Ensnared by the Devil?

It's sometimes bewildering how the Fates will play with a mere mortal like me.
After a pretty long dry spell, it's suddenly men galore!

It apparently is quite the hassle having to juggle multiple responsibilities at one go- the seasoned 'Player', the self-proclaimed 'Good Guy', the whatever 'Boyfriend' and the ever-present 'F.B.'.
Playing the field while trying to hold on to that man you deem as the more 'suitable candidate' is certainly not an easy task. The lure of the 'sexcitement' do at times overrule the logical mind.

The situation is further complicated as one unfolds the stories behind each complex individual
- pending breakup (or maybe has broken up and patched back?), entanglement with a psychotic girlfriend, a satyric dude with a very packed sex schedule and of course my hopeless 'relationship' or whatever you may call it.

As interesting it may seem to be, it has been giving me plenty of sleepless nights- wondering or otherwise....

When The Best Is Never Good Enough

It was all deja-vu when I read the email:
'You are the BEST gal friend I can ever possibly ask for. It's got nothing to do with you. It's just me. I love you but I'm still not ready for commitments. Perhaps I'm just not the marrying kind. I am happy with what we are now.'

The warning bells ring loud and clear. The pattern is all so clear. It's the same hellish thing over and over again....
What he really means is that I'm just not GOOD enough a gal for him to wanna settle down with.

While it warms my heart to hear the touching words of appreciation, it crushes me even more knowing that my relationship is built on a basis of no foreseeable, commitment-free future

It doesn't matter anymore how sweet his kisses are, how lovely his flowers can be or how thoughtful he has been. It all comes to naught.
One fine day, I know he's going to walk out of my life because he has met the RIGHT gal to marry.
It's an absolutely depressing truth.

You can Never Change His Style, Just Like You Can Never Change Him?

It is quite the revelation. A girl can never change a man, just like she can never change his style….

It may mean that I can possibly never change my boyfriend’s obsession with schedule and timeliness. And it can also mean that I’ll never get him to wear those Matrix-like long coats that I really like. Most importantly, it means that I’ll never get to change his warped sense of logic about expediency and horrors of all horrors, his views on our relationship.

But I live in the hope that maybe, with the right mindset and the appropriate method, I’ll be able to imperceptibly nudge him towards that certain desired direction. This is definitely not classified as attempting to change your man. Think of it more as a form of slight, just a slight, behavior modification…

Boys to Men or just Boys to BIGGER Boys?...

How many times have we heard this – ‘There's a boy in every man’.
In my terms, it simply means- in every physiologically-developed male, there lies a psychologically-challenged brain.

Indeed, it is amazing that science has yet to unravel this mystery that has been around for as long as since Adam and Eve?...

It is a natural process that as the body matures, so does the mind. But somehow, the male species has decided to veer off this normal course of progression and put his mental growth on hold indefinitely. (I’m not sure if it’s due to the presence of 2 heads that confuses the 1 brain- which way should it go?)

Men celebrate the fact that they are able to embrace that youthful (or should I say childish) exuberance in life THROUGHOUT their lives. Throw them a Light Saber sword and it’s likely that they wield it with the same enthusiasm whether they are 8, 18 or 80. (Too bad, it doesn’t work the same way for their other more important swords that sadly, flag with age.)

But here comes the perplexing puzzle. When one behaves like a kid, one will get duly chastised like a kid too. But no no… hell forbids! This is the exact part which these BIG children hate and believe that they SHOULD get away with it. ‘Dun act like my mom! I know what I’m doing!’

A frown and a censure for the few words that you, as a girlfriend, might have possibly uttered for having to clean the mud they drag around the house from their so-called healthy soccer-cum-fight sessions. After which, they continue swigging beers on the nice clean couches in their stinky sweat-stained soccer shirts.

And so as I’m ranting on and on about the unfairness of it all, all the men-boys are carrying on their never-ending parties in the Never-Never Land with Peter Pan (hopefully not with MJ!).

But before I end, I need to say this : FOR F*%K’S SAKE, PLEASE GROW UP!

