Two significant art spaces in Brisbane, the IMA and QCA PoP Gallery, situated on the same street, were sites of my personal queer realisation, validation, and trauma. I outed myself to my mother through my own very ~gay~ art on Brunswick street, and when I was met with the opposite of “I love you no matter what”, I felt the pain so strongly it broke the fake ID I had assumed for so long. The colonial binaries of memory forbid me from perceiving the event or what it truly was; healing and heart-breaking. When I think of location through a queer lens, I think of the duality of queer trauma and affirmation that can exist within a space; an experience that is liminal and not always, but sometimes complicated. things I can't say / những điều tôi không thể nói sees Vietnamese signage and store fronts as a façade, but also barriers and thresholds. A facade of glimmering neon desire is barricaded by Vietnamese/English reflections and sentiments, as well as questions posed in the past. As an intersectional identity existing somewhere between Australia and across oceans, I lack the words to express my true self or describe queer experiences in my mother’s tongue. What implications does this create in self-expression, validation, and belonging?