Monthly Archives: February 2014

Missing Myself

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Here’s the truth:  Over the course of 2 months I’ve lost interest in everything.  A big part of this happened due to the unexpectedness of life and mostly because I was losing what I consider to be my identity at the core to strange and newer thoughts and to feelings I would never even give a seed to sprout from.

I went from power poses to vulnerable ones.  I went from an assertive voice to a squeak of a mouse.  I went from eating like a beast to eating like a tiny bird.  I went from being sure and proud of every decision I come to make up to now to drowning in what others wanted for me over night.  And how was I not myself?

It wasn’t until this week where I started to listen to music again.  It wasn’t until this week where I let nature come into my heart once more and touch my face and allowed it to perk up every one of my senses again while I paced myself from short travels or long city walks.

The only thing that has gotten me out of bed has been the productivity, the goal of going to school to get one degree so I can get another.  And it’s whatever works, whatever gets you through to the next day so one doesn’t feel reckless.  But I’m still out of control, I’m still holding onto negative views and I’m out of order when it comes to concentration.  It’s completely unlike me and if it wasn’t for my inner strength I would imagine I’d let go because all I feel is alone.

The last few nights I’ve taken mere opportunities to perform some bodyweight squats because in the back of my head I’ve brainwashed myself to move it or lose it.  Not too long ago before I knew what I knew I had taken a week off from having a troubling head/chest cold and Dark Knight being the strict personal trainer he is at the time made sure to pat and grope my ass to say, “Just checking.  It still feels firm.”  And of course I could have cursed him out and brought up the double standard views of genders except I didn’t because I understand what it means to be this way.  But the reality is there are countless factors that determine how quickly strength or physical looks are to diminish and I’m not within that realm of possibility.

Now I have to be smart and heal from the procedure I had on Monday.  I’m looking at (hopefully) another 2 weeks and if lifting heavy steel wasn’t an issue enough, there’s the not having actual penetration part either.  Oh goodie!

I could only remember the last few workouts I had in the beginning weeks of January.  One was working out with an acquaintance of mine (I forced him) and we worked out upper body until I caught a dead arm and until he pretty much tapped out on going set after set.  After we were done I had to pressure him to hydrate like a camel and eat something because he was coming down with chills as he did his best to try and keep up with me for every single static hold, rep, pyramid set and every other compound exercise while losing track of time.  We never made it to the movies.  But I was high and delighted as if I had an orgasm with merry smiles. Fuck me! I even caught people wishing they could be my training partner since the eyes never lie.

I remember the second workout was in my house where I supersetted (E-Z Curl) Small Barbell 40lbs (all I have at home) Squats with Push ups for as many sets as I could give as I was struggling to breathe still from a really bad hacking cough and lungs constricted where I needed my asthma pump from time to time.  Then I threw in Pauline Nordin’s The Butt Bible right after that workout to make sure I felt as if I worked all angles on my legs and glutes.  It did the trick because after all was done I felt orgasmic and wiped out once again.

I’m quick to believe for a moment (due to freaking out!) that once I reach a certain degree of shit that I can’t turn back and do what I used to do the way I’ve always done it (which is total bullshit by the way)!  It makes me as happy as receiving oral sex to now eagerly daydream about going back to the gym.  I feel I’m ready mentally, not yet physically.  But I can’t wait to bring a new attitude and vigor to my sets with various movements.  I can’t wait to steal the limelight from others who are working next to me.  I can’t wait until I feel somewhat sexy again.  I can’t wait to feel the blood pumping throughout my body making me feel beastly and edgy and powerful.  I can’t wait!

It’s strange to feel like I’m sitting on the bench for something that was out of my control.  I don’t ask life why anymore.  I stopped that.  One reason is because it sounds beyond melodramatic and I’m sure there are lessons in place for me as much as there are mistakes.  But even though I told myself not to deny anything I feel during this delicate emotional and mental moment I have to move slow although I really just want to move on to a different chapter in my life.

Still I have a friendly jealousy towards all the amazing people who are working out currently and I get to watch their progress on Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr and Instagram.  No matter what social media I’m on there’s fitness at every turn.  I’ve been enjoying some folks who have been taking the time out to send me their photo improvement as well.  They don’t know that underneath it all they’re feeding me constant energy and therefore are inspiring me.