The Highflyer Club

What is about pilots that make them so alluring? Or rather should I say, the few dashing pilots who I happen to know and would love to lay my hands on.
It is always fun when I hang around with this group of extremely sexy men.

Is it that elusive way-out-of-reach appeal? Or that exhilarating giddy rush that they always bring? The charm, the confidence and the worldliness.... potent and lethal, absolutely intoxicating.

Whatever the situation is, these high-flyers maybe just miles above my league...

Slaves of Desire

Men have always been condemned as slaves to their lascivious natures, portrayed as thinking and acting with their other infamous 'brainless head'.
However, while the two heads don't frequently interact for men, women it seems, have their clits attached to their brains (unfortunately).

For men, more often than not, what happens down there, stays there.
Their skirt-chasing silly antics end once their job down there is done.
And then off they go again, on their merry ways, searching for new and greener pastures.

For women, a night of passion tends to create some dangerous illusions as the intimate physical act blurs the strict boundaries between pure sex and real love.
Confusion ensues and we end up enslaving ourselves un/subconsciously.

At times like these, I wonder who are the worse slaves of their sexual desires- men or women.
While it appears that a male frees himself from the bondage after slaking his wanton thirst, the fairer sex simply gets entangled in a crazy losing game.

Women, Thy Art Food!

It is pretty amazing how men can and do at times 'commodotize' women.
In a particular drinking session, a few male buddies had likened women to food.


DC, a veteran in the playing field, had apparently sampled a wide variety of 'cuisine'- from Fish &
Chips to Wanton Mee, Tandoori Chicken to Nasi Lemak, Sauerkraut to Masala Thosai...
(In particular, we noted his inclination towards European fare.)

As one could guess by now, each dish was indicative of a certain ethnicity.
It had been fun racking our brains for a representative chow.
But that was all the fun there was to it.

On a more sober note (after the alcohol effects wore off), I do not exactly appreciate the analogy.
Food is normally enjoyed and subsequently flushed out of the system via taking a dump.
Somehow I would like to think that I would be there to stay, in their (i.e. men) system, for a long long while...

(P.S. I happen to be on a strict Wanton Mee diet! =p)

Love's Paradox - So Near Yet So Far

Why is it that distance makes the heart grow fonder and yet nearness breeds detachment?

Since when has familiarity stopped being a comforting thing?
Is the excitement of the unknown more important that the reassuring regularity of life daily dozes?

I have long tire of the promise of the exhilarating uncertainties.
I yearn for the soothing conventional ordinariness.
But what about you?... When will you stop and will you ever stop for me?...

The Untimely 'Flow Of Tide'.

*Beep Beep* It was the message alert.

Boy: Hey are you out?
Gal: Nope. What about you? Drinking again?

Boy: Yeah. Heading to XXX for a couple of beers. Boring. So what are you doing at home? Are your folks in?
Gal: Well, I'm in bed with cramps... Just as bored.

And after which, the phone remained silent for the rest of the night.

Well, I suppose I got the hint.
On a more positive note, I've learnt that the flow is certainly a more effective No than simply saying No...

But then again, it ain't the WORD of my raging hormones!!!

Hope for the Hopeful? I Most Certainly Hope So..

Just when I despair, a tiny miracle blossoms most unexpectedly.
Like a whiff of fresh air, IT infuses and invigorates my being.
The utter delight- it's unbelievably sweet and incredibly intoxicating.

And just when I despair....

Yet, I cannot help but wonder.
Is IT the REAL hope or just a figment of my very hopeful imagination?
The signs - it's seemingly so clear yet so confusing.

And so I wonder...

The 'Correct' Formula?..

According to a very conservative someone (who's still a firm believer of certain traditions, e.g. virginity + marriage), the proper sequence goes like this:-

First comes Love, next comes Relationship, Marriage comes right after and then finally, comes Sex.

• Love + Relationship = Marriage + Sex

But in the modern context today, the re-arranged sequence goes mostly like this:-

Sex 'Comes' first, next comes Relationship? (or sort of...) and if ever, comes Love?, then finally/hopefully Marriage? will come along.

• Sex + Relationship? = Love? + Marriage?
  

Maybe we are indeed messing it up..
Perhaps that's why everything ends with a huge ? ?

