You cant shoot me that would be gay
Conditional Love: The Queer Shrink from of Coming Out to Family in Singapore
Top image: Benjamin Tan / RICE file photo
This story is part of RICE Media’s Storytellers initiative, a mentorship programme for budding content creators to learn about the art of creative non-fiction. This piece is a product of a partnership between RICE Media and Singapore Management University (SMU) for its Professional Writing module.
Killing a version of myself was the only way I could ever be loved. It was the only way I could ever feel safe as a queer Singaporean.
For years, I’ve had to destroy who I truly am, a closeted gay gal, and hide my lifeless body under my replacement: a heterosexual, norm-conforming female. There was no other solution.
To the first person I tried coming out to when I was 16: thank you for telling me to shoot myself if I can’t be straight. I heeded your advice. The buried identity can concur.
Coming Out and Letting In
Coming out of the closet to your loved ones is considered a rite of passage for any queer person in the LGBTQ+ community. Unfortunately, coming out of the closet in Singapore can also be the scariest thing on Earth, especially when your safety m
Gregg Araki by Lawrence Chua
Intimidated, perhaps, by the potency brimming under the chalky surfaces of Gregg Araki’s HIV positive road movie, The Living End, a major Los Angeles dubbing facility refused to make video copies of the film, calling it “pornographic shit.” The only thing pornographic about The Living End, though, is the “dark, personal place” from which the 33-year-old director says the film came. Araki, who is famous for his filmic exercises in uncontrolled middle class angst, can be confoundingly hesitant discussing his motivations, but his work remains a testimony to “no-budget” tenacity. The Living End is Araki’s third feature film and with a $20,000 budget, it’s also his most expensive. Both of his first features, Three Bewildered People in the Night and The Elongated Weekend (O’ Despair) were made for $5,000 each.araki_02_body.jpg
Lawrence Chua What was your own feeling involvement in The Living End? I’m especially curious about…
Gregg Araki My HIV status.
LC No. Not at all, actually. There are just things in the film that appeal to people on unlike levels. On one level it’s the joy of seeing things like bashing back homophobes or blowing off
LGBT in Afghanistan: 'I could be killed on the spot'
Before the Taliban uprising in Afghanistan, life for gay man Abdul (his name has been changed) was already dangerous.
If he'd spoken about his sexuality to the incorrect person then, Abdul could have been arrested and taken to court for his sexuality, under Afghan laws.
But since the Taliban seized control of major cities in Afghanistan last week, Abdul tells Radio 1 Newsbeat his sexuality being revealed would now have him "killed on the spot".
The Taliban are a military group who have taken control of the country, and are known to enforce excessive Islamic ideals.
Under the Taliban's interpretation of Sharia Commandment, homosexuality is strictly prohibited and punishable by death.
The last time they were in power in Afghanistan, between the late 90s and 2001, 21-year-old Abdul hadn't been born.
"I've heard my parents and elders talk about the Taliban," he says.
"We watched some movies. But now, it's like being inside a movie."
Being gay in the Islamic State: 'I'd prefer it if you fire me in the head'
Warning: This report contains graphic images.
BEFORE A CROWD of men on a street in the Syrian capital of Palmyra, the masked Islamic State group judge read out the sentence against the two men convicted of homosexuality: They would be thrown to their deaths from the roof of the nearby Wael Hotel.
He asked one of the men if he was satisfied with the sentence. Death, the evaluate told him, would help cleanse him of his sin.
“I’d prefer it if you shoot me in the head,” 32-year-old Hawas Mallah replied helplessly.
The second man, 21-year-old Mohammed Salameh, pleaded for a chance to repent, promising never to have sex with a bloke again, according to a witness among the onlookers that sunny July morning.
“Take them and pitch them off,” the judge ordered.
Other masked extremists tied the men’s hands behind their backs and blindfolded them.
They led them to the roof of the four-storey hotel, according to the witness, who spoke in the Turkish capital of Reyhanli on condition he be identified only by his first label, Omar, for hesitate of reprisals.
Notorious for their gruesome methods of killing, the Islamic Sta