Trials of Chastity

Yonphi · Mar 16, 2003

Checks and Balances

I hate to admit it, but sex is a priority.

You'll know I'm very very crossed between love and sex. I'd like to have a happy medium, ideally, but then my motivations sway to and fro too irregularly to really say "This, here, is what I want."
For every wish to have some vixen straddle me and push her chest in my face, I have a wish to walk while holding hands, fingers intertwined in a lovers' grip.

Such a thing makes things very complicated, at least trying to answer the question: "what's next?"

I'd like to be able to separate the two to get my fix of both as I see fit. Like have both on my plate as separate and descrete areas so I can take a little bite out of each as the need strikes me. But I don't think I can be that mature about things. I've got them both mixed in a slag of food, and the ratio is set: regardless of what I'd like.

And here I talk as if I can dig in with a fork and taste. Bah.

But it could be so easy. I would be able to fall in love without needing to touch and feel. But sometimes I wonder if sex is going to mess things up. I've got a strong drive, but that's just another dimension of compatability to synchronize. I would hate to overlook someone because she doesn't/couldn't/wouldn't match my desires.

But it isn't all about sex. That's what really bugs me. If there's so much more to it than that, how come I can't just go on and on about the other things, too? Or maybe since virginity is easy to peg and a romantic spirit isn't, that it just appears that way.

And then when it is just about sex, that means I'm just going to get attached even with something casual, which from what I understand is the death nell of it all.

Ack, I'm still too innocent, I guess.

Yonphi · Mar 22, 2003

Self-Righteous Suicide

Yes, I'm alive. But not really. I'm about as alive as I've ever been. Which means I've been an empty shell of a man for a while now.

Don't let the post hour confuse you. This is just because I havn't been posting when I should, and while I may tomorrow I got stuff on my mind that needs to be difused.

E5 has come back into my life: she approached me. Things are very difficult for her. I know I'm often conflicted, but it's strange to see someone else when they're conflicted. I mean, really see them. Hear them talk about a lot of trivial things that they ordinarily wouldn't talk about because they're so nervous. He husband is in the military, after all. And she isn't opposed to the war because she knows it has to be done.
I will be very careful not to say whether I agree with her or not. No offense, but based on a lot of lurking I've done around outside of the journals forum, it seems that any kind of differring political views are frowned upon with trolling, baseless claims, and extreme bias. No matter if I agree or not, whatever it is will be either on the receiving end OR in the mob shouting such things. I don't do mobs, sorry.

So, now that you hate me....

She appologized and took full responsibility for putting me in a situation where I have no cognizance to choose not to proceed. And did so while maintaining that she did not feel guilty and yes she thought I was good. (Which is perhaps a bad thing, meaning, had we gone all the way, it would have been disappointment city from then on out.)
And I got to see her cry as she heard that fighting had broken out.

Don't misunderstand, I'm not planning to do anything, and I'm resolved in not doing anything. But it's clear to me that she need a friend. And a friend I will be.

Now, I've been pushing her to do things like shopping and go to the gym because I think it's good for her to keep her mind off things. I happen to be company, so we're hanging out a lot. Today she received a package, and things started shooting at me from the get go.

When I saw her cry, it was because she didn't want anything to happen to him. The package she got was from her husband, and she was in a dull mood and became super bright. She sighed a lot, smiled a lot, and generally beamed with this brightness.

It became crystal clear.

While normally I tend to look at this wanting someone to feel this way about me, I didn't this time. This time I know not only does she simply not think so highly of me, but also that nobody does. And I got a chill that I will never have a girl ever think that way about me. Be worried about my health and well being, float on air with my e-mails or packages.
I became sick to my stomach not thinking that I don't have that, but that I won't have that. I could spend a lifetime until old age and still never find anyone to love me.

Here's a question that allegedly says a lot about a personality: "Is it more important to love or be loved?" "To Love" seems like the right answer, but I have to say that it's more important "to be loved" because if you aren't loved you're just hollow. Your existance won't ever be incredibly important to anyone else like others are to them.

And then the thought hits me. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I here being a good friend for a woman who is married? Why did I promise E1 I'd visit her this summer so long ago when she's got a "wonderful boyfriend"? Why do I bother chatting it up with a woman who's so in love with a 3rd party? Isn't this a waste? Shouldn't I be trying to trick girls into my arms instead of being emotional support for unattainables?

But I do. It's the way I am. I like being a good friend. I think I am a good friend, and am perhaps built to be a good friend and little more as far as relationships go. If it's all I can be to a woman, then that's all I can be. Potentials are great to reach.

My dad told me once before: "Always take care of yourself before anyone else," in the interest of keeping people from taking advantage of me. But, I think I have taken care of myself to some extent. I've got a great future ahead, I think. But the rest of caring for myself? I need someone to care about me at least as much as I'd care about them.

And all of a sudden things start seeming a little lopsided. I just want someone to care about my feelings and emotions and baby me a bit. I want to be sad about things and just be sad and let whoever I'm talking to empathize. But my quest for sex does not take priority over making and keeping friends, and doing what I can so that they can be as happy as they can. Ever.

But it does hurt a little. To care so much for people, to long to meet and hang out with people who either know I'm kicking around ideas and plans to visit them and those who have no idea I'd like to, only to realize their affections are elsewhere and are likely to, even if they come towards me I'd have to be living vicarously.

This is my self-righteous suicide.

In any case, I'm so fucking tired I could drop where I sit. And I'm sitting on a pile of e-mail I need to respond to. So, if you know you're getting one, hold on.

Yonphi · Mar 25, 2003

Between Figurative and Literal Suicide

To remember: having a girl actually like me is paramount. This really is an any-means-necessary thing. I am willing to endure hardship and failure and other rotten things to be liked. And that is my persuit. I want to be liked in a special way. To be loved is good, too, but let's not go crazy here. Quite frankly, I'll take what I can get. Yes, for the record, I will take what I can get.

All aboard the DETOUR:
Taking what I can get, utter failure of my will versus temptation smacking me in the face (not necessarily with her hands, mind you) means I'm easy. So what? It's ok to be easy. Thankfully being a male means I can enjoy being easy to the fullest the world lets me enjoy it. An Easy Virgin. That is I. And yes, I know "that is I" is grammatically incorrect (but when has that ever stopped me before?).

But worse than that is that I'm predictable. Being predictable is awful. Take a train. It's quite predictable. If it's travelling from one point to another, and you know where it's coming from and where it's going and the particular rail it will travel on, all you need to do to derail it is take your little Dremmel and shave down the raised rails a few centimeters for a little less than a meter. And if you manage to do it in time, it will work. There's only one way for the train to go, and thanks to that predictability you know how to ruin it.

I could find myself on the business end of a fantastic girl-scam that ends up with me chained to a headboard and lacking wallet, pants, and perhaps with my sneakers removed, socks stolen, and sneakers replaced. Oh the humanity! And it'd be easy to do. Perhaps it's a good thing I'm a Third since that way girls don't even pay enough attention to take advantage of and manipulate me. It'd be so easy to do. And I know it.

She probably wouldn't even have to flash a boobie to get me to do something stupid. And I want to kick myself in the head for it.

Pssssssst. Last stop on the DETOUR.

So I will take any angle I can to get a girl to like me. Notice that this doesn't mean anything goes, since trickery and deception doesn't get her to like me, it gets her to like the trick and the false image. Again, The Lie isn't about me trying to impress a girl about any feigned sexual expertise, but, rather, a survival mechanism to not look like the complete outsider that I am.

But if this means burning myself on a Zippo that I'm trying to flip around and do tricks with, so be it. If it means giving myself a hernia and pretending this really heavy box isn't heavy at all, so be it. If it means hydroplaning at 115 kph towards a freeway exit as a Fonzie-esque stunt to impress her, so be it. Well, maybe not. Ok ok, maybe there are a few things I would stop short of doing. BUT if I reasoned that I could do it and do it well, then I would no problem. The solo date not too long ago was a little test of that.

Yesterday I found myself in my local arcade. Trying to play DDR again. I bumped it up to light mode and three/four foot songs, and after the first set of three I was feeling pretty ok. I turn and see a girl standing there. I hop off and she gets her turn. Same difficulty, same songs. She hops off turns at me, and stands with her arms crossed with a look of: "and?"

I go on again, same difficulty, but some different songs. Nevermind I was still tired from the first wave. And I was going at it, thinking about impressing some random girl. A random girl that hadn't given me a non-smug smile at all. I had visions of Kid Icarus, in those rooms where there are all these blue panels flying around. And then that time playing a display version of Megaman X4 and kicking so much serious ass with Zero it was like I was playing Sonic in the beginning levels where you can go really fast with impunity. I was going to impress her with my stamina.

But all that thinking just got in the way of realizing that I was more tired than I thought. I like being light on my feet, but the game doesn't really allow that. You really have to put the majority of your weight down in order for steps to count. Which means a lot of hopping about. Soon these thoughts of being a badass gave way, not to what I was thinking about when I was watching her hop about and her breasts throbbing to the beat, to the fact that, fuck man, I'm tired. I walked off during the last song, barely being able to feel my extremities, facing the wall. Had I kept going I very likely would have killed myself. Who knows how much longer it would have been before I feel pins and needles in my hands and feet?

Off the machine, I looked her way, and it's like she stood there and waited for me to look at her before she turned around and walked away. I walked towards a vending machine, got a bottle of water, and left.

Stamina nothing.

Walking away, barely able to do so with my legs going whichever way they felt like, I started thinking things. Like she was thinking something along the lines of "Feh, he would never keep up with me in bed." (it wasn't even that difficult, it was just physically tiring.) And I was thinking that I'm terribly out of shape, and it's probably a good thing I didn't get too far with E5 for her to find out exactly how large that distance is between what I reach for and what I actually grasp. That perhaps its a good thing I havn't been given this so-called "chance" I keep whining about getting because I'll just end up wasting it.

