I have stored the general reminiscence at the back of my mind. This way, it helps in easy recollecting and backtracking. Untrue, I don’t have my moment.
I stuffed them all in, compact but enough to confess. Like a fat turkey brimming with scrambled eggs, obviously ready for butchery. Too ready.
I read sympathy. Like how you read me.
…… Lets see how my journey goes from then (2008)
Come on,, sweetheart. What’s wrong? I promise you everything will be fine.
… I.. We need to stop doing this.
Come, darling, I’m here, what’s the worry? Besides, it isn’t the first time we are doing it anyway.
I…
Then… the process persist the way he expects, perhaps how I expect too (no matter how I remotely quality them as pleasure).
We truly have a deranged middle ground. But it has always being that way, thud of susceptibility bumping in, becoming palpable and brutal, crazily dipping my propensity to withhold some more. And all I ever did to help myself out of it was succumbing; not taking counsel to what the aftermath may deny me.
His undoubtedly sexiness, toned butt and flawlessly arched lips, what’s short? This good male specimen, perfect mould for good sex, good physique gratification, one shouldn’t ask for more, really.
That’s just the issue here. Our sexual life begins from a competing of attention, a tussle that’s unconditional yet contemplate incongruous set of scales. Is life that way, choices and consequences?
The world is full of people who try their luck once the opportunity seeks in. I’m one of which who ask for more when time allows me, not to mention things I’ve never had, also things I’ve had but let off. I’ve gathered all my life for the bravado to make myself better, sometimes it backfire, sometimes it doesn’t. I feel bitter when I lower my expectations to realise people wouldn’t lower their prejudice, creeping in is me pounding the pavement resentfully for I’ve walked there in that spur of a moment. That then is never the same again.
2009 for me was relatively well. Something pleased to know. It could have being worst. Being fairly stupid and always a prat for being sceptical has put me on a distance lift escalating me away from whom it could have turned out well. Of course, I wouldn’t deny my ego trait as a critical role. However, this also has to mean that it was better, much better than the year before. (No more throbbing heart) Perhaps, I’ve learnt. Finally. That is for the adolescent part of me who behind the closed doors hope for something more.
At last, I entered college in late April, University College of Dublin, when my life took a turn. I started to dream of the little girl in her graduation robe in awe. I started to dream of the little girl who earns a bit more than an average graduate could and return back to her mother, whom, in her opinion was the best one could ever have. I started to dream of the nineteen year old girl sitting at the edge of life, hoping she never had entered college to put that burden on her shoulders. I started to dream of that perfect opportunity and the appealing output waiting for her to receive at the end of every month. And she promise, to visit Ireland one day when she make her honors proud.
2010 now, of course, like everyone else, I will make my New Year resolution that I’ve never really pledge to keep mostly (who keeps to it anyway).
Keep my temper in check. Don’t carry my expectations far but concentrate. Time management skills to be hone. Embrace more ‘me’ time. Work harder. Fully utilize my film cameras!! (That’s all for now)
29 December 2008 to December 2009, I’ve suffered for my wrong, I’ve done penance. I know God have the rest plan out for me, I’m …. excited to unearth them one by one. (Thank you God for never permitting me leave sight, never leaving me in the lurch, never giving me a diminish hope)
Lastly, to pull in a nice closing, Ralph Waldo Emerson says, Evermore in this world is this marvellous balance of beauty and disgust, magnificence and rats. I cannot agree more, maybe this is what they call life, in the middle of all these imperfection, we make things perfect…
And so, this it is the begin of the new decade. I’m ready, bring it on.
I have this fear in me, very very intense; it beats my heart quick, like a brilliant throwback in the middle of nowhere, a sudden attack. Beneath that, above him, what was it that cause that adamant 5 years ago? I’m still waiting.. Happy birthday 12.12, the you I’m waiting so long for.
A rush that came too fast
I was in the midst of completing what it seems to be a routine dread to me when real’ whisk less subtle to the facet and mask away my passion day by day, I was defeated by what they call life, whom to me, used to be really fair till it became dust. I’m crushed. I wish life was more voluntarily then it actually is now…
Tonight I was forced to make a decision between doing something I think is right or doing something I know is right. I chose the latter because sometimes, life doesnt’ allow gambles…
“Come, let me help you?”
“Thank you so much.”
I put his hand on mine and led the path I walked so much, so much so I could do the same like he do, just, maybe not with additional aid.
“Be really careful, the roads are congested and you never really will know, amid the toys, which of which breed a spoilt gear or a lubricated wheel.”
“Green silhouette, you ready? Let’s go.”
“Thank you, you, Young lady. You ok?”
“Yes, Thank you.”
“Thanks! Bye.”
For the first time since so long, a rewarding factor came so effortlessly.
“You ok?”
Now I tell you, that myriad of colours is our shortcoming; we get too much and remember too little. There comes a day, the world may just revert to how it was. No, don’t blame her. We deserve it for destroying. Skip the material possession, how about thinking how much we deserve for destroying the humanity in her property? Maybe that’s her way of lecturing us about the misuse of luxury. We deserve it.
There was not one thing Mr ____ man had failed to enlighten me. Earth, Humanity and Perception. I guess seeing is not everything, is a luxury. Sensory it is. My light. I’m paranoid, but.
Then, Thankyou can be so easy.
The area of contact where is least exposed, localised themselves, making the sensory experience vulnerable, but lusty. The smell pleasure and act diminishes as the body compete against stimuli. Quite menacing for a first timer, a goner, but the delighting element comes from the allurement, the romantic enticements. Slow suicide. Sex is suicide. Sex is suicide.
“You are attractive from neck down”
“You are a screen unfiltered but seen”
Like this, the body become a sacred garment.
At any expense, as I believe, demographic, in the end, is equal. No vanity, no fame, no clothing. Death is birth.
I ramble nostalgically on humanity, the visual image of bare and the commercial world of corruption, the selfish means of mankind, and the lukewarm hands of the dying.
So, I asked myself this, “Will I still, engage in sexual gratification if I live a month less? As each desire suffices not in exchange for live”. The complication comes from within.
Forgive my brutal, but I took a negative stance tonight.. the globe is but a blank.
The expired breathe, the secondary queen, the anguish, I know something. None of the normal hesitation, none of the rusty seats. The creamy couch, the cane chair, the fire place, the whitewashed walls, the teal door and the ceremony that went off. My head, against something odd, the consciousness that came to seek. Morton breathes my breath on the edge, the expired that departed. I wasn’t sure about sufficing his mandatory needs. My idea is, I wasn’t sure about the beginning that came as a response; I wanted a question to guide me through the satisfactory. Too late, perhaps.
Here to say, God will turn his back on you if you misbehave.
I was eighteen when I enter graduate school. I grew up in a one story room much of the time (or as far as I remember), in which the hall was out of bounds. The dining side was mostly occupied. The basement of the building was filled with filthy chaps I dislike. I reach home at night with an occasion dim light, mostly, bare light bulbs, my enabling personality would dream of knights, saving my initial discomfort sight. Much of a ‘people pleaser’ at that point, my adamant choice has its price to pay, embracing my alter ego in contra. But. What is extremely less liberating, despite it? My distrust for humanity ever since. How can humans change overnight? Literally I mean.
In case you miss my life, long time since, I have being a psychotherapist in private practice, I still love it.
