this feasible? Is it realistic? Probably not, but you know what? It doesn’t matter. I want a mission that makes sense and for me this definition makes sense. And through this definition, trans individuals and homos fight for the same cause, eradicating heteronormativity and this is only one aspect of what I want to work on. But it is the same social mechanism that leads to both homophobia and transphobia. It is those little social boxes that we are supposed to fit it:

“perfect boy, perfect girl, perfect love, perfect marriage proposal, perfect wedding, perfect kids, in a perfect house, with the perfect dog and the perfect cat that have the perfect fight.”

I fit nowhere in that definition, neither do gays, lesbians, bisexuals, queers, questioning, transgender, transsexual, transvestites, Intersexes, single mothers, shy men, atheists, anarchists, people who can’t afford fancy wedding rings and outfits… and so many others. And all of these groups are my activism allies.

Well I guess that says it all for me… I am queer and I am here to stay. Yes attack me, beat me, insult me, laugh at me and put me in jail. It is ok, you don’t know any better. I do. Heteros may not agree, lesbians may not be interested and trans’ may ridicule me, but then again, I have had worse, I have survived times when I didn’t agree with myself, when I was not interested in my own ideas and when I ridiculed myself. What do you think that you can do to make it worse for me?

I guess Bon Jovi was right, it’s my way. It’s now or never.

Pazuzu

Since we missed the collaborative writing session in the House the other day I felt like I should be compensating about that. So let’s talk about Movements, since the next issue of Bekhsoos will be: Bekhsoos l Movement. Hm, I guess I should not speak of what a movement is or what it is not, I’m sure others will talk to you about it, and they know what they are talking about, unlike me.

What I will talk about is movement in my own experience and according to what I have seen in Lebanon. So what I am about to say is blatantly personal and perhaps a bit subjective.




So let’s see, what makes a wo/man want to be part of a movement? Most of us never get into a movement, the movement is just the exteriorization of what we have inside us. You do not register to become part. But you would realize (often very early on) that there are things that are either horrible or that just can be better. Then you start asking yourself why is this idea never discussed or dealt with. Until the day you find people like you that think like you or that are repulsed by the same things that bother you. That is not really a problem; you can find something in common with virtually everyone. No really you can. A movement is so vast and general that anyone can be part of it.

But then the hard part is to how to make a movement efficient, who to ally yourself with, and what other movements to include in the first, without jeopardizing it. We are all bundles of traumas walking on the streets and trying to make some sense out of this life and to take some pleasure out of this existence. There are so many details that the actual essence is lost. What makes Pazuzu Pazuzu and what are the details that just came to modulate and influence Pazuzu. Take out of my system every insult, every harassment, every trauma, every influencial idea I have received, take out every moment of guilt, of despair and humiliation, every tear and every outbreak of anger. Then take away every Mass I attended, every Christmas dinner, every laughter with friends and every shoulder I cried on… And when you are done removing all those moment of “influence” try looking for my essence, what will be left of Pazuzu once all of these details are removed? Nothing I fear.

It’s easy to say “I… I think… I believe… I know…” But who would understand it when I say that? Only the people who know what I know, believe in what I believe in, who think like I think, inno bi2ikhtisar, who are like me.

You know what is funny? We like to believe that we defend our cause because it is right, but in fact, we defend it because we want to improve things for ourselves. Whether the cause is righteous or not, is both subjective and impossible to measure. The idea to defend a cause that does not affect you directly is very romantic, attractive and everything. The Straight-Gay Alliance(s) strive on this concept. But it doesn’t work, let’s face it. In societies made of at least 80% of straight people, the Straight and Gay alliances have but a few straight individuals. Of course, the mere presence of these few make a huge difference. But why? Because, in my subjective meaningless opinion, it is because straight people would not relate to gay people. Three years ago, I was one of two straight supporters of Helem that I knew of. Now the other straight supporter of Helem, turned out to be gay or bisexual or queer, I never had the chance to talk to him. And me? Well I am clearly an everlasting queer; until time proves me wrong.

Ok, now bear with me and re-read what I have already written… As I read it I feel that it’s totally false though it is true. You see, if I was not a queer activist I would have been a “something else” activist. This is what I always knew, deep inside, but I thought I’d be working with people dealing with AIDS or suicide survivors. I remember that 2 years ago, a close friend of mine actually told me that I will move out of my place, move somewhere closer to Beirut and work in activism. His prognostics are slowly coming true. Is this common to others? Yes to some not all.

It’s like each person is an activist differently. Non? I wonder what makes you want to be an activist or not?

Pazuzu

Fellow women, how many of you haven’t faked it at least once in her life. Yes I am talking about Orgasm. And talking about that, do you know that in Egypt they still practice circumcision on Girls. And how sexist is that?! Seriously! I never imagined that, in our times, sexism would still reach a point where a girl cannot feel her clit anymore which can be, for some cases, the peak of pleasure… Or all of them: p hihi.




And it’s not only in Egypt, Africa, Arab world, Even in Lebanon they still do that in very hardcore traditional families living in the suburbs. And it’s a pity.

I think the only thing that would make that acceptable on a mean level, and make men equal to woman this time is to remove men’s Balls. But that’s not what we wish for. All we wish for is for people to leave our Clits alone, and our bodies in general, to claim them as our own properties and admit our rights of ownership of our own selves. Sounds so funny, I mean can you imagine? We don’t own our Own bodies. So lame…..

But you know, when we will achieve that “body ownership”? I believe, it’s when you make the world know that whenever 1 woman is touched therefore you are touching everywoman. And if you touch any woman’s clit or dysfunction it, it’s like hurting a bunch of crazy feminists that value there clit, and yes we do, and yes our clit deserves it.

And you don’t want to piss a bunch of crazy feminists. Or do you!

Nadz, please don’t censor that. Thank you.

