This is my second Thanksgiving here in the US. Somehow, this time around, there's really not a lot to be thankful for compared to last year. I'm estranged from my family. I've been run out of home and country. I have a ton of debt which I don't know how to pay for. I still don't have a love life or... wait, let me rephrase that... I still don't have someone who loves me and cares for me in a romantic sense. My darling dog died. I can't manage a really good smile because some dork thought it was amusing to throw a rock through our window and hit me on the face with it and to top it all off, I still have no idea how I'm going to stay on here.
I'm panicking already. Worse, I am paralyzed by panic like I'm in the last two minutes of a basketball game and there's really not much you can do to shorten the lead of the opponent because the clock is ticking and there isn't much time.
PK is the last stand, really. For the first time in my life, I don't have a plan B. I was going to work on it as soon as he left for Thailand but then I had to heal from my injury and then the vacationers came on over. Still, even if those things didn't happen, I couldn't in good faith look for someone else because PK was in my garden. My loyalties lie with him. My fear is that it is misplaced.
I've gone on this quest for the Holy Grail for a couple of years now. I've been told over and over again, build it and they will come. So I set myself up to be ready for him whom I was going to spend my life with. And yet, I come up with nothing.
I envy my friends who have found their special someones. But I really don't know how to do relationships. I don't know how to dance that dance. I've prayed for succor from the heavens to help me out with this but it seems God has more important things to attend to. So I really don't know what to do. I just keep on praying and praying now. I don't know what else to do.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Surgeon Fuck
Okay, my face isn't too bad now and I can present myself privately to strangers again. I set up this rendezvous when PK was still in Thailand. Doc wanted a "private examination" fantasy and I was very willing to play the role of erotic patient. Turns out that he's a real doctor, a vascular surgeon, in fact, so I told him about my injury and he said he'd take a look at it.
He came with flowers in one hand and a wine in the other. He had a black doctor's bag with him and he made me put on a medical examination robe. Waaaayyy fun. Of course, he really did examine me first, putting the stethoscope all over me and checking my reflexes with that implement that looks like a tool from the Flintstones. I could see his rock hard cock pushing its way through his scrubs and like the horny patient that I was, I rubbed his cock until I could see pre-cum seep through his pants.
Well, things got steamier after that so we fucked and fucked again. Rode him, from behind, on my side, missionary. His cock really wasn't that big but he fucked me good. I probably would have enjoyed it if he had a bigger cock but then again, he gave a mean backrub which I thoroughly enjoyed.
Turns out he's also 100% Italian so when we were just wrapping up, we chatted over cheeserolls and exchanged a couple of Italian phrases. He speaks fluently and I was so glad that I understood him even if I couldn't speak it (my brain has to be on Italian mode for that).
This guy's 60 and apparently he's a bigshot in the hospital he works at. His wife gave him permission to have an affair because she's not interested in sex anymore. She's 55 and menopaused already. He has three kids -- one is a PGA golf pro, the other is a sports therapist. I forgot what the eldest one does.
While we were talking, he told me that this was what he missed the most with his wife -- the passion, the excitement, the orgasms which she didn't have anymore. He was a sweet man. I wouldn't mind seeing him again.
He came with flowers in one hand and a wine in the other. He had a black doctor's bag with him and he made me put on a medical examination robe. Waaaayyy fun. Of course, he really did examine me first, putting the stethoscope all over me and checking my reflexes with that implement that looks like a tool from the Flintstones. I could see his rock hard cock pushing its way through his scrubs and like the horny patient that I was, I rubbed his cock until I could see pre-cum seep through his pants.
Well, things got steamier after that so we fucked and fucked again. Rode him, from behind, on my side, missionary. His cock really wasn't that big but he fucked me good. I probably would have enjoyed it if he had a bigger cock but then again, he gave a mean backrub which I thoroughly enjoyed.
Turns out he's also 100% Italian so when we were just wrapping up, we chatted over cheeserolls and exchanged a couple of Italian phrases. He speaks fluently and I was so glad that I understood him even if I couldn't speak it (my brain has to be on Italian mode for that).
This guy's 60 and apparently he's a bigshot in the hospital he works at. His wife gave him permission to have an affair because she's not interested in sex anymore. She's 55 and menopaused already. He has three kids -- one is a PGA golf pro, the other is a sports therapist. I forgot what the eldest one does.
While we were talking, he told me that this was what he missed the most with his wife -- the passion, the excitement, the orgasms which she didn't have anymore. He was a sweet man. I wouldn't mind seeing him again.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Heaven and Hell
One person's heaven is always another person's hell.
My grieving for Moo has been sorely interrupted by an unexpected visit from my mom and sisters. They came for my grandmother's birthday. They stayed for two weeks.
The rest of the family was just ecstatic they were here. The circus had just come to town and every day was whirlwind of activity, filled with things to do, places to visit, photographs to take, food to eat.
It was meant to be a surprise, even to me. When I first saw them though, the first thing I said was "Why are you here?". And I meant it. They had invaded my sanctuary when I had not even begun to properly heal yet. How could they expect me to do cartwheels in their presence when here was the person who turned me away when I had no place to go, could not find the kindness in her heart to ask how I was, or what could be done to help when my world was crumbling?
