Bi Girl Quotes

You're Pippa Fricking Fitz-Amo-bi. My little Sarge. Pippus Maximus, and there's nothing you can't do.

If I was gay, I wouldn't need an asterisk beside my name. I could stop worrying if the girl I like will bounce when she finds out I also like dick. I could have a coming-out party without people thinking I just want attention. I wouldn't have to explain that I fall in love with minds, not genders or body parts. People wouldn't say I'm 'just a slut' or 'faking it' or 'undecided' or 'confused.' I'm not confused. I don't categorize people by who I'm allowed to like and who I'm allowed to love. Love doesn't fit into boxes like that. It's blurry, slippery, quantum. It's only limited by our perceptions and before we slap a label on it and cram it into some category, everything is possible.

The first rule of Bi Club is that you can talk about Bi Club all you want, because most people won't believe it's real anyway.

Because that's why bi girls exist, Garrett. For your masturbatory fantasies.

Like boys all you want, Park. It still won't fix this. I'm bi and I promise you, it's not a fucking light switch. You can't just set it on 'boy' because it's inconvenient that you like a girl right now.

I’ve seen trans people in movies and TV shows, but judging by how unrealistic and shitty bi characters tend to be, I’m gonna assume I know nothing. So what’s okay for me to ask?

How do I know it’s not a fluke? What if I only ever fall for one girl?” “Then you’re bi.” She pats my arm. “What if I’m talking myself into it?” “Not a thing—” “Okay, but what if the girl I like is kind of—I don’t know—boyish?” “Is she a boy?” Edith asks. “No.” “Sounds pretty bi.

Just 'cause I'm bi doesn't mean I have magic powers. I'm not the plucky queer sidekick in your romantic comedy.

Image of a girl holding a blaster to a twin’s temple. “Remember, bi***. You can’t spell ‘danger’ without DNA.” Blam.

If indeed all lives mattered, we would not need to emphatically proclaim that "Black Lives Matter." Or, as we discover on the BLM website: Black Women Matter, Black Girls Matter, Black Gay Lives Matter, Black Bi Lives Matter, Black Boys Matter, Black Queer Lives Matter, Black Men Matter, Black Lesbians Matter, Black Trans Lives Matter, Black Immigrants Matter, Black Incarcerated Lives Matter. Black Differently Abled Lives Matter. Yes, Black Lives Matter, Latino/Asian American/Native American/Muslim/Poor and Working-Class White Peoples Lives matter. There are many more specific instances we would have to nane before we can ethically and comfortably claim that All Lives Matter.

All the cutest girls are bi, didn’t you get the memo?

The message I've gotten about guys who like guys and girls is that we're faking, that we couldn't possibly be attracted to girls if we're attracted to boys. Bi girls get the same thing, but for them it means they're perceived as straight and for us it means we're perceived as gay.

Just because you're into Kate...well, it doesn't necessarily mean you're gay. Although it's okay if you are. But if that's what's worrying you...' Ariel sighed. 'God. It shouldn't be so hard to talk about this stuff. All I'm saying is maybe you're gay and maybe you're not. Maybe you're bi. Or maybe it's totally a Kate thing. Maybe you'd want to be with her whether she was a girl or a boy.' I blinked. I didn't know if what she said made things better or worse.

Zamisli, George, kad bi postojala neka ruka za koju možeš da se uhvatiš i kad pređeš s one strane! Ali ne verujem da postoji ona strana. U to sam skoro potpuno ubeđen. Sve što postoji, traje samo do svoga kraja. Ali neka ruka je obično poslednje što čovek drži.

Me. The geek girl from the suburbs of Melbourne. The youngest daughter of Chinese immigrants. The only openly bi kid at school. The drama freak who makes vlogs in her bedroom. I'm the hero.

Everyone knew that girls who admitted to liking girls stopped being whatever they were before and became a cross between a lumberjack and a punk-goth-anarchist. - Adena Galinksy, USA (p. 38)

Last year I told Lori I thought I might be bi. Ever since, whenever she saw me looking at another girl, she asked if I liked her. Lori didn't get that sometimes it was fun just to notice people without having to think about whether you liked them or not.

