MANY years ago, a writer-friend was afraid that I was spending too much time writing for the newspaper.
His fear about me being a columnist is that I could fall trap to repetition.
I still think about what he said, especially when I republish certain articles.
But some pieces are really worth reissuing.
“The September Project”, for example.
***
The original blog was written in 2015, and still I find the journal entries relevant.
And still, new audiences and readers like it.
Even people who have read it years before, discover new things about it at every republication.
So, yes, sex can also be repetitive.
But it doesn’t mean that we should stop doing it.
***
My sins are few.
The biggest of which is vanity.
Not even pride.
But vanity!
Not even lust.
But only vanity.
My sin is believing that I am so desired.
Well, part of that sin is me making myself to be so desired.
***
I dress provocatively.
Underdress, undress—call it whatever you want to call it.
But kill me when I start to dress ordinary.
If my dress isn’t anymore exciting, or interesting, just shoot me!
***
I do not like the idea of the chase.
I only chase the sun!
If my efforts are not reciprocated early, I let people go; and move on to the next object of desire.
To be honest, the romantic part of me milks the feeling of unrequited love a little bit longer.
I mean, it is always good artistic fuel.
But I move on fast sexually. Haha.
***
I hate it when people accuse me of leaving them suspended mid-air.
That’s utterly untruthful.
I am a cocktease, but not in that sense.
I mean, I seduce people even if I don’t like them.
I flirt with them for the fun of it.
And they should know that I’m just flirting because I don’t use the affectionate words.
***
When I say “I love you”, however, that is a different matter.
When I say the words, I mean it.
And if you show a modicum of reciprocation, maybe we can have something.
But I repeat: I do not say I love you to mere f*cks.
If I like you, I’ll tell you exactly in those words: “I like you.”
***
Sometimes, I don’t have to like you.
I may like your eyes, or your smile, or your ass.
And I’ll tell you so.
But I will never say I love you just because I liked your ass.
Liked, past tense.
Because it’s a passing thing.
I like it, and I don’t get it.
Or, I like it, and I got it.
I’ve gotten it!
There are so few things in the world that I want, and don’t get! Haha.
***
A few years back, I had a thing with an online fan.
I liked him a lot in our private exchanges that you people call Messenger Chat.
He sounded smart, maybe a little too matured for his year.
But when he confessed that he was only fifteen, I just had to disengage.
I don’t want to flirt with kids online.
And I was already falling for him.
***
I didn’t talk to the boy for maybe three years.
And then, he chatted me again when he turned 18.
But I was already pursuing someone else at that time.
Nothing came out of that pursuit of someone else.
So, now, here’s the boy at 20, ready to turn 21.
Recently broke up with his first girlfriend.
***
I still like him.
In fact, I’m thinking that I already love him.
But what do I say if he tells me that I had led him on for years, and just ignored him anyway.
Ignored him when he was already legal.
We agreed I’m okay with 18.
***
Recently, the boy earned some social media fame.
Let’s not specify for what.
And it hurt me when he said, “You only desire me now because I am hot.”
And I am terribly hurt…
…because I love him so!/PN
