Bitchicisms

I find it kind of sucky that some men really think they can claim some sort of ownership when there is clearly none. Especially when the last tenuous ties that supposedly bind have long been severed.

One morning, woke up prior to my normal waking hours to find One Missed Call. Similar to the horror movie by the same name, I totally ignored it. It was from a dude I used to sleep with. And apparently, still sleep with occasionally.

Our common friend told me that that ex-whatever (I was his mistress so he was my what? ex-lover? ex-enabled cheater?) had visited him early that morning. At around the same time the one missed call was registered. So I asked common friend if that was why ex-whatever called. Common friend told me it was because ex-whatever didn't have his new number. So I laid it to rest.

Then I receive calls from ex-whatever one early morning. I was a little amused cos he was cute and...well...amusing to fuck. There's this sheen of innocence on him that remains no matter how many times he's spent inside me. I love dirtying that patina of youthful naivete.

I was also amused because I was drinking with someone else. By that I mean, a man I was maybe, kinda, going to fuck. Ex-whatever kept calling and calling. I already texted him that I was drinking and still, not getting the message, he called again. Finally, I disentangled myself from the conversation with a hurried and apologetic smile and a "sorry, I have to take this call."

Ex-whatever immediately asked where "we" were. He assumed I was with Common Friend. I think Ex-whatever was supposed to meet Common Friend who was, as usual, inexplicably absent. I responded to the question by reiterating my "I'm drinking" SMS.

Further questions followed.

"Are you with Common Friend?"
"No."
"Do you know where he is?"
"I think he's with his gf."
"Why aren't they here ?"
"I don't know."
"Where are you?"
"I'm drinking."
"Aren't you going?"
"I told them to text me when they were going to the wake they didn't."

It all ended with a curt "Ok, enjoy your drinking."

I did text common friend to tell him that so-and-so was looking for him. I didn't receive any reply either from the wanker Common Friend. I went back to drinks. The Dude asked if I had to go. I said no, it was just some wanker looking for another wanker.

Yes yes. Again I want to end that long twisted history. End it cleanly. Search for that sign. Is this it? The final irrevocable sign that I have nothing at all to look forward to with him and that I should just strike him off the list. A sign in fact that I should burn the list and start anew. A mark that I must pass with flying colors. The time to bury the hatchet and let go of that security blanket. Disregard that I can get laid any time I want to if I just go to that place and that person.

I did like him for his mind originally and not just his dick. He's closed to me and so I must become closed to him. Soooo like those grammatically incorrect Catholic/Christian bumper stickers from long ago. Their stupidity lay not in the fact that they even got printed but that some morons even thought they were right and placed them on their cars. Idiots didn't know the difference between 'Don't get close to me get close to God' (which was the right way) and the printed 'Don't get closed to me get closed to God'. Faith makes people stupid. So I'll stop having faith in you (not God some other person).

Recent talks with girl friends baffle me. Why is everyone so concerned that I am not in a relationship? Is it simply not enough to say that I don't feel like one? Is it typically unacceptable to say I'm not sure I'll be in one someday?

I know intellectually that the whole one person for someone thing is a mathematical improbability. I do believe that there is a possibility there are several someones out there for me. I do get those feelings where I wish I had someone to watch stupid movies with or have sex with (make love, whatever) on a regular basis. Suffice to say these base needs have not completely overridden my senses to make want to get into a relationship.

I wonder. If I get into a relationship again, will I turn back into the simpering lump of female flesh I was the first time? Shall I let him dictate my clothes (conservative), my hair (long), my schedule (home early), my friends (only the nice ones), my attitude (behaved) and my self-esteem (low) as I did before? Or would this be my turn to wow my friends with an inappropriately less attractive man who will obey my every whim (somehow nice guys who are average-looking get hot girls I have no idea why)?

I once asked a friend of mine why she chose a man that had...interesting features (he was motherfucking ugly)...she replied that she knew she wasn't pretty and he was nice to her. I was galled at her admittance. I had to admit myself that she was right in her physical assessment and that maybe sometimes settling was the key to happiness. Another part of me swore never to go down that route. That resulted in an ex-boyfriend so vain and egotistical he was completely surprised when I dumped him after repeated verbally and emotionally abusive fights.