I guess Diana would be surprised that the one dressed in frills turned out to be the one skipping down the rainbow path toward bisexual city

We ate, did our homework, got good grades, kissed our parents goodnight and always had the secret door and shared experiences to go to. It was truly remarkable, and doing it as a group made us feel invulnerable. As soon as the drums and amps were set up and Jean and Kathie hit it, I tell you there was nothing more to say. Conversation stopped, and the magic carpet ride took off. I’ve never felt anything more powerful in my life.

Because falling in love with a girl who feared nothing in this world had left her ready to love a boy whose heart had been broken before she ever touched him.

If being bi means always knowing, well, that isn't me. The only girls on my bedroom walls are my friends, and I'm certainly not into any of them that way. That settles it. I'm straight. Just like I always thought. I wait for the feeling of a weight lifting from my shoulders, but it never comes.

Često me svladaju živci, osobito nedjeljom, osjećam se užasno jadno. Atmosfera u kući je tada posebno teška, uspavljujuća poput olova. Vani se ne čuje ni jedna ptica, posvuda lebdi teška, mrtvačka tišina. Ta tišina obavija se oko svakog djelića moga tijela kao da me želi povući duboko u podzemlje. U takvim trenutcima mama, tata i Margot ostavljaju me na miru. Lutam od jedne sobe do druge, penjem se i spuštam stepenicama. Osjećam se poput ptice pjevice kojoj su potrgali krila te u potpunom mraku letu oko rešetki svog kaveza. U meni neki glas viče: "Izađi, smij se i udahni svježi zrak!" Više ni ne odgovaram, odlazim, liježem na kauč i spavam kako bi vrijeme brže prošlo. Tišina i strašni strah jer nema drugog načina da brže prođe. Tvoja Anna, petak, 29. rujna 1943.

Oh, Chuck,” he says again, his voice this low purr. “I was seriously starting to question myself again, but … you're so goddamn beautiful. At this point, I don't care if I'm gay or bi or just a confused straight asshole, but … I want you.

Well, three reasons. First, because I've been thinking about our Theorem and I have a question. How does it work if you're gay?" "Huh?" "Well it's all graph-going up means boy dumps girls and graph going-down means girl dumps boy, right? But what if they're both boys?" "It doesn't matter. You just assign a position to each person. Instead of being 'b' and 'g', it could just as easily be 'b1' and 'g', it could just as easily be 'bi' and 'b2.' That's how algebra works.

Kadar človek ljubi, je ljubezen prevelika, da bi jo mogel obdržati vso v sebi samem; tedaj ljubezen izžareva proti ljubljenemu bitju, naleti v njem na ploskev, ki jo prestreže in odbije proti izhodišču, in ta odboj lastnih čustev imamo za ljubezen onega drugega bitja ter smo od nje vsi očarani, saj ne spoznamo, da izvira iz nas.

I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve betrayed her somehow, by dating a boy. It doesn’t make any sense, especially for me—gender is truly not the thing that makes me attracted to someone. Silvie knows that. But this girl vs. boy thing is complicated. The image thing is complicated. And okay, maybe I still feel the need to justify it to myself too. I always assumed I’d just date women. Like, forever. It’s what I know, and I know I like it, and I’m so entrenched in the queer community already … I’ve always been totally okay with boys being nothing more than a possibility.

Roxy was bi, and in my opinion she was—and still is—a total badass. Of all my childhood friends, this girl’s my bestie. Even when we were young, I knew deep down that Roxy was going to conquer the world. Her brilliance, coupled with her unwavering commitment to feminism and human rights, made her truly exceptional. And she cared, really cared, about animals and the pressing issues in our world. She wasn’t just one of these people that wore shirts and posted awareness videos online. She dedicated her weekends to protests and taking action. And I loved that she was hooking up with Amren, or whoever this girl was, if she made Roxy happy. I loved her. I loved all of her. Hopefully Amren would see how awesome Roxy was and make her feel special.