Heh, there's nothing quite like biting off more than one can chew to keep one humble.

Yonphi · Mar 27, 2003

Illusion Shatter

I'm miserable.

It's spring, and I'm miserable.

The so-called "Year of Yonphi" is not going well at all. 25% through, and I feel like even more of an empty shell of a man than ever.

I see it going on around me, too. People hooking up and finding a little romance from wherever it grows. And yet, it would seem as though I forgot to fill out that change of address for for romance to strike me in my personal stomping ground.

Whatever the population of the world is, I'm sure at any given time it's an odd number. That way when everyone pairs off, there will be one left: me.

I can't even think sexy thoughts. I just tried to watch a little porn and it's almost as if there's big red text covering the screen reading: "Not in your lifetime." Thinking about getting a little sexual favors as I sit here? I've got big red text floating in a thought bubble above my brain saying: "How would you know?" It's terrible, it really is.

I may have mentioned it before, but one of the earliest commercials I remember having seen had a monk sitting in a dark empty room posing questions: "How do you get a job without experience? How do you get experience without a job?" I remember the voice, too. If I were Busta Rhymes, I'd probably make a song and it would leak that advertisement in the lyrics instead of that PSA leaking into "Dangerous".

I want to be confident and sexy, but I can't do that on my own. I just am unable. I need sex to be sexy, I think. To "[walk] around like [I'm] number one", knowing that someone longs for my touch. I need experience and acceptance to be confident I can do it on my own.

Meanwhile I can't so much as get a smile from this morning's elevator companion.

I just need some positive reinforcement. And then I wonder if the reason why I'm so bad at this is because it isn't right after all. Fate has no mercy for those who dare to challenge it.

Maybe I'm just thinking about giving up. I'm sliding down the road I've known to exist and the more I struggle the faster I slide. I know that once I start going down that path I will be a lost cause. Can't anyone catch me?

Yonphi · Mar 28, 2003

Declaration of Independence

There simply must be a formal title to this mental illness I've got. There must be.

Here I am mulling about in my muddle-ridden brain and it takes 3rd party observation to put things in perspective. I'm so ashamed! Striving for autonomy is a trait of an engaged individual, is it not? And here I am not realizing how good I've really had it in the past few months compared to even the rest of my prior life until Deez tells me.

Yikes, not good. I guess I've just taken a trout to the face with the notion that, yes, I am far too hard on myself.

So, a little context, yes? I've been bundling any sexual experience as keys to confidence. Ms. Robinson helped put some really sexy things into my brain, E5 gave me a thrill I never anticipated (if I go back in time and tell myself, I'd never believe me). And I guess I was expecting things to change dramatically. I was sort of expecting a greater percentage of my overall confidence to consist of actual confidence and not artificial confidence. This should sound like crazy talk. I know it does.

Why the crazy talk, then? Hmm... well, E5 doesn't have me and is, in fact, my friend. Partly for support on my part, partly for entertainment on both our parts. It's nice to have a nearby friend. And I don't look at her and think about doing horrible horrible things (well, maybe not that horrible) to her. Or with her. Or by her.

I did keep the first e-mail I got after the incident, the one where she did tell me that my thoughts were in fact well founded and she enjoyed it greatly. I guess she was a little embarassed to say it in person (although the little wow was fun to hear). I may have mentioned it before, but it was only later that she felt the friendship was threatened. In that first e-mail she said she liked it and didn't feel guilty about it whatsoever.

Hanging out with E5 does happen. And this latest time got me in a depressed mood. It's clear that her husband is on the forefront of her mind (as it should be, all things considered). And it just becomes a little clearer to me that even if he was to disappear it probably wouldn't change anything.

After that first night, I thought to myself that I should probably stay away because nothing good could come of this. But... that was clearly something I didn't take seriously. I see her now, and in the back of my mind, I keep thinking "that was not enough". And that's a kind of sinister thing. And that can be interpreted in a few ways, I want to do what I'd done again, and I want to go farther at it.

But we havn't. At all. I saw her Wednesday night and I felt a little bashful about how to go about doing it again. You know how some people say, with things of sexual nature, how they "just happen"? I think I know what that's about, because I can't exactly point to a word said or a moment in which things turned towards that potential destiny.

Although.... if A) She liked it, therefore has a reason to allow me to do it again, and B) She doesn't feel guilty, therefore doesn't have a reason to not allow it, then we should be at it. Her concern, based on when I thought we weren't going to be friends anymore, was that she may start to feel guilty. So clearly it's either because she's rethinking A and saying to herself "well, maybe I was just really horny, and he wasn't, in fact, good at all", or she's rethinking B and thinking she may start to feel guilty. After all, for a moment there I thought I wasn't even going to have a friend.

Perhaps I'm partially to blame by encouraging her to masturbate and by helping her select one the same night I had that adventure. If she's getting off on her own, she won't need me. Damn it, that's the last time I ever advocate female masturbation! :] Ladies, why Jill Off when you can have me do it for you?

Seriously, though, instead of drawing strength from this, I drew longing for someone who can let me do stuff to her and not have any damned good reason to not let me. And therefore would be able to go farther. But I'm still stuck in this "take what I can get" kind of mode.

And trying to make nice-nice with girls looking for an angle to hopefully not put them on The List and failing at it doesn't help to convince me that any gained real confidence is useful.

Instead of gaining independence by freeing myself a little from the worries of how others accept me, I've tightened the bonds by giving me something to shoot for. After all, if I just managed to jump high enough to touch the bottom of the net, of course I'm going to be even more nuts about making a slam dunk.

Perhaps once I accept the fact that I will, no matter what, always want more, I may be able to face it and start using it for what experience was intended for. After all, the drive for more is just as powerful as the drive for some.

"I was hooked on Mary Jane," as the line from Half Baked goes. Although treat it not so much as a double meaning sentence, and treat it as that I'm addicted to the female sexual response cycle.

This also means that, although I intended to try last weekend, look for a few more entries on my list in the next few days. Hopefully the entries on the list will be fewer than my attempts, meaning "good luck's a-comin'."

Yonphi · Mar 30, 2003

Your Classic Square Wave

"What is a square wave signal?"

A square wave is a periodic wave that alternately for a equal length of time assumes one of two fixed values. The transition-time between these two fixed values is neglectable in comparison to the wavelength.

Analyzing an ideal square wave spectrum we recognize that it can be described as the sum of an infinity of frequencies including all uneven multiples into this sum (f, 3*f, 5*f, 7*f, …. .n*f). Higher multiple frequency (n*f) do have a lower contribution to signal form. Real systems have only a limited bandwidth, since the available energy is limited. So real square wave signals are
approximations to the ideal one: not holding perfect fixed values, non-neglectable transition time, etc.

Just delicately edited from nt-instruments.

"Why must you waste my time like this?"

Well, see, it seems that I've been in a little square wave of my own. One moment I think things are gonna be pretty fucking good, and the next moment I think things are gonna be pretty fucking bad. I think that's, what, manic depressive disorder? I don't think I'm that bad, really. But....

... Constancy has its Benefits.

And the best thing about constants is that they are constants. Little inklings of hope get me extrapolating too high. Statistically speaking, one could have a set of N samples most within 2% of each other, and have M samples that are really out of whack (like 200% or so) and the average will still reasonably approximate near the majority of N samples. (oh, yeah, before I forget, where N is very very very large compared to M.)

While streaming data is coming in, a quick or dramatic rise in whatever value you're measuring can either be an anomaly OR mark the beginning of an quick and dramatic upward trend. Every upward trend for me is a dramatic one, since I'm magnified so close due to my desire for things to go my way that a 10^-6 increase resembles a 10^6 increase.

The thing about consistant failure is that it doesn't throw any surprises into the mix. Why try if it's to fail? Well, of course I don't want to fail. But any little hints of success quickly set up milestones. After all, if the bronze ring was straight ahead, and the silver ring is 200 meters higher, what are the odds that the gold ring will be even higher still? Even? Lower?

That's why I hate those "what are the next X numbers in this sequence" questions. They're unfair. Oh, sure, I can do them, and I usually figure them out quickly. But it's a sequence of numbers, known only to the extent that have been defined. Who's to say that a sequence of numbers doesn't just plunk down?
1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,34,4,0,0,0,0,0,0,0....

Or, even, for that matter...

1,1,2,3,5,8,13,21,34,4,0,0,0,0,0,0,0,3,1,4,1,5,9,....

Who can say, really? The sequence might not, and it may even be pretty remote, but YUO NEVAR KMOW!!11

But I'm not mopey mopey. My last trip to the local arcade (late late Friday night) made me happy, especially compared to last time. I was with E5 and we walked up to the DDR machine in use by a group of 7 and one girl smiled politely as she noticed I was there.
One of my Commandments of Not-Doing-Anything-Too-Stupid is to never ever hit on a girl in a group, since the first thing that will become public to the group after I'm shot down is "OMG, that guy just tried to hit on me!"
Excuse me for a moment.
Do you know what it's like having someone smile at you for just being around? It's really exciting. And maybe it's wrong to put so much weight on this sort of thing, but, you see, who smiles at me just like that? Nobody. Any time it happens I'm elated.

So elated I'm not sure what I did. I think I smiled back, or at least hope I did. Bah, I'm pretty sure I did. It would be a natural reaction, after all.

Unfortunately, I'm just a little shy with E5 around. I don't like being on the spot as it is with fishing from a group (maybe there isn't any Anti-Stupid code revolving that "no-groups" thing after all). Let alone crashing and burning right there in front of someone else.