But what if I do settle down? With someone not so hot, not so pretty, not so successful or ambitious or talented. Someone simply understanding and adoring and adorable. The thought frightens the living shit out of me.

I was watching some TV show about women's bodies when I realized it. One of the most enlightening things I've ever discovered about myself.

I was fine with my body. In fact I didn't really pay any attention to it until I was in high school. It was just my shell, what I had. What I used to move around. I barely paid any attention to it. Until my classmates started noticing it.

They said I started growing tits faster than them. Even the boys from my co-ed elementary school didn't bother me much about it. I didn't even care if they snuck a peak at me once while I was changing. My all-girls high school classmates gave me a much harder time. My ass didn't really get enough attention until I reached high school.

I later realized that women are the first to judge when it comes to a woman's body. I've had other women delight that I'd gained weight. I've had other women delight that I had a fat ass. I've had other women judge me more than men did. Most of the time, men are just really grateful to have a woman around.

Come to think of it, women are the ones who enjoy judging. Particularly those who used to play. They like doing it most of all. Women really are more cruel than men. Men are generally more forgiving. As long as you don't insult their pride or their manhood, they'll generally leave you alone.

I was actually thinner before women started pointing out the flaws of my body. I also felt better about myself before I started listening to them. I'm guilty of it myself. I'm a self-confessed lookist. I really don't like unattractive or boring people. But then again, they may only be unattractive or boring to me.

Women, sometimes I judge them too. But mostly I just stay away from those that generally annoy me.

I now realize, who the fuck cares what all these assholes and bitches think? All this worry about the criticisms and the judging looks. Be free of them all. That is the ultimate freedom.

I never thought that things going on in my personal life would ever affect my sex drive. In the past, it didn't really matter. I have fucked men while simultaneously cursing them. I have fucked during tough times. In times of need, when I had to scrounge for the cash to go anywhere (I never felt good traveling without at least some money), I would do anything in my power to get laid. If I was attracted to a man and we could have sex, I would.

Now everything's come to an abrupt halt. I like to think it's the phase in my life where I'd go for quality instead of quantity. But it isn't.

One night I ended up passing by a friend's house. I was just supposed to use the toilet since it was along my way home. I also wanted to go to a neutral place to wait for my next move since I was bouncing from venue to venue that night.

He made a pass at me. And I declined. Playfully and cheekily but I did turn down the offer. I think I wanted to. He isn't bad looking. He's kinda cute in a weird funusual (fun and unusual) way. He's a good lay. Why did I not fuck him?

Things are at a crossroads right now. My head space is fucked up. I am not thinking straight. All the ideas, priorities, emotions and events are clouding my brain. And I am thirsting for more social interaction and intellectual stimulation.

I have always been hungry for life, now I feel like life is trying to eat me whole. And that is distracting me to the point that I can't fuck. Fuck.

Having sexual relations with someone for a prolonged period of time can bring about a sense of companionship. There are some things that are said in bed. Certain things are confided while cuddling together on a bed in an air conditioned room. Talking before and in between rounds can bring about an idea of camaraderie. A false idea.

There is a reason why two people are fuck buddies and not friends or dating or anything other than just mere lovers. This is because while you are comfortable with sharing the sexual and physical aspect of your lives, there are still certain restrictions when it comes to your lives.

So yes, I may like to believe that my FB will be there for me and that I will be there for him. But essentially, when push comes to shove, you just don't want or expect any friendship from fuck buddies. Sure an occasional "hi, hello, how are you doing?" is expected. But anything heavier than that is harder.

Most people know that my extended affair with H has led to several misconceptions and massive heartache (boo-hoo!). But now, I'm coming to terms with the fact that much as I want to believe we are friends, we are merely two people who like to fuck each other.

Sure I like listening to his problems. And yes, when he is available, he listens to mine (but I really would rather not tell him come to think of it). In spite of all this, when push comes to shove, we are merely periphery characters in each others lives. Neither essential to the other. And no, it's not anyone's fault or anyone's choice really. It is merely because that's the way things are.

So in this time of his life when I would like to comfort him the best I can, I content myself with sending 2 SMS messages expressing my concern. Much as I would like to do more, I am satisfied that he knows I will be exactly where I am if he wants/needs me. Those two and the fact that I am a bit busy these days.