Anyway you know me as usual I always randomly get out of my subject and circumcision today is not really my subject.

So anyway I’ve been addicted to this website for quite a long time: http://postsecret.blogspot.com/ and there’s one secret that touched me a lot:





It’s about a woman who is not satisfied with her marital sexual life, and to protect her husband’s feelings she is not talking with him about it.

As I said in the beginning, how many of us had once at least faked an orgasm? Or how many of us still haven’t had an orgasm with a partner? I am not talking about lesbians; I am talking about women in general here.

This taboo and protection towards the other partner especially if it’s a man is depriving a lot of woman of their right of pleasure, and we can’t blame this woman because, in our oriental society, a girl should always pretend she’s a virgin and a guy should always pretend he’s a stud, and a girl should always pretend to orgasm so she can protect the “stud’s” self esteem because women are always the ones who should sacrifice a lot of their rights for society and all those fucked up taboos that they are raised upon and breastfed , and the world should listen and know that this is not fair, and God is famous for being fair, and humans are not, therefore this whole equation about women being beneath men and not equal to them is a fake equation. This equation is, I may add, the Father of all Evils and not the mother. It’s year 2008 god damn it, what are we waiting for 2069 to talk about our sexual desires and lives, to burn our push up bras and to protect our clits and right to orgasm once and twice and millions of times. Women need to know their rights, I cannot blame them when they are living in a box of traditions and brainwashing, that’s why whenever you meet another woman who is not orgasming or who doesn’t know she is entitled to her own body, sexual life and pleasure, please tell her that she is and that it’s ok if she’s married and had orgasmed in her life before she is 40. Tell her for us women, so she’d tell her daughters that would become another generation of women. It’s not wrong it’s not “3ayb”. The “3ayb” is when you are born with a pleasure tool and they cut it for you just so you don’t feel and the more “3ayb” is when you shut up and accept it. And if you don’t know your rights the biggest “3ayb” is when other woman know about it and not tell you or do something about it.

~Imm L Meem~

It is true, I am Shezze, I am queer. What is even truer is that I am deeply proud of my shouzouz. You see, shouzouzé means that I don’t belong to where I was born and that is something to be proud of, non? Let me explain to you.
According to the norms of where I was born, I am a woman. I have the breasts, the vagina and the soft skin, ya3ne I am a woman, walaw? Therefore I cannot walk alone on the street =I am an “unperfect woman” = men would have the right to harass me on the street.
Tough I resent this mentality I realize that this is the reality of where I was born, just as the pacifists during the civil war realized that war was the reality of where they were born and they were forced to hide away. Now of course this doesn’t mean that there were no way I could be independent, to protect myself all I need is a car… hm, but I don’t have one. So I avoid stay out of my house after 9:00pm.
So on Friday, I was going home at the limit of the permitted where I was born, at 9:30pm. Une fois 3al Dawra, I realize that I didn’t have my wallet with me. Oops! It must have fallen in my friends’ car, so I call her (yes another condition to survive where I was born is to have a cell phone to salvage you in difficult situations such as the one I was in). 3 minutes later I find out that I still have some money on me and can go home without having her coming to pick me up. It was 9:45pm, OooO… I smell danger.
But it’s going to be fine I think to myself. I just make sure I call my friend telling her not to come pick me up and head straight to where the buses… or were supposed to be. I had exceeded my time limit, the buses were gone and I was in serious trouble. But it’s fine, I can survive this.
The fact that I was walking alone, a bit uncertain going back and forth, unsure what to do for a couple of minutes, meant that most of men/predators had detected my smell and were observing me. I knew I was going to get harassed, I knew that a girl in my situation is for them a victim that they are legally allowed to torture. But it’s fine! Again, I have been in these situations before and I survived them and lived to talk about it.
Well, I passed by a couple of guys, one those men that scare you (or is it any man that scares you when you are in my situation?). Anyway, typically the first sign of your vulnerability in these situations is that the predators start discussing you in your face:

- Bint yamma sabe hayda?

And for our non Arabic readers :

- Is he a boy or a girl?

But it’s fine I guess, it wasn’t the first time that my sexual identity was questioned, though I didn’t look particularly boyish that day. The real treat was when the second guy opens his mouth. I guess he was encouraged by his friend’s attitude, thinking maybe I am a boy that likes to look like girls, to be honest, I am not sure what he was thinking but he said to me:

-Baddak nitsalla? Ta3a nitsalla

Again, respecting the non Arabic readers:

-Wanna have fun? Let’s have fun together

I wish to solicit your attention, dear non Arabic reader, the Arabic makes the difference between the male and the female you are talking to, so I know for sure that the dude assumed I was a he. Now I may not look like a woman but I certainly do not look like a man! So in fact I look like an androgynous thing. My superior intelligence forewarns me that this particular predator, like any other predator of his kind, is not particularly brilliant.
You don’t get where I’m getting at? Ok I’ll be clear: The predator assumed I was a teenage boy. A real boy, like old enough to be 156cm but not old enough to have a beard. But, dear reader, if you from where I was born, what would be more revolting for you? The fact that the predator finds a male appealing or that he finds a kid appealing? For me it is clear, it is his pedophilia that bothers me. His taste for underage individuals repulses me. But I find it sad that in my society expressions of both Homosexuality and pedophilia are almost always there. Heyk, disgusting bundles of perversion walking on the street late at night, when the good people are all safe at home, asleep.
Disturbing, non?