Yeah, Jules!" Chelsea said in a voice thick with envy. "Go away, you're making the rest of us look bad." She winked at Jule's date wickedly. "I bet you just want to eat her up, don't ya?" He stared at Chelsea with bewilderment and glanced back at Jules for help. "Just ignore her," Jules explained over the noise from the sound system. "She doesn't get out much." Chelsea tried to look hurt by Jule's words, but she couldn't quite pull it off. "I'm just sayin', Jules, he'd better watch his back tonight, or I might be trying to take you away from him." Chelsea loved to play the potentially bi-curious card, even though everyone knew she liked boys far too much to go to bat for the other team. "Gross!" cried Claire, who wasn't pretending at all. Claire hated it when the conversation deviated too far off her straight and narrow path. The operative word being straight. "Don't worry, Claire-bear," Chelsea soothed condescendingly. "I'm not going to hook up with Jules." She wrapped her arm around Claire's waist and then said suggestively in he ear, "I'm much more likely to make a move on you." "Eww!" Claire shrieked, shoving Chelsea away. "Get away from me!" "Leave her alone, Chels," Jules interrupted. "Or you're gonna make her start her 'It's Adam and Eve not Adam and Steve' speech. And sorry, Claire, but none of us really want to hear that." Jay pulled Violet close to him as they listened to the familiar, playful bantering. He slid his arm around her waist from behind, and let his lips gently tease her earlobe while no one was paying attention to the two of them. Violet wanted to turn around right there, in his arms, and forget this whole dance thing altogether. "Hey!" Chelsea's voice interrupted them, and Violet jumped a little, realizing that everyone was staring at them. "Did you hear me?" Violet leaned forward on her crutches and away from Jay, still feeling bemused by the close and intimate contact. "What?" she asked, trying to focus on what had been said. "I said, 'I gotta pee.' Let's go to the bathroom," Chelsea repeated as if Violet were some sort of imbecile, incapable of understanding normal human speech. "Keep it up, Chels, and none of us is gonna want to hook up with you tonight," Violet promised jokingly. Chelsea grinned at Violet. "I like the way you think, Violet Ambrose. Maybe you'll be the lucky girl I choose.' And then she turned to Jay. "Don't worry, I've got her from here," Chelsea announced. Jules and Claire followed. Violet laughed and glanced back at him. "I'll only be a few." Jay gave her a skeptical look that no one else would have even noticed, as he assessed the three girls who would be escorting Violet. And then he finally nodded. "Okay, I'm gonna show these guys my car." He was beaming again. "I'll be right outside, but I won't be long." Violet did her best to keep up with the trio ahead of her, but it was hard on one high heel and two crutches. Finally she yelled at them exasperatedly, "If you guys don't wait, I'm not going!" They all three stopped and turned around. Chelsea tapped her lovely silver shoe impatiently. "Hurry up, Violet, or I swear I'll take you off my list.

Aunt Maxie giggled. ‘What can he be thinking about so hard?’ ‘Best not to know,’ his mother said. She tsked. ‘One day that boy’ll go too far.’ ‘Something serious. Look at him. He can’t even hear us talking about him. What can it be?’ ‘Complex numbers,’ Garvie said, without taking his eyes off the table. ‘Oh.’ With a suspicious glance at her son, Garvie’s mother asked Aunt Maxie about the new locl convenience store, and they settled into a conversation about the scandalous rising prices of food. Garvie carried on thinking. a + bi, where i has the property i squared = -1. The product of a real number and an imaginary number. You don’t compute complex numbers, you rotate them. You move them into an imaginary dimension and the answer is an unexpected jolt from the blue. ‘Garvie? Garvie?’ He looked up at his aunt. ‘Alex is lying,’ he said.

Throughout high school, Ben strove to be as colorless as his room. He chose to blend in with the crowd, a popular white-bread crewneck group, with parents who summered in Nantucket and owned ski houses near mountains in Vermont. One Saturday night after returning from a movie with the happy-go-lucky girl he’d been seeing on and off, he told Harvey and me, in the family room reading newspapers, that he was going to come out in college. Neither of us was astonished, or even surprised. It was a relief to both of us. We had wondered for a long time. When we took Ben to college in Middletown, we watched the gay and lesbian groups chalk messages on the sidewalks at the top of the hill: Say hi to a bi. Give us a year and you’ll be queer. Have you told a parent you’re gay today? Ben was smiling. Ben and Harvey moved the station wagon out of a load zone, and I waited on a creaking swing in front of a building with the school flag, the American flag, and the state flag waving on top. Peace washed over me as though I had taken a pill for it. I wanted chalk. I had something important to say on the sidewalk: Have you told your son you’re happy for him today?

