The hopeful emotions embedded in those languages suggested all of us could somehow make our way forward through mutual love and respect. Pin-pointed to geo-locations on a Google world map, in some 28 languages, members of the LBGTQIA community have left anonymous heartfelt expressions of hope, dreams, and encounters.
Honest and oftentimes heart-breaking, Queering the Map is a digitized archive of loves, lost and found, for troubled times. We spoke of all the places we would go if we could. Yet you are gone now. If I had known that bombs raining down on us would take you from me, I would have gladly told the world how I adored you more than anything.
I wish I could watch the sunset over the Gaza sea with you. For one night I wish this occupation was no longer and that we could be free for once on our own land. He was trying to impress me by telling me he targeted a residential building in Gaza.
I received messages at Grindr from Israeli men wearing military uniforms saying they will kill me with photos of D9-Z machine guns with laughing faces just a few hours after I landed at the airport. I had to delete the Palestinian flag next to my name to stop receiving these kinds of messages. This was my first time visiting the land my grandparents were kicked out of, using the privilege of having a Canadian passport. Every now and then I open on this website to re-read the Palestinian stories, and every time I cry.
The only thing I know about this place is what my grandparents went through in β¦ Not love but misery. Borders have blighted both queer and heterosexual lives.
