of crushes and crashing 080519

Before I carry on with my ranting, I want to get one thing clear out there, I AM A MASOCHIST.

I always have been, I am, and I always will be. It is through subjecting myself to suffering and pain that I get a certain degree of self-validation. It's like my drug. The physical rush of blood to my head, the emotional stab of getting hurt and the mental torment of knowing some perverted distress is coming or is IN my way.

Call me crazy, but I love it.

It is by experiencing pain I know and realize that I am alive. It is through suffering I know that compassion exists. It is through this vexation I ultimately feel the elusive happiness and euphoria that comes after.

Call it torture. I call it ME.

So how do I inflict this pain you may ask? No, I do not stab or cut myself. Mine is a knife sharper than that. I do not feel pleasure from a healing wound or scar tissue. I want it deeper than the physical, I want it to stab my heart and disturb my brain.

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It has been awhile since I have been physically pleasured by someone (wink*). Warm blooded as I am, I prefer an intelligent conversation over sex.

Bull.

OK, I prefer sex. No, I prefer sex after an intelligent conversation. I want my cake, and eat it too, literally.

Anyways, over the weekend, I really wanted to go out. Hang out with some friends, perhaps meet new ones, or if all else fails, hook up (yes, have sex) with old ones. I was psyching myself already. Prepared and dressed to the nines, I changed my mind. You ask why? To torture myself. Crazy right? I mean, that night was a sure thing for me. I knew what I wanted and I knew I was going to get it. I mean, it was already there, summoning me. I refused. And now, I am in such a state of regret. And I love it. It's like I was ready to take off, heck I already did take off and I intentionally crashed my plane. The feeling of crashing and ruining my plans left me with a feeling of big-time regret, dissatisfaction and emptiness. I was down. I let myself down. All for the sheer pleasure of feeling down.

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I have a crush. Yes, I mean a person that when you see makes your heart skip and involuntarily makes you smile. Hehehe.

What am I, twelve???

I MEAN a person who clouds your mind with lustful thoughts whenever you see each other. A person whose very name invokes your loins to a "Hail Hitler" mode. The very sight of whom makes you want to carelessly drop your pants, rip your top and start humping like gorillas.

I guess I do have a crush!

I've know this person for quite some time. Although we have never ever conversed, as far as I remember. Never really appreciated the person much before. But now, it's like Ummph!

OK, so bottom line line is, I want to get in this person's pants ASAP. Hahaha. You perv you.

I seem happy right?

Completely the opposite.

Whenever I have a crush, I automatically get depressed. You ask why? Well, a crush for me is someone I desire but I know I CANNOT have. Ouch! I have long accepted this fact and will forever live through it. I have had a couple of surprises over the past year when "one of my crushes" reciprocated my guised affections. Oh and by the way, just a little juice, the "one of my crushes" I mentioned had a brief thing with this new crush of mine. Hahaha! Small world.

I wonder if this will turn out good (or bad in a good way)?

Oh well.

One can only hope.

I can just stick to moping on the feeling of knowing that this person is so near, yet so far.




Leave me be. I am gonna go cut myself.