Moo's murderer, my other sister, came next. She brought his ashes with her and so my darling Moo has finally come home to me. It was the least she could do. In my mind and in my heart, she will always be guilty of infidelity in the custody of my most precious trust. I trusted her with half my heart and she did not look after it with the care I expected her to give during her watch. Her unnecessary confusion at what to do with her life and with a standing obligation regarding Moo translated into one thing for my little booger. All he knew and felt was that he was unwanted and that he was such a burden. Everybody else in that house probably wished him gone, too, just so that my sister wouldn't have such a dilemma. He probably thought that I had also abandoned him, left him to fend himself with the wolves by his lonesome and knowing that, my little darling did not have any strength in him left to bid his heart to keep beating. They killed Moo the same way they killed me. He died of a broken heart.
What do you say to those who killed your loved one? What do you do when they treat the loss as though I've just lost a pen and not someone who shared my life with me for a good seven years and kept me company when none of them did? What do you do when you come face to face with those who have ruined your life as you know it?
I had a plan, you know. A plan as crazy-ass as doing a sommersault on a tightrope the success of which relied mostly on balance and a good sense of timing. It was a big risk because I was gunning for even bigger results and the timid do not reap that reward. And in the middle of its execution, those I had trusted to watch my back for me not only shook the poles that held the tightrope; they took away the safety net, too. And I fell. Face first. The unexpected betrayal left me with a disfigured face and a host of internal injuries. The latter is worse.
So what do you say to them when they suddenly come into focus out of your peripheral vision and carry themselves as though your life's tragedies which they proximately caused was yesterday's news and not worthy of a second glance?
There is absolutely nothing to say. To see them again was like scratching an open wound. Everything's changed and yet, everything stayed the same. Different place, different country, same people. They still ignored me. They still left me behind. They still couldn't have cared less at what became of me. Worse, they did not even acknowledge the death of my dearest, as though that occurence was as commonplace as taking a crap.
Those two weeks were hellish for me. So I slept and slept and wished that I wouldn't wake up the next day. I am angry and yet utterly exhausted. How dare all of you pretend nothing happened? How dare all of you carry on so casually? How dare you say you love me when I am descending madly into a vortex and you won't even try to reach out your hand to me to keep me from falling?
I still love them, I think. Probably in the deep recesses of my heart which I have enclosed for the moment, temporarily shut down because the vital parts in me have yet to be resuscitated. My heart remains hard, cold, round and jagged as the rock that hit me in the face. Occasionally, I turn inward and check for some feeling there but finding none, I decide to best leave it be. It would have been kinder if they had just killed me than left me for dead, barely breathing. I so longed to turn to my mom and tell her that if I had known this was the way things would turn out, that I wished she wouldn't have borne me at all. I couldn't bear to say it because the words wouldn't come out. I hurt and I ache so deep inside me that I may need help to bring it out. That's why I'm writing. I need to spew out all the hurt, the anger, the pain in the only way I know how because it's eating me from the inside and I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up and I won't recognize myself. And the thing is, I liked myself before all this happened. I loved my life as I knew it. It was far from complete but I had enough to keep me looking forward to the next day.
I have been trying to remember the last time I was with my mom and sisters and I felt happy. We'd all be laughing, most probably at each other, and Moo would get passed around to be hugged and kissed by everyone. That moment escapes my memory now. I cannot call it forth because it is locked away, like all those other moments of fonder times still yet unstained by betrayal of confidences, still yet untried and untested by the ominous question that usually follows such tragedies -- what would love do now?
In the aftermath of the muteness of their reply, I dare not bring those memories out. Let me keep them for a while to draw on during happier times. To bring them out now would dissipate them and dilute their value when placed side by side, in stark contrast with the question they so miserably failed to answer.
Before my mom left, she gave me a book in which she wrote a note inside. She said, "Be assured of our continued love and care for you for we truly care for you and truly love you." Before she got on the plane, she bid me good luck. Nice as they are to hear, they ring hollow to my ears. Empty words for now. You say you love me. Tell me those words again when you are willing to do more than just say it. Tell me those words when you are ready to ask me how I am and are brave enough to sit there and listen to me speak of the pain that you have caused me and still be willing to embrace me after. Say it when you are ready to help me heal because I cannot do this on my own. Until you acknowledge the part you played in my disintegration, a part of me will always be dead.
As for my sister, I reached out to her while she was here and we actually got to talk. We covered a lot of ground and I thought that we could actually begin rebuilding our relationship but right after the talk, she stonewalled me again. Where she got the nerve to feel as though she could take the high road with me when she killed my dearest, I don't know. Where she got the gall to say all those things to me before coming here only to not be able to say them to my face, I don't know. But really, the gall and the nerve.