Winterborne, who was standing beside a plate-glass counter and looking down at its contents, glanced up at their approach. “Welcome,” he said, a smile in his eyes. “Is this what you had expected?” The question was addressed to the group, but his gaze had gone to Helen. The twins erupted with happy exclamations and praise, while Helen shook her head and smiled. “It’s even more grand than I had imagined,” she told him. “Let me take you on a tour.” Winterborne slid a questioning glance to the rest of the group. “Would any of you like to accompany us? Or perhaps you’d like to start shopping?” He gestured to a stack of rattan baskets near the counter. The twins looked at each other, and decisively said, “Shopping.” Winterborne grinned. “The confectionery and books are in that direction. Drugs and perfumery over there. Back there you’ll find hats, scarves, ribbons, and lace.” Before he had even finished the sentence, the twins had each grabbed a basket and dashed away. “Girls…” Kathleen began, disconcerted by their wildness, but they were already out of earshot. She looked at Winterborne ruefully. “For your own safety, try to stay out of their path or you’ll be trampled.” “You should have seen how the ladies behaved during my first bi-annual sale discounts,” Winterborne told her. “Violence. Screaming. I’d rather go through the train accident again.” Kathleen couldn’t help smiling.

Early in the boob-emerging years, I had no boobs, and I was touchy about it. Remember in middle school algebra class, you’d type 55378008 on your calculator, turn it upside down, and hand it to the flat-chested girl across the aisle? I was that girl, you bi-yotch. I would have died twice if any of the boys had mentioned my booblets. Last year, I thought my boobs had progressed quite nicely. And I progressed from the one-piece into a tankini. But I wasn’t quite ready for any more exposure. I didn’t want the boys to treat me like a girl. Now I did. So today I’d worn a cute little bikini. Over that, I still wore Adam’s cutoff jeans. Amazingly, they looked sexy, riding low on my hips, when I traded the football T-shirt for a pink tank that ended above my belly button and hugged my figure. I even had a little cleavage. I was so proud. Sean was going to love it. Mrs. Vader stared at my chest, perplexed. Finally she said, “Oh, I get it. You’re trying to look hot.” “Thank you!” Mission accomplished. “Here’s a hint. Close your legs.” I snapped my thighs together on the stool. People always scolded me for sitting like a boy. Then I slid off the stool and stomped to the door in a huff. “Where do you want me?” She’d turned back to the computer. “You’ve got gas.” Oh, goody. I headed out the office door, toward the front dock to man the gas pumps. This meant at some point during the day, one of the boys would look around the marina office and ask, “Who has gas?” and another boy would answer, “Lori has gas.” If I were really lucky, Sean would be in on the joke. The office door squeaked open behind me. “Lori,” Mrs. Vader called. “Did you want to talk?” Noooooooo. Nothing like that. I’d only gone into her office and tried to start a conversation. Mrs. Vader had three sons. She didn’t know how to talk to a girl. My mother had died in a boating accident alone on the lake when I was four. I didn’t know how to talk to a woman. Any convo between Mrs. Vader and me was doomed from the start. “No, why?” I asked without turning around. I’d been galloping down the wooden steps, but now I stepped very carefully, looking down, as if I needed to examine every footfall so I wouldn’t trip. “Watch out around the boys,” she warned me. I raised my hand and wiggled my fingers, toodle-dee-doo, dismissing her. Those boys were harmless. Those boys had better watch out for me.

Zamisli da si bio negde na pragu ove bajke pre mnogo milijardi godina kad je sve stvoreno. Mogao bi da biraš da li ćeš jednom biti rođen i živeti na ovoj planeti. Ne bi znao kad će to biti, ni koliko dugo ćeš ostati ovde, ali tvoj život u svakom slučaju ne bi trajao duže od nekoliko desetina godina. Znao bi samo jedno: ako odabereš da dođeš na ovaj svet, jednoga dana, kad 'kucne čas', moraćeš i da se oprostiš od njega i odeš.

