Sex with me

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Into my womb they wish to rest but within their homes, I lay no steps.

I’ve been telling my friends, well because they know me and all, about my upcoming anniversary. Those who know me understand how liberal I am when it comes to sex. They know that sex to me is a physical need like stretching to stay flexible. I am able and have separated sex from love. Sex is physical and love is more than beads of sweat a few times a week.

My friends are amazed. I’m sure a few are even doubtful. I am celebrating my one year of celibacy since my divorce. When I first got divorced about seven years ago, I read and heard about the “going wild” period. The time when you stay open literally and figuratively, but I didn’t think it applied to me. Whoever does! Most of us often think ourselves to be different and above the rest. From that time hence, I dated and had sex. Some lovely, others not so lovely with a few but not so many and never more than one at a time. The initial years were about meeting new people, learning about intimate differences. Then, it became about learning what I liked. I didn’t marry young but married straight out of a Christian home, a Haitian one at that! It meant: lack of experiences and knowledge, particularly self-knowledge. I followed the path. It was school, church, get married, have kids, buy the house. The end. We didn’t know anyone who was divorced, at least in our close circle. We knew people who had kids by accident, meaning out of wedlock but never a divorcee. What do you do with those? If there were, it wasn’t a topic of conversation.

And now I get divorced! You know, always the weird one, doing some crazy thing. My mother spells the end of me. I am going to hell and my sister says I’m a whore. This translates into having sex with more than one person in a lifetime. What do you do when you’ve been told you’re dead and done with, and are nothings well, if you’re me, you live it up. Those years taught me more then I cared to learn about myself, why I got married, why my marriage failed, who he was, what I wanted and how horrible the male specie truly is. I swear, if so own has a decent one, you better put him in a fort and lock that key. Don’t let anyone near him! A decent guy with decent values, integrity, who is kind, giving, open, honest, supportive, faithful and loyal is nearly inexistent. There is no better way than to know a lot about the male specie than when he knows you’re not looking to tie him down. He is not tip toeing around you. He tells you the truth.

But there are others, the truth they know not, breathe not and speak not. I was with two men with narcissistic personality disorders. I had no idea this existed and suffered greatly, especially with the first one. By the second one, I had learned the signs. I watched for the way he treated me. How he never followed up on promises, how he would disappear and keep me at bay, how he made me feel bad about myself, how he would never be there for me, emotionally, physically unless in some way he could profit from it.

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In all these years, I learned the best lesson which is to give of myself to those who show appreciation, who do not only say they appreciate me, but can show signs of affection. They must reliably and consistently be there for me. I was too gullible. Hey! That Christian background again. I was naive. I was honest, too honest and too open, giving intimacy when their doors were locked, opening my home and myself of people who did not know how to give, who did not learn reciprocity. They were takers. They took of me and my peace and my heart and my life. They couldn’t had not a present to invest, but kept on promising tomorrow, which wasn’t theirs to give. They rode on hope and wrung it around my neck ’till it drained the air that I breathed. Yes I offered but they pleaded and promised. It took two for the lessons to be taught. Credit goes to both, the abusers as well as the abused. I won’t say victim. I’m uncomfortable with that term of late.

Yes, one year! One full year when I said enough of the lies and the games and the tormenting! One full year of peace where I wasn’t being treated like I’m stupid, a fool, constantly being taken in by some outlandish, made up story with someone who had nothing to give, jumping between the ex, and a few others. If you’ve been reading my blog these past few years, you can also attest that it is less sad and less angry than before. Sex can do that, knock you out. Sex is great I assure you but be careful who you share it with, always. Make sure they cherish the gift that you are. They don’t have to live you but they must respect, cherish and honor you! It is not for me to change others. I can only change me. And this new me is extremely guarded, with everyone and everything. Maybe it is a bad thing, but I’m better for it. Now, I’m more at peace and happy. Life is after all about happiness and celibacy has given me that and so much more.

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Here’s to once upon a moment!!

Shalom!

