Discover Top Posts Tagged with #lesbisan

"It's better to close your mouth, and look like a fool; than to open it, and remove all doubt.“ #lesbisan #lez #gaygirl #lebbe #gay #goodnight #godnat #me #mig #lezlove #lezbian #lezbianpride

#me #godnat #lebbe #gay #lesbisan #gaygirl #lezlove #lezbianpride #lezbian #mig #goodnight #lez

"Never be afraid to LOVE. Never be afraid to follow your DREAM.“ Goodnight and sleep tight 😜✌️🏾😴 #latina #goodnight #godnat #night #gay #lebbe #gaygirl #lez #lesbisan

#godnat #lebbe #gay #lesbisan #gaygirl #goodnight #latina #night #lez

The story of a man who never interacts with his wife of 30 years living under the same roof

I tell this story not because I advocate any moral or religious stance regarding marriage definition. I don’t encourage you to take this as a base to justify your advocacy and moral judgement for and against some people. Surely I don’t encourage you to take one story to make generalization to some people’s political interests or dis-interests; as well as to the whole GLBS population and other family arrangements. But we have to acknowledge that in a complex modern society, the family arrangements are more dynamic and complex than we used to conceptualize.

I pick this story because the way the story was reported shows me even in a conservative culture that traditionally doesn’t discuss sex explicitly at family, community and societal levels, there is a new sign that such stories can be reported and told in a more human empathetic way which portrays the life of a man whose life journey is different from ‘the majority’ set views.

For a media story that was told, it was quite a new fresh light breeze inside a suffocated room of the so called ‘majority’ presumed ways of seeing things. If you think it is just a new rare breeze in the East, may be it is the time we need to think about what can be that new breeze of perceptions may also mean in other parts of the worlds.

His name is Qu Bi Zhi ( 曲筆值), 72, a man who hid his sexual orientation for 60 years. He live with his wife (a woman) inside different rooms for 30 years. Yet apart from sharing the same pot of salt for cooking, they have no common ownership and sharing of anything. Sometimes they don’t even talk to each other for more than once over a year. They are two married people living separately under different kinds of ‘marriage’ lives.

Here is how the media describes his handsome look for a 72 old man:

“ The first ray of sun shines inside his 10 or so square meters room through the windows and the anti-bulgarly screens. Qu takes out a tiny mirror, he stares into the reflection. He combs his hair thoroughly from left to right. He massages his cheeks with shaving cream. Picking up the black shaving knife, he carefully and tenderly shaved his cheeks and jaws clean. In his time-eroded face, we can see the scrupulous facial contours. He looks like Tony Leung in his movie of Days of Being Wild.” Qu is not shy about his good looking face. “ A lot of people are fond of me”. He said in a flighty tone. He closes his eyes like a cat’s slit pupils. He smiles as he slightly twists his head to one side and gently poke his face with a finger.

His parents died when he was very very young. He lived a solidarity life since then, all by himself. “I almost never have any concept about family.” When he was around 10, his fellow boys classmates gathered to talk about girls: which one was pretty and who was cute. He had no interested moods to go with these girls’ comments. He was more cutter than any girl when he was flighty. He could not imitate man’s muscular attributes. He discovered he was more interested to look at handsome men who possessed sunshine muscularity characters and looks. “ I longed to contact them and to get close to them”.

He knew there was a park where gay men gathered at night. People called these parks “fishes” places. He had lots of fancy imaginations about these ‘fishes” places. When he was 13 or 14, he would slipped out of home quietly heading toward this park. His heart filled with excitements and expectations. It costed him 10 cents for the entrance fee.

Near the entrance of the park, men gathered in groups of 2-3, deliberately avoiding the lamp poles. Men talked to each other softly, intimately in many subtle smiles flickering through their eyes. Under the dim light, Qu started to feel there were streams of warm currents flowing through his body. The sensations were ambiguous and obliqueness to him. At his age, he was still a young boy in the eyes of adult men. He sat quietly on the stone benches, he starred and looked in details of men passing by him: their figures, their faces and their eyes. When there was man matching his tastes walked pass, he would take up all his courage to start the dialogues. Ever since that time, it became his regular thing to do after dinner.

