Describing An Orgasm...

He watched her from the lily pad, falling ever in love. He was invisible to her, his powers enveloping and protecting him from her, or her from him. He ached to touch her, to feel her, to make her want him the same he wanted her. He called her to his world, screaming. She looked toward the water, her hair blowing in the whistling wind.

Children's books always speak the truth. Sometimes the cloud clear, and the sun peeks through just about the time your depression seems like it's going to choke you.

Hilda slays!!

These brilliant paintings were made by Duane Bryers, the artist responsible for my all-time favourite pin-up girl. Hilda is not only sexy, but she has a distinct personality that I don’t see in the other girls of her category. While most pin-ups are simply eye candy, Hilda makes me laugh and marvel at her adorable down-to-earth-ness.

Secrets of the girl...

One day, a lonely little girl knelt down to the ground, and stroked the roots of a growing tree. Ever strong it was that she was comforted by its silence.

Everyday she went to this tree and whispered to it, telling it all her secrets, knowing well her words would be locked away.

Years pass, but ever true, the tree was her north, and she could not stay away. The tree was big, as if every secret she told it watered it with life.

Ever beautiful this tree was, the leaves never falling, despite the change of season, longing for the girls presence. The tree was alive, yearning for the girls whispered words.

One day, the little girl, who now is ready to leave the earth as an old soul visits the tree one last time, with its beautiful strength and never falling leaves, strokes the roots one last time, and whispers her final goodbye.

The tree, feeling her spirit pass, sheds its own tears of loss, and it’s leaves fall away, floating into the sky, releasing all the secrets throughout the years. One by one, the leaves fall, and the final whisper was the first whisper of that lonely girl long ago: “Don’t leave me.”

I'm not a good person

Around this time 5 years ago, I found out I was pregnant, and I made the not so hard decision to have an abortion. I was 26, still living at home, and the guy I was with wasn't in the picture. It was 4 months since I last saw him, in that seedy hotel, where I very much felt like a whore. You see, I was the other woman. I didn't care that he was engaged to another woman. I really didn't care. I didn't even care about him. I didn't even like him. I just wanted to sleep with him because it was fun. Since it had been 4 months since I last had my period, I went to the Chinese doctors office to see if I could get acupunctures or any herbal remedies that would give me my period, because back then, from the time I got my first period back in middle school, my periods were very inconsistent. So inconsistent that I could go months before I'd get my period. It didn't even occur to me that I was pregnant. On that day, I remember distinctly it was Friday April 29th, 2011 because it was the day that Prince William married Kate, and I woke up early to watch the wedding. So ironically, they're great day, is my worst day ever. I remember my mom and I driving to the Chinese clinic, and we waited in the waiting room, and I was called up, My doctor asked if I was sexually active, and I lied, saying no. She asked me to pee in the cup (I did), and to wait in the waiting room. I waited for 10 minutes before the doctor came to get me to tell me what medicines I should take to get my period flowing (or so I assumed). I asked if my mom could come along, because if it's pills or other medical terms said in Chinese, my mom could translate to me. The doctor gave me a weird look, said yes, and we followed her into the examining room. "So, the reason why you're not getting your period is not due to your usual inconsistency, but that you've tested positive for pregnancy." "What?" "You're pregnant." "She's what?" "She's pregnant, she tested positive." After finding out, my mom was very silent, very much in shock, as was I. I put on a fake smile as the receptionist who told the doctor I tested positive congratulated me on my little bundle of joy. I thanked her profusely, and smiled ear to ear. But on the inside, I was dying; in shock; in denial. In the parking lot, my mom suddenly in a burst of manic anger, pain, confusion, and worry, honked the horn for a good 5 seconds. I looked at her red face, and wanted her to hit me. But she didn't. We drove home, her asking me questions, and me telling her as much as I could. I was in denial, I thought the test was bullshit. The first thought in my head was, "I need to get an abortion." When she got home, she immediately called my dad (he was in China at the time). It's funny, to this day, he and I have never spoken a word about my pregnancy. Then she called my brother (who was/is living in Taiwan). I didn't want her to call my brother. I kind of feared him, and I love him more than my parents, and his opinion of me is everything. I hate disappointing him. She handed the phone to me, because he wanted to talk to me. He asked me, "Hey, what's going on?" And I, in my normal voice said, "Not much." Denial, denial, denial. Followed would be a weird weekend. That Friday night, my best friend called me to say that she wouldn't be able to go to my house to watch a movie, and she could hear in my voice that there was something wrong, and asked me what was up. I told her, and she was beyond shocked. She said she would see me in the afternoon, and we would get our own pregnancy test. The next day, we went to CVS and got the most expensive test, and took it back to my house. The 5 minutes after peeing on the stick and waiting is like dangling on a cliff. One strong gust of wind can push you off, or some how lift you up back on the ledge. After 5 minutes, and then another 5 minutes to actually look at the test, because fear does that to you, I was pushed off the cliff. It was positive, I was pregnant, I would be a mom in 5 months time. Then my mom came home, and we told her that I was indeed pregnant, and she asked me what I was going to do. I immediately told her, out loud, and no longer to myself, "I'm going to get an abortion." I spent the rest of the weekend looking up preterm clinics in Columbus, but there were non. Which was good I guess, because what if I ran into someone I knew, right? On Monday, I finally found a place in Cleveland, but they had a few stipulations. By Ohio law, you have to have at least 2 visits to get an abortion. The first visit will last 3–4 hours. On your first visit, they make you fill out paperwork, make you take an ultra sound, give you a private counseling session, and a consultation with your physician. The second visit will be the actual abortion, depending on what kind you have. It can take up to 2-6 hours, and then you rest in the recovery room. Also if you're more than 17 weeks along, it will take up to 3 visits. By the time I booked my first visit (they were booked), I would be at the 17 week mark. I called them that Monday, and didn't have any open appointments until the following Friday. So that day, my best friend and I went together, and I looked away as they gave me an ultra sound, and I told the counselor that the father of the baby didn't know he was the father, and that I just wanted (quite bluntly) to get this over with. And then the next Friday, my mom and I went back to the clinic where they prepared me for the procedure, and then performed the procedure on Saturday, and then sent me home, feeling empty and unfeeling. I have more to say about this, but this is what comes to mind as the 5 year anniversary of my worst day passes me by. I'm glad that I had this done. I'm not happy that I had an abortion though, it's not something I brag about. It's just something I did, and because of this, I still have an empty feeling in me. I'm depressed, and I'm okay with that, I slightly welcome it, because this is my punishment by God. I'm afraid that I may end up in Hell, but that is justified. I allowed murder, and I wanted it to happen. People always say that things happen for a reason. That's not true. They happen because they happen. This is not some paradise where everything is rosy. Life is hard, and life gives you tough choices. I might've chosen the wrong choice, but I'm relatively happy now, and I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to my unborn child, but I'm afraid that it's not good enough. I'll be honest here. I wish all this had never happened, but I would definitely make the same choice again. That baby, would not have been loved, or taken care of. You can't love something when you don't love yourself.