I forgot how to be soft

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I had this “aha” moment today. It hit me hard, so hard that I was crying like a baby.

No man is going to fix you. No man is going to love a broken woman or spend time finding out why you are so broken. You need time to heal, discard the bad memories. They may not hurt you anymore but they changed you. They didn’t change you for the better either. You forgot who you used to be. You forgot the young woman who used to smile at silly jokes, who was able to take a joke as a joke. Your guards are up so high and the railings, in flames. You are not just guarded, but hard.

You are a hard woman, tough as nails, scraping knuckles that come knocking. Yes, you were hurt and the pain you carry inside comes as far as your childhood, from taunts by others who were mean and cruel to you. You learned to stand up for yourself, how to take a paunch and roll with a smile on your face. That was good, it protected the child that you were.

And love found you, with this one and that one who didn’t understand and so many who pulled the wool over your eyes, who stole your innocence, erased the tidbit of naïveté and good heart you were trying to hold on to. They used you. They played you. They blamed you. They made you feel small and stupid. They used you for your body and for your money as they lied, telling you they love you or worse, they blamed you for not being what they weren’t either or even tried to be.

You are a hard woman, so hard that you sense danger at every turn, always ready to defend your honor, integrity, pride, achievements, motherhood, children, work, decisions. You constantly play defense.

Why? Yes, no one ever stood up for you. No one ever fought for you or loved you enough to stand by you or stay to hold you. They just came to take and they took. They took everything you willingly gave because you cared, you loved too hard, too soon, too much, too deeply. They drained you of every inch of peace, and self-love. They took your trust away. They took your heart and your mind. Don’t let them take more and for longer than they stayed.

You stopped laughing from your toes, stopped managing your words, your tone. Is that the woman you want to be? Is this how you want your kids to remember you? You are filled with anger. The abuse that went too long because you were looking for feelings that did not exist, or could not comprehend that you were being used and played and mistreated and not appreciated, has left you so angry. At yourself. At the world. At these men. For your losses. For your innocence. For your heart. For your tears. For you. These men didn’t owe you protection. No one owes you protection.

But darling, don’t confuse strength with being hard. You have a heart encased in stone and do not mind how you speak. You speak truth like bullets and they do more harm than heal.

Don’t let those who hurt you win in the end! You may never be that woman again who took everyone at face value. You may never be the woman who could laugh from her toes to the tip of her hair but don’t be hard on those who open themselves to you, who show you their vulnerable selves. Be soft. Be feminine. Be kind. Be good, to everyone, even those who don’t do great things, who are unkind. Those things will happen sometimes. Not everyone is out to get you or harm you. Sometimes people make honest mistakes.

Be strong but flexible. Be wise but kind. Mind your tone. Mind your words. Everyone isn’t out to get you. Yes, you may know so many things but intent will always escape you. What shouldn’t, is the depth of who you are that should shine through in your interactions, in everything you do.

Remember today. Remember this moment. You hurt someone with your words. You may have been right but you didn’t have to do it this way. Others may have hurt you in the past and done things that crushed you wide shut, still, be soft. Don’t be a tool for pain as your abusers were, as those who cared not for you, for your heart were towards you. Don’t let them steal that side of you.

Please, be soft.

No one will care enough to help you mend, that’s your job, to patch your wounds as you heal. Don’t penalize them for it either. They don’t owe you that. And until you are fully healed and whole, you may hurt others in so doing. Don’t be that bundle of hurt.

Don’t lose yourself to someone who’s already gone! Mend!

“Do not fall in love with people like me
we will take you to
museums and parks
and monuments
and kiss you in every beautiful
place so that you can
never go back to them
without tasting us
like blood in your mouth.”
― Caitlyn Siehl

Irony is: this stands true whether they were good or bad to you if you’re an empath that is. Shalom!

What men taught me

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What men taught me!

