Believe what you will

In case it wasn't already obvious, to my dying fan base, I want to say that I've been taking a break from both reality and the written world. I've been writing (not working on them because they aren't a construction site) some songs. After a rather crappy 2007, I finally read all those piled up fortune cookies in my bottom drawer. Got sick of getting screwed over and clinging to some distant memory of the past.

My father and I are not really the type to sit down and have a conversation. Actually, up until a two or years ago, we weren't really capable of anything. Talking, looking at each other, let alone being in the same room. It isn't that I am not grateful to the man that sacrificed his childhood and teenage years to take care of us, doing his best to provide us with food and toys so that my sister and me never felt for a second that we were unfortunate. It's thanks to him that I think that Burger King and Chef Boyardee are fine cuisine.

The other thing about my sperm donor (as I fondly called him) is that he is completely screwed up in the relationship department. I don't think he's ever had a stable, monogamous relationship and what makes this worse is that he is a shrink. So I can safely say that all shrinks are fucking crazy. Some just know how to hide it better.

It seems to me that dad has been undergoing some sort emotional struggle because of this. He's been smoking. My dad doesn't smoke. Not even the four times that I've been in jail. Not even when I told him I was into men. Not even when the woman that gave birth to me and my sister fucked things over and left. But NOW he's stressed out.

Maybe he's met his match.

Loving and Living - Both Extremely Hazardous

I'm back from Georgia. But guessing from the big ass question mark on your forehead, you had absolutely no idea I was gone in the first place. That's fine. I've been missing for a while either way. I had a promotional photoshoot at this fancy hotel called (appropriately) Château Élan Winery & Resort. It's very pretty, without a doubt.



It looks exactly like that when you're there, I'm not kidding. It's beautiful and apparently a favorite spot for weddings. I managed to witness two myself though quite frankly it's so fucking cold there at times I don't know how they did it. Oh before you pull the plug and run away screaming in terror, I was dressed as a groom in a make-believe wedding for the photo purposes. Quite a change since I'm traditionally half naked during my shoots. It was cool. Considering I got to live something I otherwise wouldn't have.

I'm thinking of cutting my hair. I'm getting tired of the locks. And no, I'm not SHAVING all my hair off. I'm really not in the mood to follow that fad. Just a bit shorter, maybe clean cut or not. I'm in the mood to change. I need to validate myself through this change.

Funny that my twin and I have a shit load of stuff in common. Our insecurity, our need for skin. Wow, talk about oncoming memory traffic. I just think that we both need a lot of love, a lot of support, and a lot of touching. Dad told me to buy this book because it'll help me out. I'm not good at expressing love and Thierry and I speak abysmally (new word) different languages. We both express love in very different ways which is why we Stockers go through constant suffering. It's not our partners fault, though I love to think otherwise >/

Watching Deal or No Deal is distracting me. Along with my voracious appetite. I miss my twin. I miss my dad. I miss my Thierry.

*growls at blogger*

I’m currently in the Dominican Republic, in Puerto Plata to be more specific. We got here on Wednesday. Yesterday we went to swim with the dolphins in Ocean World. It was fun. I went snorkeling too. Loads of big fishies and pretty corals. Rink hardly moved, he was too busy staring and being amazed by all the prettiness. I had to drag him everywhere; he’s still being a dickhead. He’s blocked when it comes to me, as the lovely witches from Santo Domingo would say.

At times when I’m with him, I get so confused and angry, I want to break his skull and look at him lie helplessly on the floor. He would plea, his sky blue eyes on the verge of tears. I would have him submitted, like a fallen prey in the hands of a merciless killer. I would lick his tears and kiss his lips, dry from the fear. In pure delight I would lick the blood off his face, then I would get on top of him to kiss him… to feel him. His body is such a marvel. It twists and flinches and turns all possible shades of red. Blood and tears. Just thinking about it makes me want to do him over and over him. *insert deep breath* who said sick pleasure couldn’t be equally enjoyable? Or even more?