~Pazuzu and Her Serpentine Penis

Pointing your fingers at me
I’m so different…
Marginalizing me
I’m so different…
Spitting at me
I’m so different…
Hurting me
I’m so different…
Blaming
so different…
Hitting me
I’m so different…
Underestimating me
I’m so different…
Hunting me
I’m so different…
Dumping me
I’m so different…
People,
I’m going to live my life…
Carry on and never give in
I’m going to make my own destiny
I AM WHO I AM
With or without you
I’M INDIFFERENT






11/09/2008

~Silent Soul

~POWER TO THE FINOCHIOS

There were two girls, living apart
Once they met, and the flame burnt their heart
This was the apple, this was the sin
And the whole world dumped them in a bin

God is Love, and Love was their blame
They had to pretend and become with no name
To hide themselves from the wolves of society
That made hunting these girls their best specialty

Condemned for loving one another
They lost father and mother
No friends, no support, no understanding
And these two lovers were left with nothing

Criminals…CONVICTS
Being themselves caused them to pay through their nose
But instead of giving up their love, they chose to live in conflicts
Carry on, and make out of their love a prose

The day will come when the world will see
That their Apple is nothing but the fact of what they can really be.





~ Silent Soul on 04/09/2008

And when she cries, it rains

And when she look at the stars, they fall

They wish, the stars wish she will wish one day a wish and they commit suicide for her

She can just wish and from the skies they fall

And when she cries, it rains

And she doesn’t cry because of the rain, the skies rain because she cries

And the earth doesn’t really rotate, the earth only rotates around her

And the circles weren’t circles before, they softened and turned round to fit the pupil of her eye

And it wasn’t really cold because of snow, it was cold because she likes to wear her leather jacket

And the nights are not really dark, it’s only because she loves black

And the stars every night commit suicide for her

And the moon is round only because she likes pizza

And the moon is white because she likes snow, but it isn’t cold because of snow

It’s cold, it’s cold, cold, cold beneath her skin

And the wine isn’t really red, neither grapes are, the wine is only red so that when she holds the wine glass the color inside will fit her nail polish

And then she lights a cigarette and blow, blow,blow, blow smoke

And the blue, yes the blue, blue like the ocean blue, blue like the skies, and the skies feel blue, when the stars commit suicide for her and the skies are only blue because of her

And the ocean have fish simply because she likes fish and the ocean is blue because she likes it when the oceans are blue

Ad she lights her cigarette and blows, blows, blows, and she blows in the blue, forms clouds and then it rains and she’s not sad because of the rain

It always rains because she’s sad and it rains and it rains

And the stars throw themselves on her feet and the stars are circled to fit in her eyes, and then you can see the stars in the skies.yes.the ones that commit suicide for her… she keep them in her eyes

And in her eyes you see the galaxies and the skies

And she blows blows blows her cigarette

So what if everyone else dies… and the world is not the world… and the world “is” only because of her.

everynight i see a star fall for
a woman. who can blame them

im l meem

There’s a YouTube video that’s been circulating quite a bit of late that gay people in Lebanon seem to love. It’s being touted as an “educational video to be shared with family and friends which answers frequently asked questions about the origin of homosexuality. The video takes us on a conversational journey with three animated characters (George the gay guy, Martha the lesbian, and Christian the homophobe), and attempts to make the argument through reference to flawed scientific studies that homosexuality is inborn, innate, static, and unchangeable, and that’s why society must find it in its heart to tolerate the queers. You can watch the video here:



I hate this stuff. It offends me. Taking this argument to its logical conclusion, it would follow that if sexual orientation were not actually genetic or inborn, then it would somehow cease to be acceptable or worthy of social tolerance. I understand why some gay people like this line of argument: “It’s not my fault, I was born this way, please accept me”. But for gay activists, those who are (supposed to be) actively working to challenge the structures of society that allow for discrimination on the basis of non-normative sexuality to be propagating this bullshit is not only ignorant, it is also supremely irresponsible.The scientific “evidence” presented in the video is flawed in the first place. The birth-order argument, which claims that boys who have older brothers are more likely to be gay because pregnant women carrying male children produce anti-bodies against them, and therefore the more boys she has, the stronger her antibodies become, causing the boys to become increasingly “feminized”. If ever there was proof that there is no such thing as objective knowledge in science, and that just like every other form of knowledge production it is filtered through the lens of normative cultural tropes and beliefs, then this is it. Heteronormative society holds that only males can be attracted to females, and only females to males, and that’s the way it should be. Along comes science, and instead of questioning or problematizing this belief, it takes it as a given, attempting to explain homosexuality by proving that there is something of the female in gay men, and that’s why they end up being attracted to members of the same sex. For queer activists to promote this view is horribly, horribly wrong, not only because of flawed scientific methodology, but because they don’t even feel the need to question the heteronormative basis on which these arguments are built.And y’know, it’sactually ok to question science. Seven years after homosexuality was removed from the DSM-II (the diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders), the doctors decided to replace it with a new illness that they termed “gender identity disorder”. So the gays are now safe, but the trannies, they’re the ones who are f***ed up in the head. It’s no longer deviant sexual desire, it’s now deviant gender identity. In the diagnoses of both homosexuality and transgenderism, the explanation is that the person does not conform to what is deemed “normal” male or female. Unsurprisingly, the gays have nothing to say about this.


And to top it all off, this apologetic “it’s not a choice video” ends with a supposedly funny skit where Martha the lesbian mentions how this one girl that she knows “goes back and forth” only to elicit a look of horror from George the gay guy who nudges her frantically and tells her to shut up. SHHHHH! DON’T LET THEM KNOW ABOUT THE BISEXUALS! THEY’LL RUIN EVERYTHING! Because really, how can the “gay gene” explain people whose sexuality is fluid? The very idea that sexuality is fluid is antithetical to orthodox gay rights activists whose entire argument is predicated on the belief in discrete, separate, stagnant, and categorical identities. The sexual and gendered expressions that straddle that uncomfortable space in-between, the transgenders, the bisexuals, the queers, have always been marginalized. And that marginalization seems to be completely acceptable. Hypocritical chants of “Celebrate Diversity” may be more honestly re-written as “Celebrate Some Diversity (the others don’t count)”.