If every bad experience is meant as a lesson I’ve managed to pick up quite a few from the men in my life. Many were lessons on who I am, what I want and who I want to become. They’ve also shown me where I wish to go, what kind of a person I want to be. Women couldn’t teach me these lessons as most of us are nurturers. As such, we are too in touch with our emotions causing us to second guess ourselves, a lot.

The most important lessons were:

1- My needs come first and are non negotiable
Women are taught to compromise. In our attempt to please, we forget about our own needs. We know how to bend and do so willingly, at the expense of our mental and emotional states. We come across as if we don’t matter, that we don’t have needs and that our focus should be on pleasuring others. We spend time learning what to do and how to do them so we can please those in our lives. Men don’t do that. They come in the way they are, take it or leave. They will parlay, tease, insinuate or demand until you adapt to them, their ways. Men don’t have any idea what compromise entails. Few, very few do or willingly want to.

2- Don’t apologize for who you are
Whatever it is that you are, whether good or bad, don’t ever let anyone tell you it is not acceptable. Have you ever heard a man speak ill of his beer belly or the horrible goatee that makes him look like a goat or his funny bushy eyebrows or nose hair or hairy ears that make anyone want to puke? No way. Not at all. Ever. Men don’t listen to ideas from magazines or radio, tv hosts telling them what is acceptable. They define what is acceptable.

3- When you walk away, don’t look back
When a man tells you he is done. He is done. He will not cry over letters. He will not save emails or text messages. He will not look back because it is over (maybe for sex, if that was good, if he is in between chicks. Sex is air to a man, nothing personal I assure you). He is done, just like the day he never knew your name, he is right back to that day. He probably will not even show up at your funeral. He doesn’t know you. Done. Nonexistent. End of story. I’ve embraced that lesson. The same way it is easy for a man to walk off into the sunset, uncaring how the break up will affect me, that’s the same way I handle closure. We are done. Who are you?

4- Women are replaceable. In my case, men are replaceable.
A man loves you as far as you are useful. But, let you walk away, he will not have you believe that is the end of his world. He may ask you to reconsider, but is not sitting around waiting for you to make up your mind. Basically, you are not all that and a bag of chips. There are plenty of other fish. A fish is a fish is a fish. They do the same thing, which is to provide. Happiness isn’t tied to one person, you leave and someone else will come around and I’ll be happy. Actually, that may occur the same night, right in front of you, on his twitter, Facebook or Instagram, busily hooking up with someone else. You are replaceable.

With us ladies, he walks away and we are holding on to God knows what. We are living in the memories instead of accepting the reality that he took your money to learn French for the Canadian girl he met online, while he is courting the girl in New York that he used your money to buy the ticket to go visit. We bury ourselves in tears, then anger, and regret. We fear every other guy that comes along and allow the bastardly dog to ruin us for years to come.

5- Love is the one who puts up with all your shit
We call it “settling” ladies. Women hate that word. We feel it means getting less than we deserve. Men interpret it as emotions don’t have to matter “much” as long as she fits the bill. Usually that includes: “no baggage, hot in bed, decent job, decent body, can keep house, not annoying, allows me to do what I want when it matters to me”. Many men settle more than they fall in love. But, you would never know it. You would have to be so close to them (rare) for them to admit it to you. And because they are not that emotionally vested, their marriages will work. They will stay there and never leave. It is a sort of an arranged marriage. They search for certain characteristics. Once they find the one who meets them, they lock her in. They will make the best of it until death.

The male specie is indeed a weird one. Much as my male friends wish me to understand that they are like women, I can’t see it at all. Men are too calculating to be like women. They are full of confidence bordering on cockiness. They live on ego, uncaring who it hurts in the process, a trait not approved in women by society. Some would even believe that women have no ego. And we do. They breathe and live ego. If you can manage a man’s ego, then you’ll be in his life forever. Don’t criticize him, make him believe he is God and you’re friends for life. Women tend to be filled with insecurities, in need of connection, thus dependent on relationships forged on “likability”. Wanting to be liked is dependent on others’ opinions. That is one of women’s greatest shortfall. A man knows he is God and isn’t waiting for you to confirm it.