In the midst of this weird fluctuating weight issue due to an insane work schedule I am suddenly craving meat. And yes, my mother thought it best to indulge me by buying me my favorite meat in a bun meal: JolliHotdog. Yes I'm one of those who grew up on Jollibee fast food.

Now I'm a bit concerned as I really don't have much time to do any sort of physical activity. I am still trying to work out my schedule and routine for this whole business. And yep I get one of those days when I begin to doubt every flattering thing that has been ever said about me.

I realize that I need to first accept and love who I am before I can change. And I come up with this mantra:

I am a hot, beautiful, smart, fuckable woman.
Anybody would be lucky to get into my pants.
Everyone wants to fuck me.
I am hot.
And fuckable.
There is nothing I can't do.
There is no one I can't do.
I am extremely fuckable.

And I vow to learn this to live it to love it. Because confidence works. And attitude works. And everything else will follow.

And yes, because I am totally fuckable.

I miss my stupid weekends. I miss my other stupid old friends. I miss the laid-back non-sexual pass times I had. I miss the non-complicated life I once had before TEL (The Evil Lives) was born. sure I wasn't getting laid then. Of course I stayed in more and only went out to meet up the boys I hung out with and I was always stressed from the job I had. But it was phenomenally less complicated.

I guess we always want what we can't have. Now that the whole fucking thing has been turned on, it's on. Old playing instincts are back and I got used to having numbers to call when the urge came. I got back into the mode of flirting. I got back the hunter instinct. Then I lost it again then I got it again then I just got really really horny all the time.

And I still miss my stupid weekends.

Hitting it. Soon. I think I may already have. Hating so many things. Hating so many people. Things and people that are (seemingly) a part of my life. Getting wasted doesn't seem like such a good idea. I don't trust people. I don't trust myself. I don't even what to fuck.

here are several signs of depression. One of it being not wanting to have sex. But then again I can still sleep. I can still eat. I can still masturbate. But fuck if I don't want to destroy everything in my life. Leave everyone I know. Shit on everything I own. Destroy things. Hurt people. Just completely remove them from my life.

Every time I got this urge I turned it toward things that may not have been the best idea for me. Ate everything I could lay my hands on. Or fuck everything that moved within my line of sight. Once I got so focused on not eating I lost 31 lbs. in 2 - 3 months. Because I stopped eating.

Now? What do I do now?

Abandon all the things I've worked on? Abandon the relationships I've built? I know where it comes from now. Hate. Self-hate. I'd always vowed I'd try to channel these destructive urges towards things that are good for me.

So here. I vow. To go on a purge. To purge myself. Of food. Of sex. Of friends. Of material things.

I'm sick of people thinking they know me. I'm sick of people I don't trust. I'm sick of people who want to fuck me, or who want me to do something, or who think I'll always go along with what they want. I'm sick of other people's problems. I'm sick of all this fucking shit.

Yes. I hate them. I hate me. I hate my life. And it's time to stop thinking about what else I could be doing, or why I'm not doing what I could actually be doing. An emotional enema. To remove all emotions. To stop feeling at ease with all these fuckers I can't trust.

Lines are blurred. People are uncaring. Life is shit. There are so many problems. And yet people tell me I need to do this for them when they have barely done anything for me.

Fuck harmony. Fuck peace. I don't want any of those. I don't want boring shit anymore. I need something else. I will stop listening to people who only think they know me or what I want or what I need or what I feel. How dare they? They are assholes.

And no this isn't period related. This is not related to jealousy or stupidity or lack of sex. It's me. And all the goddamn things around me. And all the people around me. I don't want this life. I want a new one. And despite all the times I've been whining and shit about this situation I will actually, no fucking around seriously, do something about it now.

A life. A life I want. Let the great purging experiment begin.

I really believe in saying/doing/feeling whatever I want. And I don't believe these thoughts should be suppressed so here it goes:

• what the fuck am i gonna do with all the cheezy songs I downloaded for you? (delete it)
  
• the playlist i created for your mixed CD would've been great!
  