After several visits, he became more bold. “ Whenever I saw another guy looked into my eyes with the right chemistry, I would take the initiative to sit beside him. I didn’t feel shy nor nervous. Sometimes I would lean my head at the other party’s shoulder.” Qu was attracted to those mature, good looking beard men. He was fond of talking to them.

“My only time of being felt loved was from a man who had gone to Macau. It was 50 years ago.” Qu cannot remember the name of that man anymore. He was 16. He was strolling leisurely inside a shopping mall as he ‘eye shopping’ clothes. Suddenly there was a tall, handsome man came out from the fitting room. A man who was around 30s. Qu was deeply attracted by the beautiful straight and high noise contour of this person. Qu tailed after the man. To his surprise, the guy lived very close to his home. As they turned into the same avenue, the man turned around to look at him. The encountering of their eyes sparked the ‘right’ chemistry. They had ‘feels’ with each other instantly and both grinned like sunshine blossoms on their faces.

After their first encountering, Qu discovered he frequently wandering near the man’s home, just hoping to see him again. The man had already firmly planted his place inside Qu’s heart. Qu finally saw the man again when the latter suggested they went out together. Qu followed without any hesitation. As they became closely familiar with each other, they would always go out together. The man brought him nice and lovely candies, told him stories, talked about ways of lives. The adolescent Qu was deeply interested in these talks.

After nearly one year of their hanging outs, one night the man told Qu he was moving to Macau. That night was their last night. Qu could not stop tearing. They hang around until 11pm, but yet seemed to him their talks could never end. They snuggled toward each other, the man took off his jacket covering Qu from the chilly night breeze over the river. Qu slowly lean his head on the arm of his lover as he closed his eyes slowly. Ever since his lover’s departure, Qu continued to wander around different parks-different ‘fishes’ places. Yet he could not get the same deep attachment to other guys as he had with his lover. When there was no other ways for him to channel his memories and deep missing of his lover, Qu would sing love songs at late nights. He would sing until his face was fully covered with streams and streams of tears; until he finally broke out to non-stoppable crying.

1984, Qu was 41. He had no intention to marry but out of his friends’ urging he met a woman at one of those arranged meetings and dating social functions. The woman was 29. He had no feeling for this woman at all but the social culture and societal norms at that time was different. A man at his age still hadn’t married and not even having any normal close relationship with a woman was seen as abnormal. To go along with the currents, he married this woman. “I just biting my teeth tightly to live my life through.”

In their first wed night, they didn’t even touch each other, not per se had any sex. The woman wanted divorce 3 months later. Qu was more happier than ever. They forgot it was the New Year’s Day and both of them needed to work the next day. Neither of them talked about divorce for some time. When the woman raised the issue again, she asked Qu to provide her a permanent house under her name as a term of divorce. Qu could not afford another house. They resorted to a separate life inside the house (Qu’s place). As a ‘husband’, Qu offers his only ‘support’ her by paying the utilities bills. They both live on the State’s pensions after they retired. They almost never have a meal together in 30 years’ time. When they come across each other in the house, they turn their heads away, walk pass each other without saying a word.

Qu’s wardrobe is full of different kinds of bright, shining, colorful and fashionable clothes. These were his ‘warrior’ customs. Qu told of his peak fittest era, same in the 1980s-the true colorful era of his life. In that era gay people all had different naked names according to their body figures. Slim people were ‘spare ribs’ while meatly people were ‘pork bellies’. Qu has slim body frame, so he laughed at himself as ‘spare ribs’. There were many new bars at the Pearl River road where gay people gathered. It was expensive to hang out at these bars. It was several 10s of bugs-not a small sum in 80s. Qu still went there a few times because he loved dancing. He was good at it.