What these gay rights activists fail to realize is that our struggle is so much bigger than this, and framing it in this way is extremely detrimental because it puts the bar so low. At the heart of this struggle lies everyone’s right to sexual freedom, the right to choose their own sexual partners without violence and discrimination, and regardless of whether their choice is due to a genetic mishap or not. And this means everyone. Decriminalizing homosexuality because “gay people don’t have a choice” does nothing to end discrimination against heterosexual people for sexual non-conformity (like women who have sex before marriage, honor crimes, or you-better-bleed-on-your-wedding-night-or-you’re-divorced syndrome). The right to freedom of choice becomes meaningless, and gay people themselves will suffer for it despite their current short-sightedness. If we don’t have an LGBT movement in Lebanon that can see this, then maybe its time for something new.

Shax

Obviously nowadays, anyone can launch a TV station and just blab about things they absolutely know nothing about! I was cruising through the channels, Saturday afternoon, i stumbled upon photos of Portia de Rossi and Ellen DeGeneres’ wedding…On El Jaras TV. I realized right away that the voice over really doesn’t fit nor describe what my eyes were seeing. The Presenter of this whatever show was saying: “Hayda 3eres Ellen w “Borita“…wlek shoufo kif 3am yetsarafo metel el couple el tabi3eh! 3am yere2so ma3 ba3ed!!!!” She was so in shock and hysterical and needed an urgent dose of XANAX! God Help her!
The first thing that was on my mind: “Seriously you dummy! You wanna trash them? Fine! But at least get the names right!”. And what added up, she was talking at the same time about the Indian man that married a certain animal! Is this where we belong? In the same category of man/animal marriage!? She kept displaying the photos over and over again, adding up “Hayda dod el din!“. The heavenly angels assigned her to label people and decide what’s wrong and what’s against religion! I wanted to call and ask her: “Honey, if the sight of Ellen and “Borita” sickens you this much…why do u keep displaying them?” But then again, every word she was saying was showing nothing but IGNORANCE.

Jexy

Hello everybody;
as it was mentioned on our meem calendar

we are having a Photoshop workshop this Wednesday 20 of august starting at 6:30 sharp.


Please be there on time because i will be giving an introduction of how you can use Photoshop and if you were late you will miss a lot of things and consistency is important so you can understand what is happening.

I hope you all are as excited as I am, we are going to have a lot of fun, Photoshop is a very fun program. If you want bring some photos of you that we can edit them and fix them and if you have any questions already that you would like me to answer, please email them to me no matter how silly they were, so i can cover them as well in the workshop

Best regards,
Im l Meem

Hey everybody!


So far, in our Book Club meetings, we have been reading about, and discussing, important issues like racism, the rights of physically disabled members of LGBT communities, social struggles and academia, and queer and transgendered identities, among others. And so we will continue. In the coming meeting, we are going to read something by a Lebanese Canadian lesbian about being a working class queer Arab woman in North America.

So join us this Monday, August 18 (5:30 sharp, at the House), to read excerpts from Joanna Kadi’s Thinking Class: Sketches from a Cultural Worker, as she shares her personal experiences and her opinions about the mainstream North American lesbian and gay community, and its mainstream culture in general. Kadi is one opinionated woman.

I hope to see you all there on Monday.

Enjoy your weekend,

The Calm Activist

Saturday the 16th at 4.p.m.
Workshop

Hello all
It was stated in the meem calendar that we will have a workshop about film as a tool for actisvism ? However that subject being too vast for a two hours workshop, I decided to give a workshop about the image of lesbians in the history of film starting 1910?

At the end of the workshop, those who are interested in a technical one, as in introduction to camera use and history of film technics and such , can put down their names so we can put together a workshop for Activist Development and give you the tools necessary to proceed .

Hope to see you tomorrow
TaKe Care
Shant

Cruising with my friend on a Friday night, I see that the traffic light was RED which as you all know means that we should wait till it goes green to drive, and so I waited. Suddenly, a taxi car btiksor 3layye wa 2iz bi2illei in a 3ayeet tone : ” SHU 2ANUNIYYE!!! ” it made me giggle in sarcasm
inno ma32ool hek sirna?!?! yallei byimshei 3ala l 2anoon bikun ma byiswa !!
please 7ada y2illei emtan Lebanon ra7 ysir balad mo7taram !
3anjad hopeless case!!!

~Teddy~

Remember when we were kids? We only saw as far as our own backyard! We thought that life consisted of getting your parents’ affection and getting our daily allowances to buy as much candy as our little tummies would fit! Can you remember when we would just want to finish our homework in time to play hide and seek before our bedtime? we thought this was it! We thought that life was playing house with your cousin, us being the house keeper, them being the doctors? We brought up our kids, made diner for our cousin/husband after their day at work…




Shhhh, no one tell my husband© 2007 by Lauren



But then we grew up, we understood what it meant, this whole mind game trick. We were unconsciously outraged and wanted revenge! So we started to build-up ourselves! We wanted more from life, we deserved more, and we would get it… But life got harder, we were no longer playing house with our cousin/doctor, we were living it with our lover/girlfriend and life just got a little bit more complicated! We both were strong, willing, overwhelmed and feminine and yet fierce; loving and yet logical; passionately in love and yet practical…

But life doesn’t give you breaks and chances just because you need them, it challenges you and tries so hard to bring you down… Why? Maybe just to build you up, empower you, make you proud of yourself because of the things you have overcome? Or maybe just ‘because’? Searching for the reasons doesn’t really help, searching for the whys is quite useless because at the end of the day, life doesn’t really give a crap about you. It just goes on, running and running, you just have to keep up otherwise you would be left behind with your own regrets and what-ifs…


Some people chose to just stop and enjoy the moment and find themselves blissfully happy in their own existence, in their own world. Some people refuse to wait it out! They will fight until they’re drained out of their last breath! They probably don’t know why and will never find that out but they learned that it doesn’t matter why the journey started. What makes all the difference is the destination, the wheres. Others realized that neither this nor that matters, what counts to them is the journey since they’ve lost the past and are uncertain of the future they tend to chose to enjoy the present. What matters to them is the hows.

