When you are 22, you eventually make up your mind to take up arms, to wear the gear, to wear the red gear, to wear the blue gear, to wear the white gear, rainbow-coulour gear maybe, whatever the gear...the coulour does not count.
What is important is actually to take up arms for something.
When I enter this kind of places, I can feel the same smell. The smell is the same in every countries: smells like candy, smells like girls, smells like boys. Smells so queer.
They are not rainbowarriors yet.
Dancing in the middle of the blue sky of the night, reflected on the dancefloor. Honey between the fingers. Faded stars in the eyes. Butts moving like snakes. Boys runing away from masculinity. Oversexualized girls. Giant rabbits. Lost fairies. Lovers from London or Tôkyô. "Living-with-the-beats" geeks. "Criminal queers". In a place away from the usual norms, where boys can dance like women, can even dance with women, and like them put their hand in their hair, moving their butts to get it down.
Swallowing between each other, looking hopelessly for an answer when this one is only Love.
Imitating an American standard, on American music, finding an American identity: maybe the only way to run away from the closet created by the weight of culture?
This is a unique parade: parade in Ni-chome, parade in Itaewon, parade in GC Hanoi. Parade everywhere, at the same time festive and hidden. A parade moving in a ghetto, kindly created to tame them more. Inventing rules to tame them more.
But we are all potentially beautiful, whatever we love: eating apples or pears. Every single face is potentially beautiful. Universal? Looking at the sky, for the shouting stars that will fulfill the best of human being dreams? Our faces are painted and wait to be kissed and cherished.
I believe that, as long as things will move on, there will be neither girls or boys anymore on the dance floor. Just rainbowarriors.
What is important is actually to take up arms for something.
When I enter this kind of places, I can feel the same smell. The smell is the same in every countries: smells like candy, smells like girls, smells like boys. Smells so queer.
They are not rainbowarriors yet.
Dancing in the middle of the blue sky of the night, reflected on the dancefloor. Honey between the fingers. Faded stars in the eyes. Butts moving like snakes. Boys runing away from masculinity. Oversexualized girls. Giant rabbits. Lost fairies. Lovers from London or Tôkyô. "Living-with-the-beats" geeks. "Criminal queers". In a place away from the usual norms, where boys can dance like women, can even dance with women, and like them put their hand in their hair, moving their butts to get it down.
Swallowing between each other, looking hopelessly for an answer when this one is only Love.
Imitating an American standard, on American music, finding an American identity: maybe the only way to run away from the closet created by the weight of culture?
This is a unique parade: parade in Ni-chome, parade in Itaewon, parade in GC Hanoi. Parade everywhere, at the same time festive and hidden. A parade moving in a ghetto, kindly created to tame them more. Inventing rules to tame them more.
But we are all potentially beautiful, whatever we love: eating apples or pears. Every single face is potentially beautiful. Universal? Looking at the sky, for the shouting stars that will fulfill the best of human being dreams? Our faces are painted and wait to be kissed and cherished.
I believe that, as long as things will move on, there will be neither girls or boys anymore on the dance floor. Just rainbowarriors.