I’m not saying these are the answers for everyone or to everything but it sure gives me a whole new perspective for the future!

Felix fin de semana!!!

Muchos besos!

L.

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Do you even matter? Does all this matter somehow?

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How can you be certain of what you don’t know?


 

 

You are of value.

It isn’t about how smart or rich or educated. It is not about where you live, what you do or who you know. You are of value. Take away all that you know and there is you. It isn’t about what you do or don’t do. It is about that breath in you.

Are we?

But then I wonder, if you had not a mind to think and the ability to do, would you still be of value? Is value in relation to others or things, the environment or is it inherent to our “being”? Am I even making sense? Yes? No?

So, that breath in you, whether you are brain dead, comatose, in a vegetative state makes you of value I would think, right? But, then again, that value is imputed, you do not, in its simplest form determine value for yourself. It is this idea that was passed on through humanity, whether by osmosis or from some realm unbeknownst to us that existence has value.

It is in that same light that many protect animals, and some adore plants or attribute a certain living power to plants, right?

We want to know we matter. Or, something wishes to teach us that we matter. Maybe. We just want to make existence meaningful, give life meaning. Afterall, what is the point of being when no one chose to be here! Some believe that we, breath, body and soul through certain chemical interactions came to be, thus by accident. I’m discussing humanity, life as we know it, the earth and everything around us. Here by accident. If we are here by accident, why do we hold so dear to being? Why are we obsessed with meaning, purpose, defining self and self-realization? Why do we want to make this, the accident matter?

So, many choose to believe, we were created. If we were, there’s a reason for that, a purpose. Be it, that the gods or a God was cruel to give us this “present”. Is it a gift, if it lacks value?

And others, in their discomfort with the issue of breath, spirit choose to focus on depth. They make their existence about purpose, a passion, giving back. Breath becomes about a presence for others.

Why are we here?
Why are you here?
Why do we matter?
Does life really matter?
Do we really matter?

Some choose to leave this place, on their own terms. We think they are cowards. But are they? Is it cowardly to run towards the unknown? It is scary to think of it. You may choose to end it all in hope of finding peace unknowing where you’ll end up. It’s the unknown scarier? At least the devils here you can battle them, fight them out but what of the devils beyond? What do they look like? What are the rules there? Can we truly end it? When we choose when to go, is it really the end of it all? As in sleep, where our mind disappears, gone the pain, the turmoil, the questions, the shame, the worries, the fear. Are they?

We don’t know, do we? We imagine and build these beliefs on hearsay and witnesses we have never met, until we convict ourselves of them into whatever after.

In the end, what is clear is we are here, wrapped in a cloud of mystery through which we will have to walk through. The journey won’t be the same, we are forced to be here. We are not gods at all, much as many seem to believe. We have a limited will, why we are truly nothing in the big picture, just god in the prism of this decrepit vessel.

So it be.

Tell me

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You want me to tell you a story
Speak of a woman I never met
Draw on kismet
Sing the glorious experiences in dalliances past

You want me
Call on memory, color it happy
Say “joy, joy, was he!”

As the pain
Buries, buries me
Without a veil, no tears in sight
I write my story

Not as fantasy, but a plea
For those who will be, like me
Before the years’ sorrow
Dawns on the ‘morrow

What of me, the wind of fate,
Proclaimed in fierce embrace!
And if ever chance did await
I ran, I ran apace!

Hear not such liberties!
Hollering am I to the breeze
I, exempt of all species
The lessons of them to seize

But just a girl
Sunrise upon my face
Grown in a twirl
Faith ever erased

Vile, Unkind, Eros was to me
His bows kept striking free
Joy and peace
And left me on my knees!

L. 06/16/14 13:51

“Tell me, do you want to be my afterthought?”

As hot as you are why are you always alone?

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He asked.

And I smiled. I have heard that before and even asked myself that same question after reading statements like “when you know your worth, you won’t mind eating alone or being alone.”

