The island of Alcatraz. A prison that had the best security system in the world. Who knew that if you built something on an island surrounded by freezing cold water and sharks, there would be little to no survivors that tried to escape. They would either be eaten, poached by the guards out on the sea, or freeze their ass off trying to get away. No one was able to escape Alcatraz. They were all recaptured. But like this prison in the middle of the Gay Mecca of the World, my heart is set up in this manner also.
After my dark rage day on Friday, it really got me thinking about my life. I was mad because I was not happy where I was, and the fact that people keep doing shit behind my back and getting away with it, only to confess to me after the storm had calmed down. I know it's the courteous thing to do. Not telling your boyfriend that you found someone else was a hard thing for me to tackle too, but you get over what's courteous and do what's right. Either way, they are going to get hurt, so might want to euthanize before it will get any worse between you two. And DO NOT do it on the phone either, that's fucking lame and totally chicken. If there is one thing I will never forgive Jeff for is that he broke up with me over the phone when he was thinking about breaking up for two weeks. So after that dark rage, I decided to not allow anyone in. Close up the candy shop until the renovation is over. But right in the middle of my remodeling period, there is a guy knocking on the door to my heart that wants to get in. I want to open it up and see if it is someone that I can trust, or if it is another Jehovah's Witness hounding me.
His name is Jose, a guy that I met on Monday. I am not saying he's a bad guy, he is extremely caring. He has been single for two and a half years after his last one ended horribly. He is extremely passionate when it comes to the person that he's interested in (and a REALLY good kisser too!).
After meeting him at the mall on Monday and hanging out all night until 5am the next morning with him, he is already "sprung" over me. He was telling me that he "has not felt like this about anyone in so long..." and that "I am so hot that I can have any guy...." I like accepting compliments, it helps to keep me humble. The one thing that I don't like about any of this is how fast this guy is working. Within an hour, he had figured I was already at the point in the date that he could hug me from behind. I barely knew this guy and he was already trying to knock. My guard has never been up so high in my life.
I do not want to get hurt again. The last time I opened myself up to someone, they ended up disappearing on me and found them at Rich's a couple of days later (see blog: Evolutions (part 4): Botulism). Then after hanging out with him after turned out to be hard because I started finding out other things...bottom line: not fun. Now, I have a guy that really is head over heels with me and I have no interest in dating anyone right now.
It is just weird how eerie my life is changing. Evolution has taken hold in my life to the point where, as mentioned in my earlier blogs, I am starting to see facets of myself everywhere. Jose is becoming me when Jeff and I were dating (except I was more shy but still cute). Jeff is becoming me when he told me that Joel and him got back together. He is hopeful of starting over but a little hesitating to starting over after the pain that was done. My lesbian friend is afraid of going out and meeting by herself because she is so used to being in company with other people.
But this boy, Jose, just has gotten me so confused. A part of me wants to open up the doors to Alcatraz and let the crazies go free and see where it goes; at the same time, I have the other side of me that is so jaded by the fact of dating that I enjoy the adventures I encounter single. The other part of the equation that I just don't understand is that I am leaving to LA to start my writing career. Why would I fall in love with someone down here when I am going to be leaving in a couple of months? I am afraid that if I commit to opening my heart to him and we end up going out, that I might sacrifice my career for someone. If it doesn't work out and we break up, I will be blaming him for alot of things. A part of my identity that I do know for a fact is that the moment that I commit to something/someone and it burns down, I blame them for making me sacrifice my choices just so I could be happy with someone.
If there are things that I could change about him it would consists of some simple modifications. I really want him to stop being so pushy in seeing me again. He has been calling me every single night regarding when we are hanging out. Don't get me wrong, I like hanging out with him and all, it's just that I want my space right now. I don't want to move too fast and that is exactly what he's doing.
I want to change his taste in music. He likes Celine Dion. Granted her Grammy Nominated Album Falling into You was really good, everything else about her music just turns me off (except some of her older songs like The Power of Love were amazing too). Then his taste in movies and television shows. This guy is just screaming for a makeover in that area. Another thing are his tattoos. I really don't like tatoos on a guy. They are tacky and stay on you for the rest of your life. Not only that, but every trendy kid out there is getting one...get over it. Grab a sharpee and go to town.
The entanglements of love can be so complicated sometimes. I want so much for my life, but I would rather have a great-paying career than be in love right now. I need to move to LA. I am getting tired of living in the country. A couple hours ago, some kids in a car threw eggs at me and screamed "fuck you faggot!" while I was on the phone with Jose. Never before have I been hated like that before, it was really scary. I just hope that the decision I make will help me and that I won't get hurt. because I really can't afford to get hurt again for a while.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Step One: The Job
Out of the darkness...into the light...it takes one step to cross over. Now don't think that I am planning on being overly religions and going straight because that is not what is in this gay agenda; I am moving from somewhere so dark and full of pain and transitioning into being a man and dealing with my problems head on (not to mention, shedding a tear of frustration or two.)....it takes one step.
Sometimes, we are faced with so much weight within that one step that it makes it nearly impossible to "wiggle [our] big toe"; yet, once you learn to let go, it can be made possible. I am really surprised that I have the ability to write like I am writing for a tract.
Once again, I am not talking about declaring my newfound love for Jesus Christ, because that's been there. What I am mainly talking about is how different things are right now. Let me just begin with the less complicated one: I got a job. I will be a stocker at Costco Warehouse Sales. I understand that you are disappointed that a man with a Bachelor's degree would be getting all moist over an eleven dollar an hour job; but you need to consider this: the film market down here fucking sucks.
There is a series that is being shot in Ocean Beach called "The Ex List," and I wasn't even considered for the role in spite of my experience! Then there are those measley reality shows that are looking for actors or PA jobs. No matter how many times I submit a resume, nothing is offered.
Hence, I applied for any opening job after I quit with The Wave Waterpark. I was supposed to be working as a salesman, but they never called me back after I left multiple messages. For six weeks, I have been unemployed, then I applied for Costco. Three annoying interviews later, I was offered the job. I swear, the scariest part of that entire process was the drug test. I had stare at two strips that had my saliva on it and pray that stripes show up under the test. I felt like a girl that is Late and takes the Test, hoping and praying for that Minus Sign! Once the stripes showed up, I was relieved. I don't do drugs, but you never know what they put in those drink these days. Once I got the welcome sentence: "Welcome to the team," I swear I almost broke out into dance.