• i was gonna teach you the biting thing next
• i haven't even swallowed your cum yet :(
• but i am hotter than her
• i wanted to tell you something about your penis...
• sex was good but not that good
• does this mean i can give the bags to my mom?
• i wanted to take care of you
• i hope you still try to clean your room
• i liked it when you were taking care of me
• i liked it better when you were just a voice on the phone
• next time you have an affair, try ending it better
• i wanted to improve your taste in music...
• ...and in movies...
• ...and in clothes...
• i'm really not as much of a spoiled brat as you think i am
• i do think you should go back to school
• you're a nice boy, don't cheat
• i still don't believe in religion
• i kinda flinched whenever you prayed before eating, i was wondering where the hell i found you and why the hell i kept you around
  
• it was nice that you sang for/to me, that hasn't happened in a while
• i will try to sing videoke more
• i wanted to mother you
• i am still going to grow my hair longer though
• you were stifling me
• you had to ask me thrice who i was talking to?
• i am tempted to tell you to look for me when you're single, but i know i will never really take you seriously...
• ...i probably would have cheated on you...
• ...i was kind of looking forward to cheating on you actually...
• ...i felt i wanted to teach you a lesson...
  
• you should be flattered
• i think your lisp is cute
• you were...average
• making out with you in public was nice
• you pretend to be nice, when you're actually not
• you did end up making me miserable...just for a little while though
• i curse you, you will...everyone does
• you were right, you didn't deserve me
• you reminded me of my ex...
• ...and A...
• ...and kinda like Cc...
• ...but i did like you
• for no reason at all
• i was going to make you sooo good in bed
  

And yes, yes, the circle of life. I am familiar with the movie the Lion King. I know what it means. I have the quintessential Disney soundtrack album downloaded (I know, so uncharacteristic right?).

Yes, also like the gin commercial: Bilog ang Mundo (the world is round).

So why do I say this? Because I am almost exactly where I am after I ended it with H. We-eell...not really.

There was no semi-drunken I'm-such-a-dirty-slut mode. There was no overdose of Amy Winehouse songs (hmm...may have substituted that this time for Duffy, with her 'I won't be your mistress anymore' songs). And no, I have not gone on major shopping trip, mostly because I am a bit low on funds. I barely know if I've been hysterical and depressed constantly because of Ak or of the fact I am abandoned with a mountain load of work to do. The lines get blurred sometimes.

I am a chronic escapist, plus I don't often trust my emotions. And I play-act. That plus many of my other flaws (trust issues, penchant for unavailable men, obsessive-compulsive/borderline disorder) makes it hard for me to know how I feel exactly. I mean, how the hell difficult was it for me to decide to gun for Ak right? Oh please, ultra-femme fickleness.

But when you start to get addicted to songs with lyrics such as these...

Stepping Stone
by Duffy

I rememeber way back way back when
I said i never wanna see your face again
Cause you were loving yes you were loving somebody else
And i knew oh yes i knew i couldn't control myself
And now they bring you back into my life again
And so i put on a face just like your friends
But i think you know oh yes you know whats going on
Cause the feelings in me oh yes in me are burning strong

...how the hell can you not think about an old lover who has a girlfriend?! Then the resolve kicks in during the chorus of the same song...


...so yes, my predictions that this whole trip would be over after the weekend was right. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy. And I got laid. With H no less. Who recently broke up with his girlfriend (yes, which means we cheated on her the last couple of times we hooked up.sigh.)

So why is life a circle? I am where I was before Ak arrived to fuck it all up. Admittedly it wasn't all his fault. I kinda wanted him to fuck it all up. I wanted to feel something different for a change. Think of it as bungee jumping . It's something stupid, unnecessary yet completely exhilarating.

I admit I wanted to jump. Not because I had to. Not because I felt it was the only course of action I could take. But because it was different from not jumping.

So the emo mode ensued. I was a bit despondent. Didn't indulge in black chocolate and milk though, like the last time. I cried. I think it was because of Ak and not despair at my approaching deadline. I felt like I was going crazy. Thinking about him.

Then I decided I don't give a fuck about anything else. I was going out. And I did. And got some drinks. Ended up with H. Again.

And it was like the reset button was hit. I didn't know the button was hidden aaaaall the way inside... But it was.

Fuck sex is great with H.

Oh and Ak? The weekend is over. And as predicted. Not hurting anymore.