Grits Glossary hillbilly \’hil-,bi-lē\ n: a derogatory term that refers to people living in the next county or town; alternate forms include redneck, cracker, hilljack, swamp rat, hick, and Yankee

Kad bi se svi ljudi ugušili u pismima umrlih roditelja i predaka, nikad ne bismo uspeli da živimo sopstvene živote.

Fiona Zedde’s entire body of work), and Alyssa Cole’s body of work (Once Ghosted, Twice Shy and How to Find a Princess). There is sporadic representation of bi Black women, such as Talia Hibbert’s Take a Hint, Dani Brown. The self-published options, however, are broader. There’s Chencia C. Higgins’s Things Hoped For and Consolation Gifts, Meka James’s Being Hospitable, J. Nichole’s A Girl Like Me, Christina C. Jones’s Something Like Love, and G. L. Tomas’s Wander This World and The Love Bet.

If indeed all lives mattered, we would not need to emphatically proclaim that “Black Lives Matter.” Or, as we discover on the BLM website: Black Women Matter, Black Girls Matter, Black Gay Lives Matter, Black Bi Lives Matter, Black Boys Matter, Black Queer Lives Matter, Black Men Matter, Black Lesbians Matter, Black Trans Lives Matter, Black Immigrants Matter, Black Incarcerated Lives Matter. Black Differently Abled Lives Matter. Yes, Black Lives Matter, Latino/Asian American/Native American/Muslim/Poor and Working-Class White Peoples Lives matter. There are many more specific instances we would have to name before we can ethically and comfortable claim that All Lives Matter.

Life’s too short to waste on what-ifs and regrets. Life should be lived to the fullest. Quit school. Take a weird job. Pursue your passion. Ask the girl out.” She looked at Annie askance. “Or guy.” Her lips curved upward. “Or girl.” Elle’s smile brightened and she held out a hand. “Bi five.” Annie laughed and gave Elle a high five.

Black Women Matter, Black Girls Matter, Black Gay Lives Matter, Black Bi Lives Matter, Black Boys Matter, Black Queer Lives Matter, Black Men Matter, Black Lesbians Matter, Black Trans Lives Matter, Black Immigrants Matter, Black Incarcerated Lives Matter. Black Differently Abled Lives Matter. Yes, Black Lives Matter, Latino/Asian American/Native American/Muslim/Poor and Working-Class White Peoples Lives matter.

Handle it how?” asked a third mother. “Amazon Prime?” “We’ll handle it,” repeated Terry. “There are tarps in the toolshed. We’ll be fine.” JEN, IMPRESSED BY Terry’s masterful attitude, consented to hook up with him in the greenhouse that evening (we’d piled a nest of blankets in a corner). Jen was strong but had notoriously low standards, make-out-wise. Not to be outdone, the other two girls and I agreed to play Spin the Bottle with David and Low. Extreme version, oral potentially included. Juicy was fourteen, too immature for us and too much of a slob, and Rafe wasn’t bi. Shame, said Sukey. Rafe is hella good-looking. Then Dee said she wouldn’t play, so it was down to Sukey and me. Dee was afraid of Spin the Bottle, due to being—Sukey alleged—a quiet little mouse and most likely even a mouth virgin. Timid and shy, Dee was also passive-aggressive, neurotic, a germaphobe, and borderline paranoid. According to Sukey. “Suck it up, mousy,” said Sukey. “It’s a teachable moment.” “Why teachable?” asked Dee. Because, said Sukey, she, yours truly, was a master of the one-minute handjob. Dee could pick up some tips. The guys sat straighter when Sukey said that. Their interest became focused and laser-like. But Dee said no, she wasn’t that type. Plus, after this she needed a shower. Val also declined to participate. She left to go climbing in the dark. This was while the parents were playing Texas Hold ’Em and squabbling over alleged card counting—someone’s father had been kicked out of a casino in Las Vegas. The younger kids were fast asleep.