“I wore colorful tops, tight pants, shining all over. Soon I attracted the attention of the whole bar. I knelt down, stretching out my left foot to draw a big circle. All these gestures were smooth and integrated. Then I stretching out both feet, 180 degrees straight line, lowering my waist, and them held one of my foot up straight. None of these dancing gestures were difficult for me at all. I heard loud applause of clapping hands. I was so confident when I wore those beautiful clothes.” “ I walked like a model cat-walking on the streets. When people stared at me with odd looks as they saw my bottoms swayed in rhythms covered under my tight pants as womanized, I just returned blank eyes to them. I was so young. I shy of nothing.”

Qu said that his acute sense of loving pretty people and clothes was inherited from his mother. In 1930s, women were generally very conservative.” (Women wore “Cheung Sam” or “Qi Pao” with high collars-three buttons covering the whole neck and lengths of the gown down to the angles’. Only few percentage of very rich and aristocratic people women at the societal top ladder wore Western dresses-which were also covering from neck to toes.) “My mother was different. She loved to wear mini-skirts and high heel shoes. She passed this to me.” (His mother would stand out of the crowd in 1930s, even in the Western societies, for wearing mini-skirts walking around the streets as her ‘daily’ clothes, I guess.)

Back in 2015, Qu is no longer young. He does not wear the colorful tops and tight shining pants anymore. Yet he insists to maintain stylish in more subtle looks: brown short sleeves polo shirts, black pants and sun glasses. He still wandering at those ‘fishes’ places. He still enjoys looking at good looking men. He has no more sex desires but he enjoys seeing these pretty handsome guys walking pass. When people look at him, he will still greet them with his eyes, if the chemistry is right, they will start little chats from “where you come from” to some very “intimate private” matters.

In his sunset era, Qu is still alone. He starts to plan for ‘the day’ that eventually comes. Now he has a friend- a relative stable form of companionship and friendship. His friend is Simon (fictitious name). Simon is around 40. He is married. He has a daughter. He came across Simon in one of those ‘right chemistry’ eye catching moments at one of the parks at Foshan. “I don’t need people to take care of me when I am alive, but I need people to take care of my funeral when I am dead.”

Simon rings Qu everyday. They meet each other once a month. “Simon is a trustworthy and reliable person. I can trust everything to him. I know all his families. They may not know our exact relationship. His family regards me as an uncle.” “Simon’s family are the only people who will invite me to their home during festivals. Simon is my only visitor. Sometimes he brings me some little gifts or daily needed stuffs. Small but heart warming.”

In return for Simon’s care, Qu gave him a new TV (10,000 Yuan) and a new fridge (nearly 10,000 Yuan) when Simon moved home. As the media reporters were at Qu’s place, the telephone rang: “Hello, Simon. I had finished my meal. What about you?.....” It was about 9pm. Qu had finished dinner, he had watched his favorite HK TV series “Love going home”. It is a TV series about a family. As Qu watched, listened and followed the ending theme song, he cried and laughed. It seems like the stories of this Ma family in the TV program were his own family stories.

After these routine daily evening rituals, Qu put off his glasses. He climbs into his blankets. He falls into sleep in another quiet night.

A quiet lonely night for a lonely man living through quiet eras.

Source of reference: this story was orally told by Qu during a sharing meeting organized by the Homosexual’s Friends and Relatives Association, Chinese University of HK and South China Normal University Caring Group for Elderly Gay People in Guangzhou. Republished by Singtao Weekly Magazine.

p.s.-Talking about the obliqueness Qu felt, I wonder if he is aware that his names really foretold his life? His surname Qu- the word Qu means bent, not straight. In Chinese, “not being straight” is a nick name for the Gays. Bi Zhi-on the contrary means very straightly straight. Straight is the opposite nick name for heterosexuals. The combination of his full name means a person who is both “straight” and “not straight”.

#family #gay #lesbisan #relationship #marriage

If I ever meet someone who says that he wants to punch feminists I’ll remind him about Ellen Page and show him a picture of her adorableness and his wanting to punch her will colide with his wanting to cuddle her and he’ll become so confused and his head will explode and another problem will be solved. I should also try doing this with anuses who are violent towards gay people.

#ellen page #support #this should be done #lesbisan #gay #feminism