The other truth is:  I’m determined, passionate, have good work ethics, have a thirst for more so I’ll never be able to truly let go. I’ve never been a weak person.  I’ve always had and continue to have a fire in me that won’t quit.  So in the end I’ll get through this as everything else I’ve gotten through in my life.  However this time around and to take a quote from Country Strong I want to, “Fall in love with as many things as you can (or possible).”  I want to give that a go too and maybe we all should?

And as far as tonight goes I’m flirting much with the idea of Yoga.  How much strain could it possibly put my body through right?  I will do something therapeutic this late evening like cook dinner and make tacos. 😉


If you manage to read this all on your first time:  Thank you!  And even if you didn’t, thank you anyway!  And if you come here to check my page out regularly enough to read it thank you!  And if this is your first time on my page:  Thanks for coming aboard at this moment! 😀





And perhaps I was calling you on every single day of the year subconsciously.  There was an unrelenting chime in the air, a love attraction frequency of high desire on the balloon of my aura and on the ointment I placed on the nude of my wrists with your presence on it.  You changed over night with a hunger that consumed your own calmness and forced out your desperation at the temple of my being where I looked down on you for once my sweet giant.

But I remember being with this other guy, my temporary high in the backseat of a car and there a moonlit sky shining through the glass and the police and the skunks of the night patrolled both making their own rounds.  I was with an obsessive mature man posing his green werewolf eyes on the unclothed parts of my skin where he seared it with established longing for my youth.  We made out heavy covering the light of the moon with fog; our faces were flushed, our jaws wide open and our tongues jolting of wild electricity.

And he had this magical way of knowing how to bring me closer to him with just his fingertips on the ends of my hair.  Oh how he caressed my hair like a woman with softness like strolling with minimal clothing through a garden of delicate flower petals to feel the sensations of nature.  He was finding his way down, my shirt in custody by the mass of my breasts and he nibbled the entire space of my stomach grabbing onto the sides of my curves.  And I shook and shook in pleasure similar to the first time I received foreplay when I was twelve but I watched his own saliva strings at the corner of his mouth being overran by happiness.

Perhaps I was calling you on every single day of the year subconsciously as I do even now.  It’s why I feel you bother and visit me in my dreams on most nights.  Bet it’s why you called me at 4am, your maniacal self because just as I do, you feel me there.


The Months accumulating in Effect 2


The blood results came back and I became crippled with the news, “You’re pregnant.”  My suspicions were true along with that Tiger dream, the one who magically fixed a uterus back together.  I hung up the phone and backtracked.  Everything made sense:  Breasts filled with voluminous rage, cravings I kept in denial like a drug addict and my stomach rising like yeast.  The sinking feeling of depression, the steady exhaustion, hyper sexual appetite and forgetting about the gym was soon to be up for debate or a choice to make, one that follows instant termination.

Which came first:  The slip of a faulty IUD I’ve had on for years or the pregnancy?  I’m uncertain and so is everyone else.  And if 9 weeks and 2 days weren’t enough time on my plate and in my belly I had to head into the emergency room to figure out if the pregnancy was in fact in my uterus or if it was going to be considered a very dangerous:  Ectopic pregnancy.  I spent the entire day looking at people with different diseases in the hospital and was sure to contact a disease from the man who was vomiting next to me.

And no matter where I went I had to deal with every single nurse and doctor and even my own bizarre GYN stating how I can have this baby if I want to regardless of the small facts like the percentages of miscarriages that derive from the IUD and the first 20 weeks of pregnancy and regardless if the IUD somehow could penetrate the baby itself at some point or another.  It seemed like everyone assumed I’m going to have this baby knowing that the reason why I opted for an IUD in the first place is because it has a 99% effective rate without hormones.  But somehow I managed to be that 0.01% to become pregnant.  Is it safe to say the downside to being healthy is being fertile?  (And I know there are women out there who can’t have kids or are trying to, so it seems with that last statement I’m ungrateful.  I assure you I’m not ungrateful.)