I'm pretty sure I will hate it in about two weeks; and that I will look as lame as those people that were in the break room today. But I will make it look good. Because if there is anyone that can rock the boat, it's me. Sorry to brag...but seriously, it's the truth.
Sometimes, we are faced with so much weight within that one step that it makes it nearly impossible to "wiggle [our] big toe"; yet, once you learn to let go, it can be made possible. I am really surprised that I have the ability to write like I am writing for a tract.
Once again, I am not talking about declaring my newfound love for Jesus Christ, because that's been there. What I am mainly talking about is how different things are right now. Let me just begin with the less complicated one: I got a job. I will be a stocker at Costco Warehouse Sales. I understand that you are disappointed that a man with a Bachelor's degree would be getting all moist over an eleven dollar an hour job; but you need to consider this: the film market down here fucking sucks.
There is a series that is being shot in Ocean Beach called "The Ex List," and I wasn't even considered for the role in spite of my experience! Then there are those measley reality shows that are looking for actors or PA jobs. No matter how many times I submit a resume, nothing is offered.
Hence, I applied for any opening job after I quit with The Wave Waterpark. I was supposed to be working as a salesman, but they never called me back after I left multiple messages. For six weeks, I have been unemployed, then I applied for Costco. Three annoying interviews later, I was offered the job. I swear, the scariest part of that entire process was the drug test. I had stare at two strips that had my saliva on it and pray that stripes show up under the test. I felt like a girl that is Late and takes the Test, hoping and praying for that Minus Sign! Once the stripes showed up, I was relieved. I don't do drugs, but you never know what they put in those drink these days. Once I got the welcome sentence: "Welcome to the team," I swear I almost broke out into dance.
I'm pretty sure I will hate it in about two weeks; and that I will look as lame as those people that were in the break room today. But I will make it look good. Because if there is anyone that can rock the boat, it's me. Sorry to brag...but seriously, it's the truth.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Hot Mess
In my favorite TV series of all time, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy's best friend Willow turns evil. This is the result of Buffy's enemy and former classmate, Warren, arriving at Buffy's house with a gun and opening fire, shooting Willow's girlfriend with a stray bullet. When Willow's girlfriend dies, she changes from being good into a very powerful witch that comes very close to destroying the world.
Today is the last day of summer. Tomorrow begins the season of fall, when things that became alive and flourishing full of life with the previous season now begin to go into self-preservation. Looking back at my summer, I have discovered several things. It's amazing what 3 months being a post-graduate can do to you. However, in spite of me learning a great deal of things about growing up, I have learned one thing: The dark side of me is powerful. I may not be as bad as Dark Willow, but the way that I am when I am like this, is definitely Diary of a Mad Black Woman status.
This summer has been about extreme maturing growth as an individual, experiencing disappointment within relationships, and understanding that life needs to be handled on a day-to-day basis. It seemed like with the passing of everyday, there was a new drama that began to take hold on my life. Sure, it's good for a story, but having to deal with it while trying to keep a smile on your face at the same time can be...complicated. However, what happened to me this weekend was something that I never do.
Normally, I am able to keep my cool when it comes to people telling me things involving my relationship with them. I was able to keep myself leveled when Jeff tells me things about us that drive him nuts; I was able to handle the pressure of being yelled at by my boss when she wanted to talk about how I was running the camp; and I was able to execute professionalism and class when dealing with my unemployment crisis. But, the moment I left Robert's house, a part within me snapped. Something dark awoke within me and put my good side into a comatose state for the night. I was burning with rage, and all I wanted to do was destroy. It really wasn't Robert's fault that made me like this, but it was resulting from everything else.
Robert and I are done. I closed that door the day that I broke up with him. We agreed to be friends and just have fun. We still enjoy each other's company, except without sex. Sure, we fooled around a couple times; but who hasn't slept with an ex? Anyways, he was feeling sick, his excuse was because his new boyfriend was in Japan for 6 months. He was lonely and wanted me to hang out with him. Since I am unemployed and have nothing else going on within my agenda, I decided to pay him a visit.
He was sitting at the front porch when I brought him a smoothie to help him feel better. I wanted to see how he was doing and also wanted to hear about this new boy. As he was talking and glowing about this guy, I began to notice pieces of his story that raised problems with me: they were conflicting with our relationship time table. While listening to him, I began to piece parts of my story where he was not there with pieces of his story of his new boy; to my surprise: they fit perfectly. Then I brought up the question to him while we were talking: "When you disappeared that week you and I were together, were you seeing this guy?" I got a yes.
But that didn't hurt me, it's what he said after that did:
"I wanted to tell you. I wanted to be honest with you, because you are a great guy and I love hanging out with you. It's just that I didn't want to hurt your feelings because you are a nice guy." These were the words that made me snap.
I am fed up with being fed a lie because I am a good person. I hate being let down easy because it would hurt to hear the truth. I am sick and tired of having people be so Goddamn sensitive of my feelings. I appreciate a person that will tell me the truth to my face than to have a person that will find an easy way of disappointing me. People do this to me all the time. All they see in me is how good of a person that I am. They fear that if they tell me something hurtful that I will just change the way I am because they were such a good friend in telling it to me nicely.
As I got into the car when I left Robert's house 45 minutes later and began to drive into the city, I could feel the good side of me fade away and rage and dark side burning brightly within me. I began to dwell on the idea that I am fed up with being a good person, always doing the right thing, and for having a conscience. I began to experiment with the thought of what it would be like to not live with that. To just "do what thou whilt." Then suddenly, I let go of everything good and became a completely different person, a person filled with rage, anger and pain. I wanted people to feel my pain. My pain of what I have experienced this past lifetime. I wanted others to go through what I go through, I wanted people to just experience pain....my pain.
Clubs that night...I was a hot mess. My mind was set under this rage. The music was bumping, hips were grinding, hot bodies were stripping, and Pablo was set on destroying. While dancing, this one guy was watching me dance, I told him to come over and dance with me, he pointed to his boyfriend, I gave him a look that said: "and your point is...." Not really caring about his prior commitments.
Later that night, I met this one guy and was dancing with him. I wasn't interested in him, but I figured that I would just give him the run-around, anyway. His friend was trying to dance with me, but I gave him a look that would make even puppies whimper. We were dancing and he reaches in my pants and starts to go exploring. However, the bouncers didn't really enjoy the sight and had us kicked out. I was angry at the time, but deep down, I was proud of doing something bad.