I know I'm being completely unreasonable. Next time (and with any luck I can steal, there will be a next time) I'll ignore all that and be bold. Yep, I am able to be bold, now that I've got a little physical inspiration under my belt.

Observations: (normally they would go on the supplement, but my JVM (Java Virtual Machine) is not very happy right now, making surfing a dangerous thing to do, on memory there is some java stuff on geocities in general but I don't feel like having my computer reboot to find out for sure.)
Why do they call that place "Flippers" if it only has one pinball machine there? (yes, yes, there are at least two flippers in that machine, but that's not the point.)
Why does The Onion love me so much? Huh?
Why can't I find the specific remix of TATU "All the Things She Said" in WinMX? I've got 5 different mixes so far and none of them match. At least they play it pretty often on the local thumpa-thumpa station

And....

And I'm all mixed up, feeling cornered and rushed
They say it's my fault but I want her so much

Wow, those little bi-girls' lyrics sure do speak to my soul.

Yonphi · Mar 31, 2003

Eclectic Harley House Of Love

Yes, I know the title is, in fact, "Electric Harley House Of Love", but I think eclectic sounds not only better but perhaps could mean more.

Ah, hopefully I don't get sued. Wait a minute, Green Jelly got sued for being Green Jello, didn't they? Nah, they ain't doing anything to me, that's for sure.

Just a quickie, tonight. I wanted to pose a quick question about the topic on everyone's lips. What, you'd think I'd just up and ignore it?

IRC romance is lovely, isn't it? I had been posed with a comment in a long-ago conversation about how I should consider the possibility that perhaps a reader would take my virginity. My response? Of course I would love that. If she could read all this and still not be scared away... I mean, come on!

So the question I need to ask is perhaps not what you think I'm going to ask.

When you two are married, that means we're invited, right? :]

(I had heard that weddings are a good place to hook up. So, yes, perhaps it was what you thought I was going to ask anyway.)

...

I'm surprised nobody noticed that I have switched to completely metric units of measure recently. Maybe that's the trick to the Brittish being very much in demand.

And I don't even have a good fake english accent. Feh.

Yonphi · Apr 1, 2003

Shocking

For some reason there's the flag of France up in the header. Hmm... I thought this was a Chicago based board? I'm sure I'd know what's going on if I took more time to poke around here and see what's up.
But more time I won't be able to give. Just got back home from somewhere. Yes, somewhere.
Oh, and, should I say that this somewhere I was having sex?

Hot, sticky, sweaty, someone-nearly-called-the-cops-on-us sex. A parked-in-a-church-parking-lot-using-my-expired-condoms-in-the-backseat-and-accidentally-hitting-the-60/40-folding-back-release-smooshing-her-legs sex. A fogged-up-window-making-it-dangerous-to-drive-thereafter sex.

Oh, and, April Fools.

Did you know I'd been planning a post like this for today for a while? It didn't go quite as planned. I wanted to have a lot more time to really go on and on about some make-believe sex. But there's like 3 minutes to midnight here. Clearly a high-concept low-execution dealie. If I was planning it I should have actually written it before and saved it and posted it today.

Yeah, right, like anyone was starting to believe me. Talk about me jynxing myself.

I'll make this up to you next time, I promise. Going back to my roots, as it were. Gonna tell you a tale of C9, someone from the two-fiddy, and my first dance.

Nope, I clearly suck at the april fools. Oh well. Doesn't matter.

Yonphi · Apr 3, 2003

Bittersweet

I figured for the 128th reply it would be in order to think happy thoughts of bittersweet times. After all, if you like the default view of 20 entries per page like I do, then I'm on the 7th page. 2^7 = 128. COINCIDENCE?!?!? Yes, but that's beyond the point.

It won't happen again ever. The next ones are 256, 512, 1024, 2048, 4096, 8196... and I could go farther but I wouldn't end up impressing anyone since this is being typed and therefore there is no way for you to know that I've got the first 16 powers of 2 memorized. I wanted to get all the way up to 32, but, what can I say: I'm old school.

8088 4-eva

Speaking of numbers, grats to Sugar-Snit on her upcoming 20K views. Normally I don't like to shout out because I don't want to feel obligated to shout out to those who I do read (after all, I read them too), but, yup, she's good. Funky indeed.

C9 always liked to tell me I was strange, but in a completely acceptable manner. That is, she would tell me in an acceptable manner that I am strange in an acceptable manner, not just that she would be nice about saying it.

She was my height, a blonde, and she had a really interesting looking smile: like her face really got into it. Except for once, I'd never seen her smile with lips closed. Always open and wide and... hmm... if I had to pick a pop-culture icon to reference, I would say something akin to Wallace and Grommit, but not nearly as toothy. She oftentimes found herself either saying a few words and smiling uncontollably, or smiling first and trying to speak while doing it, and usually it came out in one word.

Lovely blue eyes, and many birthmarks. Distinctive voice, too. Prone to headaches she was, and queen of illnesses, many of which I'd been convinced were psychosomatic. If she could, she probably would have been barefoot all the time (strangely, a pretty significant portion of the two-fiddy loved being barefoot. Perhaps that says something about the type of people that would like me?)

Somehow I could always picture her playing a Trumpet or a French Horn or something. As far as I know, she didn't play. But I've been wrong before, and I'll probably be wrong again in the future.

There was at one time a dance of sorts for school. Less formal than prom, more formal than just a party. I had been tricked into going for some reason. I was even less into it than I am today back then, so I'm just gonna shrug over why I went without a date. I guess if I had to figure things out realistically, any of the non-taken girls would have gone with me had I asked, but it felt a bit like a sham, after all, the context would not be a friendly one. Even if she would manage to keep it that way, would I be able to? Remember, I really wasn't angling for a girlfriend around this point. Just my junior year. I was where I was and that's all that has to do with that. Sure I wanted something more, and my eventual putting them on the list would show that I was willing to risk things for something more, but not at that moment.

So why the hell did I go? Maybe it was because I felt like I fit in? Somehow, kinda, sorta? No, I didn't fit in so that's not it. Look, if I knew I'd tell you, ok?

Anyway, I spent most of the time just sitting around and chumming out a bit. There was food, so food was eaten.

Oh, hell, I know at least one reason why I went I just remembered as thinking about sitting a big round table with a bunch of girlies next to me. Girls look totally hot in these kind of formalish dresses. Lots of soft, exposed skin, lots of birthmarks I hadn't seen prior, a few flowers in hair and the hair styled in forms more elaborate than I had witnessed before. Lots of flowy things, silky things, shiney things. Becoming more familiar with not just how the female body looks in real life (after all, porn screws around with context), but becoming more familiar with how THEIR female body looks in real life.

For the record, there were times that I had fantasized about some of them. I didn't pay it any mind though. I would behave myself and be convinced that I don't need anyone. A1 to B9 have shown that my aspirations are more trouble that they could be potentially worth. Hey, I never said I always had far vision into the future.

Anyway, near the end the people I was chumming with started either leaving to afterparties or gone up to dance. I didn't ask, because I was shy about that sort of thing. Besides, I had never danced before in my life.

Here's where I've kinda grown, I suppose. Today, if I'm somewhere and I'm not enjoying myself, I leave. I leave at all costs. If you want me to stay then you can come with me to wherever I am leaving to. Then, I got started feeling depressed and inadequate and unable to have a good time. By the end of the night I had wandered out of the hall and found myself watching a water fountain.

C9 had wandered out and found me sitting there watching the water and I stood up when I noticed her approaching. She didn't do anything stupid like ask what I was doing out there, or what was wrong, or anything like that.

The first and last and only time she ever smiled at me with her mouth closed was that night. She smiled with a close-lipped smile and took my hand and pulled me gently back into the hall. They started playing something slow, and there we were.

Back then this was brand new technology. She put her arms around my shoulders and down, and she directed my hands to her sides just above her hips, a space I had later termed "dance neutral space". I remember thinking up a whole complicated nomenclature for different hand positions of varying degrees of "grope", of which I have now forgotten since I had never slow danced with anyone ever again, and I guess the structure constructed has wasted away. She put her face close to mine and said, "sway." I did so, and the next instruction was "turn slowly."

She was barefoot, in a long silvery shimmery satin dress. This made clammy-hands not a major concern at the time. Although I wasn't thinking about it, to be perfectly honest. Every time I stepped on her foot I said "sorry" and she said "don't worry." I vaguely remember asking why and since I don't recall an answer, I either did not ask or she didn't answer when I did. But when it was over and she pulled back, held my hands, gave her classic smile, and kissed my cheek.

Fast forward a bit. She was C9, therefore she was within the first half of my female friend exodus. I won't go into the details of how precisely she became C9 after C8, but it really wasn't very interesting at all. She ended up getting really mad at me. Being one who likes to experiment with various things, I decided I would be an e-mail actor. I had put my mind into a character and fired off a twisted e-mail that, when reread at a later time, just seemed like I was drunk and wasn't particularly clever in any form. This e-mail mentioned E1 and E2. She felt I was a bad person after all and this harmless e-mail might have suggested something darker in my soul. (it was just a raunchy e-mail with lots of typos, really.) Sometime after reaching E1 (chronologically), I was hanging out with her and C9 was around.

If there's one thing I do constantly, it's chewing on ice. Some say it's indicative of having a poor nutritional intake, some say it's being orally fixated. I'll say it suggests I have poor oral sex intake.

She had finished a paper cup of soda and held the cup close to me, open end tilted slightly towards me and invited me to take the cup and have her ice. I didn't know what to say, and she said she didn't poison it. Later E1 would tell me that at that point she didn't hate me as much anymore. Which is bonus, I suppose. But while E1 is back in touch with me, C9 has dropped off her radar meaning she's dropped off mine.