Whether it was this or that, we are all, part of the same community, walking side by side trying to find that person who will walk right beside us and hold our hand throughout this whole ordeal. Some of the luckiest do find that special someone and appreciate her to the utmost while they have her. Others do find that special someone but are too scared to hold on to her just in case she leaves them with a broken heart. To those people I feel sorry, they will never know how great it feels to be blissfully happy and unaware.

To some of the most unfortunate, they will never find that person who completes them, and they will either keep on searching still hoping, or they will simply accept that fact and find out another truth about life which is to simply love yourself and enjoy life with everything it brings along…

In all the cases, we are never really happy or really sad because life will not cause you utmost misery or utmost bliss, this feeling comes from within. It’s a personal choice that if you chose your own path, your own heaven or hell…

I didn’t make that choice yet, I’m still waiting to see as much of the facts that my mind and heart can see and accept. Until then I chose to play house with my beloved and be blissfully happy that I got to taste that feeling and live it…

I guess that makes me lucky…

I always keep fresh basil between my diaries pages, I wish you can smell it! It’s the essence of memories and time.

You know, I miss going to bed without worrying about tomorrow! For just one night, one day not to worry about surviving tomorrow and another day of war.

Basil leaf © 2007 by brr2

I wish somebody told me when I was young, that life can wait. I wouldn’t have rushed into growing up. It’s true what they say, when we are young we can’t wait till we grow up, but then again when we are raging wars towards life and fighting our way in, sometimes we just want to stop, drop everything and go play.







But with what, play with what? Dreams?

And here if I may quote miss Tori Amos: “ So many dreams on shelf” and all what is between your hand is your personal profile declaring, in every page, You as a Failure.

The worst thing after disappointing the people you love; is disappointing yourself.

And I did…..

Not so hard to figure out, not so hard to measure.

You know how hard it is to wake up and get out of bed when you know you have nothing to do, and you know that whether you got out of bed or not, nothing in the world would be missing you, not even you. You are just a lame addition to the world. A perfect waste of energy and space.

Good things happen, to someone else indeed, I guess to someone who’s not living on the edge.

I met a friend a few days ago and he told me, when you hit rock bottom, the only way to look is up. But when you hit the bottom, and you say that’s it there wont be something worst, and then you slip deeper and deeper……

Now now, let’s blame it on gravity. Gravity keeps pulling me down, and guess what, there is nowhere else to go.



~Anonymous~

They judge you
They don’t even know you
You have known me for a year
Or maybe for two
You have known me for three years
Or maybe moreYou don’t know my favorite color
Do you even know the color of my eyes?
You don’t know my fears
Do you even know what makes me laugh?
You don’t know my past
‘Cause you never bothered to ask
Do you even know what happened to me when I was a child?
You don’t know what this all means to me
Do you even know what I need?
Most probably you don’t even know my name
You never gave me credit for making an effort
To change what you hate about me
‘Cause you never knew who I was
When I come asking for advise
You push me away
And this is not what a friend would do
And this is not what a family would do
And this is not what a lover would do
A friend won’t showoff
A family should support
A lover should give
And that’s what you don’t do
This is not a cry for sympathy
Nor a cry for help
This is not a cry for attention
Nor a cry for care and love
It’s a cry of “wake up and smell the coffee”
When you care you ask
When you are asked you help
When I have been always there for you
You should always be there for me too!

L.A

I was checking my inbox, when I found an e-mail announcing a workshop called “What Happened to the T in LGBT”, it didn’t mean much to me, of course I was going to attend since it’s one of Meem activities and a foreign person was being hosted. It was only a couple of days ago when we were having a discussion about transgender and queer people, and how Meem should work more on including their issues. I remember getting lost in that conversation, my ideas concerning gender and queer theory were blur and I couldn’t relate to any of these issues, I knew that if I were to think about it, it will confuse me even more.
And then it was Friday, the day I met Sinan, the feminist trans-guy who was here for the workshop I read about.
Hearing him talk about gender in general, his own experience with figuring out his gender identity, queer theory and the way he relates to it, and how he came to identify as a feminist, it changed me. Everything was suddenly clear to me, and another flow of thoughts came rushing, thoughts that helped me understand a bit more my own gender identity, but more importantly made me realize what it really means to be inclusive of all LGBTQ issues, and not leaving behind any of them. His passion, his understanding of the cause, his perspective… Although I can’t explain what exactly changed in my way of viewing things, I know it made a huge shift. They say that there are certain people who come into your life and inspire you in a way that changes you, I was inspired.

~Ran~

Je marche sur cette plage dans cette nuit d’été, toute seule mes pieds flirtant avec l’eau si sereine… je berce mon corps sur le sable chaud et m’en vais dans le temps d’autrefois… le temps où nous étions toutes les deux ensemble heureuses. Je ferme mes yeux tout doucement et je dessine nos pas d’autrefois, j’imite notre danse à deux… un, deux, trois, et un, deux, trois… je suis très contente d’être à nouveau sur cette plage avec ton souvenir. Autrefois j’étais très contente aussi sur cette plage avec toi…je te serre fort contre mon cœur et je respire le parfum de tes cheveux jusqu’à m’en couper le souffle… je sens ton souffle contre ma nuque… j’en ai la chair de poule tellement je t’aime, tellement j’aime ton corps et ses courbes, tellement j’adore ton sourire, tellement j’adore tes larmes…Et je continue notre danse, sur cette plage ou je t’ai aimé pour la dernière fois… tu me manque tellement, ça me fait du mal au cœur…Et un, deux, trois, et un, deux, trois… et tu m’enlace si fort, mes pieds dansant maintenant sur la brise de la nuit…Mes yeux sont toujours fermés… c’est incroyable à quel point je peux me rappeler de ton parfum vanille, le goût de tes lèvres sucrés, ta peau si douce, si belle, et ton sourire qui me met en esclavage…Et puis je reviens au moment présent… je suis seule… tu es partie… mon cœur te pleure amèrement… mais mes yeux sont secs… ils n’en peuvent plus…Je suis seule avec notre plage, notre mer, notre lune et notre nuit… Est-ce que tu peux sentir la mer… ce parfum si familier…là où tu es je suis sûre que tu sais que je t’aimerai jusqu’à la fin des temps, là où tu es je suis sûre que tu nous imagine dansant ensemble, imitant nos pas de cette nuit… là où tu es je suis sûre que tu m’aime toujours… là où tu es… je te retrouverai un de ces jours…