Party time Part 1 After school, we go to Maddie’s. When we were little, like freshman year and even some of the sophomore year, we would sometimes stay in her room and put on x-out and pluck out eyebrows into that fine little line, and color our hair with highlights, and order pizza, cramming down as much as we could eat. Those days are going, we can’t get fat. Now Jenny hardly eats anything, and if she does, she can hardly keep it down. I think maybe that’s what I get so lightheaded, I only eat like once a day now. Jenny back then had a little extra around the middle, and now you can see her ribs, she even has that two-defined line on her tummy that goes into her underwear. I remember sneaking around late at night in her hose stealing a cookie from the jar on the top shelf in the old wood cabinet, that is also where her mom would hide her cigarettes that Jenny loved also, and the condoms were in a trinity box on top of the fridge, I sorry but I find that hilarious. At that time, we would stretch out on one of her, old enormous worn-out couches and watch, TV or movies until we fell asleep in our nightshirts’-the TV in Maddie’s living room is like 80 inches it’s like being in a movie theater our legs tangled together under an enormous fleece blanket. Maddie and liv are always entangled more passionately than Jenny and me on the loveseat! Maddie has an ancient TV in her room from the 1990s. It sucks and is small, it’s one of those with the big back on it, and the color is green, like looking into a fish tank. It’s funny her mom and dad don’t have money blinds on the windows, yet they have a big ass TV. You can sometimes see the people in the next condo overlooking us like we can see them get busy in their room! Yet nothing beats the hot guy taking a leak in room 302, he looks to be in his late twenties. He takes the boxes off at 10 pm and we get a free show. He knows we can see him because he makes it look inflexible and you are no more personable. Jenny and we girls love to press upon the glass, and just have fun and be a little crazy, like lifting our nighties and flashing the goods. Facebook stocking gets boring quickly anymore, so some nights the webcam comes out too. After her mom and dad are asleep… I like it’s more fun to be bad! Like we all have profiles and fake names because none of us are eighteen yet. Any- how’s mine is ‘Angel Pink Wings 01’ Maddie goes by: ‘Mad kitty 69’ Jenny goes by: ‘Ms. Little Lover 14’ Liv goes by: ‘Olivia O 123’ Yet everyone knows her by Liv so that name is okay- I guess. We make good money- ‘Double Clicking the Mouse.’ You would not believe all the pervs on this cam the site, just wanting to see us doing it. Like old guys like our PE teacher! Man- that I didn’t even think about how to turn on a computer. Just like him, I guess they need too to see more of us close up. We have our checks mailed to Jenny's college boyfriend’s PO Box. Me this is what I do and yes- I come for you all, I just put in fake blue hair dye in, and have fake long lashes, and put in my blue contacts, and you don’t even know me. And then pen in more eyebrows. Fake, fake, fake, fake FAKE! Boys don’t like it when you fake it or do, they look at me, that's why I am Bi.

Party time Part 1 After school, we go to Maddie’s. When we were little, like freshman year and even some of the sophomore year, we would sometimes stay in her room and put on x-out and pluck out eyebrows into that fine little line, and color our hair with highlights, and order pizza, cramming down as much as we could eat. Those days are going, we can’t get fat. Now Jenny hardly eats anything, and if she does, she can hardly keep it down. I think maybe that’s what I get so lightheaded, I only eat like once a day now. Jenny back then had a little extra around the middle, and now you can see her ribs, she even has that two-defined line on her tummy that goes into her underwear. I remember sneaking around late at night in her hose stealing a cookie from the jar on the top shelf in the old wood cabinet, that is also where her mom would hide her cigarettes that Jenny loved also, and the condoms were in a trinity box on top of the fridge, I sorry but I find that hilarious. At that time, we would stretch out on one of her, old enormous worn-out couches and watch, TV or movies until we fell asleep in our nightshirts’-the TV in Maddie’s living room is like 80 inches it’s like being in a movie theater our legs tangled together under an enormous fleece blanket. Maddie and liv are always entangled more passionately than Jenny and me on the loveseat! Maddie has an ancient TV in her room from the 1990s. It sucks and is small, it’s one of those with the big back on it, and the color is green, like looking into a fish tank. It’s funny her mom and dad don’t have money blinds on the windows, yet they have a big ass TV. You can sometimes see the people in the next condo overlooking us like we can see them get busy in their room! Yet nothing beats the hot guy taking a leak in room 302, he looks to be in his late twenties. He takes the boxes off at 10 pm and we get a free show. He knows we can see him because he makes it look inflexible and you are no more personable. Jenny and we girls love to press upon the glass, and just have fun and be a little crazy, like lifting our nighties and flashing the goods. Facebook stocking gets boring quickly anymore, so some nights the webcam comes out too. After her mom and dad are asleep… I like it’s more fun to be bad! Like we all have profiles and fake names because none of us are eighteen yet. Any- how’s mine is ‘Angel Pink Wings 01’ Maddie goes by: ‘Mad kitty 69’ Jenny goes by: ‘Ms. Little Lover 14’ Liv goes by: ‘Olivia O 123’ Yet everyone knows her by Liv so that name is okay- I guess. We make good money- ‘Double Clicking the Mouse.’ You would not believe all the pervs on this cam. the site, just wanting to see us doing it. Like old guys like our PE teacher! Man- that I didn’t even think about how to turn on a computer. Just like him, I guess they need too to see more of us close up. We have our checks mailed to Jenny's college boyfriend’s PO Box. Me this is what I do and yes- I come for you all, I just put in fake blue hair dye in, and have fake long lashes, and put in my blue contacts, and you don’t even know me. And then pen in more eyebrows. Fake, fake, fake, fake FAKE! Boys don’t like it when you fake it or do, they look at me, that's why I am Bi.