Because we were close before, I was ready to forgive and put a good faith effort at rebuilding ties. That's why I reached out but in the state and the situation I'm in, I can only do so much. If she expects me to cajole her out of her silence because she's "baby girl" which is what her beau (who's still alive, btw. Yes, I didn't kill him or wish him dead when I was cracking under pressure) calls her, she can go fuck herself. That kind of arrogance is the surest path to infanticide. During our talk when I asked her why she hasn't been speaking to me ever since she arrived, she claimed fear instead of pride. Ever since we've cleared the air (or so I thought), she still stonewalled. Now, whether it's fear or it's pride, I don't give a fucking rat's ass.
I entrusted my most precious and dearest with you. Even when we were arguing and I capitulated and even begged you to promise to take care of him, you arrogantly said that you wouldn't promise me that. Then, after all the hoopla, you bring him home to me in a box. You don't know how hard it is to even acknowledge the existence of the person who took so much away from you. And yet, I still tried. So if you feel that it's difficult to make small talk, to share yourself, to try to get past this by opening lines of communication, TRY FUCKING HARDER. You killed my dog. You took from me. YOU TRY FUCKING HARDER. It’s going to take a while because I have nothing left to give now. The only joy that remained in my life, you took away. So you try and you keep at it until the walls come tumbling down. And don’t you dare pretend that all I’ve lost was just a pen. You cry with me. You hold my hand. You grieve with me because you, of all people, knew how much I loved him. And I will forgive you. I will welcome you with open arms and thank the heavens that you’re my sister because that’s what love would do.
You have so much before you that I want to be happy for. I want to but I can’t. Not yet. Not until. Not before.
My grieving for Moo has been sorely interrupted by an unexpected visit from my mom and sisters. They came for my grandmother's birthday. They stayed for two weeks.
The rest of the family was just ecstatic they were here. The circus had just come to town and every day was whirlwind of activity, filled with things to do, places to visit, photographs to take, food to eat.
It was meant to be a surprise, even to me. When I first saw them though, the first thing I said was "Why are you here?". And I meant it. They had invaded my sanctuary when I had not even begun to properly heal yet. How could they expect me to do cartwheels in their presence when here was the person who turned me away when I had no place to go, could not find the kindness in her heart to ask how I was, or what could be done to help when my world was crumbling?
Moo's murderer, my other sister, came next. She brought his ashes with her and so my darling Moo has finally come home to me. It was the least she could do. In my mind and in my heart, she will always be guilty of infidelity in the custody of my most precious trust. I trusted her with half my heart and she did not look after it with the care I expected her to give during her watch. Her unnecessary confusion at what to do with her life and with a standing obligation regarding Moo translated into one thing for my little booger. All he knew and felt was that he was unwanted and that he was such a burden. Everybody else in that house probably wished him gone, too, just so that my sister wouldn't have such a dilemma. He probably thought that I had also abandoned him, left him to fend himself with the wolves by his lonesome and knowing that, my little darling did not have any strength in him left to bid his heart to keep beating. They killed Moo the same way they killed me. He died of a broken heart.
What do you say to those who killed your loved one? What do you do when they treat the loss as though I've just lost a pen and not someone who shared my life with me for a good seven years and kept me company when none of them did? What do you do when you come face to face with those who have ruined your life as you know it?
I had a plan, you know. A plan as crazy-ass as doing a sommersault on a tightrope the success of which relied mostly on balance and a good sense of timing. It was a big risk because I was gunning for even bigger results and the timid do not reap that reward. And in the middle of its execution, those I had trusted to watch my back for me not only shook the poles that held the tightrope; they took away the safety net, too. And I fell. Face first. The unexpected betrayal left me with a disfigured face and a host of internal injuries. The latter is worse.
So what do you say to them when they suddenly come into focus out of your peripheral vision and carry themselves as though your life's tragedies which they proximately caused was yesterday's news and not worthy of a second glance?
There is absolutely nothing to say. To see them again was like scratching an open wound. Everything's changed and yet, everything stayed the same. Different place, different country, same people. They still ignored me. They still left me behind. They still couldn't have cared less at what became of me. Worse, they did not even acknowledge the death of my dearest, as though that occurence was as commonplace as taking a crap.
Those two weeks were hellish for me. So I slept and slept and wished that I wouldn't wake up the next day. I am angry and yet utterly exhausted. How dare all of you pretend nothing happened? How dare all of you carry on so casually? How dare you say you love me when I am descending madly into a vortex and you won't even try to reach out your hand to me to keep me from falling?
I still love them, I think. Probably in the deep recesses of my heart which I have enclosed for the moment, temporarily shut down because the vital parts in me have yet to be resuscitated. My heart remains hard, cold, round and jagged as the rock that hit me in the face. Occasionally, I turn inward and check for some feeling there but finding none, I decide to best leave it be. It would have been kinder if they had just killed me than left me for dead, barely breathing. I so longed to turn to my mom and tell her that if I had known this was the way things would turn out, that I wished she wouldn't have borne me at all. I couldn't bear to say it because the words wouldn't come out. I hurt and I ache so deep inside me that I may need help to bring it out. That's why I'm writing. I need to spew out all the hurt, the anger, the pain in the only way I know how because it's eating me from the inside and I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up and I won't recognize myself. And the thing is, I liked myself before all this happened. I loved my life as I knew it. It was far from complete but I had enough to keep me looking forward to the next day.