Criticism of Life

My suicide note, if I were ever to commit suicide, that is. But I don't like taking the easy way out. Behold, my poem. Criticism of Life To whom it may concern, and it may not concern anyone, not even you. I am alone in my madness, my thoughts give voice to my trigger finger, my aim is true. A pause before death, my escape from emotion, I have no doubts. I stare down the barrel of my .45, I have no means to go on living. I have no fear, I have no hesitation, I have no want for a memorable speech, I have no tears. This is no more philosophic than history, my life will not live on in books, I wish to not be remembered. My aim is true, it's my time, I am ready. My heart holds no fear, it too is ready. I give my last breath, a click, a shot, a smile, a moment in time. Pity to the one who finds me.

He loves her not.

Sex to feel better.

I was very upset the whole day today. Just very out of my body, and I felt like I was too much in myself, and I could feel the blackness near my heart about to engulf me in depression.

Tonight, my husband was very concerned. He said that I wasn’t myself, and he missed me. He asked me how he could help me.

I said, “can we make love?” He smiled and led me upstairs. And for 30 minutes he brought me back to myself, and all the stress, anger, guilt, pity, hate, and at last, all there was left after I was brought back down to the world was a weight lifting off my shoulders, and such love for him. I even told him.

Me: I love you.

Him: I love you too.

Me: No, I mean, I really love you. I’m in love with you.

I wanted him to know, that this was the love I felt for him. I put all that feeling I had for him in my declaration, and I felt desperate in this moment. His one response that melted me, no matter how small was, “I know,” as he hugged me from behind and kissed my shoulder.

He made me feel whole again, he relieved my stress, he took my mind off my anger, and he put my depression back at bay.

Him: Did we have sex just to have sex, or to make yourself feel better?

Me: Yes.

Laughter ensues.

I’m so happy I want to share it with the world.

Brings me joy.

Classic Hollywood Bloopers