So. I've been decided on the Ak issue. By Ak I mean that boy I was kinda seeing. That boy I had sort of decided I'd pursue actively despite his girlfriend. The boy who I kinda wanted to make the stupid decision for.

First I was confused about whether I would go after him. But then... I decided I would. Then I decided I wouldn't. Then I decided I'd just go with the flow. Then I decided I didn't want to be his mistress anymore. Then at the first sign that he wanted me back (after about 3 days) I went to him. Then I decided I was gunning for it. Then he disappeared.

It all started with him not doing my bidding. Not coming when I asked him to. Despite me pulling all the stops. Which upset me. Then he called after a couple of days hoping to catch me at work. But I wasn't available. Then...silence.

Silence.

Despite text messages that ask him, tell him and basically caress him into seeing me.

Silence.

Then I hear he's just been staying in. That it seems he's gotten caught by the girlfriend.

I check myself. Nope. Not that upset. Missing him of course. Yet not that upset.

Then out of the blue. A phone call. Asking some random thing. Stupid. Casual. I woke up from my nap. Disoriented. Kinda surprised/worried/excited that it was him.

He was...casual. No terms of endearment this time. Just a question. Then he hangs up. I send him an SMS teasing him about his ways.

Then he calls back. Assures me that the reason he couldn't talk was because he was busy. He was getting a haircut. I tease him about not being around then suddenly appearing again. I don't remember how he brushed the topic off. He says he has to hang up and he'll talk to me later.

I send him another SMS. Tease him about going missing.

Silence.

Sent him another message. After wrestling with myself, I decide to ask him why he went missing. I ask if he was in trouble. A clear opening for him to tell me he can't see me anymore because he got caught.

Silence.

Silence.

In the end I tell him to never bother me again.

Here are some of the reasons why I think he called:

1. He really had an important reason for asking me said random casual question. He called back because he wanted to assure me he wasn't avoiding me because...? I dunno. Any statement here aside from the dubious 'he wants to be friends' scenario doesn't fit. Why would he call back to reassure me that he didn't have time to talk but wanted to?
2. He called to ask said question because I would know the answer and he thinks we're ok. He called back for same reason.
3. He called because he misses the sound of my voice. He called back to reassure me that he'll call me again...some day.
4. He called because he knew that he had a hold on me and he wants me fucked up.

There are also these reasons why he didn't reply to my messages or call me back:

1. He became busy.
2. Girlfriend was with him
3. He was too scared to take the hint I left him. He didn't want to say it was over because he was scared of hurting my feelings.
4. He didn't want to end things because he wanted to be able to come back when and if he wanted to.
5. He just didn't think a reply was necessary.

Either way. These reasons just mean he's either a moron or an asshole. And really if those are the only two choices. Then what's the fucking point.

I meant what I said in the SMS though.

Stay The Fuck Away. We are NOT friends. We were LOVERS. Who had an AFFAIR. Let's be specific and just end it. Then I can move forward.

You were right when you said you didn't deserve me. I am too good for you. And I'll prove you right in approximately 7 months. Wait for it.

Wait this sounds eviler than I actually want it to be. Ok I'm still hung up about the sudden disappearance of that dude. And yes I'm kinda bored and I need a break from work so I want to write. However, my main point is: you are too weak for me. I think everyone knew that you. You. Me. Our friends.

It was apparent. Though I let you bully me sometimes. Everyone knew who was stronger. Me.

You were like an incarnation of X. An incarnation I could wipe the floor with. Mainly because though you are cute and sweet and young... you weren't my type.

Ok, what I really want to say to you?

Dear Old Lover,

I am glad you finally made a choice. And I hope you will stick to it. Because I will give in to sex. Always. Even I make a stupid "I don't wanna be your mistress anymore," statement. I'll still fuck you. There is history there. And I have never turned down a good fuck. So stick to it. Let's never see each other again. Promise?

Yep. Searched all the major heart valves, ventricles, arteries, chambers. Heart not broken. All ok. Pride...a little bruised. Yet not that upset. Let him do what he will. And so will I.

Ok. So I made a mistake. I overestimated the hold I had on him. It has now been 1 week and 5 days since we last fucked. So in my mind, this means we're no longer seeing each other. And I have confirmation you've just been avoiding me.