Enraged, I went to another club to continue my roaring rampage, telling my victim that if he really wants to have fun to come to this lesbian club with me. He told me he was going to go, but had to wait on his friend. I left to the other club. However, I didn't go, but waited outside pf it and watched them go inside, I walked away from the club, got in my car, and headed home.
Maybe it was because I was fed up with being good, always being the made the example for everyone's flawed morals; or maybe it was because I was really hurt by people treating me bad that I just wanted to do the same on another person, but when I calmed my inner rage down and brought the good back, I began to realize that I am just not happy where I am right now. I am a hot mess and really need to work on fixing myself and find something happy and clinging to it.
What do I have to show for my rage? Bad karma, depression, and loneliness. Enemies and evil characters in stories do most of their deeds alone and find themselves destroyed alot quicker than most heroes.
Earlier tonight, I called my friend upset at what I did this weekend and just upset on why my life is not progressing after graduating with a degree, being unemployed, and not really having a place to call home, and not really having anything to show for my hard work. My rage was coming from being treated like a good kid, from not going anywhere with my life, tired of being treated like a kid when it comes to the truth, and overall not being happy anywhere I go.
I just want things to progress for me; however, right now I feel like I spend too much time hoping for a miracle to arrive when nothing never comes along. I am tired of hoping. I want something real to keep me going, none of this fairy-tale bullshit of "someday, my prince will come." I want to be treated like an adult and be given the R-rated truth than facing the G-rated lie. But like Willow, I wanted them to feel my pain; however, being hell-bent on treating every person like shit is not going to help me. Even though some deserve it....kidding...
Today is the last day of summer. Tomorrow begins the season of fall, when things that became alive and flourishing full of life with the previous season now begin to go into self-preservation. Looking back at my summer, I have discovered several things. It's amazing what 3 months being a post-graduate can do to you. However, in spite of me learning a great deal of things about growing up, I have learned one thing: The dark side of me is powerful. I may not be as bad as Dark Willow, but the way that I am when I am like this, is definitely Diary of a Mad Black Woman status.
This summer has been about extreme maturing growth as an individual, experiencing disappointment within relationships, and understanding that life needs to be handled on a day-to-day basis. It seemed like with the passing of everyday, there was a new drama that began to take hold on my life. Sure, it's good for a story, but having to deal with it while trying to keep a smile on your face at the same time can be...complicated. However, what happened to me this weekend was something that I never do.
Normally, I am able to keep my cool when it comes to people telling me things involving my relationship with them. I was able to keep myself leveled when Jeff tells me things about us that drive him nuts; I was able to handle the pressure of being yelled at by my boss when she wanted to talk about how I was running the camp; and I was able to execute professionalism and class when dealing with my unemployment crisis. But, the moment I left Robert's house, a part within me snapped. Something dark awoke within me and put my good side into a comatose state for the night. I was burning with rage, and all I wanted to do was destroy. It really wasn't Robert's fault that made me like this, but it was resulting from everything else.
Robert and I are done. I closed that door the day that I broke up with him. We agreed to be friends and just have fun. We still enjoy each other's company, except without sex. Sure, we fooled around a couple times; but who hasn't slept with an ex? Anyways, he was feeling sick, his excuse was because his new boyfriend was in Japan for 6 months. He was lonely and wanted me to hang out with him. Since I am unemployed and have nothing else going on within my agenda, I decided to pay him a visit.
He was sitting at the front porch when I brought him a smoothie to help him feel better. I wanted to see how he was doing and also wanted to hear about this new boy. As he was talking and glowing about this guy, I began to notice pieces of his story that raised problems with me: they were conflicting with our relationship time table. While listening to him, I began to piece parts of my story where he was not there with pieces of his story of his new boy; to my surprise: they fit perfectly. Then I brought up the question to him while we were talking: "When you disappeared that week you and I were together, were you seeing this guy?" I got a yes.
But that didn't hurt me, it's what he said after that did:
"I wanted to tell you. I wanted to be honest with you, because you are a great guy and I love hanging out with you. It's just that I didn't want to hurt your feelings because you are a nice guy." These were the words that made me snap.
I am fed up with being fed a lie because I am a good person. I hate being let down easy because it would hurt to hear the truth. I am sick and tired of having people be so Goddamn sensitive of my feelings. I appreciate a person that will tell me the truth to my face than to have a person that will find an easy way of disappointing me. People do this to me all the time. All they see in me is how good of a person that I am. They fear that if they tell me something hurtful that I will just change the way I am because they were such a good friend in telling it to me nicely.
As I got into the car when I left Robert's house 45 minutes later and began to drive into the city, I could feel the good side of me fade away and rage and dark side burning brightly within me. I began to dwell on the idea that I am fed up with being a good person, always doing the right thing, and for having a conscience. I began to experiment with the thought of what it would be like to not live with that. To just "do what thou whilt." Then suddenly, I let go of everything good and became a completely different person, a person filled with rage, anger and pain. I wanted people to feel my pain. My pain of what I have experienced this past lifetime. I wanted others to go through what I go through, I wanted people to just experience pain....my pain.
Clubs that night...I was a hot mess. My mind was set under this rage. The music was bumping, hips were grinding, hot bodies were stripping, and Pablo was set on destroying. While dancing, this one guy was watching me dance, I told him to come over and dance with me, he pointed to his boyfriend, I gave him a look that said: "and your point is...." Not really caring about his prior commitments.
Later that night, I met this one guy and was dancing with him. I wasn't interested in him, but I figured that I would just give him the run-around, anyway. His friend was trying to dance with me, but I gave him a look that would make even puppies whimper. We were dancing and he reaches in my pants and starts to go exploring. However, the bouncers didn't really enjoy the sight and had us kicked out. I was angry at the time, but deep down, I was proud of doing something bad.
Enraged, I went to another club to continue my roaring rampage, telling my victim that if he really wants to have fun to come to this lesbian club with me. He told me he was going to go, but had to wait on his friend. I left to the other club. However, I didn't go, but waited outside pf it and watched them go inside, I walked away from the club, got in my car, and headed home.
Maybe it was because I was fed up with being good, always being the made the example for everyone's flawed morals; or maybe it was because I was really hurt by people treating me bad that I just wanted to do the same on another person, but when I calmed my inner rage down and brought the good back, I began to realize that I am just not happy where I am right now. I am a hot mess and really need to work on fixing myself and find something happy and clinging to it.