I have been trying to remember the last time I was with my mom and sisters and I felt happy. We'd all be laughing, most probably at each other, and Moo would get passed around to be hugged and kissed by everyone. That moment escapes my memory now. I cannot call it forth because it is locked away, like all those other moments of fonder times still yet unstained by betrayal of confidences, still yet untried and untested by the ominous question that usually follows such tragedies -- what would love do now?
In the aftermath of the muteness of their reply, I dare not bring those memories out. Let me keep them for a while to draw on during happier times. To bring them out now would dissipate them and dilute their value when placed side by side, in stark contrast with the question they so miserably failed to answer.
Before my mom left, she gave me a book in which she wrote a note inside. She said, "Be assured of our continued love and care for you for we truly care for you and truly love you." Before she got on the plane, she bid me good luck. Nice as they are to hear, they ring hollow to my ears. Empty words for now. You say you love me. Tell me those words again when you are willing to do more than just say it. Tell me those words when you are ready to ask me how I am and are brave enough to sit there and listen to me speak of the pain that you have caused me and still be willing to embrace me after. Say it when you are ready to help me heal because I cannot do this on my own. Until you acknowledge the part you played in my disintegration, a part of me will always be dead.
As for my sister, I reached out to her while she was here and we actually got to talk. We covered a lot of ground and I thought that we could actually begin rebuilding our relationship but right after the talk, she stonewalled me again. Where she got the nerve to feel as though she could take the high road with me when she killed my dearest, I don't know. Where she got the gall to say all those things to me before coming here only to not be able to say them to my face, I don't know. But really, the gall and the nerve.
Because we were close before, I was ready to forgive and put a good faith effort at rebuilding ties. That's why I reached out but in the state and the situation I'm in, I can only do so much. If she expects me to cajole her out of her silence because she's "baby girl" which is what her beau (who's still alive, btw. Yes, I didn't kill him or wish him dead when I was cracking under pressure) calls her, she can go fuck herself. That kind of arrogance is the surest path to infanticide. During our talk when I asked her why she hasn't been speaking to me ever since she arrived, she claimed fear instead of pride. Ever since we've cleared the air (or so I thought), she still stonewalled. Now, whether it's fear or it's pride, I don't give a fucking rat's ass.
I entrusted my most precious and dearest with you. Even when we were arguing and I capitulated and even begged you to promise to take care of him, you arrogantly said that you wouldn't promise me that. Then, after all the hoopla, you bring him home to me in a box. You don't know how hard it is to even acknowledge the existence of the person who took so much away from you. And yet, I still tried. So if you feel that it's difficult to make small talk, to share yourself, to try to get past this by opening lines of communication, TRY FUCKING HARDER. You killed my dog. You took from me. YOU TRY FUCKING HARDER. It’s going to take a while because I have nothing left to give now. The only joy that remained in my life, you took away. So you try and you keep at it until the walls come tumbling down. And don’t you dare pretend that all I’ve lost was just a pen. You cry with me. You hold my hand. You grieve with me because you, of all people, knew how much I loved him. And I will forgive you. I will welcome you with open arms and thank the heavens that you’re my sister because that’s what love would do.
You have so much before you that I want to be happy for. I want to but I can’t. Not yet. Not until. Not before.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Spy Sisters
My sisters have been playing detective the past couple of days. This time they found a briefcase hidden in dad's closet and they were able to crack it open. Inside they found two guns, one with seven bullets (his lucky number), several envelopes with a woman's name and an amount written outside. They also found several passbooks and checkbooks. There were cheques written out to 2 suspicious females, one Indian guy and the passbooks amounted to millions. It amazes me how much this guy is hoarding.
Oh yeah, my sister said that inside that briefcase of secrets was a letter from me when I was much younger. It said something like, "Dad, Can you please buy me more clothes for my birthday? I don't need toys anymore because I already have lots of those and I don't know where to put them anymore."
The fact that he kept that letter is sort of sweet. And I'm bewildered myself what happened between then and now for things to have gotten this way between us. I think it started when he got into politics and everyone else became more important to him than me. I mean, that's if you sift the ultimate facts from the chaff, that is. Maybe that's why I hated politics so much. Basically, it took him away from me. So yes, at one point in my life, I was daddy's girl. Then it hurt so much that I had to shut down, shun him out, stop working for his approval which never seemed like it was coming in order to preserve myself.
Then now, this. How sad.
Oh yeah, my sister said that inside that briefcase of secrets was a letter from me when I was much younger. It said something like, "Dad, Can you please buy me more clothes for my birthday? I don't need toys anymore because I already have lots of those and I don't know where to put them anymore."
The fact that he kept that letter is sort of sweet. And I'm bewildered myself what happened between then and now for things to have gotten this way between us. I think it started when he got into politics and everyone else became more important to him than me. I mean, that's if you sift the ultimate facts from the chaff, that is. Maybe that's why I hated politics so much. Basically, it took him away from me. So yes, at one point in my life, I was daddy's girl. Then it hurt so much that I had to shut down, shun him out, stop working for his approval which never seemed like it was coming in order to preserve myself.