Have I ever described my lover? He can be such a pest. Mind games are his speciality. He loves to give me a jesting, condescending look. He delights in tricking people and confusing them so they can loose focus. He seems to find the human mind to be amusing, specially when it looses track of what it’s saying or doing. He’s a mirage, harboring his innocent malice beneath an angel’s face. But have I ever told you how beautiful is the sky in his eyes? You can almost see stars take a peak at night. Those same eyes that hold so many secrets from me, those same eyes that submerge you in a frozen wasteland… he can stroke you with a gaze and make love to you with a smile. His hair is soft, black silk threads woven to perfection. I’ve wondered if roses kissed his skin at birth…

He inspires poetic verses out of me, along with insufferable bouts of lust and desire. Last night we had one of our famous random fights. It was just so stupid. And even so, I discovered something amidst all the crap. As my last bit of patience died away as a worn candle I saw that he’s every bit of my perfect imperfection. Haven’t I always described him as a fallen angel? My Dark Eros. I kiss your anger, I drink from your desolate sadness, I breathe your melancholy… what do you search for in others that you can’t find in your own self?

You grate my nerves you little asshole. You know how bad I want you, you know how you want me just as well! What the fuck is it with these questions?! You know I won’t answer them. Are you even more cynical than myself when it comes to you? Fucking pisses the hell out of me that you think everyone is as shallow as you are. You think you are only worth for the sex?! And of all people I AM telling you this. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to be angry. I swear but CHRIST, you sure as hell don’t help. You have any doubts, ASK ME. You have a mouth for something other than kissing and sucking.

To be continued…? Tan tan tan…

It's late

My nose is hurting from all the cold I made it go through. I've been looking for Rink for more than an hour, two or three minimun. I'm beat. He can come home whenever the fuck he wants. I hate these rendez-vous. I hate feeling so self-concious about my degree of selfishness and above all, I hate the feeling of change. I feel so lost and trapped. I hate sharing with people, I hate walking among them, I want to stay forever in this little coccoon in my room. Safe, undisturbed. I could care less of the world right now, I don't understand why my body reacts differently from what I think.

I wonder how Veronique feels, trapped in her glass world.

My wall of concrete has been torn, makes me feel exposed and not like my pictures. I want my wall back. I don't want to feel like this, so free and so many positive and happy thoughts. It's SICKENING. I want to go back into the subtle depressive world I lived in, I thrived there.

My core feels hot and bubbly, when in reality it should be icy and stone hard. I want to go to sleep, forever. But not in death, I'm not done yet in life to die.

I hate myself. I don't know why.
I hate the way I can't understand my own feelings
I hate the way I make everyone unhappy.
I don't hate my selfishness, without that, I wouldn't be. I don't know what to do. I don't know why I feel so suffocated.

Little asshole came back NOW. How I want to hang him by his balls and how much I have to contain myself so I don't do anything irrational like cutting his head off and drinking his blood. And the best part? It's all on purpose, he 'planned' this in a way. He planned these reactions, he wanted them, he went out to look for them. It's either that or he's got some nerve... ¬¬

For real, I'm sick of this. I can't STAND this vulnerability that has been trying to take over me. I'm going back into being that bastardic son of a bitch S&M asshole or I'm gonna die sooner than anyone expects.

*1st thing, get rid of the "!" in my posts. They are not part of my character.
*2nd thing, no more laughing or smiling or being that lovey dovey or anything related to any of these areas.
*3rd thing, limit contact with people.
*4th thing, keep silence, no more talking unless it's absolutely necessary.
*5th thing, get a gun to see if I feel like a fit in some other realm, like HELL.
*6th thing, stop caring.
*7th thing, live in oblivion and submerged in songs.
*8th thing, no more corny/cliche shit. My reputation is on the line, as is my ego.
*9th thing, stop being obsessive/stupid/illogical/clingy. You are irking others and yourself.
*10th thing, lather + rinse + repeat (all these steps) = the Michelangelo we all know.

I hate the "oh-dear-he's-so-troubled" kind of crap. Leave me alone. Demn you.

It's funny isn't it?

