anonymous 

PARADISE

we left early in the morning,
to leave for the island of gods.

he slept on my lap,
during the flight and at the airport.

we rode a cab,
straight to the beach.

we stayed at the nearby motel,
spend less than ten dollars per nite.

we slept the whole night through,
hugging each other.

lonely valentine

another valentine passes by, and i spend it alone again, in the mean of no passionate dinner, or roses given by the supposedly right man. no cards, no greetings, and it just passes by.
the thrill of valentine is over-rated by hollywood movies, and somewhat i was moved by such over-rating movement.
not that i am single or something, although i am spending my valentine writing this blog.
my long distance boyfriend just called and oversaid happy halloween to me, then quickly said happy valentine, sounded upset and quickly ended the phone with the common i love you's.
i just need a container to spend my loneliness i guess.

i sometimes wonder what will happen next valentine, will i be alone again or not?
well my bet is i am.
i will revisit my blog on next year valentine's day to tell how it actually went.
well last year it was my graduation day (great isn't it?) and my parents were in town, and yet, no passionate dinner or the whole mellow and dramatic stuff.

hey, of course i find romanticism very nice to be shared, though i am cynical and seemed to have no heart. and i kinda miss it.
anyway, its way past bedtime, and i'm gonna go to sleep now.

to all you lonely hearts in this valentine day, share it with me, and..most importantly, you are not alone.

The Man

He lies in his bed-
wearing his all black suit-
the color of darkness, sadness, and grief-
black.

And i lie beside him-
my face next to his unshaven chin-
my hands tousling his hair-
his black black hair.

Yet in the shadow-
although his soul lies somewhere else-
no matter how hard he tries to hide it-
i can still see his grief.

I don't know what he's grieving for-
have no idea what he's looking for-
senseless of what he's sad for.

But i stayed-
spent the night-
enjoying the sight.

We fucked earlier-
skin to skin-
the time when he seems to forget his sadness and grief-
while i pretend to forget mine.

He quickly dress up after we fucked-
while i stay naked.

I was hoping for more-
while he seems to be quite satisfied-
for the sex was only to help him forget his problem-

But it doesn't matter-
I was only there for the company-
not for the sex-
I knew he was lousy anyway.

We had cigarettes-
before and after we fucked-
and discussed about our country-
the civil war-
my study-
his study-
literature-
art-
and extreme sports-
until he falls asleep.

I knew i made a mistake-
shouldn't go out with this man all people hated so much-
But fuck it-
Its a reciprocal relationship-
none of us felt anything for each other.

and so-
we had the most intimate relationship-
yet we are so distant from each other.

I left him in the middle of the night-
and he called me the day after-
to repeat the whole scene again.

After weeks,
we called a quit-
where we later become cameraderie.

and, until now,
it is the most honest relationship i've ever had.
for we never lie one to another.
and only we knew about it.
only we knew how close we are,
and how distant we are,
at the very same time.

i want to be a prostitute

i want to be a prostitute.
fast money.
just spread your legs.
fake your orgasm.
scream his name.
say fuck..oh yes..oh no...
no liabilities.
no responsibility.

fulfill his desire.
dress up.
a nurse,
a stewardess,
a stripper.

your profession makes you work out,
pick a style,
69, doggie, missionary,
you name it.

people think its easy to be a prostitute,
but as one of the longest profession existed in history,
i'll show you the reason why only a multi talented woman
can be a prostitute.

you're being a business woman
when you bargain,
hey, demands meets needs.

you're being a lawyer,
to require him to do precautionary measures,
condoms and no liability,
no warranties and misrepresentation clause.

you're being a doctor,
to examine his sickness,
symptoms of heart attack, or sexually transmitted disease,
or even impact of viagra.

you're being a poet,
when you say nice things,
to know when things are better left unsaid.

you're being a police,
to know your right,
and to make sure client will pay.

you're being an actress,
when you fake your moan,
your scream,
and even your orgasm.

you're being an athlete,
when you take the hardest position,
and perform all night long,
with whatever style he wants.

you're being a model,
you have to take care of your body,
you skin,
and your face,
and..being a constant dieter,
to keep on with the market's demand.

you're being a singer,
when you sing a lullaby,
to end your working nights.

you're being a scientist,
when you have a dialogue,
debating the ratio of the world catastrophic disease or whatsoever,

and yet, you are also being a politician, a lecturer, a pshycologist,
which could all happen,
at the very same moment.

and in the end,
you leave with a handfull of thousand dollar notes.


i want to be a prostitute.
well, so the story goes,
and i am being one.
selling my hope, dream and ambition to you ,dear clients.

LIES

Am I a liar?
Is it sinful or wrong to tell a lie?

Many says that a lie is an event when one does not speak of a fact.
Or, when one conceals a fact.
But then again,
What is a fact?
A fact is an occurence, reality, events, occuring in a mind of a person.
Most of the time, it is one's perception of an event,
what one's think as a fact,
but isn't there a mere possibility, that what one think as a fact is often a lie?

One's perception and conception of a fact,
is what one sees as a fact,
but not what is the fact itself.
then if you speak the fact, but only according to yourself,
doesn't it make you a liar?

And how many times in this world,
have you give your opinion,
share your stories of an event,
tell gossips of your friends or celebrity,
all with what you perceive as fact,
in your own human mind?

Does that make you a liar?
then you should see the world as it is,
not the way you think it is.

Then through my contemplation,
in this human world,
there is no lie or fact,
there are only opinions,
and, in my opinion,
there is no sin or wrong thing,
for it is only an opinion.

Don't think you're right or wrong,
listen to each and every opinion,
for the right and wrong,
even as have been determined by rules and norm,
are merely opinion and conceptualized.

The moment you think you are telling fact or right and wrong,
you have become the unintelligent human being,
or you may be playing God,
but even that is not wrong,
for you have your own opinion yourself.

grow,
have opinion,
become human,
for this is the beauty of living.

and the seeds of misunderstanding, and war,
but also the root of learning process, and development.

how beautiful human being are,
and how lovely life is.

Voluntary Servitude

Servitude. Subjection. Slavery. Bondage.
Yet, it is voluntary.

Again and again i was drawn back to my preference.

Have i suffered so much pain in the past,
that i become accustomed,
and unconsciously choose to be accompanied by pain,
become enslaved by the feeling of being opressed,
of being hurt,
of being torn apart?

And I cherish the smell of blood,
the sound of moan,
for i know that after the suffering,
nothing could hurt me even more.

Once i tried to follow,
what society has to say of my preference,
tried to enjoy the laughter and joy,
but i feel a hollow,
deep in my soul.

For pain is my happiness,
and moan is my laughter.

And i have found my society.
the pain-lover society.

yes sir and ma'am
that's me.
sadomasochist,
am, have always been and will be.
in and out,
all through the life.
and i am proud to be one.