Jusqu’à ce moment, ce souvenir si doux amer restera avec moi…

~Kim64~

Ce que j’aimerais te murmurer que chaque fois que je pense a toi, mon cœur s’arrête de battre tout carément! Ce que j’aimerais te dire que chaque fois que je pense a toi, j’ai le souffle tout court! Ce que j’aimerais te confier que le seul fait de regarder dans tes yeux, m’emporte loin… très loin…

Cependant je te neglige, je t’esquive. Je pretends que je n’te kiffe même pas. Que tout simplement je suis très froide envers toi. Et que d’autres, y’en a assez pour me plaire.

Et ce dont tu ne te rends même pas compte sont les sentiments de rage qui m’envahissent chaque fois je vous voies ensemble! Ce que j’essaie fort de cacher c’est la jalousie qui m’irrite chaque fois que tu lui prends la main! Ce que je ne veux pas que tu sache c’est que mon âme est débordée. Ce que je pretends avec persistance c’est qu’il n’y a rien dans mon cœur…

Mais c’est simplement hors de question que je fasse quoi que ce soit… j’agonise, je souffre, je me tords… tout en silence, tout en douceur… sans aucune mercie de ta part…

~Kim 64~

Eight at night; a very big-10-kg bag and a friend.

I just wanted to get home, tired and in a hurry to be in my own home.

So my friend and I were walking in the streets of Beirut to catch a service, this service driver see us and stops so we got into the car with him. Since I was carrying my big-10-kg bag, and out of politeness, I sat next to the driver so I wont take much space in case he finds another customer. Shortly after, the driver asks us:

- Where are u going after dawra?

- Jounieh

So he offered to take us there if we pay an additional service, we agreed thinking it was out of good will. I always get confused feeling towards service drivers when they are polite, or good, it’s either they want something from you, which is very disgusting, or it’s a Miracle.

He drove and then a guy wanted to go to Sabtiye so the driver agreed knowing that it is not really on his way to Jounieh or Dawra but we didn’t say anything, we thought he just want to make a living. And then the guy started to try opening a conversation with me, I replied at first a very short and serious answer. Then, he started joking around trying to look funny, that’s when he got a frown, and another and another, and he ended up asking me where are we going, camping, since I am carrying a big bag. Again I didn’t answer, but did he even get the sign? No. I think that most of the time, such people’s ego doesn’t allow them to get that fuck-off-and-just-drope-home sign. He kept trying to talk to me but my friend and I were both ignoring him, as well as the old man who was in the backseat, and then when we got to Sabtiye, my friend asked me to come sit next to her and it was what I was thinking of. When I stepped out of the front seat, the old man looked at me and said “ l na2le fiya faraj” which means that even the old guy understood how uncomfortable I was by the constant attempts the driver to hit on


me.

Meanwhile and in all the naivety in the world, I felt a bit of guilt thinking that maybe the guy was just bored and wanted to start a conversation, or maybe he was just trying to be friendly, but that wasn’t really the case and as soon as we got to Dawra the guy stopped the car and he was like:

- I’d like to apologize from you girls I can’t drive you to Jounieh anymore.

Can It Get More Obvious?! Can u believe the asshole?

It’s the first something like this happens to me. Usually men give it a try but still know their limits and drive you

to where promised. But not this asshole.We paid him and got out of the car with all the shock in the world.

My friend said that it’s not the firs

t time it happens, and it have happened to her before. And we thought that I could have just pretended the Lebanese way nothing was happening and stayed in the front seat. But not with this feminist not in this world!

Later on that night, I had to take another service because my house is far from where the bus drops me,

and for my surprise



the only car available was driven by a woman. You cannot imagine how extremely safe I felt, and comfortable. And you cannot imagine, in ten minutes, how many cars pressed there horns and tried to pass just because it’s a service driven by woman. I think after all the bullshit with the hairy taxi driver this woman made my night.

How can you not believe
A soul you created
A spirit you gave birth to
Throw me in a river and say goodbye
There is nothing for me to add
More than that; I can’t stand
I gave you chances
I gave you excuses
I am fed up
From your accusations
How can you break the heart
Of a being you created
How can you leave behind
A child that needed you the most
And I am heartbroken
To see the tears in my eyes
Because of you
They say that without you I’m nothing
And how many times I believed so
But it’s time to let go
All the past shall be forgotten
And the future should be built
With you out of my life
And it’s time to erase you
From the beautiful picture I have drawn
Though I know deep inside
That it is hard enough
And it’ll tear me apart
But I have done my best
And you never even tried
To make it up to me like you have said
Throw me in a river and say goodbye!
Throw me … And say goodbye!
Goodbye!