I am actually surprised that this anti-climactic end has not affected me in greater ways. I mean I did like him. I think. I did want him. Definitely. Yet now, I seem to not care that he's away.

Maybe because MMG (my moral guardian, yes a man actually stands as my last defense) was insightful enough to recognize: you don't like him, you're just fascinated.

Yep, fascinated. With the thought, the wonder, the maybe of it all. The possibilities were better than the actual thing. The 'what if?' of something. Something that wouldn't even have lasted a year.

I know us that well baby. I know we don't fit long term. But I still hate it that you disengaged first. Jean Grey always does the leaving. Damn I should've jumped the gun.

But I wanted to see how far things could go. Though I did go all emo-batshit before over this motherfucker, seems that now I've regained my senses and seen the light. Thoughts turn again to my main goal. My main evil goal to be exact.

I always believed vengeance is one of the best motivators in the world. You end up being successful, gorgeous and insanely rich and envy ensues. Be everything all the others can't be.

I have a long list of people to look at when I reach the top. He just got added to the list. One evil goal: make ex-lovers and haters filled with regret.

The program starts now.

The world's been chaotic lately. A whirlwind of men and boys and working. Everything's just insanely mashed up.

H is now single. Meaning those two times we ended up hooking up I was fucking someone who was in a relationship. Not that that was anything new for me. I've fucked before I looked several times before, often to find out that I had just been a party to cheating.

What upset me was that when we first started going out he told me that he wasn't a cheater. But then he also told me that he didn't want a relationship and that if he wanted one it'd be with me. Then he ended up back with his ex.

Now he's single again. But then there really is nothing there.

I am now in a bigger rut with Ak who I've been a pushover for. Then the one time I really wanted to see him he turned me down.

Maybe I am just being bratty. But I really should think this whole "gunning for Ak" thing over.

Fickle minded me.

But if I think I can't win, I won't fight.

Serves me right for trying to make it with call center boys.

Haven't had any decent sleep in about 3 week.s True some of it is because of deadlines and work and shit like that. But most of it is because of staying on call for 24/7 for some dude. Some sweet dude who is younger and kinda vanilla.

I don't know why he's even getting to me. I've had better, smarter, bigger, older, more fascinating people in my orbit before. More than that, I've had more available people in my orbit (this one is one of those suspiciously sweet guys who carry their girlfriends' shoulder bags and call them their wives).

So why is he getting to me? Let me elaborate... is he actually getting to me? Suffice to say I often go through phases where a totally unworthy person will get to me and I feel affected by all the shit that person spews. Sure I will try to escape this and run away and still fuck around. But in the bubble of experience that I share with that one dude, I feel...like...totally into him.

What's wrong with me when this happens you may be asking? A semi-scared feeling that the real thing will never happen. A general over-all boredom that wants something new to happen. A general malaise and dissatisfaction. A totally misled feeling that finally getting into a relationship will make things clearer and more apparent.

Yeah that seems about clear. Yet I cannot discount the fact that a part of me actually likes having him around, or, more accurately, the attention he gives me when we're together. I like being made to feel special sometimes. We all know its fake. Its not real. It never is.

The sex is good. I get off. Its not the best I ever had. Not the worst. Like most sexual experiences, I get off on the energy that we generate. He's a bit more...vocal...than some of the guys I've been with. Not to sound like a power tripping slut but I like the effect I have on guys. More than that, I get off on it.

So wait, do I like him? Or do I just pretend I do? Honestly I don't know anymore. Pretending gets to a point where I don't know where it's going anymore. I know in the beginning, when we first started getting close away from the very real and very watchful eyes of common friend evil Bv, I got caught up in the sweet talk, the endearments and the shared experiences. I was bored, so was he.

Now he's back in the real world. His real world which includes working the night shift and a girlfriend. I'm also back to my real world. My real world includes a heavy workload, a desire to fuck as often as I can and a clear picture of what I want the future to look like (but a hazy and vague idea of what I want the present to be).

I know instinctively that things will never work out with him. He's a cheater, he's younger, he works in a call center and he has crappy taste in music. He's as immature as my ex, not half as intelligent about the same things as H and he stifles me!