What do I have to show for my rage? Bad karma, depression, and loneliness. Enemies and evil characters in stories do most of their deeds alone and find themselves destroyed alot quicker than most heroes.
Earlier tonight, I called my friend upset at what I did this weekend and just upset on why my life is not progressing after graduating with a degree, being unemployed, and not really having a place to call home, and not really having anything to show for my hard work. My rage was coming from being treated like a good kid, from not going anywhere with my life, tired of being treated like a kid when it comes to the truth, and overall not being happy anywhere I go.
I just want things to progress for me; however, right now I feel like I spend too much time hoping for a miracle to arrive when nothing never comes along. I am tired of hoping. I want something real to keep me going, none of this fairy-tale bullshit of "someday, my prince will come." I want to be treated like an adult and be given the R-rated truth than facing the G-rated lie. But like Willow, I wanted them to feel my pain; however, being hell-bent on treating every person like shit is not going to help me. Even though some deserve it....kidding...
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Unreality
Alice, the famous character in Lewis Carrols acid-endosed classic, finds curiosity so intriguing that she has to push herself deeper and deeper into a world of the bizarre. In the not-so-celebrated sequel, Alice finds herself going through a looking-glass and entering Wonderland again, where things become more fucked up than the last time.
But I am sure you don't want to be lectured on the plot analysis of Lewis Carrol's story. That's not important to y'all. What is important is when the girl crosses over into the mirror world, everything is not what it seems. Inanimate objects become alive, everything turns opposite on her in a matter of moments.
Since I have made the initiative to not take myself seriously, my life becomes more interesting. I have turned from being a bitter person that licks his own wounds into a person that just finds fun. Letting go of some of my inhibitions and reservations for one guy and allowing fate to take control of my life. Sometimes, I let my old self take over, but standing up for myself is more fun and makes for a better story. However, I feel like for some reason I have crossed so far into this new world, that I am beginning to see reflections of my old self everywhere.
Light travels at a speed of 299, 792, 458 meters per second (by the way, don't hate on the meters per second. Google gave me that number and I am too tired to look it up!) Staring at a mirror, light is travelling around that if you really think about it...you are looking at yourself milliseconds older. I know I am dragging at this tangent. But life is moving so fast right now, that I feel like when I look in the mirror, I see a person growing older mentally. Evolving into something that I don't know if I like or hate yet.
This all came to mind when I went on a date with this guy on Saturday. After talking to him for a while, I began to notice something with him. He is where I was two years ago; except the fact that he has a master's degree, a job, a house, and a life seperate from his parents. It was eerie hanging out with him and encountering other things that night that it has been disturbing me for the past three days.
I went to Numbers, an immediate sign that weird shit is going to go down. I am sorry, but alot of stuff has happened there. It was my first club experience when I was dating Jeff; it was the place that I seen him dancing with another guy for the first time; it was the first time that I seen him with his boyfriend/fiancee; and the place where I met Robert and Matt --both on seperate occassions, of course! When I met this new guy, I will call him "Cooper," this was his first club.
After drinking and talking, we made our way to the dance floor and began to dance. I hate to brag, but even before I met Jeff, I was a good dancer and knew how to follow. It took Cooper a while to transition from white boy to okay dancer. When I asked him about his dancing, he replied with a: "you just lead and I will follow." I was hit with a memory: I would let Jeff follow on our first date, as it drew on, I began to do things of my own.
Then I decided to push the envelope, there was this REALLY hot guy checking me out, my gaydarman senses detected he was a bottom, and I invited him over to dance with me in the middle. This led to massive jealousy with Cooper, he grabbed my hand and put it on his ass as he was teasing my ear. I kissed him to give him the relief that I was not going to hook up with this guy, but that I wanted to have fun.
But then, like Alice, things turn into Wonderland as the unexpected occurred: Jeff's ex-fiancee walks into the room and gives me the nastiest glare. As if I was the reason why him and his beau broke up. I felt like I was in an episode of Dynasty, except there was no random cat fight with flying vases/nails/slander. I looked back at this guy and all I saw was how he hurt Jeff, and I wanted to beat his face in because of it. No one fucks with my friends...
As the night grew on, I was asking Cooper questions about his gay experience: he has not been to Numbers nor Rich's at all. I started getting a little worried because this guy was getting really sprung on me; and the sad part: the feeling was not mutual...more of me having fun. Going to Rich's was just different because I felt like I had magically turned into someone else...I had turned into Jeff.
I can explain this in several examples. First one, to all these guys, they see me as the top in the relationship. Yes, I have become very headstrong and understanding how to fight for myself. I don't want people to fuck with me the way Robert and Jeff did again. Next example, I am deflowering this guy in introducing him to new facets of gay culture in San Diego. Yeah, he has experience in other parts of the world, but not in San Diego. Next, I do not want to be in a relationship right now. I do not see myself with anyone right now. I am in the process of moving to Hollywood to start my career, I am kinda not allowing myself to have any ties holding me down. The only things I want holding me down in my life right now are the ropes that are tied to both my hands and a bedpost.
This guy creeps me out not for his personality, I think he is a very intelligent person and really cute; however, he is too much like how I was two years ago that it's kinda scary seeing my own reflection. People tell me of their problems with their ex's or whatever, and even with them, I see reflections of my pain there. Like one of my friends was telling me about her girlfriend and how she is becoming a psycho stalker. I was once there, and hearing her talk about her ex puts me in an awkward situation. It's like hearing Jeff talking about me to an extent. I don't know if I am reading into this at all, but people talking about things that I can relate to helps put things into perspective for me and allow me to grow. Once again, a mirror can reflect things you may/may not want to see. It is the honest thing you can have in your life. I guess that is the reason why Lewis Carroll puts it into his stories.
Lewis Carroll, like many authors in the 19th and 20th century, believed in the power of allegories. Gulliver's Travels, Alice in Wonderland, The Man Nobody Knew, are just those examples that pokes fun at the world that we live in. Carroll uses the anology of the rabbit hole to hide the deeper meaning to government, culture, and life in general. In my opinion, the mirror represents the way truth can be known...even though it may sound strange and may see things that you are not prepared for. But Alice enters a world of unreality, a world where what is real is distorted and reversed in ways that question reason. Is what they are seeing really what the world is becoming to an extent?