~By L.A.~

Dear diaries;

What have happened to the world? Or what have become of that world.
You are one piercing away of becoming a bitch, drug dealer and alcoholic, typical stereotyping which is totally wrong. You are one size away of running out of choices while shopping; tops and pants keep stretching into a smaller size than my baby niece can wear, Seriously, and I am not complaining because I am a fat woman, I’ve always been, but now am complaining because it’s so degrading for women, now they have to be anorexic to shop!
Wear your bra before you get out of the house, sit like ladies, don’t stretch your legs too wide, don’t smoke it’s not lady like! Excuse me Sir?
Last time I had a very interesting debate with a guy who asked me, what if a guy liked you – well he lost me at that part- and asked you to remove your piercing so he would go out with you. Now beside the fact that I was wearing my very big obvious feminine sign that I guess he didn’t see, I was bleeding heat from the top of my brains after his question. I mean please would people please stop propatizing… stop propertizing (it’s supposed to be something like using as a property, but is that even a word?). I mean we cook and raise babies, we drive, we work, we pay our own bills, what else do we, as woman, have to show to prove we are not men’s property anymore.

Dear diaries;

People drive in cars like crazy, gay people get bashed everyday, you tell your mother that your queer, and the second day you wake up she asks you when are you having a boyfriend and then grandchildren……
Id’ like to live in a accepting world you see, but then again stereotyping is everywhere, discrimination is everywhere, tonight, I am disgusted of the world.

Dear diaries;

What have happened to the world.
People… I used to believe in people, Not anymore.

It’s funny when you find that special someone,

Someone that makes you feel

absolute

Someone that always seems to make you forget the world around you,

Someone that makes everything in your life finally make sense.



I carry her with me in my heart
She is everywhere I go, everything I see

All was perfect
Our love, our relationship, was inaccessible
Like a fairytale she managed to sweep me off my feet in an instant
With her eyes, she conquers me
One touch is all it took to make me plead for more
With a kiss I melt
However, with this love came blindness
Blindness off everything around us, blindness of reality
Blindness that hid the fact that nothing can be perfect

Months of living in my own dream
Suddenly, with no warning everything fell apart
The disappointment dwelled within me
Our hopes and dreams crushed through an instant
Our differences overcame us
Difference in beliefs

It’s funny when you find that special someone,
A unique girl in whom you believe you can not live without
A precious star you can’t stop thinking about
It’s funny when you find that special someone you have been longing for, and yet unwittingly loose her in an instant.

~Liquid~

Touching the shore of Eve’s wild island
Is a ship whose horn quivers the landscape
The midday sun sends the molten metal
Into the shallow depths of the sea
Waves are lapping rhythmically
As if to cool the crimson shore
Instead they build up constructively
Alas, the physics had some prophecy
The rise and fall is calling a forgotten storm
At first a whisper, and then a scream
A pulse propagates and flings the ship
Unto a peak, so violently it flattens
Trees into fields that stretch and fold
For miles and boundaries untold
Until a calm soft breeze takes over
From above, it sends the fire down below
To keep the Mother warm where there
Is but darkness to keep the ignorant blind
And the passionate safe

By Ava S.

Touching the shore of Eve’s wild island
Is a ship whose horn quivers the landscape
The midday sun sends the molten metal
Into the shallow depths of the sea
Waves are lapping rhythmically
As if to cool the crimson shore
Instead they build up constructively
Alas, the physics had some prophecy
The rise and fall is calling a forgotten storm
At first a whisper, and then a scream
A pulse propagates and flings the ship
Unto a peak, so violently it flattens
Trees into fields that stretch and fold
For miles and boundaries untold
Until a calm soft breeze takes over
From above, it sends the fire down below
To keep the Mother warm where there
Is but darkness to keep the ignorant blind
And the passionate safe © Sinsong


By Ava S.

Saba7o girls and boys w ya3tikon l 3afye,

After the outing of the issue 0 of our Magazine “Bekhsoos” titled: Bekhsoos l homophobia

And after the Internal and International admiration that this magazine has collected, it’s time for everyone to get their brains back to work and start preparing for the next issue.

Quoting the crazy Editor-in-Chief:

…so break in the articles. I already have quite a few, (many thanks to all those who’ve already submitted stuff), and it would be great if you could submit some before the 19th midnight. Anything post that deadline will not be accepted, sorry!
The theme of this issue is Pride. It would be preferable if your submissions (writing, artwork, anything that can be uploaded on www.bekhsoos.com) are Pride-oriented; not just the Pride Marches and/or Parades, but more like what the concept of Pride means to you. If you have nothing to say concerning Pride, but have another topic in mind, please, by all means, do not hesitate to share it.

So what you need to remember is:

Tell us about Pride
Submit your articles before the 19th
Write in any language you feel comfortable with (Arabic, French, English, German, Spanish, Armenian…); our team of translators will translate it, or we would cooperate with you on the translation
For the Meems that live abroad, in countries where the Pride Parade is organized, it would be nice if you tell us about it, if you’ve never participated in it, then it would be interesting if you tell us why. In brief, just tell us, we are curious and there are lots of other curious people out there.

So for submissions or further information please contact the Editor-in-Chief: Jenni on the following email: jenni@meemgroup.org. Or if you’re too shy then just contact me and I will take care of communicating with her.

So juice those pens and amaze us.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Salut tout le monde,J’ai l’honneur de vous invitez à contribuer dans une oeuvre magnifique. Cet oeuvre s’appelle Bekhsoos (avec double O et non OU, faites attention). Bekhsoos est le fruit de la collaboration de toutes les filles et les garcons de Meem. C’est une magazine sympa et tres cool (egalement avec double O et non OU). Le numéro 0 de Bekhsoos est déjà disponible si vous voulez le consulter.

Mais on n’a pas de temps à perdre, numéro prochain ne va pa tarder à paraitre et je veux voir votre contribution dans ce nouveau numéro. Le sujet général sera le Pride et je suis certaine que vous avez beaucoup à dire sur ce sujet.