Yes yes, this maybe the first time I am blogging/writing about this asshole yet this motherfucker has caused certain inalienable disruptions in my life. That fucker. That asshole. That adorable little wiener/doo-doo head that I like cuddling with. That insane asshole who always asks where I am and who I'm talking to. That sweet boy who gives me what I want whenever I ask for and he can give it. That fucker. That vanilla fucker.

In conclusion. I have no idea how I feel or what I want to do. Nor do I have any plans. I have thoughts. Like I want to win. Like I want to just figure out why this is happening again. Like I want to be at a still, serene place where I can figure out where my life is going. Like
I just wanna focus on what my real world is made up of.

So what do I do now? Nothing. I'm impulsive. And. I make some of the coolest mistakes ever!

I have a lot of guy friends. Its one of the things about me that makes me different from a lot of girls. I have a lot of guy friends who I don't even sleep with. And some of the people closest to me are men.

I'm sure the followers of this blog (if there are any) are aware of the several mentions of Bv and O and other dudes I regularly hung out with. The problem is, some people still think a guy and a girl can't be just friends.

Sure O and I had our fun, but we had both admitted several times that we just met wrong. When he met me, he wanted to fuck me, and I couldn't blame him for that. I wanted to fuck him too. Because of that, we can't ever be really clean and clearly defined just friends. We'll always have that sexually charged past and O being O, we can't ever get past that, though we've managed to be really good friends over time.

Bv on the other hand, has always been just a really good friend. There was never really anything other than friendly banter, no sexually charged awkward moments, just full on accepting friendship and a weird partner in crime symbiotic relationship.

What sucks right now is I'm mired in drama I am not a part of. I have never mentioned the girl Bv has been living with in an attempt to keep her out of the limelight because she was become my friend. Over time we have become close, despite the disturbing things I've heard said about her.

Some people mentioned she tends to get very jealous. I thought she was really nice and open with me. I liked her. And I believed her when she said she liked me.

I've been told she has been jealous for quite some time because of all the time I've been spending with Bv. Despite the fact that they are technically not a couple (they broke up some time back), I've tried to remain on her good side because I did not want any drama or any problems from anyone. Now because of something I've done, a certain act that took advantage of their hospitality, I feel that that act has been used as an excuse to hate me.

I hate being in this position because I feel I am being persecuted for a sin I did not even commit and would never dream of committing (sleeping with Bv). It is not my fault if Bv prefers to spend time with me rather than with her. I have done nothing wrong and my conscience is clean.
I have tried to make amends for the sin I have committed, for becoming a bad house guest. I have apologized, I was prepared to grovel, yet she still remained steadfast in her stand that she hated me. And now what sickens and saddens me is the fact that Bv is not able to protect me.

I've told Bv several times that I was becoming uncomfortable with all the lying and the hiding from her. We weren't even doing anything wrong, we're just friends. And the fact that I have to even explain myself like that sickens me.

Bv always told me to not be afraid that he could handle it, that he will fix things. And I've been complacent and I believed him. I know we weren't doing anything wrong. I know Bv's excuse is that the lying is to avoid drama. Her drama. Now the drama's escalating and I don't even want to be around him sometimes.

I adored her, I liked her, I wanted to be her friend. But in the end it all boils down to her being paranoid and thinking I wanted to steal this dude away from her. Which is so wrong.

Bv has been unable to protect me. I feel like the sacrificial lamb for them. The whole thought that I should be blamed for a fissure in their relationship upsets me. I like them both. But Bv was my friend. And I depended on him to protect me from his ex.

I've been trying to distance myself from him. I've made an effort not to hang out with him so much, even if we like hanging out and he's really really fun. I don't want all this drama in my life. And sadly I now know what Dm feels when she mentioned that there's a lot of drama involved with this clique. I get it now. I don't want to sacrifice a good solid friendship just because someone suspects something which isn't even true.

Bv has told me several times that he intends to fix this whole mire of entanglements. Then he just ends up being lax again. It's like he doesn't care if he has to put his friends through all this shit and fucking crap. I don't want to emotionally blackmail anyone. But I don't want to be turned into the scapegoat.