Sometimes you catch me speaking affectionately about the two-fiddy. And it's completely intentional. There's a lot of potential love there that seemed to disappear, so I have to wonder where it went. I guess this means I'm very capable of loving a single person above and beyond the call of love duty.

Or that I have a thing for girls who give me firsts. *shrug*

Yonphi · Apr 8, 2003

Kiss Me All Night

"You already spoke in great lengths about kissing."

Yes, well, not enough, really. Hanging out with E5 some more Friday night. Played DDR about 4 or 5 times... in about a month's time I'm up to a C on 6 feet (Twin Bee). And I got my first AA on a 4 foot... the song? "Kiss Me All Night" (the label says "DDR Extreme" but I'm told this is 8th mix for those interested). Among other songs that weren't at all appropriate.

Working up a sweat, and riding a steep difficulty curve. Yep, my job is to break video games, you know that already.

We went and got some water, drove down to the trendy-trendy beach and just scoped out a private little spot she used to remember, that now is covered in tags and fenced off. A bit of a drive. But, you know, regardless of what horrible things I say about this place, Miami really is a beautiful town at night.

We ate a thing or two, and parked at about 3 in the morning. She reclined and was prone to napping for about 20 minutes or so. I spent the time well.

In the interest of not being played for a chump, I'm been a lot more affectionate with her. In past, she was affectionate: it drove me crazy. But if I'm on the output end then things seem to work out so that I don't go crazy. She rubs my belly for good luck and runs her fingers through my hair. I stroke her nose with a finger and hug an lot.

This night I spent those moments putting her to sleep, gently stroking her face and arm. She woke up a few times, and dozed right back off. She awakened for real when we heard a siren, but it wasn't for us. We got out of there quick just in case. I drove her home and stopped right there in front.

We kept chatting some more, and of the two things she would say that night which are likely to stay in my brain forever even years after my death, one of them is right up there in the three nicest things anyone has ever said to me.

"You've got a really nice touch. Soft and gentle. Are you sure you've never had a girlfriend?"

Oh my. How lovely to say such a thing. I don't think she realized how much that meant to me. Maybe it's my run of failure that makes me greatly value and want to treasure a woman. And while I can't with her, I most certainly would touch her as I would a valuable, delicate treasure.

We got to talking about kissing. She seemed to have trouble understanding my position on it. See, I would definitely have liked to kiss her that night. The mood was just right by my judgement. After all, had things gone my way this kiss would have been 5.5 years ago. Plus I'm totally curious about it. I mean, how does it feel? I've got some idea about it but, the mind's eye distorts. And a guy my age should know what a kiss feels like.

I mentioned that, if we were childhood friends, then I'd bet we would have kissed prior. After a bit of quiet, she said I can give her a friendly pop kiss.

And I did. I mentioned that I learned a lot. She asked what. So I did it again. I had learned a little bit about lips and texture. I learned a bit about the sound. And it was neat. Really neat. I ended up pop kissing her a total of five times, just to see different positions on the mouth, sides, dead center, how I should go about it and stuff.

It didn't stop there. She asked if that was all I needed to get my kiss-desires out of my head. I said it helped, but that it was just a little preview into a larger world I can't comprehend (in a completely non-requesting manner, I wouldn't do that to her intentionally).

She recalled a recent dream in which we were kissing. But she wouldn't know if she would be able to do such a thing. I clarified that she didn't have to do anything with me. She then said she felt bad about not doing it. I repeated my statement.

We sat there for a bit. E5 likes to ask what I'm thinking, but this time I asked what she was. She said she was thinking about the kiss. Then I recieved a question on which is more important to me: kissing someone or being kissed. I tried to take both. She said that I should be focused on kissing someone, because a girl may or may not kiss back, but she won't be forward enough to kiss me first.

By this time it was 4:30 am. She looked at me, I looked at her. She had her best poker face on. I waited until a passing car passed us. While I was waiting, I was thinking that I've been bold a few times before, but then I gave up at it. Being physically bold has never paid off, but, what do I expect? Girls to jump on me? Who'll do that?

I thought for that dozen seconds. I looked at her, licked my lips, and quickly went forward. I kissed her, and she opened her mouth and I followed suit, and before I knew it we were twiddling tongues in her mouth, in my mouth, twisting head one way, then the other, feeling each other's breath on our faces. My hand was at her side, the other keeping me from falling over the center console, and both were shaking uncontollably. We stopped, and she gave me a "well?" and I gave her a "wow."

The mind's eye distorts, all right. Perhaps it's a survival mechanism, that my expectations in kissing were downplayed because I didn't want to feel even more worthless for not having been kissed. But at that moment, I was making out with E5. And again. And stop, and again. And stop, and again.

Until about 5:45 that morning. Elapsed kissing time: about one hour. She said I wasn't bad for a beginner, so I suppose that's a compliment.

Someways through:
- I took off my glasses.
- I engaged in halfway kissing, somewhat between that quick and simple kiss earlier and making out.... light tongue play.
- She asked if I was happy, and gave an afirmative.
- She was starting to speak, but I had started approaching her for a kiss. I ended up doing an interruption kiss.
- My hands were in her hair, stroking her face, her sides, her arms.
- Her hands were in my hair, stroking my face and neck, my sides and back.
- She was definitely kissing back.

At 5:45, she said the second thing I will have burned into my skull. (I'll tell you in a bit). We kissed the best we were going to that morning at that time. The sky was starting to lighten. We pushed our chests into each other, I readjusted myself with my stabilizing arm to touch her with both, and parted a bit. I fondled her breast with one hand, and grabbed her butt with the other. I could feel her breathing change, and that was just a great kiss.

We didn't know how we should part, but I gave one last nice kiss and said that is a good finisher. She left the car at 6am.

Really happy. My first kisses, and they were great.

And the guilt? Well, I almost hate to say it, but, none. Out to lunch the past few days. The original guilt has almost completely dissipated. I was wondering whether it was because it was over, or enough time has passed to look at the big picture. I certainly don't want to throw away a friendship to find out, though. At least not intentionally.

But, Monday night I went out to see her. Between those times, I havn't been "kiss crazy" as I was about The Incident. When I left my house Monday, the last thing I thought I'd be doing was making out with her again.

And we did. And it took a little drastic turn. For brevity I'll describe it simply: she came. It's been a month since she has by my fingers, and just about a month precisely when we did it again. Didn't we agree we weren't going to? I guess we just got carried away. Kissing at the same time, mind you, was awesome.

The talk afterwords was powerful. The only reason why the kissing was possible was that she was able to do it without emotion. She also said she wasn't sure if she was going to feel guilty later. I asked if she wants her husband less, and she said the opposite was true. My response? "Of course. And therefore this couldn't have been that bad."

She clammed up a bit and I tried to get her to say what was on her mind. E5 didn't want to, she said she cared about me too much to say it. Considering other things she said during the powerful chat (like how she loves the way I play with her breasts), it was ok. This night, monday night, she said something else (sure I said there were two things, but it's taken me two days to write this, and I started Monday afternoon). She said I was just a fuck. And she feels really bad for it.

Operating Code:
1. Remind we didn't have sex.
2. Evaluate the situation.
3. Relay my results.

Step 1: Simple enough.
Step 2: Ok, I'm just a sure thing. If she lets me, I'll do lots of things. I'm a substitute, a temporary replacement. But this should come as no surprise. Sure it's not an optimal situation: the optimum would be being with someone who is into me, not imagining other people. However, it's ok. I enjoy it. I'm happy to be a toy. I really am. I'd be happier with someone who is into me, yes, but I'm happy just the way that is.
Step 3: I told her so. She seemed to understand what it was I was saying, and I told her that any feeling badly for me because she's using me is unjustified. I'm fine with being used that way. If I wasn't then I wouldn't let her. Clearly this is obvious: if the situation made me uncomfortable I wouldn't do it. And I am very glad that I'm not threatening her feelings for her husband. That means that it's not so bad.

We finished that evening the same way it all started with the kissing: with a nice pop kiss and I dropped her off.

While a little blumpy, I think this could be a nice little niche carved out from the chaos. At least for a little while. I'm just gonna go with it and see how it goes.

I simply must tell you all, though, that my motivation for finding real action elsewhere has increased dramatically. It's been dropping a bit, honestly speaking, only because I've wanted so much to let it go and maybe that would help me feel not-unfulfilled (this is not the same as fulfilled, mind you).

Temporary replacement? Just a fuck? She's just lonely?

That'll do. That'll do.

Yonphi · Apr 12, 2003

Harmonization

Previously, on Trials of Chastity:

There is a term used by the entertainment media industry in their attempts to get copyright laws of multiple nations to become the same (and always with a push for laws that are the most restrictive for the consumer). The term is "harmonization."

I've got a lot of ways of thinking and doing things. Much like in Physics there are many many ways to figure out the same thing. The persuit in Physics is to find the "unified formula?" (I don't know any physics people so the title may be wrong.) In essence, it's a harmonizing of physics formulas so that one formula can be used and everything is encased in it: gravity, electrostatics, magnetic fields, relativity, etc.

So I crave a little harmonization in my life. I'm in a bit of a position here where I am enough in control where I can make changes to my sex life. Which is simply has never been the case before. There exists someone who is willing to engage in naughty things with me. And all I need to obtain them is to make a move. Within reason, of course. If I had to categorize E5, I would say she's in the "high-sex" quadrant. And I would have said that even back in the day. But that doesn't mean I could do anything anytime I want. And, even then, I'm still not getting any kind of physical sexual release. Not so much as a through-clothes hand-job. So I'm still very much a toy.

The assertion is that I'm ok being a toy. After all, I'm still ready and willing to fill that role, right?