The way I hide these embarrassing entries. The way I hide, looking for secrecy and privacy behind these invisible walls. But I can't hide what I am or who I am in here.

So we are in the process of recreating, restarting my previous world. I can't help but feel utterly-- confused. Does this mean I loose what I-- Of course, he's not DEAD or anything and there are many a times I want to wring his deliciously delicate little neck and make soup out of him, but without him? I can no longer live. Pathetic I know, it's hardly me. He's done this to me. He has devoid me of my true self.

I wonder life without him. I wonder days and years without him and the image is always the same. Silence. No words. No feelings anymore. I don't believe one can feel the same about someone else. If you could, then you truly never felt for that person. It was all bullshit. It's true, Rink. I am a simple minded person. I either love you or don't... did I just say that?

Sometimes I believe I'm completely disconnected of my true being, of my real nature to hate, to loathe, to isolate, to protect only my twin. I have opened myself only to him, I have become vulnerable to his words when I think they mean something but then I snap out of it. How can I believe him? How can I know...? then it hits me. You know him, don't you?

What if I don't? what if I pretend to know him? I want him. He's mine. He's not Lucy's, nor Ashley's, nor Vero's, nor anyone who might claim otherwise. He's mine. But what I have I done to keep him? Why do I always question my actions? why don't I ever wonder if I will be loved back? does it matter really...?

He hurts me bad at times. Real bad but I end up looking at him and smiling internally. I touch his skin and caress his hair with my fingers; wincing because he's so delicious all over. My own skin itches, aches and hurts when I don't do anything. I want to throw him on a bed and do him, over and over again, until he would be so tired and confused he won't know how to talk or who he is. He'll only have me. I will bask in his smell and hold him tightly, almost crushing a few of his bones. Then I will kiss him.

How can I be so full of crap? It still surprises even me.

The world is square, triangle, circular, rectangular... it depends on the way YOU look at it.

What's with the subject headline? You could say I hit my head against the door once or twice today, or maybe that I'm suffering from an optimistic flea bite or that I just feel plain old sick. None of the above are true... except for the first one. Anyways, today it has been quite uneventful so I decided to go to a nearby phsycological institute and look at crazy people bang their heads against the walls. Close but no, I would have free access considering my sperm donor is a psychiatrist. I went to a plaza. I sat in one of the benches, drinking Dr. Pepper and I started to watch people [stare at them is more like it]. It's just funny the way girls fight with their cheating boyfriends over the phone, how the moms scold their kids, using their favorite weapon, guilt. They ask ask what would his/her friends think if they saw him/her crying, and then they ask why is it that people try so hard to impress others. Perhaps that's because it's the way they were raised to think.

I'm a firm believer that what people think is crap. They try everything in their power to sabotage your existance, make it more miserable for the sake of seeing you suffer... there are hardly any people with a kind heart that like you not because you have money, or you are hot, or you have a cool car but just because you are you. Yet I am not looking for love nor a steady relationship. I just feel bad for those people who go on looking for their so-called "soulmate". I believe in no such thing. This will probably come back and bite me in the ass later. How can there be a person for each of us if the women population overpowers that of the men? Does it mean there can be bigamy? Or homosexuality?

I am honestly annoyed by lovesick fools (aka Ashley). I swear, their motto must be "Je vois la vie en roseee..." because they find everything ever so beautiful and ever so perfect just because they think that the other person like them... or whatever. It's just sickening to us healthy people.

Funny thing is, my mind seemed to drift off in thought while I was sitting on the bench. I didn't notice when it started to rain until my vision got blurry. Though I just sat there. For some weird reason, the rain felt comforting, welcoming. After I got real soaked, you know, that's the third bath of the day for me... I returned to campus. Now, I'm sitting down on my bed with blankets wrapped around me and a pouch of ice on my head. Common cold ¬¬ Benjamin is arriving tomorrow from his family trip to New York City... hopefully I'll be able to stand, not have the cramps I am having plus my nose defrosted so I can go and pick him up. You know. I AM his private chauffer... cheap-@$$.