I have entered this looking glass and making my way into a world of unreality. I am having fun, but am I doing it because deep down, I am still in pain? How far am I going to go down this other reality of where I have become a more confident person? I cannot seem to stress how much I love feeling like I can stand up for myself and for others more; however, is this a part of growing up?
But I am sure you don't want to be lectured on the plot analysis of Lewis Carrol's story. That's not important to y'all. What is important is when the girl crosses over into the mirror world, everything is not what it seems. Inanimate objects become alive, everything turns opposite on her in a matter of moments.
Since I have made the initiative to not take myself seriously, my life becomes more interesting. I have turned from being a bitter person that licks his own wounds into a person that just finds fun. Letting go of some of my inhibitions and reservations for one guy and allowing fate to take control of my life. Sometimes, I let my old self take over, but standing up for myself is more fun and makes for a better story. However, I feel like for some reason I have crossed so far into this new world, that I am beginning to see reflections of my old self everywhere.
Light travels at a speed of 299, 792, 458 meters per second (by the way, don't hate on the meters per second. Google gave me that number and I am too tired to look it up!) Staring at a mirror, light is travelling around that if you really think about it...you are looking at yourself milliseconds older. I know I am dragging at this tangent. But life is moving so fast right now, that I feel like when I look in the mirror, I see a person growing older mentally. Evolving into something that I don't know if I like or hate yet.
This all came to mind when I went on a date with this guy on Saturday. After talking to him for a while, I began to notice something with him. He is where I was two years ago; except the fact that he has a master's degree, a job, a house, and a life seperate from his parents. It was eerie hanging out with him and encountering other things that night that it has been disturbing me for the past three days.
I went to Numbers, an immediate sign that weird shit is going to go down. I am sorry, but alot of stuff has happened there. It was my first club experience when I was dating Jeff; it was the place that I seen him dancing with another guy for the first time; it was the first time that I seen him with his boyfriend/fiancee; and the place where I met Robert and Matt --both on seperate occassions, of course! When I met this new guy, I will call him "Cooper," this was his first club.
After drinking and talking, we made our way to the dance floor and began to dance. I hate to brag, but even before I met Jeff, I was a good dancer and knew how to follow. It took Cooper a while to transition from white boy to okay dancer. When I asked him about his dancing, he replied with a: "you just lead and I will follow." I was hit with a memory: I would let Jeff follow on our first date, as it drew on, I began to do things of my own.
Then I decided to push the envelope, there was this REALLY hot guy checking me out, my gaydarman senses detected he was a bottom, and I invited him over to dance with me in the middle. This led to massive jealousy with Cooper, he grabbed my hand and put it on his ass as he was teasing my ear. I kissed him to give him the relief that I was not going to hook up with this guy, but that I wanted to have fun.
But then, like Alice, things turn into Wonderland as the unexpected occurred: Jeff's ex-fiancee walks into the room and gives me the nastiest glare. As if I was the reason why him and his beau broke up. I felt like I was in an episode of Dynasty, except there was no random cat fight with flying vases/nails/slander. I looked back at this guy and all I saw was how he hurt Jeff, and I wanted to beat his face in because of it. No one fucks with my friends...
As the night grew on, I was asking Cooper questions about his gay experience: he has not been to Numbers nor Rich's at all. I started getting a little worried because this guy was getting really sprung on me; and the sad part: the feeling was not mutual...more of me having fun. Going to Rich's was just different because I felt like I had magically turned into someone else...I had turned into Jeff.
I can explain this in several examples. First one, to all these guys, they see me as the top in the relationship. Yes, I have become very headstrong and understanding how to fight for myself. I don't want people to fuck with me the way Robert and Jeff did again. Next example, I am deflowering this guy in introducing him to new facets of gay culture in San Diego. Yeah, he has experience in other parts of the world, but not in San Diego. Next, I do not want to be in a relationship right now. I do not see myself with anyone right now. I am in the process of moving to Hollywood to start my career, I am kinda not allowing myself to have any ties holding me down. The only things I want holding me down in my life right now are the ropes that are tied to both my hands and a bedpost.
This guy creeps me out not for his personality, I think he is a very intelligent person and really cute; however, he is too much like how I was two years ago that it's kinda scary seeing my own reflection. People tell me of their problems with their ex's or whatever, and even with them, I see reflections of my pain there. Like one of my friends was telling me about her girlfriend and how she is becoming a psycho stalker. I was once there, and hearing her talk about her ex puts me in an awkward situation. It's like hearing Jeff talking about me to an extent. I don't know if I am reading into this at all, but people talking about things that I can relate to helps put things into perspective for me and allow me to grow. Once again, a mirror can reflect things you may/may not want to see. It is the honest thing you can have in your life. I guess that is the reason why Lewis Carroll puts it into his stories.
Lewis Carroll, like many authors in the 19th and 20th century, believed in the power of allegories. Gulliver's Travels, Alice in Wonderland, The Man Nobody Knew, are just those examples that pokes fun at the world that we live in. Carroll uses the anology of the rabbit hole to hide the deeper meaning to government, culture, and life in general. In my opinion, the mirror represents the way truth can be known...even though it may sound strange and may see things that you are not prepared for. But Alice enters a world of unreality, a world where what is real is distorted and reversed in ways that question reason. Is what they are seeing really what the world is becoming to an extent?
I have entered this looking glass and making my way into a world of unreality. I am having fun, but am I doing it because deep down, I am still in pain? How far am I going to go down this other reality of where I have become a more confident person? I cannot seem to stress how much I love feeling like I can stand up for myself and for others more; however, is this a part of growing up?
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Virus
Growing up and attending elementary school, there were three different viruses you were to avoid. The first virus is you have the most common one: the common cold. You get it at least once a year and you feel like absolute crap. You deal with green snot, a groggy voice, and an attitude problem that has the ability to get you grounded quicker.
The second virus is lice. As we grow into adults, we deal with the possibility of getting crabs; but that is a totally different story. If a kid has lice, you were to avoid them at all costs, unless you were in dire need to get a hair cut. You end up taking three showers that day, as your mom uses the small toothed comb that makes your hair scream for mercy as it picks up each gross louse egg on your follicles.
Then finally, you get the chicken pox. This virus brings spots to your body for a week's time and makes you into a quarantine case. You are stuck with mother, watching her Oprah and Passions with nothing planned except the oatmeal bath before bedtime. Sure you occasionally spoiled with food and sitting in the front seat of mom's volvo, but at the same time, you are still not allowed to have a social life; unless your mother knows a kid that has never gotten the chicken pox. Which later leads to you playing with them, exposing the kid to the virus and damning them to a week of isolation.