But I'm really crossed here. On the one hand, I'm really denying myself stuff: she's not interested in me as me, therefore any experience points gained are not really useful. Then again, experience for experiences' sake isn't exactly shabby either. After all, why do anything unusual like skydive or play shuffleboard (quite the contrast I know) if doing it in and of itself is not enjoyable?
I could just stop being forward and see what happens there. But then I could be just eliminating activity that I may never be able to reproduce. E5 is not by any means what I would consider a success, but, still, have you any idea what it takes even to just get a fucking date? If you've been reading this long, then, yes, you have an idea of what it takes me.
Or I could just go ahead and gently nudge in the right direction. The problem is that I may crash and burn getting there and find myself on the business end of a few bullets. And I'll always have my neurotic nature do something to my spirits. "This time you're spending with a girl who's just using you to get her off could be time in which you may have met someone who actually likes you. I guess you'll never know, and you've cashed in that possibility of real sex with real love for a thing that she would never have emotion over.

It's just that I want my cake and I'd like to eat it, too, while I've got it anyway.

Thing is, a resolved decision to stop or continue doesn't hold. I can't think about it long enough to keep that my decision. There just really are a lot of pros and cons for both sides.

I'm crossed between things like "A guy like me should take what he can get." and "A guy like me deserves better."

But I have no idea which is right. Perhaps there is a third answer outside of these two that will show me the light.

Even with that, I have to wonder how many among you no longer wish me good luck for being, well, dare I say, "A Typical Guy" in the worst connotation. When I speak of this to someone I really love and who may love me back, will she scold me and hate me, or will she forgive my transgressions and reassert love?

I don't know. But whatever path I end up taking, I hope it's the optimal one.

It's a "Decisive Action Quotient."

Next time, on Deadhorse Beating Z...

Yonphi · Apr 14, 2003

Standstill

Found an old playlist. Loaded said playlist. Played said playlist. While my primary partitions had much of the stuff that couldn't ever be recovered, I had lots of partitions and I managed to recover most of my MP3s. And my musical tastes really havn't changed much.
If not said before, I'd like to say that I love the female voice. I don't even really mind artificial things where the same voice is overlayed ontop of itself to make a singer her own backup singer. Although I tend not to enjoy parts where it's terribly obvious pitch shifting is going on. Although I tend to look at vocal shifting much like I look at hair plugs: you only really notice the bad ones.

So the topic for the last couple of posts has been about the same damn thing over and over, hasn't it? Well, I have made a final decision. And, let me tell you, it was very difficult. I've been trying to pick up perl, and been pretty obvious to others that I've been thinking hard about perl. But it's only a smoke screen. I don't understand a damn thing. I really hate scripting languages: I need real structure.

But my decision isn't going to make any friends. Let me tell you that right now. It goes against a lot of what I thought my nature was like, and so it's an educational and humbling experience to say the least.

Revisit a few (2?) months ago. I spent a week not masturbating. Why? To prove something? The idea was sort of to see how different things'll be, right? The do-or-die theory? That if I didn't have regular release, then I'd me more... more... ahhh... more risky and less safety. A lot of good that did me. Entries to The List were and are slower than ever. Even before I starting having a little fun with E5. Surely this is not good.

A few variables are left out of the picture, though. Shortly thereafter I reopened the floodgates, Ms. Robinson made her apperance. During adventures, my vision had been drawn slightly higher north to a not-dissimilar person. (I really hope I don't have to spell that one out, actually. Despite the fact that I have before.)

Denying myself of something I like did not make anything happen, nor did wallowing in what I do like. Perhaps the events are connected as they must be, but the folly is assuming a much greater connection between things than actually exists.

I'm going to be a guy and say I like my situation. I did have E5 come over to my place a few days ago and had similar fun. There was more light (my night vision is really not what it used to be). In fact, I even got to get off on my own, albeit due to my own efforts. Yet she helped in a way she can. Big thanks for a fine pre-peak kiss. *blush* We did end up napping together, only to be rudely reminded that I don't live by myself. A quick game of CYA (cover your ass, but figuratively since we weren't naked at all, although I did move an annoying bra out of the way more than once) and we went and had some cliche fried chinese food.

Thing is, it's going on again. She's passing fleeting comments on how she, if she wasn't married, would have sex with me. There are similar idle comments on how I should get her "drunk, but not so drunk that [she] can't remember, and therefore be unable to tell me how I was." Thing is, these sorts of things just come out of nowhere. The topic could be batteries or Rubik's Cube or small squirrels, and she would bring something up.

But I don't mind. There's a little niche we've fallen into. I'm not sure how wide this here rabbit hole is, but I do have my flashlight-equipped hard hat on and taking a little look around.

Whether or not I do anything, things won't change. She won't like me more either way: I know she's just lonely. She likes the attention I give her, and I could either give it to her or not. If I choose not to, what is served other than pouring cement in this rabbit hole?

The primary problem is what if I find someone really nice and she'd like me enough to give me a chance: a REAL chance. Not a pseudochance like this current thing is. Someone who will do such things with me because of me, not because of the absence of someone else. But, more importantly, someone I can love: freely and openly? AND honestly.
The solution is simple. The "we have to stop before it's too late, I think I'm getting emotionally attached" card. She played it on me, but took it back. I certainly could throw it on the table when needed.
A bit of a double standard? Yes, but what's that they say? All's fair in love and war? And there is a war going on. But I've got my own private little war, too. The war in persuit of what I want.

"I thought you didn't want to play any games."

That's right. I don't. But I will if things come to it. Just because I don't want to play the game, doesn't mean I havn't already been thrust right into the middle of it. You can't expect to camp out in a paintball combat zone and not get hit just because you don't want to play.

It's much ado about nothing, though. Nobody's interested in me. And so it will continue. E5 doesn't change that, she only is able to provide more motivation to find something better. More genuine, more fulfilling.

The decision is to continue and worry about it when it becomes an issue. He'll have to come home eventually, and then things'll be right back to as normal as it can be. What's done, after all, is done. Does it matter how many times I do anything inappropriate with her? After the first one I'm already marked. You can't kill a corpse. And I can't believe I'm quoting Robert Blake. Make sure someone smacks me before I swear on some kid's eyes.

For better or worse.

If you're in a downloading mood, download Standstill (Aubrey). That's exactly what I'm thinking.

I don't want to stand still.

Yonphi · Apr 24, 2003

Silliness

So much for not wanting to stand still... this journal has stood still for about, what, a week? I feel quite ashamed of myself. Certainly I could do better than that.

It's one of those moods. Every so often I'd find it, and it'd find me, and we'll just laugh and laugh. No, seriously.

Yesterday night I was holding a New Times and walking to my car and walked by someone. I just had a quick urge to roll up the paper and just whap him with it. STAT, immediately and only once. And then just revert back to a guy walking to his car. And it wasn't so much for the violence, it was for the pure comedic value. Maybe I've been watching too much Trigger Happy TV, seems like the kind of stuff that guy'd do. I mean, what would you do just minding your own business and then you get a tube of newspaper smacked across your back? It would clearly stop being funny if it was a hardcover book or a baseball bat or a large spinning drill bit.

Although I'm sure he'd fail to see the humor in this and probably kick my ass. Although I did chuckle out loud for the rest of foot-based parking lot navigation.

I've been making dorky jokes all over the place. Ooh, ooh, there's K5. Finally. The "goth"-est looking girl at work. We can chatted a bit here and there. She said that she'd bet I took AP classes and...

(quick definition: AP classes are "Advanced Placement" courses taken in high school which are supposed to be faster paced and they climax at the AP exams. I didn't take all AP classes, just, you guessed it, Calculus and Computer Science. They consisted of a group of multiple choice questions which were rather difficult to apply the Multiple Choice Test Algorithm on (you know, where they have two really close answers, one almost answer, and a completely oddball answer.) because each answer COULD be an answer if you do a certain procedure on. A quick equivalent question would be "What is d[x]/dy of y = 7x^5 + x + 5? a) 35x^5 + x b) 35x^4 + 1 c) x^6 + x^(1/2) + 5x d) x(28x^3+1)" Now, this is super simple but you understand what I mean. It could be something complicated with a non-trival computational investment and, there's one right way to do it and three wrong ways to do it and each wrong way results in an answer that is
present on the multiple choice. After those, there's 5 "free-response" questions where you may be asked to prove something or solve a multi-part word problem, or produce a class library or something like that. To be fair, I took AP Computer Science back when it was in Pascal, so they never called it a "class" in the Object Oriented Programming sense of the word.)

(so much for a "quick" definition. And to be fair, I didn't take AP courses that I wasn't absolutely sure I could get 5's on (out of 5). No AP History or English for me.)

Anyway, she said she'd bet I took a bunch of AP classes, and in the same breath said she was so dumb she had to go into DP classes. What did I say?

"DP?"

She says, "yeah, like, dumb placement."

"Oh, I thought you were talking about... ahem ahem" (and yes, I said ahem outloud.)

"Ooh, you're bad," she responded.

Ok, this explanation may not be necessary, but maybe it is. DP is an already established porn term. It's kind of confusing since some people define it differently and for each document I find that puts the argument to rest, there's another document that puts the argument to rest by defining it differently. DP stands for "double penetration", interpretation of which could mean either she's got a dick in her pussy and ass or she's got two dicks in her pussy. Depending on who you speak to, that is. And the context. And yes I've seen porn both ways.

The primary question going on in my mind isn't "wow, is that gay?" (although, the rules from what I understand is that it isn't technically gay until the guys' nuts touch or they get spunk on each other), but, instead, "is she enjoying that?"
That questions applies for a lot of, actually, but especially there. One of those other things occupying my mind when I see stuff, you know?
This goes back to the high sex/innocent girl thing. I don't mind an innocent girl. I have no qualms against female virgins. Honest. BUT she's gotta have a deeper, darker, sexier side. Hiding it from me doesn't win any points in that direction, I'd like to think that there would be good things coming my way: immediately knowing I'm not gonna have any fun isn't motivational at all.
She may not know what a DP is, but, open describing it, should be open enough to think about it and express how gross it is or how nice it sounds.
After all, I'm not exactly skilled. For me to do what she likes, she's gonna have to let me know. I would never take such things offensively. She'll have it her way, as best as I could provide.