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Well, if I’m that “worthy”, why aren’t I valued? Am I valuing myself too much? Am I too “expensive” that many can’t afford me? Is knowing a reason to be alone?

There is a shade of truth and reality dripping from each thought. And yes, I do. I have learned how worthy I am. And it isn’t based on beauty, or money or even intelligence. It is based on how hard I worked on building my self-esteem, on how long it took me to mend my broken heart, on how difficult it is to learn to trust when you’ve been lied to and used.

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It never fails that many of my personal experiences differ from the norm. When others state and you shall receive, the energy you put out, is what will come back to you, that I, “Ms. anomaly” as I’ve come to perceive myself have never experienced such nonsense. Not that I mean to offend, because logically I understand that we are the sum of our experiences and what I find to be untrue, unproved is someone or so many others’ “truth”. I’m not disregarding the apotheosis of their existence but can certainly attest that it has not worked for me, not from lack of trying mind you. Somewhere within me is this little mad scientist who tests everything to assess the validity of things. I’ll blame it on my dad who always taught us that we should try to learn about everything, try almost everything so we can find our “truth”.

I’m not any more “worthy” than the next woman or prettier, heck! maybe smarter I’ve heard that enough times that it may be true, and cocky I’m certain. That has come with old age or as end result to self-esteem building. Possibly! Maybe I’m joking, I’m not sure, but it matters not certainly. The world is great at belittling us and a little pat on the back for myself won’t hurt anyone else, certainly!

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I digress as I often do. So, I’m sitting at home and this man, yes, another married one. Have I told y’all how lucky or is it unlucky I am at having more married men pursuing me than single ones? Well, many pretend to be single but are shacked up somewhere with some woman or baby mama they don’t want to let go of while playing footsie with me and many others I’m sure. The man sends me that text.

I accept the compliment but lack a succinct answer to that question. It is not complicated but too lengthy for a text and I hate texting as you know. I’m alone by choice and the consequence could be depressive at times but the alternative is much worse. I’ve tried too many times and have had to build trust in myself, in others for me to allow people so easily in my life. I’m much more conscious who I allow in my life. Too many whether friends or wanna be lovers play pretend and have no issue hurting me in the process of getting whatever they want out of our relationship whether it is sex or money, ego boosting and so on…People lie. I hate liars. I hate it so much that I fear I might kill someone if one other idiot comes into my life to use me or lie to me. I’m alone because I love my peace of mind. I want to be happy and despite all the research stating that having people in your life bring joy, I haven’t had that experience much. If your presence does not contribute to my joy but leaves me empty, confused, angry, crazed, apathetic, you’re a liability to my sanity. Do not make me feel less than I am!

I like my anonymity. I enjoy the not so intimate online encounters or the few at bookstores, the gymn or bars with positive, fun people who challenge my thought process, who are spiritual, who love to find their own paths. I love the misfits, the weirdos, the brilliant minds but online is where they stay. I can “visit” as I please and then hide in my corner. Having people around demands that I become emotionally attached. Many don’t deserve such attachment. That is who I am however. If we are friends, I’m attached and I care. I care if you call, come see me, how much time you spend with me, what we talk about, how close we are, how open you are with me. I can’t do half ass, fake ass, drive by anything. I love hard and I love deep, friends and lovers alike. Because I feel so deeply, because I get attached so honestly naively, I stay away.

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I’m scared of people because in my experience, closeness brings more harm than good. They are mean and unmindful. The majority of course. I don’t fear relationships. I fear fake ones.

I’ve worked too hard on forgiveness and letting go to open myself up to people so readily or maybe ever. The few, I have a total of maybe two live far from me and I’m good with that. That’s all the risk I’m willing to take.

Wow! I’m hot! I’ve been hearing that more often as well. I guess I age well! That should be next to smart from now on. :-)

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Peace, joy and love my darlings, wherever you are! Smooches!!!

Anonymously, yours!

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Why I am anonymous?

Call me weird. Some surely do. Call me stalker, troll, hater. I have been called these and possibly worst, indeed.

