I’m ballroom down, the shoes’ that got me suede. When I do that feeling, no never get back. I ain’t take no shots, which used to got me high. What happened to that feeling? I wish it wouldn’t stop. We were ‘bout to be together, we were supposed to be together.

It’s in a love you need to show fast, plenty odds are running out of time. But ours on the borderwalk baby. Take me as I am or not, I can’t breath without you.

Without you, as mine.


my only reaction:

  • Q
  • Bang Yongguk


It’s alright… yeah

The tired moonlight looking up at the night sky, somewhere and somehow they look like they’re in hardship

Don’t escape it, because seeing you makes my heart hurt and frustrated, that’s why, so say something – it’s simple, baby
During the time everyone’s asleep, it’s the only time I can see you but if you’re not in the mood, then you don’t have to say it
Don’t cry right now as my song is the sound of the radio during the late night

Alright, even if I want to ask
I hide what I want to say within my red lips and make up lies again while having my mouth shut tight
I look up at the night sky with a comforted heart and swallow again and again and again
The night sky looks dejected and this image of you appears sad; the clothes beside you are crinkled
I want to ask who you seem to be longing for, why you’re crying silently, and why there’s no one beside you

Despite looking lonely, I can’t comfort you and when you sadly swallow that pill in your left hand
That’s when the lies pretend to not know anything and this is how I’ll comfort yourself

I don’t know what to say no more

It’s the Q, Q
It’s the Q, Q
Do you know


I’m going to take a moment here:

No one in my house understands why this image means so much to me. There are several reasons: the first and foremost is that I adore these men and am unbelievably happy that they finally have all the same legal rights my mother and each of her four husbands have had.

But there’s more to it than that.

It’s an image of two beautiful smiling men who have waited nearly twenty years to hold a piece of paper that recognises their love for one another as good enough.

It’s an image of two fairly well-known individuals who happen to be madly in love with each other;

Two healthy, successful, good-natured, kind, normal men who happen to be gay;

Two people committed to each other—through the good, the bad, the cat incident, the wall that wasn’t supposed to come down, the tarp that wouldn’t go away, through Penny and Tiger and Lewis, months apart for work, getting back as soon as they had to—who happen to both be men.

What I see when I look at this picture isn’t just John and Scott—it’s everything they (and any other gay couple) have poured into each other for 19 years without any of the recognition or rights they should have had granted to them as a couple who love each other, are committed to one another and want to be together.