But I digress.

I'm not having as much fun with E5 as you may think. Since the last time, we hadn't done anything. Not that I hadn't wanted to, but the mood seems strangely avoided. She'll often break the mood, almost as if on purpose. I think she doesn't want to do anything with me anymore. After all, husband's orders say he's over there only for about 6 weeks. BUT it would seem that she doesn't want to say "absolutely no more" because then she'd have to eat her words if we do it again.
Feh, and that's just after I say that I'm willing to do whatever I get. Oh well. Although I have quoted her as saying "if I wasn't married, we'd probably be bed buddies." My internal response? "Yeah, well, you are so shut up before you make me wish for things that won't be."

But, there's more inspiration around other than having context to what an orgasming woman is like, during and after. And there's more inspiration around other than what it's like kissing someone. She speaks of him a lot: her husband is terribly missed. And I did catch her bursting into tears not too long ago at the sound of a song. Aside from being a clue that I should be completely not-forward that day. Duh.
I do, however, feel badly for her. It's gotta be tough. Everything she sees and hears reminds her of him, she looks at things in a store and tells me what he'd like and shares with me presents she'll get him. Even as far as saying what she wants to wear when he comes back. In fact, she's lost about 20 pounds since February and freely admits it's for him.

It's a little insight into something else. What a woman is in love. I guess the inspiration is to have someone love me. Too bad I can't do it on my own. This girl to love me will have to do it more or less on her own. I just have to not mess it up before it happens.

Oh well. Meeeeep. Here's to more frequent posts, yes?

Yonphi · Apr 25, 2003

Genetic Disposition

I sit here. Just... sitting. Staring at some dead flowers that might be less dead should I have put them in water. I'm not sure why they feel I'm entitled to Secretary's Day gifts, and even then why it can't be something that would make me care. But there they are. No, I don't keep dead flowers laying about, it's in my garbage but it's so full it's got them on top.

My current sinus headache reminds me that I must be genetically inferior. I havn't had a headache in a long time, actually. But I'm by no means a good genetic candidate for anyone's children.

I did see something rather shocking the other day. Someone pointed me in the direction of boygirlbang.com and directed me to crack a password and check out the first episode. And I did. And it was a train wreck.

Now, I did at one time get pointed to the bangbus and was told that perhaps those guys could hook me up, and, if they did, she'd never talk to me again. It's about these two guys plus one extra who go around town looking for a girl to pick up. They do, and pretty much talk her into getting in their van, doing things, and eventually the extra guy nails her and by the time she's having sex things turn mean and they start saying really mean things to her. Paraphrasing from the first one, after she just gave head to the guy, was, "go down on me." "no way, we don't go down on bitches like you." Very misogynistic. Not my style at all. Anyone who gives herself to me will be deserving of a friggin' medal. The "punchline" of each one is where they get the girl to step out of the vehile and they just drive off laughing. Real or not? You decide.

To boygirlbang. It seemed to be a little different. The one behind the camera was a girl. This particular episode featured a huge guy around 300 pounds. Yikes. And, claimeth the video, he was a 28 year old virgin. He evidently gave her $400 to get him laid. She conveniently finds a girl in a parking lot (although it does look staged at this point) and convinces her to deflower him for $600. All the while he was getting a bit of verbal abuse from this girl hooking him up. The target girl was pretty nice to him (considering the pay), but the camerawoman said things like "wouldn't you like to do Bob The Blob?" (paraphrase). The most particularly disturbing part, other than that he was so paralyzed with nervousness he could barely do anything, was when he lays down and takes off his clothes (getting grief over his underwear) and she starts to perform fellatio. And it was maybe a half a second until she pulls up again and looked like she was ready to manually stroke him when he came. And there was laughing abounds. "She barely touched you, Bob!" and they pointed the camera at his face and he was just laying there, expressionless. That poor poor guy. Not cool. In the same way that what they do to those women in bangbus isn’t cool. But I can’t deny the fact that his shame is something that I fear.

A girl who’d be so kind as to put my poison pole in her mouth gets me to come way too quick and she bursts out laughing. How will I hide my face from her?

“But she wouldn’t.”

No, no, but she might. That’s one motivational reason why I should maybe be a little picky. After all, I’ve got a frail ego to protect.

Back to boygirlbang. The end of it was that they kicked the girl out of their place and laughed at her a lot. When she knocked on the door to get her money they ended up stiffing her on it and denied her a ride back to where they picked her up. All the more reason for her to be picky.

All these power-games with sex and stuff really ruins it for the rest of us. People have guards up and it just gets in the way. As intended, yes, but things might be easier if there was assurances that, say, I won’t kill you after I’m done.

I won’t kill you. Honest. Let it not be said that there is no honor left in the world.

Speaking of the honor system, I seem to have lost my memory card. If you find a Playstation memory card, 3rd party, with a little picture of Washuu from Tenchi Muyo holding a little screwdriver on it, please let me know. I have a sinking feeling I left it in the local arcade, and the bonus would be that you get to see me in person.

Hmm, I feel like one who hires bounty hunters. The masked guy in the darkness entering the light to collect his prize.

Or something like that.

Girls and computer games... at least my priorities are clear.

Yonphi · May 7, 2003

Boo This Man

Reprise:
Hi, my name is ____ and I deserve to be boo'd.

The original version of the above sentence had my real name typed out where the blank was. There is a little scream in the back of my head wanting to give everyone a big reward as I reenter the fold. But thankfully it was caught. I'll screw up sooner or later, so anyone suspecting anything may have their theories confirmed. But no promises.

So, lets see...

1) No, E5 and I have been very well behaved. Actually, things are a little more sexually charged. I'll say something dirty and she'll pick up on it, or (even better) I'll say something completely innocent and clean and she'll find a dirty pun in there. She'll catch me fingering the straw in my drink and tell me to stop thinking about pussy. Gosh, so transparent am I!
Lots of troops are coming home. And one of them is him. I knew he would come home safe and sound. Why? Well, let's just say not every trained killer is anywhere near danger at all times. Him getting killed in combat is much like me getting killed in combat. It's just not gonna happen.
So, yes, my absence from here should not be taken as he has come home and killed me. The news of my death has been greatly exaggerated. (Who originally said that, anyway? Oscar Wilde?) Then again, when I'm killed I probably won't see it coming so hopefully I can write more regularly to actually give a signal when I die. Then someone can come over to where I'm currently living and find the name of he who has killed me locked away in my Sakura Diaries DVD.
As far as I know, though, he doesn't. And I'd like to keep it that way. I like my appendages and I like my life, regardless of how pathetic is can be at times.

2) In other news hot off the press from today, E1 is getting married herself. Wonderful Boyfriend is soon to be Wonderful Husband. Unlike others who will be getting married, I can't be too happy for her. I just can't bring it out from inside of me. Clearly it's because maybe I still think she should have given me a chance. But she reads this and I'll probably get a really mean e-mail about this later but it needs to be said.
I'm sure if I kept track there'd be a lot of people my age up and getting married. Once again I'm getting left behind without even knowing it. After all, if I don't get married, how will I ever get a blender of my very own? I'd like to threaten to elope, but, feh, I'm not underage. Youth is clearly wasted on the young.

3) Classes were over a while ago. The dream of getting laid during college is a dead one. Even Howard Stern got laid in college, no problem. "Ces la vie," is that how it goes? My parents almost convinced me to walk during this semester's commencement to make up for my skipping out on it before. The functional word being "almost." From what I understand, one of this year's speakers made a big deal over "Trade Stock Shade Grown Coffee." I would attach an "I shit you not" label on this, but I may have erronius information which, for the love of God, I hope it is. Now, I like clean air and pure water just like anyone else, but there is a BIG difference between an environmentalist and an environmentalist wacko. Sorry, but someone needs to say it.

4) I did get a little invasion of privacy not too long ago. I had gotten sick again and spent about 5 days in bed. Not fun. But when I got better and left to go to work and apply for some real jobs I came back home to find my room squeaky clean. On inspection, my secret porn stash had been shuffled about. I had an old pillow in the chaimber that I used to cover the view and to prop myself up without destroying my real pillow in the process that was discarded without my permission. But I hardly have a leg to stand on when I think they counted how many Adriana Sage and Jassie pornos I've got. And I had a spindle's worth of burned porn. Sure, the top CD could have been an inconspicuous "misc" label, but it was "Bikini Babes from Burbank VCD 1/2" instead.
And The Toy was found. Yet my father looked me straight in the eye not too long later and said "We're going to be in the audience of a Spanish talk show."
Clap. Clap. Clap. Well played.

5) K6, K7, K8, and K9 are real. I'm frozen on number 99. I have to admit I'm a little frightened about hitting 100. I always told myself I'd dump The List when I start getting action because by then how many girls I try to hit on will be irrelevant. Once I have once success I have my success percentage and I'm set. Sure a bigger sample will provide a more accurate percentage, but I just want an idea. Plus success helps determine if things are even worth the hassle.
Unfortunately, they were uneventful. Except for K8, of which E5 encouraged me to go for after she noticed I was staring at her a lot. She had bet me a dollar that she was a lesbian, or at least would tell me that she was. I accepted the bet. Lets just say I got a crisp new one dollar bill. High stakes this is not, the non-monitary stakes are high enough thank you very much.
But, *panic* 100 approached? Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Why am I so nervous? This is a lot like expiration dates on food. Like, you mean, on May 18th this block of cheese is going to up and instantly turn moldy? So if I sit and watch it at 11:59pm on the 17th and stay for a minute I'll be treated to the amazing transformation from cheese to sludge? By comparison, hitting on and failing with 99 girls doesn't mean anything but once that number is 100, whoa!!! Watch out, dead man walking?
It's worth noting that E5 has no idea she's E5, or how many girls are on The List, or even no idea of the existance of the list. She actually is quoted telling me I should "try harder." Fuck you. Seriously.
Speaking of quotes, When talking about E1 to her, she actually said, in reference to some long-forgotten event, "What a bitch! Fuck _____!" to which I answered "I wish I did."