Soulmates - The Modern Fairytale

I remembered that once in utter desperation, I sobbed my sob story to some psychic online.
Somewhere along the US$15 10-min chat, the inexplicable word 'soulmate' popped out.

And so I wonder. If one has deemed the other to be soulmate, conversely why isn't the feeling reciprocated?
How is it that while life can be complete for one, it appears otherwise for the other?
What then defines soulmate?

It's a puzzle that I've never managed to solve.
Maybe I'll never be able to unravel the mystery.
(But I'm hoping not!)

For now, I guess it's just me and my unrequited passion, a soulmate-less gal waiting for her next great love.

Since When Has Cheating Become A Norm?!

How is it that one can cheat without feeling any remorse?
Is the heart simply hardened by cynicism- everyone or most people cheat right?
Or could it be distrust inherent in the relationship has closed the mind to guilt?

But if the dreams were any indication, I suppose self-reproach does manifest itself in the most basic manner even as logic tries to shut it out.
One cannot never be as flippant as one appears to be.

It's bizarre but it's probably true.
Maybe I do need a beer afterall...

A Foolish Love

I never for a moment doubt it when you finally say the 3 most precious words to me.
But I too, never for a moment doubt that your love for You is greater than your love for Me.

No matter how special you believe I am to you, I'll never be as special as you are to yourself.
This is the undeniable truth...

Still, I remain committed to you.
This is the power of love, an all-consuming, selfless love.

And it is with great conviction and absolute no regrets that I pledge my strong devotion and love to you.

The Dry Spell

The long absence signifies the state of doldrums, utter depression- no love, no sex.

Like a desert that thirsts for the rain after a very long parched season, I'm ready for some much-needed nourishment.

So, I'm once again hunting for the excitement and thrill to light up my otherwise mundane existence.
And what better places to fish than the usual neon-flashy, alcohol-plentiful clubs?

Restraint or Release?

I'm trying to reconcile to the fact that a few months of non-sexual activity can possibly result in a catastrophic tragedy.

Maybe the sperms building up in the testicles, not having an out, simply shoot up into the brains and explode, causing certain death.

I'm still not convinced. It's simply an effortless way of allowing the brainless head to rule.

Which do You Prefer?

A hot, steamy affair that sizzles with unbridled and uncontained passion or a stable, predictable relationship that speaks of familiar sex and companionship?

I think age has mellowed me. I prefer the latter....

An Eye for The French Kiss

The couple made some sizzling-hot eye contact...
As the guy bent over to claim the luscious lips, he bounced back immediately in pain...

Apparently when the lusty gal stuck out her tongue prematurely, it poked him in the eye.

Needless to say, the moment was all over. The guy nursed his injured eye and kept a safe distance.

When Passion Fizzles, So Does Love.

I was munching my apple and watching reality courtroom TV.
An interesting case: a woman cited insufficient sex as grounds for divorce.

She heatedly testified to the deterioration of their sexual life: from daily couplings to a once-a-week session.
Amidst oohs and aahs of the audience, the man defended the so-called apathy with: long tiring work hours.

It seems that while one can never get enough of the zealous romps during courtship (note: sleep is never an issue here!), the ardor soon disappears as the relationship forms a semblance of stability. The fervor gives way to a prolonged lull as fatigue from the stressful lives kicks in.

A sex timetable replaces spontaneity. More often than not, the once fiery foreplay turns into a hasty wham-bam affair.
Inevitably, the physical distance translates into an emotional detachment.

So as busy modernists, how do we then fit some undying passion and love into our very hectic schedules?

Talking About the Elusive Big 'O'...

Women are achieving the big O from sexual intercourse (according to the trashy mag and novels).

Experts dish out advice on self-exploration and different sexual positions to detect the legendary G-spot.
It seems that once you hit the mythical spot, you are guaranteed the peak of your life!

After many stoic attempts, I have accomplished nothing but sore muscles as the G continues to evade me.
Sadly, the only O I ever get from men is that heady excitement of a conquest.

However nothing beats a good physical frolick coupled with a strong mental bond.
The titillation of the mind is definitely more potent than just mere physical gratification.