As you grow up, you deal with other viruses. But sometimes these viruses might not attack you physically, but rather emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. Like the childhood viruses, they can leave you feeling isolated.
If you read my previous blog Get Naked, then you already know that Jeff and I have gotten to be friends again; however, this time, I am the one that is stronger and able to be his friend without reading into anything. We went to Pride together as we both saw some familiar ex's that totally screwed us over, met some new hotties, and engourged ourselves in food. It felt good having my best friend back in my life. It was like having that breath of fresh air, being able to talk openly about our ex's and our hook ups without having any ties to each other. Then suddenly out of nowhere, our friendship had caught the deadliest virus. And I fear that I might have to pull the plug on it.
I don't know how to explain it, but he has been avoiding me. For reasons unknown. He did this before, then he told me that he was engaged. He was going through his drama, I told him I would be there for him and that I promise to be there when times are rough for him. Well, times are getting rough for me and he is nowhere to be found. This is not the first time that this has happened either. He has a habit of ditching me and making it all about him.
I am not holding any romantic ties to this guy nor am I trying to make a big deal out of it. But one thing that I do know that bothers me is that he is taking advantage of me. Of all people that I have to cut myself from...it has to be him. And people that like to fuck with me like that get dropped really fast. Like faster than popping a pill to make the pain go away.
My entire life has all been about trying to impress other people and completely forgetting about myself. I would let people take advantage of me because it give me the temporary relief that people like me. Up until recently, I declared my own independence and made a vow to not let people take advantage of me like that again; and if people are going to play me like that, I would drop them faster than biohazardous gloves. And now, like Buffy had to do to Angel in the end of the second season, I must end it with him.
He is a virus. Something that if not taken care of, can eat at me until there is nothing left. It happened before with my own thoughts, my thoughts became a destructive virus that left me believing in the world of my own creativity rather than what is being told in front of me. And now that I have a grip on my own life and story, I am going to take charge.
The second virus is lice. As we grow into adults, we deal with the possibility of getting crabs; but that is a totally different story. If a kid has lice, you were to avoid them at all costs, unless you were in dire need to get a hair cut. You end up taking three showers that day, as your mom uses the small toothed comb that makes your hair scream for mercy as it picks up each gross louse egg on your follicles.
Then finally, you get the chicken pox. This virus brings spots to your body for a week's time and makes you into a quarantine case. You are stuck with mother, watching her Oprah and Passions with nothing planned except the oatmeal bath before bedtime. Sure you occasionally spoiled with food and sitting in the front seat of mom's volvo, but at the same time, you are still not allowed to have a social life; unless your mother knows a kid that has never gotten the chicken pox. Which later leads to you playing with them, exposing the kid to the virus and damning them to a week of isolation.
As you grow up, you deal with other viruses. But sometimes these viruses might not attack you physically, but rather emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. Like the childhood viruses, they can leave you feeling isolated.
If you read my previous blog Get Naked, then you already know that Jeff and I have gotten to be friends again; however, this time, I am the one that is stronger and able to be his friend without reading into anything. We went to Pride together as we both saw some familiar ex's that totally screwed us over, met some new hotties, and engourged ourselves in food. It felt good having my best friend back in my life. It was like having that breath of fresh air, being able to talk openly about our ex's and our hook ups without having any ties to each other. Then suddenly out of nowhere, our friendship had caught the deadliest virus. And I fear that I might have to pull the plug on it.
I don't know how to explain it, but he has been avoiding me. For reasons unknown. He did this before, then he told me that he was engaged. He was going through his drama, I told him I would be there for him and that I promise to be there when times are rough for him. Well, times are getting rough for me and he is nowhere to be found. This is not the first time that this has happened either. He has a habit of ditching me and making it all about him.
I am not holding any romantic ties to this guy nor am I trying to make a big deal out of it. But one thing that I do know that bothers me is that he is taking advantage of me. Of all people that I have to cut myself from...it has to be him. And people that like to fuck with me like that get dropped really fast. Like faster than popping a pill to make the pain go away.
My entire life has all been about trying to impress other people and completely forgetting about myself. I would let people take advantage of me because it give me the temporary relief that people like me. Up until recently, I declared my own independence and made a vow to not let people take advantage of me like that again; and if people are going to play me like that, I would drop them faster than biohazardous gloves. And now, like Buffy had to do to Angel in the end of the second season, I must end it with him.
He is a virus. Something that if not taken care of, can eat at me until there is nothing left. It happened before with my own thoughts, my thoughts became a destructive virus that left me believing in the world of my own creativity rather than what is being told in front of me. And now that I have a grip on my own life and story, I am going to take charge.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Hop, Skip, Get Naked
Live. Love. Be. The theme of Pride this year. It's interesting to see how much I have grown after a month of being independent and waking up from my Jeff-Pablo romance story I was writing in my head. I am not the writer of that story, God is. And so far, I know that Jeff is my best friend. The men I meet, date, and befriend will never compare to my love that I will have for Jeff.
I was hanging out with my new guy Matt Friday night, the eve of the San Diego Gay Pride Parade. We had crashed a party two houses away from his. This house, and the host, made me feel like I was in a gay version of The Great Gatsby. Matt was the new guy from Nebraska, I was Daisy, the flapper. I am "cheating" on my husband by hanging out with the man in West Egg.
Upon entering the house, we were greeted by the host, who offered us to go to the backyard if we wanted to get naked. Being curious, we went to the backyard, hoping to see an orgy going on; however, to our surprise, the only thing that was getting naked was the cooler. The cooler had a sign on it that said: "Hop, Skip, Get Naked." It was a suicide drink comprised of lime juice, vodka, and beer. I was already buzzing after the vodka tonic that Matt made me at his house, having three of those drinks brought the happy buzz in me.
After eating half the food, being begged by the host's gay dog for our food, and drinking three glasses of the Naked suicide drink, we began to make our way to Rich's. I was on the VIP list and can dodge the entire line. It was an amazing plus because I had to pee really bad. When we got inside, we had to fight the crowd to get to the main dance floor to the bathroom. The main dance floor was packed, you could not touch the floor without stepping on a shoe!