Dan Dilco- Liv calls him her ‘Dildo’ because he became her new sex toy over the weekend and for now… instead of that. She gives him that pet name, there have been a lot of pet names, that is how we all keep track of them all too. She has one of those also like most of us girls, nevertheless, she’s more cover than me, in not hiding it in a Pringles can. Anyway, this one came about because it rhymes with his last name. I guess she thinks that’s cute. He’s the last one on the list to pick up today, I’m sure next week or maybe tomorrow for all I know it will be someone new, but as for now, he’s the one that is all horned-up for her as she is for him. It won’t last… I think she randomly started making out with him at the bonfire, they have hooked up at least ten times, senses Friday. I don’t think Liv knows what she wants. I think she is too Bi or Bi-curious or something to choose. It seems after they become a dating couple it ends as fast as it starts. I don’t think she’s that hard to get along with, high maintenance maybe, but she’s a sweet girl overall, with a loving and trusting person. Liv already asked me to go out with her… Um- I like her, yet not in that way. I have been there, done that kind of a thing, I have kissed her, yet I never thought about it going anywhere. I don’t want to end a good friendship. Plus, I only want the forbidden boy named Ray!

(Home) ‘This land is beautiful, but the people are horrible.’ The people took this beautiful land and raped it, and put up a bunch of ugly boxes, however, my home is in the Victorian-style and it is old and has a handcrafted personality. There is an ancient oak tree outside my window, sometimes I step out my window then onto the roof of the porch, and sit in the tree branch that hangs over, and watches all the stars as they appear to turn on and off. Yes, I have wished upon a shooting star, that things will change, and that the towers will be no more. Looking straight ahead, I can see all the lights that go on the horizon, some days the sunsets are blazing before the lights turn on. Then there are some days that the window is shut because it is cold windy while everything is chilled with the color of blue. (Frame of mind) My mood can change just like this and that it seems. Yes, just like all the summer turns into winter, and the winters turn into spring, and all of these thoughts running in my mind fall like the leaves through my brain, and they most likely do not mean a thing. I guess you could blame it on my ADD, ADHD, dyslexia, bipolar disorder, or OCD. I do not have any of these… I do not have anything wrong with me. But, if you are like one of the sisters or someone from my school, you would say my mood changes are because of my- STD’s, HIV, or being as they say GAY or BI, and LEZ-BO. They have also said, I am a pedophile and a child stocker, and I get moody if I do not get some from them. That is why I am so sober at times, or so they say. Whatever…! They also have said that I am a schizophrenic- psycho and that I could not even buy love. I would not try that anyways. I think that having money does not give you happiness; I am okay being a humble farm- girl, the guy that finds me… needs to be happy with that also. I am sure there are more things they say. However, those are just some of them that I can dredge up as of now, off the top of my head. They have murdered me and my life, in so many ways. So now, do you wonder as to why I am afraid of talking to people or even looking at them? You know you and they can try to destroy me, and my life. However, I do not have any of those listed either; none of these random arrangements of letters defines me as the person I truly am. (Sight) Looking out the windows, I can see the golden hayfields of ecstasy, I see the windmills that twist and tumble. I can see the abandoned railroad track that lies not far from my home. I can hear the cries of the swing as the wind gusts in spurts. But yet I am still in my room, but that is just okay with me. Because I know that there will someday soon be someone there for me. (Household) My room is a land of peace and tranquility without all the gloom, with a bed and a canopy overhead but still, I am not truly happy? There is nothing- like the sounds of the crickets speaking up often in the cool August night breeze. It is relaxing to me, however; it is a reminder to me of how the last glimmers of summer are ending. Besides the sounds slowly fade away, yes- I can hear this music from my bedroom window. It is just like in the spring the birds sing in the morning and leave in the cool gusts to come. It is just like the hummingbirds that flutter by, and then before I know it, all has changed; so, it seems by the time I walk out my bedroom door, to start my day. ‘Life goes in cycles of tunes it seems, and nature is its synchronization in its symphony you just have to listen.