Then now, this. How sad.
The Long Wait is Over
GB finally got his ass over here, whewwww!!!!
I still can't fuck anyone else because my Destiny Adviser said that would mess with my karma so after almost 2 months of not getting any (from anyone else, of course, i've had lots of self love), I finally got fucked well and good.
He was supposed to arrive last month but his mom had a stroke and he and his brother had to take turns watching over her. Anyway, he's here now and when we met up, we just went at it. He fucked me from behind, over and over again, deep and slow and then reallllll deep. I was so sore the next day.
I slept over but didn't get much sleep. So we took two days off to "recuperate". In the meantime, my life crashed around me. I found out that my dad has two other families (with kids), that I'm being evicted, and that I need to scoot over to the US for good in about two months. Such a lot of things on my mind that I hardly slept at all. Oh yeah, Friday night I went out with my friends (Jenny's despedida). That was fun but I still feel like an outsider. Typhoon Egay was raging and so Joey and Jerome ended up spending the night in my place since they got stranded by floods and couldn't go home.
Last night, I badly needed company so I scooted over to his hotel room. We didn't have sex but it was, in my opinion, way better. I told him about my concerns while we were spooning with each other and holding hands. He was also tired from working the entire time and he showed me the pics of the mall he was designing and those that he's done in other countries. Oh, during our first night, he showed me pics of his sons and his ex-wife, his house, his car and other stuff.
So the plan was to take a nap and then wake up for some amazing sex but I think we were both tired and needed sleep so just slept together. Then in the middle of the night, he woke up. He started saying something that went like "Earlier on in the evening we were talking about my bearings...." (I was like wha??? what is this guy talking about? is he mistaking me for some other girl he went out with earlier this evening?) "like my boat....", he went on. I still couldn't follow the conversation because I was half asleep and wondering whether or not he was really talking to me or what. I said, "M, are you talking in your sleep?" and he said, "No." Then he said, "I still don't know how to say this properly" and "I don't think I can say it yet".
So I just reassured him that he would eventually figure out how to say it. But *that* kept me awake. So I just went for a bathroom break and when I got out of the bathroom, I said, "M, are you sure you're talking to me? I'm the one who's with you tonight." And he goes, "Yes, I was talking to you (and then he says my name)."
Well, that was strange. I've asked my destiny adviser what it meant and all she told me was to go ask him about it. I have no idea if what he meant to say was good or bad or has nothing to do with our "relationship" at all. He might have been talking about boats for real, for crying out loud. But if he were, what would it be about boats that would be difficult to say? He did say that we would continue meeting so I think you could safely eliminate the "we can't see each other again" sort of conversation. Or maybe it could have been an "I don't want to see anyone seriously" conversation or, on the more positive side, an "i'm beginning to like you" sort of talk. I really don't know but I'll be asking him about it. For one thing, if I don't, this will keep haunting my thoughts, lol.
Okay, I know I have to write that motion for extension of time letter and I've been putting it off. It's like I'm in denial and all I want to do is just sleep and sleep.
I still can't fuck anyone else because my Destiny Adviser said that would mess with my karma so after almost 2 months of not getting any (from anyone else, of course, i've had lots of self love), I finally got fucked well and good.
He was supposed to arrive last month but his mom had a stroke and he and his brother had to take turns watching over her. Anyway, he's here now and when we met up, we just went at it. He fucked me from behind, over and over again, deep and slow and then reallllll deep. I was so sore the next day.
I slept over but didn't get much sleep. So we took two days off to "recuperate". In the meantime, my life crashed around me. I found out that my dad has two other families (with kids), that I'm being evicted, and that I need to scoot over to the US for good in about two months. Such a lot of things on my mind that I hardly slept at all. Oh yeah, Friday night I went out with my friends (Jenny's despedida). That was fun but I still feel like an outsider. Typhoon Egay was raging and so Joey and Jerome ended up spending the night in my place since they got stranded by floods and couldn't go home.
Last night, I badly needed company so I scooted over to his hotel room. We didn't have sex but it was, in my opinion, way better. I told him about my concerns while we were spooning with each other and holding hands. He was also tired from working the entire time and he showed me the pics of the mall he was designing and those that he's done in other countries. Oh, during our first night, he showed me pics of his sons and his ex-wife, his house, his car and other stuff.
So the plan was to take a nap and then wake up for some amazing sex but I think we were both tired and needed sleep so just slept together. Then in the middle of the night, he woke up. He started saying something that went like "Earlier on in the evening we were talking about my bearings...." (I was like wha??? what is this guy talking about? is he mistaking me for some other girl he went out with earlier this evening?) "like my boat....", he went on. I still couldn't follow the conversation because I was half asleep and wondering whether or not he was really talking to me or what. I said, "M, are you talking in your sleep?" and he said, "No." Then he said, "I still don't know how to say this properly" and "I don't think I can say it yet".