Alors installer vous bien et écrivez, une fois terminé, il suffit de l’envoyer à Jenni (jenni@meemgroup.org) et que le spectacle commence. mais faites attention il faut l’envoyer avant le 19 Juillet pour que l’équipe puisse le publier. Alors… Yalla pas de temps à perdre

N.B.: si vous voulez consulter le numéro précédent visitez la page suivante: www.bekhsoos.com

Once again, my brain is functioning on the wrong side of common logic…

There’s a me that is the hardcore of moral values and would step on my heart not to cross a boundary. And there’s the other me that lost focus like a school girl smitten in a teenage crush!

There’s a me that wants to go back to the day before I met you and skip every second I spent with you. And there’s the other me that wants to stay around you, swallow the pride and enjoy those little sparkle butterflies that twirl in my stomach every time you throw a spontaneous look toward me.

There’s a me that believes if my life was a movie, I would be the “bad guy” that should be expelled to the island of green beasts and unforgivable sinners. And there’s the other me that believes if my life was really a movie you would see how much I want to give you and how much I’m longing to take off the load of pain I see in your eyes… And we would run off together to the island of make believe.

There’s a me that’s so petrified of my eager eyes telling on me and destroying my little image in your perspective. And there’s the other me that’s so petrified that you will never see me and I’ll just die one day soon without you knowing how I really see you.

There’s a me that’s wondering which wall I should bang my head into to wake myself up from these vibes of stupidity. And there’s the other me that’s wondering which wall I should draw your face on with a big “I like you” signature beneath it.

There’s a me that wishes to take the constant given advice from everyone around me and turn it into a “straight ticket to heaven” prayer. And there’s the other me that wishes God and all the heavenly angels are on my side just this time around!




I dedicate this to you and the other you knowing that I will never have either…

Don’t worry the first me wins every time but you will always be everything I want in a girl.

Jexy

Twisted thoughts and beautiful lies
No soothing faith for my rebel soul
Your smell travels a million miles
And passes through my 10 feet wall

I shut my eyes and dwell in dreams
To “think exist” you in my room
When everything within me yields
You’re almost real in this gloom

Blurry and warm…moving closer
Triggering a chill down my spine
The sun is coming up…it’s over!
Night…is the only time you’re mine…

Hope I get to catch the sun and keep it in a jar…very soon

~~~Jexy

What a smurf’s moment of Madness :

Paint it black, paint it white,
Paint it to represent our right,
Make it red, make it blue,
Make it remind me of you.

Butter skin, oh butter skin,
You are the greatest sin,
Melting eyes and pantyhose,
Makes us friends but makes us foes.

Flower dress you smell so pure,
Hooked on you there is no cure,
Poison to the skin and heart,
Addiction cautioned from the start.

Women, women everywhere,
Where oh where should I stare?
Legs or chest? I cannot decide,
Which one would be a smoother ride?

Rainbow color from head to toe,
I heart women, that I know,
In the end girls just rock,
Yea I’m gay, are you shocked?

Smurf

Today is a historical day to me for my mom gave me the sign to never tell her about my sexual orientation. It’s a day I will never forget So I was on a women’s beach with my family and there was this lifeguard (a female of course) who hit on me bluntly in front of everyone and particularly in front of my mom and aunts. She sounded like a lesbian to me but I took her as a nice lifeguard who is trying to make friends.
However, as my mother noticed the approaches of the girl, the way she started “ghannijing” me and getting closer to me, she and my aunt suddenly came to me and asked me to get out of the pool. And so I did with a questioning face! Here comes the weird and funny part; when I asked them why did you ask me to get out of the pool my mom answered with fear:

What if she is a lesbian, ya mama shakla lesbian hay!

I laughed on the inside but I tried asking questions to know why my mother got terrified of the lifeguard (a girl) hitting on me. So I asked:

Why would you be afraid of lesbians, mom? Inno do they bite?!

Her answer was:

Everything not normal is terrifying to me and I don’t want you to talk to her again or be next to her.

But this girl never stopped trying to talk to me. So my mother got even more terrified and confessed:

My heart beats so fast from fear every time she talks to you

And so I finally got the sign from my own mother showing how I should never tell her about her daughter being a lesbian, about the truth under my skin, about who I really am and about who I am proud of being. I felt the disappointment, the fear and the irony. I was disappointed because I never imagined people were afraid of lesbians, I mean what are they, terrorists?!?! I was disappointed because it came from my mom, the sign I’ve been waiting for, came out as a negative one. I always wanted to tell you, mom, but after today, I can never imagine telling you, maybe you would be scared of me. I felt scared too, because I kind of defended lesbians, and myself indirectly, while my mother was looking at me with these skeptical eyes of hers, so now I have to watch out for every step so she wouldn’t notice. What a shame it is to be hiding from who you really are and how shameful it feels not to be able to loudly defend women and myself in front of the woman who brought me to this world! The irony was that my mother never got scared when a guy talked to me, I mean if the lifeguard was a guy, would she react the same way? Are lesbians so abnormal in her eyes to the level of preferring a guy hitting on me instead of a girl? And she always refused for me to have a boyfriend (before I even discovered that I’m a lesbian). I hope my experience is a lesson for people to never out until their parents give them the positive safe sign. I wish my mother gave me the sign I’ve been waiting for since 3 years, but she left me highly and deeply disappointed.

Teddy

Imagining… you’re my imagination
throwing myself with no hesitation
into your deep brown pond
diving,using all my strength
shaping your fascination

Hard to keep in space
what drawn has my hands
following its utter pace
craving to reach your lands

Lap over lap
hands on the top
out of the blue
..rushed you
..to my crop

Scratching the freckles
of every thought of you
by screeching the pace
i know it’s untrue!

Thoughts and images
flashing again
but again i descend…
increasing my pain


My pain will never stop
unless my rush screeches out
but it’s brooding hypered
wishing that I can doubt.


…..to “M.C”