I never want to hear myself being blamed for problems that aren't mine. I don't want to be mentioned as the cause of a fight. I don't ever want Bv to tell her that we're going out because I invited them. I never want to have to lie that I'm not hanging out with Bv because we're afraid she'll get pissed and cause drama. And I never want to have to remind Bv that just a week ago or a day ago he said he would take care of things and listen to his excuses why he still hasn't.


I hate that I'm sounding like I'm making demands. But I no longer have the patience, or the stamina, or the desire to be the punching bag for all the goddamn crap that the two of them have. Look for another scapegoat Bv and girl, I am no longer willing to serve myself as the sacrificial lamb on the godforsaken altar of your cyclical and entirely dramatic relationship. I quit.

Weirdly enough, Keith Richards' new Louis Vuitton ad shot by Annie Leibovitz attracted my attention. Oh wait, he looks like someone I know, and dated...and...aw crap...

Sure sure, I really liked that guy and he was funny and witty and charming and had a really really huge penis, and in about 10 more years he will probably look like the above photo.

Hating on 2 people:

1) O. For some stupid insane thing he did which culminates a series of stupid insane and offensive things he has been doing to me these past few days. He will never touch me ever fucking again. That maniacal inconsiderate insecure fucked up asshole.

2) Ry. I hung out last night with the boys in a vain attempt to get Bv to drink since we haven't seen each other in ages. However, despite the fact that I was being nice to all the boys, Ry stuck out like a sore asshole because he was pretty much snobbish and mean to me the entire night. Except when he wanted to ask for cigarettes that is. And I am beginning totally hate him. We're fine when he's drunk and groping me, but when push comes to shove he's just another stupid motherfucking boy.

There's something in common with both boys. They both...

1) ...at one time or another, cheated on their respective significant others with me.
2) ...hit on me the first time they ever saw me.
3) ...have had problems dealing with the acts after.

And I hate them why? Because they are just so fucked up and I don't understand why they have to be passive-aggressively mean and I will no longer stand for it. These motherfuckers will not be able to fuck me or ask for any sexual favors from me, unless a major change comes.

As for O, I think it's too late. I've tried my damndest best to be his friend but he has proven time and again that he thinks I'm basically a piece of crap.

When 2007 rolled to a close I made a pledge to never be guilty. This means two things: that I would never do something I would be guilty of and that I would never be guilty of things I do.

Coming fresh off a conversation with O wherein he basically tells me I am a talkative slut, I feel kind of guilty that he is ashamed because some people know about him. And because he is mentioned in this blog.

A part of me is thinking: He has been objectified. And he does not like it.

Another part of me is thinking: Oh god. I've messed up a friendship.

He claims I talk too much. And that I am fuck and tell. I try to tell him that it doesn't matter if other people know that we've been groping or not. All that matters is how people know him.

He does not accept that. And kind of berated me. For how I am and how I live my life.

One of the banes of our friendship has always been his perception of me and his deeply ingrained conservative and somewhat chauvinistically male personality. Now as I come from this conversation which has somewhat drained my resources, I come to see the fact that he has been an asshole lately. He knows I adore him so and as such often takes advantage of that. He is lax and inconsiderate and I am often his examples for his stories on what is wrong with this or that.

And I suddenly realized, why am I so goddamn affected? Why do I even want to be this man'[s friend? And why do I even take his penis in my mouth.

Fuck his shame and his embarrassment. It is not my fault that he has placed his penis in my mouth. And at least I was finally honest with him, maybe I shouldn't have been a hundred per cent honest. Maybe I should've just kept this all to myself. Then I just realized: FUCK THAT.

His parting words were that this was why he never slept with me, because I was fuck and tell. And that he was right in his judgment. Yes. He is right. Because if any man I ever slept with said those words to me. I would've slapped him til he bled to get the hypocrisy out.

Never. Ever. Will I place that man's penis inside my mouth. Never ever will I show an inch of concern. And never, no more doting or favors or goddamn fucking anything.

If he needs to judge other people as wrong or bad or evil to feel right to feel better about themselves, then let him use other people to do so. I am tired of being judged. And I am tired of being used.

I will be guilt free. No matter what. It's not my fault he likes getting blow jobs. So don't blame me. It's my mouth, my experience, my right to say and do and write whatever the fuck I want about that experience.