So I just reassured him that he would eventually figure out how to say it. But *that* kept me awake. So I just went for a bathroom break and when I got out of the bathroom, I said, "M, are you sure you're talking to me? I'm the one who's with you tonight." And he goes, "Yes, I was talking to you (and then he says my name)."
Well, that was strange. I've asked my destiny adviser what it meant and all she told me was to go ask him about it. I have no idea if what he meant to say was good or bad or has nothing to do with our "relationship" at all. He might have been talking about boats for real, for crying out loud. But if he were, what would it be about boats that would be difficult to say? He did say that we would continue meeting so I think you could safely eliminate the "we can't see each other again" sort of conversation. Or maybe it could have been an "I don't want to see anyone seriously" conversation or, on the more positive side, an "i'm beginning to like you" sort of talk. I really don't know but I'll be asking him about it. For one thing, if I don't, this will keep haunting my thoughts, lol.
Okay, I know I have to write that motion for extension of time letter and I've been putting it off. It's like I'm in denial and all I want to do is just sleep and sleep.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
What the....???
Okay. I don't know why all of a sudden my love life has stopped to a screeching halt. They all just disintegrated into thin air. PK's gone, GB's not responding to my emails and DD...well, that one isn't news, I haven't heard from him in quite a while.
I've been spending time with AT but I don't think he's romantically interested in me. He initially contacted me for tagalog tutorials and me being the nice person that I am, I acquiesced. In turn, I made him my virtual personal trainer. So in between language lessons and my fitness program, we find lots to talk about.
Still and all, I have no idea what happened to these men that I'm rendezvouing with. I was about to fall into another "nothing is going to happen to my love life" depression again when I caught myself in the brink of time and picked myself up before falling into that decrepit hole again. Yes, it does get lonely. Yes, I wish there was someone out there who gave a shit that I existed. Yes, I wish I were a hottie so it would be easier to get men interested in me... but right now, there's no one there. There's only me. And that's who I'll be working on for now.
It's like what they said in CWG, Masters always pick the same thing over and over again. And since I said that this year I would love myself the most, I PICK ME. I LOVE ME. I won't let some inconsiderate oaf make me feel bad about myself. I am beautiful. I am sexy. I am smart. I am witty. I am worthy of love. and... even if I'm not that conscious of it all the time, I AM LOVED. I AM ENOUGH. I just want to be better. Because I want to. For me. And if I see PK again and I am such a hot babe, I will make him drool. And beg for it. But I want him to see me fuck someone else first. Then I'll think about getting it on with him. Ha ha. And if he doesn't want me, who cares? I'll be a hot babe. Everyone will want me. (okay, a bit overboard there... haha)
I AM HAPPY GIRL. So whenever I feel down and out, all I have to do, as said in CWG, is to THINK AGAIN. Change the sponsoring thought. And my sponsoring thought is LOVE. I AM RICH. I AM WEALTHY. I AM BEAUTIFUL. I AM LOVED. Like KK said, I just have to do my time. Everything comes in good time. I am destined for it.
So there, I am changing my thought about being sad that no one's here. Let's see what my destiny adviser will tell me Friday.
I've been spending time with AT but I don't think he's romantically interested in me. He initially contacted me for tagalog tutorials and me being the nice person that I am, I acquiesced. In turn, I made him my virtual personal trainer. So in between language lessons and my fitness program, we find lots to talk about.
Still and all, I have no idea what happened to these men that I'm rendezvouing with. I was about to fall into another "nothing is going to happen to my love life" depression again when I caught myself in the brink of time and picked myself up before falling into that decrepit hole again. Yes, it does get lonely. Yes, I wish there was someone out there who gave a shit that I existed. Yes, I wish I were a hottie so it would be easier to get men interested in me... but right now, there's no one there. There's only me. And that's who I'll be working on for now.
It's like what they said in CWG, Masters always pick the same thing over and over again. And since I said that this year I would love myself the most, I PICK ME. I LOVE ME. I won't let some inconsiderate oaf make me feel bad about myself. I am beautiful. I am sexy. I am smart. I am witty. I am worthy of love. and... even if I'm not that conscious of it all the time, I AM LOVED. I AM ENOUGH. I just want to be better. Because I want to. For me. And if I see PK again and I am such a hot babe, I will make him drool. And beg for it. But I want him to see me fuck someone else first. Then I'll think about getting it on with him. Ha ha. And if he doesn't want me, who cares? I'll be a hot babe. Everyone will want me. (okay, a bit overboard there... haha)
I AM HAPPY GIRL. So whenever I feel down and out, all I have to do, as said in CWG, is to THINK AGAIN. Change the sponsoring thought. And my sponsoring thought is LOVE. I AM RICH. I AM WEALTHY. I AM BEAUTIFUL. I AM LOVED. Like KK said, I just have to do my time. Everything comes in good time. I am destined for it.
So there, I am changing my thought about being sad that no one's here. Let's see what my destiny adviser will tell me Friday.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
The Bell Jar
It sucks being alone. It's even worse when you feel sick or there's something wrong with you and you have no one to turn to for help. Even worse than that is when you tell the people around you that you think something's wrong and no one gives a shit.