Let me tell you why.

People all around us live in fear, fear of being ousted, being criticized, being called on their bullshit or disagreed with. Yet, many pretend to be open, you know, like so many with a public profile. But, let you comment on any of their updates suddenly, you are crossing certain boundaries. They want to be seen, read, vaunted but don’t you dare disagree or call them out or offer them a different perspective. Suddenly, you are wrong. You don’t know your limits. Please tell me what are the limits on a public profile? They want to be applauded and liked. See me, but don’t come near me. Admiration for their intellect, their quirkiness or assault upon the public arena to you as they are busy promoting their goods to you, the goals. They want you, but they don’t want to hear from you. Unless, it is about everything that they agree with or promote. Just, like the saying , if you have nothing good to say, don’t go on their updates. Leave them be. Don’t challenge their statements, don’t correct their “your, you’re” and so on, despite the fact that daily they are calling others coons, ignorant, idiots, etc. They can criticize at will, putting negative energy into the universe, but don’t critique them in order to help them. They know it all. They are not here to learn or be open to others. They are happy putting everyone else in the world on blast!! Your role is to applaud, bow, embrace, enjoy their public platform.

You haven’t fully seen people until you try to reach their spirit, their soul. Many don’t have any or it is so deeply buried that they have stopped using it or see into others. It appears that many can’t handle discourse without certain preconceived notions. People need the physical, the image, to communicate with the mental. Ironic isn’t it?

I have always had a Facebook profile for my poetry. I ditched my personal profile because it wasn’t meeting my needs, that is a topic for another blog. On the profile, I do not have my picture or when I do post one, I don’t make it clear whether it is me or not. Never. None. Zip. Zero. Nada. I am there to promote my blog, my poetry and to read from others, learn from them, follow the pages that inspire as well as support the artists I like. In so doing, I’ve added a few “friends” and many have added me. I have over 100s of “friends” who have no idea what I look like. I like it that way. Some would add me based on aesthetics, aka, an avatar of a famous model they assume was my picture, or based on any of my replies from other discussions that they come upon.

Needless to say, many times, it doesn’t stay that way. After a bit, curiosity pushes them to inquire about a picture. I used to be shocked how quickly they would “unfriend” me when I denied such a request. Mind you, these people’s pages most often were public, my updates are non-controversial or offensive to say the least. Basically, they could not “connect” with my mind. They needed a picture to be able to “understand” where I was coming from. Really!!! Isn’t this the most ludicrous idea ever???!!!!! Some guy even blasted me on his page telling people I am the devil when I asked him certain questions regarding an update on Osiris. He removed me, blasted me and then blocked me. At the time, I had my other profile and could read on his “public” profile every nasty, devilish thing he was saying about me to his 4000+ followers. Mind you, this occurred after I repeatedly denied his request for a picture. Mr. Spiritual leader wanted to get my personal information, when he couldn’t, he shamed my profile.

Dear readers, a word of caution, please make sure who you allow on your friends’ list, how public you wish to be with your updates as well as your pictures online. I could imagine what he could have done with my picture had I sent it to him!

These are but a few reasons why I like being “anonymous”. I like my peace of mind. I love to engage in discussions where the reader reads my thoughts, unknowing if I am black, yellow, white or green. I want to learn from him and have him communicate with my mind. It is so easy for people to end a discussion with: “oh, you’re European, it’s because you’re not American or you’re a woman that’s why.” They refute logical propositions based on their narrow minded-ness. How can we evolve into more than the physical realm when our thoughts are so constrained?

And a few, the egotists, narcissists will convince themselves that I’m either an ex or a hater (paranoid much?). The funny ones would even write updates about people with no pictures replying to their “public updates”. Really!!!

Anonymity isn’t threatening unless you’re fearful. A public profile is accessible to the public, thus has weak boundaries. Unless someone insults you, there’s nothing to fear or question when a poster you don’t know, have never met, that you added on your list replies on your updates.

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Anonymity is freedom! :-)

Shalom