I bought a few�DVDs from my recent trip to Ho Chi Minh. Before I continue, I know I should be ashamed. Coming from the media industry�I should not be�supporting the pirates by buying DVDs that has violated copyright law.

Anyway, I must say quality of such DVDs are better in China than those from Ho Chi Minh city. Out of the six I bought, four are faulty. This is versus one out of twenty from those bought in China. Well, there aren’t many shops selling DVDs in Ho Chi Minh in the first place. I was talking about it with one fellow traveller I met while I was there. I said there are not�as many media�piracy in Ho Chi Minh as I thought there would be. She said no way! Didn’t I see�the pirated books and paintings?! Oh yes, she jolted my memory of the imitation Monet I saw in many of the art shops selling paintings. I must say most of those are of high quality reproduction -�the Vietnamese make great artists.

So, coming back to my main point, I just caught�”Jasmine Women” the other day.�The last ten minutes of the film had no audio. Nevertheless, I understood the whole movie. It is separated into three stories, where the daughter in each story repeats the mistake of her mother. No, Joan Chen and Zhang Ziyi did not�look like a lesbian couple despite them filling most of the scenes. As usual, Zhang was fabulous with her usual�outing as a nubile young play thing for licentious men. But what really hit me when I was watching the movie was,�Joan Chen does not seem to need to work to support her daughter. Well, she owns a photo studio but I did not see any photographers. What’s more, the photo studio gets passed on to the next two generations and no one seemed to need to work for a living at all!

Sometimes I do wish I can be absorbed into the movies. Life seems more interesting and work is usually minimal. I guess I am more conscious of it lately because of the heavy workload in my office.

Truth is, I am more interested to be doing my own work as opposed to my office work now. I am addicted to writing screenplays�after completing my first feature length script not too long ago. I am on to writing a Singapore style “Brokeback Mountain” for the fun of it. It is not exactly “Brokeback”, I guess I will explain it better when it is finished. Anyway I am not terribly original to begin with.

I wondered if a gay film will ever get enough funding to be made in Singapore. Of course that is discounting “Be With Me” since there is hardly any depth to the relationship between the two girls. I suppose if SQ 21 is getting a review in Life on Sunday Times, perhaps one day, Singapore�gay film will actually make it to the big screeens here.

But, when?

Today is the first day of me reading your blog. I feel somewhat connected to it, as though it were the story of my life, past, present and future. Everyday I wake up and I am faced with the prospect of living in a close minded society. I live in Malaysia and it being a Muslim country, there are a lot of restrictions and people are narrow minded when it comes to GLBT right. Our mere presence in this society is a burden to them for they see us as parasites, leeches. We bring shame to the community.

However, what they fail to see, I think, is that we are also human. We live and breathe the same air and we need and want the same things. Though we may never have equal rights as those of the straight, we dream of a day when we can hold our partners’ hand in public without glares and sneers from people around us. I have lived my life bending to societal views of me and my kind of people. I have never thought of confronting them about these issues as I find it pointless.

I was previously in a relationship with a closet lesbian. She confided that she indeed loved women however, she was afraid of how people would look at her. I was often ‘left out’ when it came to meeting friends. I was bleeped out as though I didn’t matter and it hurt.

I guess when society does it, you figure that it is society’s blindness and ignorance that makes them behave the way they do. But when your own partner shows you such disdain, such want to hide you and not even regard you enough as a friend to be introduced to her friends, you feel hurt. You feel betrayed. Suffice to say, the relationship didn’t work out. I tried being in the shadows, where she’d rather me be but I found that it was difficult to not be recognised by my own partner.

Recently, I met a girl. She is someone whom I’ve known for a long time but only now, do I have romantic feelings for her. It is amazing how in the short span of a month, she has shown me just what love really is. She is open about her feelings and isn’t ashamed of me. She introduces me to her close friends as her gf and they accept me for that. These are her straight friends, mind you. She has even mentioned to her sister that she has a gf. That meant a lot to me. It showed me that she was not only proud to have me as her gf but that she was proud of ‘us’. She wasn’t ashamed of being a lesbian and neither was she ashamed of being in love.

Me… I’ve found coming out easy. I told my best friend first and her reaction was pure joy. She did not discrimate. She loved me more, in fact. When people ask me if I’m straight, I reply that I do like boys but I now have a gf whom I love very much. Those that judge me, I ignore. Those that are happy for me, I feel happy for them.