I've been having intermittent pain in my lower right abdomen since last night. I thought it was a glitch so I ignored it but it's been reminding me about its existence every so often that if my tummy was any bigger than it is right now, i'd mistake them for labor contractions. So I just got back from Carlo's bday lunch and Die Hard 4.0 and i'd like to rest for a bit before I start working. Yeah, deadline again.
Oh, and another thing. Today I wanted to die.
I don't know if my pain is psychosomatic and is a manifestation of my emotional state but it seems that way. The last time my ovaries acted up, I was in the middle of a nervous breakdown. I'm not there yet but I think i'm getting there. This is the time when you begin to understand why love or the lack of it brings all sorts of tragedies.
To sum it all up, I am in love with PK who will never love me back. My other prospects are missing in action save for the newest one, Ashton. DD is MIA, GB is MIA too. PK has another girl. So i'm left all alone again. That's sad.
I'd like to see my destiny adviser again to get a wee bit of hope if there is some over the horizon but I also have a bone to pick with her. Every time she tells me something, I'm filled with hope, excitement, radiating with expected joy and the anticipation of happiness and I end up following her advice then it doesn't pan out. And I become a useless deflated balloon again. It's tiring and I can't take it anymore.
I think meeting PK really was my karma. If he is like my dad, then he is a negative influence on me. Look where I am right now? I've never felt this hopeless and despondent. And I know that even if I am, the world doesn't feel the same. It will still keep on turning whatever happens to me.
I know all the rah rah phrases -- claim your destiny. If you come across a bump in the road and you think you won't come across the love, happiness and success that you deserve, think again. The end is assured. I know all that but today they just ring hollow for me. I'm going to lie down after this and think whether waking up is a good idea.
I also need to see my Destiny Adviser and ask her the million dollar question that may be against her interest to answer me honestly: Is constantly seeing her changing my destiny?
To be honest with you, I'm starting to feel like a failure. It's not a good feeling at all.
I've been having intermittent pain in my lower right abdomen since last night. I thought it was a glitch so I ignored it but it's been reminding me about its existence every so often that if my tummy was any bigger than it is right now, i'd mistake them for labor contractions. So I just got back from Carlo's bday lunch and Die Hard 4.0 and i'd like to rest for a bit before I start working. Yeah, deadline again.
Oh, and another thing. Today I wanted to die.
I don't know if my pain is psychosomatic and is a manifestation of my emotional state but it seems that way. The last time my ovaries acted up, I was in the middle of a nervous breakdown. I'm not there yet but I think i'm getting there. This is the time when you begin to understand why love or the lack of it brings all sorts of tragedies.
To sum it all up, I am in love with PK who will never love me back. My other prospects are missing in action save for the newest one, Ashton. DD is MIA, GB is MIA too. PK has another girl. So i'm left all alone again. That's sad.
I'd like to see my destiny adviser again to get a wee bit of hope if there is some over the horizon but I also have a bone to pick with her. Every time she tells me something, I'm filled with hope, excitement, radiating with expected joy and the anticipation of happiness and I end up following her advice then it doesn't pan out. And I become a useless deflated balloon again. It's tiring and I can't take it anymore.
I think meeting PK really was my karma. If he is like my dad, then he is a negative influence on me. Look where I am right now? I've never felt this hopeless and despondent. And I know that even if I am, the world doesn't feel the same. It will still keep on turning whatever happens to me.
I know all the rah rah phrases -- claim your destiny. If you come across a bump in the road and you think you won't come across the love, happiness and success that you deserve, think again. The end is assured. I know all that but today they just ring hollow for me. I'm going to lie down after this and think whether waking up is a good idea.
I also need to see my Destiny Adviser and ask her the million dollar question that may be against her interest to answer me honestly: Is constantly seeing her changing my destiny?
To be honest with you, I'm starting to feel like a failure. It's not a good feeling at all.
Profiling
Very enlightening day, really. I have a new friend I am in a "chat-ship" with (he coined the term, the word was alien to me before this) and in the process of getting-to-know you, I was trying to explain how my relationship with my dad affected my present relationships.
He kept on saying that I would eventually want someone who was like my dad. I said, I hardly like my dad, why would I want to end up with someone like him?
Well, the conversation went this way and that and while I was having a marathon session of Criminal Minds on DVD, I looked at the guy I was most attracted to and cross referenced that with characteristics of my dad. Very interesting findings. Of course, lover was my primary subject. And on the outset, he would seem like the total opposite of my dad but the fundamentals were pretty much the same.
He kept on saying that I would eventually want someone who was like my dad. I said, I hardly like my dad, why would I want to end up with someone like him?
Well, the conversation went this way and that and while I was having a marathon session of Criminal Minds on DVD, I looked at the guy I was most attracted to and cross referenced that with characteristics of my dad. Very interesting findings. Of course, lover was my primary subject. And on the outset, he would seem like the total opposite of my dad but the fundamentals were pretty much the same.
- With PK, I never know if he loves me at all.
- With PK, I have no assurances that I am enough.
- With PK, he wants me to follow him without question.