Matt and I began to dance. He is the only guy that works as hard as I am with dancing. The music was okay, it didn't grab my adrenalin like DJ Nikno does. While dancing, I looked over my left to see Jeff dancing by himself. I make my way over to him and hug him. It was good to see him making the moves of letting go of his fiancee and moving with his life, something that took me until recently to do. Matt asked me who that was, I told him that that is my best friend. "I would give my left kidney for this guy."
As we were dancing, and Matt was avoiding eye contact with me, I began to look for Jeff. Don't worry, I wasn't going to weave another love story out of it, I just wanted to see how he was doing. He was on one of the podiums, dancing by himself. Eyes scanning the bodies looking for someone hot to dance with, but with no luck.
As we left the club and I dropped Matt in front of his apartment, I invited him to meet me at Pride tomorrow and to text me when he is awake. I was driving off back home, I texted Jeff and told him that it was really good seeing him at the clubs and was hoping to see him at Pride tomorrow.
Driving down the 15. Contemplating my now-questioning feelings for Matt, since all he does with me is put up an emotional wall for me to break through. From behind, I see the familiar headlights of Jeff's car. He speeds up to where I am at and I look over to see his smiling face, telling me to pull over at the next Denny's.
When we meet, I make my way over to him. Happy that I was on a date and that I had finally overcome my feelings for Jeff. I ask him how he is doing, and he just says "I need a hug."
I hug him as he tells me how lonely he is feeling. How he just feels like he is losing it. When he saw me at the club, he was fearing that I will start to not talk to him anymore. How he is just going to spend his days lonely, regretting how things are turning out between us. I began to hold him close to me, telling him that he will ALWAYS have me, I distance myself for my own sake because I don't want to get hurt anymore. I wanted to hang out with him this week, but still felt like I needed to recover. I need my space right now.
My heart was breaking for him. I was in the same spot when we broke up, yet here I am still here for him. When he was telling me what was going on in his mind, I was fighting back tears because my heart was overwhelmed by what he was feeling. I don't ever want Jeff to be in that spot where I was in. It was dark, it was lonely, it almost killed me.
It's funny how the more progress I am making with my life, the more I realize how I am still in the same spot that I will always be in: hopelessly in love with this guy and wanting more. Jeff is realizing that things between us will never be the same again. I will not always be hanging at every word anymore. I am going to move on with my life and if he wants to go after me, he is going to have to pursue me like everyone else. I am not going to make it easy for him, because the last two times I let that happen, I ended up hurt. I want him to know that he needs to prove that he wants to be there for me and not feel like he doesn't have to try with me. Because, according to the polls of all my boyfriends, I am a catch and a hottie, I am not going to let people take advantage of that.
I was hanging out with my new guy Matt Friday night, the eve of the San Diego Gay Pride Parade. We had crashed a party two houses away from his. This house, and the host, made me feel like I was in a gay version of The Great Gatsby. Matt was the new guy from Nebraska, I was Daisy, the flapper. I am "cheating" on my husband by hanging out with the man in West Egg.
Upon entering the house, we were greeted by the host, who offered us to go to the backyard if we wanted to get naked. Being curious, we went to the backyard, hoping to see an orgy going on; however, to our surprise, the only thing that was getting naked was the cooler. The cooler had a sign on it that said: "Hop, Skip, Get Naked." It was a suicide drink comprised of lime juice, vodka, and beer. I was already buzzing after the vodka tonic that Matt made me at his house, having three of those drinks brought the happy buzz in me.
After eating half the food, being begged by the host's gay dog for our food, and drinking three glasses of the Naked suicide drink, we began to make our way to Rich's. I was on the VIP list and can dodge the entire line. It was an amazing plus because I had to pee really bad. When we got inside, we had to fight the crowd to get to the main dance floor to the bathroom. The main dance floor was packed, you could not touch the floor without stepping on a shoe!
Matt and I began to dance. He is the only guy that works as hard as I am with dancing. The music was okay, it didn't grab my adrenalin like DJ Nikno does. While dancing, I looked over my left to see Jeff dancing by himself. I make my way over to him and hug him. It was good to see him making the moves of letting go of his fiancee and moving with his life, something that took me until recently to do. Matt asked me who that was, I told him that that is my best friend. "I would give my left kidney for this guy."
As we were dancing, and Matt was avoiding eye contact with me, I began to look for Jeff. Don't worry, I wasn't going to weave another love story out of it, I just wanted to see how he was doing. He was on one of the podiums, dancing by himself. Eyes scanning the bodies looking for someone hot to dance with, but with no luck.
As we left the club and I dropped Matt in front of his apartment, I invited him to meet me at Pride tomorrow and to text me when he is awake. I was driving off back home, I texted Jeff and told him that it was really good seeing him at the clubs and was hoping to see him at Pride tomorrow.
Driving down the 15. Contemplating my now-questioning feelings for Matt, since all he does with me is put up an emotional wall for me to break through. From behind, I see the familiar headlights of Jeff's car. He speeds up to where I am at and I look over to see his smiling face, telling me to pull over at the next Denny's.
When we meet, I make my way over to him. Happy that I was on a date and that I had finally overcome my feelings for Jeff. I ask him how he is doing, and he just says "I need a hug."
I hug him as he tells me how lonely he is feeling. How he just feels like he is losing it. When he saw me at the club, he was fearing that I will start to not talk to him anymore. How he is just going to spend his days lonely, regretting how things are turning out between us. I began to hold him close to me, telling him that he will ALWAYS have me, I distance myself for my own sake because I don't want to get hurt anymore. I wanted to hang out with him this week, but still felt like I needed to recover. I need my space right now.
My heart was breaking for him. I was in the same spot when we broke up, yet here I am still here for him. When he was telling me what was going on in his mind, I was fighting back tears because my heart was overwhelmed by what he was feeling. I don't ever want Jeff to be in that spot where I was in. It was dark, it was lonely, it almost killed me.
It's funny how the more progress I am making with my life, the more I realize how I am still in the same spot that I will always be in: hopelessly in love with this guy and wanting more. Jeff is realizing that things between us will never be the same again. I will not always be hanging at every word anymore. I am going to move on with my life and if he wants to go after me, he is going to have to pursue me like everyone else. I am not going to make it easy for him, because the last two times I let that happen, I ended up hurt. I want him to know that he needs to prove that he wants to be there for me and not feel like he doesn't have to try with me. Because, according to the polls of all my boyfriends, I am a catch and a hottie, I am not going to let people take advantage of that.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Point of Impact
I went to have fun. To let loose and to allow myself to not worry about the consequences the next morning when I am tired, grumpy, and hating every kid that comes to my park. There was so much activity at the bar, why didn't I stay?
