bi

Absurdity and anti__bsurdity are the two poles of creative energy.

Wilem: 'What is the word for that here? A man who is intimate with both women and men?''Lucky?' Denna suggested. 'Tired? Ambidextrous?''Ambisextrous,' I corrected.

Living with stress and secrets is both stressful and secretive.

Sorry to disappoint you, parents - but when your kids come out as gay, bi or transgender, it is not about you.

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.

Lord knows why I find you attractive, Michael, when you generally smell like weed and broken hobo dreams.

All you need to validly be bi is to identify! It's so true it rhymes.