To im je jednostavno u prirodi. Jednostavno su nekako izopačeni. Muškarac će se početi udaljavati od devojke ili čak pobeći čim ona počne delovati dostupno. To je zato jer on onda počinje osećati da ne mora ništa činiti kako bi je pridobio. Ona mu više ne predstavlja izazov. Nikad joj to neće otvoreno priznati. Ne dopušta joj da shvati da je on u krivu, nema šanse! Pokušaće učiniti sve da se ona oseća kao ta koja ima probleme, a ne on. Neki čak krenu devojkama slati signale u nadi da će one biti te koje prekidaju vezu, ali ih mi, glupače, nikada ne pohvatamo. Mi nastavljamo raditi na toj vezi dok nas ne ubije, čak i kad smo od početka sigurne da se radi o potpunoj katastrofi. Zato na kraju napravimo budale od sebe. Mi smo te koje se ne držimo svog ponosa od početka kako bi izašle iz svega toga sa netaknutom čašću.

But to me, bi meant equally attracted to boys and girls. I wasn’t that. I was basically attracted to girls and one specific guy. There had to be a term for that.

The confectionery and books are in that direction. Drugs and perfumery over there. Back there you’ll find hats, scarves, ribbons, and lace.” Before he had even finished the sentence, the twins had each grabbed a basket and dashed away. “Girls…” Kathleen began, disconcerted by their wildness, but they were already out of earshot. She looked at Winterborne ruefully. “For your own safety, try to stay out of their path or you’ll be trampled.” “You should have seen how the ladies behaved during my first bi-annual sale discounts,” Winterborne told her. “Violence. Screaming. I’d rather go through the train accident again.” Kathleen couldn’t help smiling.

The confectionery and books are in that direction. Drugs and perfumery over there. Back there you’ll find hats, scarves, ribbons, and lace.” Before he had even finished the sentence, the twins had each grabbed a basket and dashed away. “Girls…” Kathleen began, disconcerted by their wildness, but they were already out of earshot. She looked at Winterborne ruefully. “For your own safety, try to stay out of their path or you’ll be trampled.” “You should have seen how the ladies behaved during my first bi-annual sale discounts,” Winterborne told her. “Violence. Screaming. I’d rather go through the train accident again.” Kathleen couldn’t help smiling. Winterborne escorted Helen away from the rotunda. “Would you like to see the pianos?” she heard him ask. Her timid reply was muffled as they retreated from sight. Devon came to stand beside Kathleen. After a long, uncomfortable moment, she asked, “When you look at them, do you ever see two people who feel even the slightest infatuation for each other? There’s no natural ease between them, no sharing of mutual enthusiasms. They talk as if they were strangers on an omnibus.” “I see two people who haven’t yet lowered their guards with each other,” came his matter-of-fact reply.

There is sporadic representation of bi Black women, such as Talia Hibbert’s Take a Hint, Dani Brown. The self-published options, however, are broader. There’s Chencia C. Higgins’s Things Hoped For and Consolation Gifts, Meka James’s Being Hospitable, J. Nichole’s A Girl Like Me, Christina C. Jones’s Something Like Love, and G. L. Tomas’s Wander This World and The Love Bet. Still, this isn’t enough.