6) Five words. Across the Nightmare. Standard. B. I'm still sore. I have only one witness.

7) I owe lots of e-mail and I feel like a ripe bastard for it.

I wish I had a number 8, but I don't.
Clearly, you should boo this man.

Yonphi · May 8, 2003

Fixing that which is broken

Sometimes I think I quit to early. If I don't notice steady improvement in a skill, I'll tend to drop it.

Way back when I used to play piano. I was maybe 8 years old. Nevermind I'd been striking a computer keyboard since I was 4. I had shown fast improvement first off. After my first 6 months my teacher wanted to put me in a competition. Competition? 6 months? My folks were all hung-ho for it, but I knew the truth. I wasn't THAT good. Family was talking like I was a little Beethoven, and I remember feeling completely disgusting hearing them brag around to their friends. I looked for any excuse not to play on command. Even so much that I remember considering slashing my fingertips so nobody could ever demand I play.
The big trick was learning the steps. Between any two neighboring keys, is a half-step on a scale. Between C and C# is a half step. Between E and F is a half step. This allowed for subtle adjustments in key, and all notes are divisible by half step. It explains why you can go Do-Re-Mi from C to C and it sounds alright just using the white keys, but you can't just use the white keys from D to D and expect it to work.

This could be so dramatic, actually. I could have gotten in a fight with the teacher over which piece I wanted to play... she wanted me to play the difficult song that would win a prize, and I wanted to play the song that I loved. Feh, how trite. The reality is that I didn't feel like being a show toy. I flaked for that reason. And that for the last two months of playing I was only practicing what I knew, and not learning anything more complicated.

The learning curve hit a little plateau, and I flake. I demand Samus Aran, er, Samusfaction, er, Satisfaction.

I don't play at all anymore. I don't even remember the stuff I was practicing two hours a day each day for. Rarely goes by an opportunity for a family member to tell me "what a shame" it was that I quit.

On the other hand

A lot of times, if I make a mistake, I take any means necessary to correct it as best I can. Today I picked up a pack of pumpkin seeds from the market and I didn't realize I had not picked up the lightly salted version as I had intended but instead got raw.
Raw seeds are better for me. Sure. Salt can't help all that much, and if they're salted they're probably greased up a bit. And if it's with hydrogenated oils then it's REALLY bad. But, damn it, I wanted a salty nutty flavor. And my stupid ass picked up the wrong pack.
I didn't realize it until I opened it and ate a teaspoonful. Not wanting to be outdone, I poured it into a container and splashed in maybe a tablespoon of peanut oil and a tablespoon of salt. I tried it... yuck... not at all what I expected. Really oily, too. I overestimated how much I would need. Not knowing what to do next I spread out a layer on foil and baked it for a few minutes, figuring it'd roast them a bit and get some flavor absorbed (and not look so oily). Nope. Now they were just hot and gross.
Not ready yet to admit defeat I beat them into a mush with pestle and mortar to maybe get some pumpkin-seed butter. Taste again. Yeesh. Add a little splenda... oh my goodness. Too sweet. Damn it. This doesn't get much worse.
I ended up pitching the whole thing. At this point I don't think it would have been humane to feed it to the birds or my mom's cat.

I should have quit while I was behind. Really. But I didn't. I overcompensated and made a mess anyway. There is, in fact, a similarity between these pumpkin seeds and my non-existant love life. But I think it's pretty obvious.

Don't make me tell you the story of when I ended up making ketchup, ok?

Yonphi · May 11, 2003

Paralysis

(double post tonight, I'll explain why in a bit)

Posted on 05-11-2003 at 03:45 AM
It's happening. I thought if I prepared for it I would be able to glide through it and feel resentful and bitter later. But, no, all I've managed to do is induce a strange state of paralysis.

Let me explain.

100 is coming up. I've been a little stalled on it insofar that I'm not looking to get it done anytime soon. But I'm not one to turn away a good thing if I see it.

It's kind of like if you play Legend of the Red Dragon (the latest version, BTW, is on a board called eg.ath.cx ... telnet there (with a halfway decent client) for happy good time), you know you should fight the easier lower stakes forest battles first (use all your fights) before picking on other players. That way, if you lose, you still have all the experience you can get from the forest battles. Otherwise you might get killed and miss out on the forest battles for the day. See, when you're dead in these sorts of games, you're out for the day.

Today at Local Arcade (if you look closely, I've stated its name but I won't do it again... so LA is ok for now) there was this girl. OMG, she reminded me of every good quality I've seen individually around but all together. Going into pseudo-stalker mode, I was watching her actions, figuring out her words from her mouth, watching her wiggle her bottom for no apparant reason. I have a love for Anime fangirls, since they tend to have other traits which are desirable like tolerance for video games and tech stuff. Short black hair, a shortie, a cute face (now that I think about it, almost Link like from Zelda Windwaker... hmmmm...), small breasts and clever hips. (can hips be clever? Yes, they can.)
She was surrounded by like a million people (ok ok, maybe 4 or 5 others). One of the rules I follow is Never Hit on a Girl in a Group. The more I think about it I'm not sure why that is... it just feels like a correct rule to follow. At least if she'd be embarassed to say yes to a guy like me, in private she could. But around her friends? Nah, she's got a standard to keep. A guy like me? Any inkling of a chance becomes a non-chance, not through fault of my own, but fault of her peers.
It turns out she's 16. Yikes. I was there with E5 and when I walked her back to her vehicle (evidently there's a serial rapist about around here. Bah, it could happen at any time: women should take sensible precautions all the time, not just when there's a big local news story about some rapists. But that's human nature). On the way she says "She's total jailbate."

I know. And you know what??? 7 years ain't bad. I'm old enough to be her... hmmm.... babysitter? And, thinking about things, such a thing would be advantageous. Isn't there supposed to be some allure to the older man thing? Ours would be a forbidden love (cue the grassy knoll background) that perseveres through perilous opposition (cue the blooming red roses). Her father would want to kill me... but then, so what if one more person wants to murder me? Her mom would warn her about me. My father would lecture me about underage girls and how she could cry rape pretty much at any time and they'll believe her like the sky is blue. My mom would beg and plead that I don't get her pregnant. Ooh, the scandals that would erupt!

But she seemed a little distinterested in me. So, to me, she was just another person who I could think up a whole myriad of potential destinies with (most of which include sex, lets not kid around here) but they would always be out of reach of my real potential destinies.

By the end of the night I still didn't think I did a good job of anything but I wasn't sweating it since, hey, 100. But after a night of a few jokes and conversation and stuff, she really surprised me. "You're cool, what's your name?"

She asked of me. Quoth the Raven: "What the fuck?" Thankfully I answered with me real name. And asked hers. Nevermind this conversation was while she was riding piggy-back on one of her friends. She responded with her name.

When I was in school, I wrote a lot of fiction. Every week I would have another little short story. Most of them died in a few hard drive mishaps, but I do remember most of them. You've heard me mention the Formulas of Fiction before. The reason why I stopped writing was that everything I was writing was turning out the same. I would start out with something interesting like a short story about something similar to Groundhog Day but instead of just reliving the day, you relive the day with all your other selves. And then it would just degenerate back into a guy and his persuit of the tender caress of a woman.

It was irritating.

But one thing I do remember, is that when I wrote fiction with my character, who went by many names, there was, a predominant amount of time, a female lead who he would persue and, occasionally, get.

Her name was the same as this girl's name.

A sign? Who knows. But I did ammend the Girl List Specification. Since I truely don't expect to his 3728 attempts before I get lucky and/or give up, I've added a P prefix to the ID. Therefore, I officially declare this girl, this animated girl that I better see again at Local Arcade: PL1. The next (the potential) L1.

What I'm afraid of this time is waiting so long for the perfect opportunity to strike that I may miss out completely. So I have to get over this 100 business and get to work. But maybe this is a method to buffer my methods so that maybe she'd be more likely to react kindly to any advances I choose to make?

And to think today I didn't shave, either.

Yonphi · May 11, 2003

Comedic Relief

Back when improvisation.ws starting going nutty (the DNS, that is, not the site in general, which always seems to be up: a good thing) and I was passed along the improvresourcecenter link, the first thing I did was ping the address to find out it's IP address. So here I was bookmarking the IP address just in case any more site names decide to go bonkers.

And the neat thing? The old address is still up, and I posed on that board. I came on earlier today to give a shot at catching up on all the journals I've been missing only to see nothing changed. I shrugged, thinking everyone all of a sudden had more interesting things to do. Evidently the name resolved to a DIFFERENT IP address, with the current active board still kicking. And I just find this out now. This clearly was my fault for trying to circumvent the whole DNS thing.

And so ends the double-post explanation. Although I do reserve the right to post twice in succession if the need fills me, but if I does I hope not to make it a habit.

Among advice I usually get, be myself seems to be in the top 3. I've always maintained that this works only if myself is the type that women are able (and willing) to fall for. Thing is, I'm never not myself. Myself is a little tricky sometimes, a little bit of acting instinct to feign confidence, but it's never not genuine. I am what I am, and that's all that I am. (oh, sorry, meant to say "yam".)