I was dancing by myself when this guy approached me. We danced, we did the normal things people do when they want to hook up. He told me I am hot, I returned the compliment. He was drunk. We were set on hooking up. We left together in my car to his place. Forty-five minutes later, I dress myself and walk out the door, showing myself out of the apartment.
I arrive at my truck and begin to cry. Flashbacks of my past began to flood my head, overwhelming me. I can't believe I let myself do that again. I began to feel my self-worth just fall to the ground like a falling star. The sudden moment of impact was when I was hit with my past hitting me. I am not talking about my past hookups, lovers, or boyfriends; I am talking about the last time I was raped.
It was on a March 25th. I was attending a make-up class to be a certified counselor for the Billy Graham Crusade. I was leaving to go home. I approached my beat up Toyota Tercel, jingling the keys around as I loom closer to my car. I stick the keys in my car and felt satisfied that I was responsible for following through with something. Then I feel a cold tip of a knife on my neck. I look in the rearview mirror to see a dark figure in the backseat, holding onto me.
"We can either play this my way, or the hard way." He said, pushing the knife into my skin.
"Okay!" I replied with a hyperventhilated tone of pure panic. "What do you want?"
"Drive."
I begin to drive,, the knife still on my neck. He tells me to turn on an empty parking lot. I turn into the desolate parking lot. There was two lightposts there. To my misfortune, only one of them was working.
He tells me to park my car in the opposite corner of the enterance. When I parked the car, my mind began to race in wonder of what was going to happen to me.
"Get out." He demanded as I got out of the car. He follows me out. "Pull down your pants. You make a sound, you will fucking regret it."
I felt like I was being ripped apart. Not only was my body in pain as he was raping me. My body being pushed against my own car and his dick, but my soul was in complete anguish. The only thought that was racing in my head was how I was going to tell anyone about it. If I was going to tell anyone. I didn't tell people the real story about myself until a couple years ago.
Now, I met this guy and we went back to his place. We began to take off our clothes and do the business. But naturally, my ass began to hurt and I told him I couldn't take any more. He first listened to me, but then he tried it again. I told him no. Then he tried it again. I told him to stop. He was drunk. Suddenly, images of my rape began to hit me. He tried it one more time, I forced him off me, got clothed and left.
Driving home, I listened to the sound of my engine roaring, my heart beating, and my soul breaking. I felt worthless. Like all I am ever worth is to be fucked. The only time I will experience someone's satisfaction is when they are inside me. I am single, victim to guys that like to emotionally rape me with their disconnected feelings.
The only thought in my head was that I wanted to talk to someone. I wanted to talk to my best friend. I want these thoughts to escape my head; however, I didn't want to word-vomit all this info just to make people feel sorry for me. But the only way that I can get over it is if I blog. And the sudden realization that I have to be at work in the morning... I don't want to be like this anymore.
I don't want to feel like the only good quality to myself is that I give good head, I am a very good kisser, and have a nice ass. I know I give good head, I know I am a good kisser, and I am puerto-rican, so I know I have a nice ass. I want people (especially my boyfriend[s]) to know that I am a person with a heart. It's been broken several times, but I am just as human as they are.
I was dancing by myself when this guy approached me. We danced, we did the normal things people do when they want to hook up. He told me I am hot, I returned the compliment. He was drunk. We were set on hooking up. We left together in my car to his place. Forty-five minutes later, I dress myself and walk out the door, showing myself out of the apartment.
I arrive at my truck and begin to cry. Flashbacks of my past began to flood my head, overwhelming me. I can't believe I let myself do that again. I began to feel my self-worth just fall to the ground like a falling star. The sudden moment of impact was when I was hit with my past hitting me. I am not talking about my past hookups, lovers, or boyfriends; I am talking about the last time I was raped.
It was on a March 25th. I was attending a make-up class to be a certified counselor for the Billy Graham Crusade. I was leaving to go home. I approached my beat up Toyota Tercel, jingling the keys around as I loom closer to my car. I stick the keys in my car and felt satisfied that I was responsible for following through with something. Then I feel a cold tip of a knife on my neck. I look in the rearview mirror to see a dark figure in the backseat, holding onto me.
"We can either play this my way, or the hard way." He said, pushing the knife into my skin.
"Okay!" I replied with a hyperventhilated tone of pure panic. "What do you want?"
"Drive."
I begin to drive,, the knife still on my neck. He tells me to turn on an empty parking lot. I turn into the desolate parking lot. There was two lightposts there. To my misfortune, only one of them was working.
He tells me to park my car in the opposite corner of the enterance. When I parked the car, my mind began to race in wonder of what was going to happen to me.
"Get out." He demanded as I got out of the car. He follows me out. "Pull down your pants. You make a sound, you will fucking regret it."
I felt like I was being ripped apart. Not only was my body in pain as he was raping me. My body being pushed against my own car and his dick, but my soul was in complete anguish. The only thought that was racing in my head was how I was going to tell anyone about it. If I was going to tell anyone. I didn't tell people the real story about myself until a couple years ago.
Now, I met this guy and we went back to his place. We began to take off our clothes and do the business. But naturally, my ass began to hurt and I told him I couldn't take any more. He first listened to me, but then he tried it again. I told him no. Then he tried it again. I told him to stop. He was drunk. Suddenly, images of my rape began to hit me. He tried it one more time, I forced him off me, got clothed and left.
Driving home, I listened to the sound of my engine roaring, my heart beating, and my soul breaking. I felt worthless. Like all I am ever worth is to be fucked. The only time I will experience someone's satisfaction is when they are inside me. I am single, victim to guys that like to emotionally rape me with their disconnected feelings.
The only thought in my head was that I wanted to talk to someone. I wanted to talk to my best friend. I want these thoughts to escape my head; however, I didn't want to word-vomit all this info just to make people feel sorry for me. But the only way that I can get over it is if I blog. And the sudden realization that I have to be at work in the morning... I don't want to be like this anymore.
I don't want to feel like the only good quality to myself is that I give good head, I am a very good kisser, and have a nice ass. I know I give good head, I know I am a good kisser, and I am puerto-rican, so I know I have a nice ass. I want people (especially my boyfriend[s]) to know that I am a person with a heart. It's been broken several times, but I am just as human as they are.
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