sex

I have sex. Like most people in my community. This poses a big risk to my health. I've been self destructive lately in the sense that I expose myself to infection. I'm hoping I'm not THAT unlucky. We'll know in a few days to a few weeks to a few months.... until then, I'll worry.

I realized that 3-somes can be very convenient. One person can fulfill the needs of the other that the other cannot. It works for all participants. The critical factor is that everyone has to like everyone else and that every minimum desire is fulfilled. It is quite a magical thing when everyone's expectations are met and exceeded. It could be the same for 4-somes and maybe 5-somes... more people will make the setup unwieldy. More factors will be at work and one bad thing can cost the enjoyment of all participants.

I've been to organized orgies. They're more exciting in theory than in practice. Mostly, it's just tiring. The enjoyment comes when you meet one or two really nice guys who also really like you back and you have a great time amongst yourselves. It's not a matter of attitude but a matter of real estate. One can only kiss another pair of lips fully, 3 can share a kiss but 4 is laughable. A guy has only one thingy, which he can only use with one orifice or share with a few tongues. One mouth, one hole, two hands and definintely, one body. My point is: what's the point of having an orgy?? I don't understand it.

In the end, it's still best with one other person who has your full attention, whose attention is on you the whole time. Where art thou, O Romeo?

Broken

It's such a cliche to have a really terrible time in your life when Murphy's Law takes over. My car's flat. The new 2nd-hand spare is flat. My cellphone, dropped for the Nth time, finally gave up and gave out on me. I have a spare old school Nokia 3110 with no charger. I have tartar and my gums are swollen. I've recently been dumped for someone else, for the first time. What a shitty moment.

On the bright side, I do have a car. I have phone credits and I have money to have my phone repaired. The phone was given to me by my dad as a Christmas gift more than a year ago. I have friends who still know my landline number. And most of all, I'm still hot.... which doesn't really amount to anything if I don't have anyone who thinks I'm hot as well.

I'm in love with love. Should I stop? What's the remedy to a lifetime overdose of hollywood happy endings??

I'm happy, I'm sorry.

There comes a time in your life when you feel... in equilibrium? balanced? secure? It's like there's a lot of good things happening and you're not afraid that it will be taken away from you,AND, there are also bad things around you but you know that you can deal with them. It's a certain kind of peace that you know you've done something good with your life no matter how many mistakes you've made as well.

I think I've been given the best compliment anyone I know can EVER give me in my lifetime. A good friend of mine who I rarely see these days adpoted a baby sometime ago. This friend, adores this child as their own. The little angel has given my friend a spark in life, a chance to create a fresh start.

Sometime ago, this friend chatted me up online and was giving me good news about some weight loss from regular exercise. I was really happy to hear about the new health efforts and then I asked about their baby. There was the usual developmental updates. And, then I was taken aback with what I read on my screen, "I want him to be as relaxed and as happy as you. You have the personality that I want for him." (Verbatim; cut and pasted from my messenger archives.)

I wanted to roll on the floor laughing and bawl my eyes out. But, what I did was, I stared at the screen blinking, looked from the keyboard and back to the screen, reread the text and then remembered to breathe. It was a heavy blow to my ego, a blow up to the skies, rocketing to the next universe if not the next dimension. I wanted to exile myself in the internal worlds of a blackhole and die with the great honor of being branded as a happy person. But, not the greatest honor, that's when you make others happy as well. But, then again, I'm trying to do that now. :) So I have to stay in this world for the mean time.

I meant this entry to be posted in my other blog but I realized that being happy is shameful. Most people ARE happy, they just don't know it. So they think they're sad. And, if they weren't nurtured to be strong in their individuality and loneliness, they will definitely feel worse when they read about the essence of joy that they don't realize they have.

Yes, I am guilty of being happy. My apologies.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

I live a contrary life.

I'm a happy sunshiney person with enough contrived cynicism and pop irony to be generally regarded as someone "with a good sense of humor." I can get along with just about any kind of people in my society if I wanted to. And, most of the time I do want to get along. But, some not-so-secret part of me, that part who can only come out as a punchline to some cultural absurdity, that part is real. It's a monster that has no real place in the world. It's a beautiful creature that can only be understood if you did not see its ugly face or hear its ugly voice or smell its ugly breath. Its beauty is only revealed in the truth it notices as I wriggle and writhe in the glory of the beast within me.

It is the purest of animals that has observed the life of someone who just wanted to be happy and make others happy. And, yes, I have become happy, joyfully happy. I have also made others happy, dream-fulfillingly happy. BUT, also, I've found pain and sowed pain as well. I don't have a secret life, but I do have secret thoughts regarding my open-secrets.

For instance, I would like to announce to this virtual universe that I am gay. It's not a secret, but it's not really stamped on my forehead and I don't go around prancing my butt around town announcing that I am to anyone I come across. I love being gay and I'm glad I'm gay. I didn't always feel this way and there was a time I called it my "deep sadness." Now, I've been out for more than 12 years and I honestly do not remember how it feels to be in the closet, to be afraid of being found out, of actually caring who found out, and if they actually found out or not. I just don't care about it anymore. More precisely, it doesn't matter because it's a non-issue.

NOW, this beast, ME that just wants to kill all the dog-lovers in the world, wants my gayness to be an issue. I do want to prance around telling everyone I'm gay. I want to wave that rainbow flag in their faces. I want to grab all the bullies by their collars and ask them if they had a problem with it. Punch them in the face and then rape them until they enjoy it. They will enjoy or I won't stop. I will make them enjoy it and they will accept me into their society damn them. I'm gay and they enjoyed being gay with me just for a time. And, don't they ever forget it... EVER!

My analytical mind is thinking I just need acknowledgement and acceptance and security. And, world peace for crying out loud. Can't I just rage against society without being judged? The fact is, I can't. And, that's why I have this blog. It's anonymous and safe. I can say whatever I want as long as I don't break the corporate rules. There's no morality issue on the Net. There's only bandwidth and money. And, don't forget copyright.

So there. I don't believe in Jessica Zafra and what she represents but I'm gathering all my "Twisted" moments into this pimple of a blog. I hate emo music and I hate emo boys, but this blog will sure feel like it will fit right in their crowd. I hate it already. This blog will recognize that Alanis Morisette spoke truth and was glorified by it. And I will admit that I did like her music and I actually still do.

But, unlike a lot of the ugliness that pervades in society, this blog, this monster, this part of me that I can't expose to the world as much as I would really like to... it knows of beauty and it knows what's good in man, in society, in me, in itself.

And, the beauty it sees, I can use.