Last night in my honesty I told my aunt about the pregnancy to which she was ecstatic and made me call my mother who cried out of joy for something she could look forward to instead of dying in her nursing home bed who told me to call my brother to let him know he’s going to be an uncle.  They were all just making plans and seeing a future I didn’t.  I never mentioned to them that I have an appointment for termination.  This would break their hearts. Now I’m to lie to them for the next few weeks until I feel they can bear it.  The only person who made a mention of why I’m leaning towards not having the baby was the Indian lady who was probing my vagina with the sonogram dildo.  But I presume she was just a nosy woman or just needed not to feel as awkward as me having that camera dildo in my twat so she became nothing less than a chatty Kathy.

It’s absolutely crazy how people don’t live your life or care to see things from your perspective yet they want to tell you that college isn’t important that having a baby is because you’re not getting any younger and there’s a time limit.  A time limit for whom since I’m of no concern to them?  It’s insulting and it’s basically telling me, “Your life doesn’t matter.  Just have this baby so we the family can live for hope in the name of the future.”

Is anyone truly prepared to have a kid whether financially, emotionally or mentally?

I’ve never really gave it much thought until last week.  I also never gave it much thought to have a child because I’m not at a place where I’m pleased to be.  How would I look like having a child while still living with my roommate?  How would I handle being burdened in my own life and than to bring that forth to my child even if it wouldn’t remember in the early part of their years?  I don’t have family or friends who would be able to babysit for me.  I still want an educational degree that I’ve earned.  I want and need more money.  Surely, all these things can be excuses because there are plenty of people who can do it all or do their best. But it’s not for me.  Not now.  But I realize that no one can be prepared for having a child. It changes the complete fuck out of you. I couldn’t imagine having it at this time.

I was struggling with the thought of being a bad person (something I believe I’m truly not) because not allowing this baby to live will somehow make me a bad person.  Still I did my best to not have a repeat of a second abortion that took place 9 years ago when I was put to sleep.  I was young, scared, full of tears and very emotional even after I dealt with it.  Still 99% is only 99%.  Maybe when I go in this week to take care of the final duties my punishment is being awake while they perform this 3-5 minute procedure.

And in some weird way I feel like I probably deserve it even with the precautions I took.


The Months accumulating in Effect

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I’m putting myself out there more and by more I mean OBVIOUSLY more than usual and MORE personal than some emotional guy’s tongue buried deep inside my precious twat.

I could have started this entry back in November or the last week of December. But really everything seemed to trickle down for me in the beginning of the New Year where I got fired from my job because I had the courage to stand up for what I believe in and for never wavering my principles while keeping my integrity intact.

During this time for a moment I felt down in the dumps like I lost a childhood pet because there was a part of me that felt like perhaps I’ve fallen from grace. With this dark cloud over my head I began to feel ill every time I ate or didn’t for that matter. I found, mentally, I was no longer visualizing, planning, going to sleep, daydreaming or even thinking about my training sessions at the gym.

I became tired at the oddest of times and took naps every chance I got and shortly after I started to sleep up to 11-14 hours a day. Every morning cramps came (and still do) very suddenly like a knock on the door and it found its way into my aura with panic and spanking novelty. Then the headaches, they commenced at any which way and waved over me as if I were its safe harbor. I’ve never felt like this before. What is wrong with me? Could this clearly be depression? A deeply manic episode of sort?

I now look at water with disgust because in my mouth it swiftly tasted like metal. But I’ve been drinking nothing but water for years and over night my body is asking me for a Coke (or two) or Chocolate Milk. All I want is cheese and meat and maybe some potatoes. But my appetite changed on me and I couldn’t handle large portions anymore. Plus I’m horny all the time and haven’t the faintest idea how to turn it off.  I’ve been going full speed and giving the middle fingers to cruise control. Is this an identity crisis? Another transitional change of becoming thirty-two someone has forgot to tell me about?

I grew suspicious of myself. Once again my body betrayed me unexpectedly. What a cunning cunt! I’m being taken hostage; my body doesn’t feel like mine anymore. And I haven’t had a suicidal thought in a decade until tonight.

But I scheduled an appointment with a doctor.

To be continued.