- With PK, he just wants me to be there, present, even if he does not have plans for/about me.
- Just like my dad, PK has no concept of time and no respect for my time or anybody else's time. He does what he wants and expects everyone else to adjust.
- Just like my dad, PK expects you to be happy with what you give him. No whining. No complaining or it will be construed as a lack of trust.
- Just like my dad, he likes orderly surroundings
- Just like my dad, he always wants me to remember my place (which is below him). IOW, he demands deference.
- Just like my dad, he is addicted to approval of others. Except that with my dad, it was public appreciation and adulation. With PK, he needs other women to worship his cock.
- Here's the kicker though -- he is just as selfish as my dad.
This different perspective on PK is certainly an eye opener. If he's like my dad, and I don't have a good relationship with my dad, this really won't work out between us. So given my seduction goal, I have to do a bit of profiling. My dad's favorite daughter is my third sister. Of course, his relationship with my mom plays in this also.
As for my sister, she's the only one that my dad can really talk to (well, before she got really pissed off at him). She's obedient. She defended him all the time. She supported whatever he did. She was malambing to him, always asking permission and approval. This compared to me who has always been at loggerheads with my dad. (I won't do what he asks simply because he asked me to).
As for my mom, she always listens to him and does not put him down. She has everything prepared for him, making sure that he comes home to something nice. She doesn't contradict him but just accepts what he says but remedies it later on by scheming that is unknown to my dad.
So how is this information going to be useful for me? Notes to self:
- be available whenever he needs me. And this means not taking it personally whenever he disappears. I just have to be there when he's there.
- do not talk about other guys. he is the ONLY guy. (well, at least do not talk about your feelings with other guys, just relate the fuck sessions i have with other guys because he asked me to)
- do not question what he wants for me. TRUST HIM.
- do not question what he is doing outside the time he spends with me. He will find his way back.
- be happy with whatever he gives you. do not complain or ask for more. Just be appreciative and grateful
- since he is like my dad, do not expect him to come running after me. Just take initiative all the time. He will like that.
- since he is like my dad, I should not expect him to be maasikaso or thoughtful or romantic (heck, my dad forgets my mom's bday sometimes) but I shouldn't construe that as he doesn't love me or isn't proud of me (I remember when I passed the bar, I totally forgot he was connect with the SC and he got the results ahead of time). He probably won't let me know directly but will talk to others about me.
- I should be submissive. And obedient. And just shut up sometimes like my mom tells me to. Just agree with him all the time.
- Never embarass him or put him down in front of other people. IOW, think the best of him all the time.
- I can do what I want until he states a preference because his preference becomes mine.
- LOYALTY is highly valued.
- DO NOT BE DEFENSIVE.
Okay. That's it for now.
Friday, July 06, 2007
How Dare He
A couple of days ago, I talked to my lover and in the middle of the conversation I told him that I finally figured out that he was my karma.
He said that he was telling me that long before but I didn't believe him. I said, "No, no. You said it was my destiny to meet you." I said, "Are you saying that you're my destiny and my karma?"
And he said, "Yes."
My retort? I said that I'd only figured out the karma part for now.
You know, I don't know if he thinks this destiny stuff is joke for me or not. Frankly, I thought he would have forgotten our conversation before about him being my destiny. When we had that conversation, I sort of told him that I didn't think he was my destiny. Only part of it. I was hoping he'd have forgotten that. Apprently, he didn't. Hmmm. Okay, so he remembers I was an unbeliever, haha.
Still and all, how dare he claim that he is my destiny? Especially when he very well knows that I love him and that he won't do anything about that? There should be punishment for words like that that are let go so lightly. I think it's cruel.
Besides, don't those things have to converge? How can he be my destiny and I not be his destiny at the same time? I don't really understand it.
Humor me, will ya? I must have been one bad motherfucker in my past life if I am destined to end up with someone who loves himself more than me, who will constantly minimize and shatter my fragile ego and self-esteem, who will not go the distance for me, not call me on my birthday, yadayadayada.
He said that he was telling me that long before but I didn't believe him. I said, "No, no. You said it was my destiny to meet you." I said, "Are you saying that you're my destiny and my karma?"
And he said, "Yes."
My retort? I said that I'd only figured out the karma part for now.
You know, I don't know if he thinks this destiny stuff is joke for me or not. Frankly, I thought he would have forgotten our conversation before about him being my destiny. When we had that conversation, I sort of told him that I didn't think he was my destiny. Only part of it. I was hoping he'd have forgotten that. Apprently, he didn't. Hmmm. Okay, so he remembers I was an unbeliever, haha.
Still and all, how dare he claim that he is my destiny? Especially when he very well knows that I love him and that he won't do anything about that? There should be punishment for words like that that are let go so lightly. I think it's cruel.
Besides, don't those things have to converge? How can he be my destiny and I not be his destiny at the same time? I don't really understand it.
Humor me, will ya? I must have been one bad motherfucker in my past life if I am destined to end up with someone who loves himself more than me, who will constantly minimize and shatter my fragile ego and self-esteem, who will not go the distance for me, not call me on my birthday, yadayadayada.
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