To my friends who’ve loved me and accepted me for all that I am, I love you guys. I do. There is nothing more I could ask from you. You have given me love and support even in times when I’ve not asked for it. To my baby. Happy 2 months anniversary. I want you. I need you. Thank you for being the wonderful person that you are.

This is a piece of guestwriting by ilashes.
I was what, nine? You would have been hardly older. You were the new girl, the kid who transferred from another school. The maroon skirt had not itself accustomed itself to you. You were tugging on the white shirt, tucked in as per regulations. You looked up, with a brilliant smile on your face.

I would never forget that smile. Even after all these years, that smile remains the one thing I remember the most about you. You never frowned, you never got angry or sad. Always happy, always smiling.

I took you by your hand, showed you around the school. I was so eager to befriend you, knowing how lost you were in this strange world. I treasured every moment with you.

It was the giddy scent of your skin, the wonderfully smooth porcelain complexion. It was every word I had with you. It was your rosy cheeks, your bright, beautiful eyes.

One day, I found myself writing a letter to you, expressing how much I valued our relationship. I do not know what possessed me to write it. But I wanted to do something special, give you something indicative of how much you meant to me.

I put down my pen, and stared at the letter, written in blood-red ink. I did not know why I was writing this. I did not know why I felt like this. I could not have known, not at the tender age of nine. The words on the paper stared back at me – I crumpled it up and tossed it into the dustbin.

Maybe you sensed it... maybe you realized all wasn't right with the way I adored you. Maybe our paths simply diverged. Maybe I distanced myself from you, confused I was by my feelings.

A few days later, you passed me by, with nary a glance in my direction. Watching you walk past with another girl that was just too much. Poison dripped from my tongue, surprising my acquaintance with my antagonism towards you. Her questioning glance made me look away, half-guiltily. How could I explain why I was hurt? I didn't even understand it myself.

I understand fully, now, of course. Every emotion, every childish crushing feeling. I only understood that anger after I fell in love again, with another girl, forcing me to face myself after years of denial.

I still remember your face, you know. I've forgotten the faces of every other playmate I've had at that age. But I remember every single thing about you, down to the distinctive scent of your skin.

It doesn't matter you were never mine. But I thank you, my first love, for opening my eyes to this world. Thank you for making me realize who I am.

As I explained many things to her, I debunked a lot of myths and stereotypes about the LGBT community along the way. To me, coming out is much more than telling people that I am gay. It also means an obligation on my part to educate people around me, to pave the way for better understanding of the LGBT community in society. Furthermore, the most important significance is to let people whom I care for, to understand me for who I am.

I complained to my friend that there is still a lot of negative social stigma associated with gays and lesbians. She replied, 'Actually the situation now is considered good. If you told people that you are gay, like 10 or 20 years ago, people would just immediately conclude that you have AIDS.'

It is so true, and it dawned upon me how far we have come and how much our brave predecessors have achieved. Suddenly I felt so blessed being able to acknowledge to myself that I am gay, and tell people that I am gay without fearing persecution. However, the future journey is arduous, and far from complete. It is really up to us, to take more steps forward.

I am beginning to see that the most powerful form of activism is actually coming out. It is more powerful than gay pride parades, blogs, talks and forums, petitions and any other form of activism. It changes people's misconceptions and mindsets fundamentally, because they know me as a real person, and I am exactly the same person before and after they found out that I am gay. Nothing has changed, and being gay is only a part of my overall identity. My sexual orientation is not a fashion statement which I feel compelled to wear on my sleeve, but rather a part of myself which I prefer not to hide consciously, if the circumstances permit.

Only when queer people are not merely names in the afternoon/ evening tabloids, but family and friends of every one of us in the society, then we can remove the negative social stigma. I can see it happening right beside me. I have friends who used to have negative perceptions of homosexual people but they are becoming more open-minded and accepting. I have guy friends who know that lesbians are not just butches and femmes and understand that lesbians are not waiting for the right men. I have lady friends who have no qualm about joking with me that they will love to marry me despite being well-aware of my sexual orientation. I love the way how it manifests to become a deep-rooted understanding, instead of superficial acceptance while sweeping everything under the carpet in denial.

I feel stronger and less vulnerable every time I come out to another person, and I do hope that I will be strong enough one day to take the step in my family. I will be invincible once I achieve that.