So of course when The Onion has an article like this it makes me very happy. Not so much because it's a little depressing, but because I must have a twisted sense of humor.

For the record, I found the Meatwave article to be very funny, too. Hey, thanks to http://mobile.theonion.com/, it's pretty much the only site I can view from work through the telnet connection and still maintain some semblance of sanity.

Thing is, I always felt doubtful whether I am able to be loved. No, wait, that's the wrong word. I know I am ABLE to be loved. What I'm doubtful over is whether I am desirable to love. That is, whether any woman will want to love me. Am I a good guy to love? Don't look at me, I havn't the foggiest.
I wonder, if the case exists that I am not a good guy to love, whether or not 1) I'd be able to fix it, and 2) I'd be able to integrate into it so that it becomes me, or, rather, that myself will include these changes.

After all, when I was a child, all I would eat was macaroni and cheese and occasionally fried eggs and rice. That was me being myself. Now I eat all sorts of foods, and now it is me being myself. Therefore, the self has changed.

In my old yearbook, there's a lot of things that ended with "don't change" or "stay sweet" or "KIT" (yeah, if you knew the things I was ready to do over the summer you wouldn't have written "KIT"). Yet in the end, these instructions to remain a static being didn't mean that this being was worth anything more than just an amusement. I could understand someone telling me "never change" when she's in love with me. But I'm just some random dorky guy who she wouldn't ever consider and she says it? Feh, what a waste. Wouldn't you like to see me become a guy you'll like?

I watched some porn today for the first time in quite a while. And I think I know why I hadn't. I really wanted to do some of the stuff in there. I was watching some guy pull some girl on top of him from the front with her legs spread wide and up, and he was massaging her breast with one hand and stroking her bare leg with the other and I had a stronger sense of how that sensation would be like. Almost a longing, if you will.

One of the reasons why, if I get laid (and that's a very big if, even still) this journal isn't exactly over. I'll potentially have to come to terms with loving it and wanting more and not being able to get more.

There's still some comedy in my life yet to be extracted.

Yonphi · May 12, 2003

Knowledge Is Power

Hanging out with E5 today, she mentioned again about PL1 after I had mentioned what she said and how we exchanged names while she was still in an animated state.

"Stay away from her: you're a criminal court date waiting to happen."

So there she expressed the option to come back to me at a later date and say "I told you so" while I get plastered all over the evening news as a sex offender. How foolish she is: like I'd get anywhere with her. Sometimes I need to remind myself of the facts to break through the fantasy.

She said it was kind of cute, seeing me all crushed on someone for no logical or purposeful reason.

Just hanging out, her mom and sister started having a discussion about us. Teasing or truthful, who knows. There were comments that it isn't appropriate for a married woman like her to be galivanting around with a guy like me. Yes, galivanting. Whatever that means in this context. And E5's words? "Well, ______ wanted me to hang out with him."

Bomb.

I made a mental note of this and later on when we were alone I asked if that was the truth.
"Yep, it's true. Pretty surprising, huh? Considering he knows all about you."

Bomb explodes now.

Yes, as it turns out, E5's husband (for clarity's sake, lets call him E5H) knows all about me. So, sure, I knew of him while being her friend in high school. I didn't think he was more than just an aquaintance to her, honestly. After all, the way we were together was just-

"Even what happened almost a year ago."

Here I am thinking about how he could know me well enough to encourage her to hang out with me when she moves down here while he's gone, and she informs me that he KNOWS what I did last time. By last time I am referring to this last time. And he still told her to hang out with me?

Something isn't right. And I've figured it out. This was a nice way to get revenge. It was a classy method in which to get me to see first hand how infatuated with him she is (not to say that she shouldn't, don't get me wrong). To rub it in my face. That I thought we were so close but in the end he was closer than ever.
I'm not making a big deal out of it because it's E5. I'm making a big deal out of it because I don't like the fact that it isn't enough that others win, but that they have to squash the losers even after they lost.
The next question is, was her lonliness turned horniness expected? Anticipated? He knows her well enough to know her absolute limits... which suggests...
If so, perhaps that's part of the lesson: you won't get to enjoy yourself because you'll know she's thinking of me. She won't do everything you'd want to because of me. My existance is your bane.
Yes, all of that was part of the lession. Maybe.

I'm not sure what to make out of all this, personally. The whole thing hasn't been bad for me, let's be honest here. And the whole thing hasn't been bad for her, since she feels the same for him as she always had.
Maybe it's just that I don't know what to feel, but I feel a little badly for E5. E5H used her as a tool to try to irk me. She doesn't even realize it. I didn't tell her. Maybe I should?

Maybe I'm jumping into things. Maybe E5H just knows how good friends we were in high school, and the spat from a while back, and wants us to just make up. Maybe I'm a distraction to keep her away from other men who he would consider more threatening. Either way, I have to hand it to him. He's smarter than he's ever let on.

Or it's just dumb luck and I'm reading genius into it like Germans into David Hasselhoff.

For the record, Norm rocks.

I bet you didn't see that one coming after a post like this, huh?

Yonphi · May 18, 2003

On the Prowl?

I've heard it said that everyone harbours ill will and violence towards others spawned by injustice wrought upon them. That there is no true way to burn it off. Forget working out. Forget punching a pillow. Forget carving stick figures into your abdomen. It's no use. And if you take that energy and do no wrong to anyone else, and you hold it in and all of a sudden it's gone, then that energy was just used to kill your soul a little.

I don't necessarily believe it. Not exactly compatable with my "Best Interest" theories. Revenge makes people feel good, evidently, therefore revenge may be in their best interest.

Now that I think of it, I've never really taken revenge on anyone. Ever. For anything. I don't see how it'd make me feel better about anything.
Now, there's a difference between revenge and defense. If someone throws a rock at me with intent to injure, I must return fire or else they would have no deterrent to not continue. And if it comes down to having to get blood from a stone, then it'll happen. (so, yes, you can get blood from a stone: you just have to throw it hard enough.)
But nobody has ever done me wrong that I had held onto and later dispatched towards them. The key to that statement is that it's an A AND B logic statement. It's only true when the condition A is true and B is true and under no other conditions. So yes, I've been wronged, but no I hadn't taken revenge.
On the other hand, I've never been in a fight, either.

The last time I cried was in 6th grade. As usual, I was the new kid and I learned that this particular city was ripe with cruelty. Things were not going my way all that day. I remember being teased quite a bit for various reasons. There was a split in my pants for some reason... I think the seam just came undone because I don't usually have a reason to bend over (I tie my shoes by kicking my foot on top of something), and not to mention that these were largish parachute pants. Forgive me for being a child of the 80's and early 90's.
So there was that, and having my homework stolen. See, I knew I did it, I knew I brought it because I saw it that day, and all of a sudden I didn't have it. I only throw away papers on Friday, I collect all week long. A habit I maintain to this day, only instead of papers I am referring to everything. I'm a packrat.
The last straw was lending a pencil to someone. Just a random girl. I had multiple pencils, and I let her borrow one. She took it, looked at it, snapped it in half, and handed them back. All those little straws, including getting rained on walking to school, getting blamed for talking out of turn and getting a verbal awknowledgement from the teacher that my conduct grade was being reduced by one letter, and just the low spirits did it. I broke into tears and sobbed out loud.

Here I was, eleven years old, bawling like a baby.

Not one person there knew what was floating around in my head. Their reasoning is that I'm crying over a pencil. I'm crying over the abject humiliation, the wanton cruelty for no reason whatsoever. I was crying for being tossed around from city to city and state to state for just as little reason. My soul was in turmoil, and I dropped my head to my desk and the tears poured.

The class had a filmstrip to watch, so they gathered on the proper side of the room and I remember hearing snickering from many on the way. After what seemed like 20 minutes I was still sobbing and breathing erraticly. There was a mini-recess that the teacher reminded that nobody can stay in the room. I was barked at to get up and get out. I walked slowly, staring at the ground and I could feel that there was nobody within 9 feet of me for all around. I found a quiet corner and sat there with a stick and poked and prodded the dirt underneith a dripping faucet and made mud.
Before the 15 minutes was up, I felt three people behind me. I'm not sure if they sat or stood, and the only reason why I knew they were girls was that I heard their voices.
"There he is." / "It's so sad." (sarcastic) / "No, he's so sad. Maybe you should kiss him." / "Ack! No way!"
And the little droplets of tears from my eyes started pouring again. I wasn't sobbing, but they were just streaming out, filling my glasses again and spilling out and mixing with the mud.

Time was up and we needed to go back. Again, no exceptions. I stood. I kept my hands glued to my sides. I looked forward for the first time in maybe 40 minutes and didn't even bother to wipe my glasses. I let my eyes glaze over and kept an expressionless face for the rest of the day. Until spring break when I had to move again, I said absolutely nothing to no one. I never smiled. I never showed any expression.

I actually don't remember a damn thing else from that part forward until I moved again. A4 was before then, thankfully. But ever since, I had never cried again. Seriously. It was like a preemptive cry for the life I knew was ahead.

"How exactly is this you on the prowl?"

I ran into PL1 Friday night. Purely intentional. The same company she kept the week before. We chatted a bit about this and that. Nothing heavy, nothing too amazing, nothing worth bragging about. The way I see it it's constructing the framework from which the drywall will be erected and attached to.

Sometime during the night, we were sitting on these barstools (yes, they have a few stools at Local Arcade free to move about) without saying a word. She was spinning over and over and over again. Just rotating around, spinning in her seat, staring at the floor. And I felt something.

I'm usually not into holistics and stuff. I havn't closed my mind to that sort of thing, but I'm not really accepting it as my own. But I felt something inside her. A sorrow she hides deep inside. Something that reminded me of an inner sorrow I kept secret in me then. Something like an inner sorrow I hold secret inside me today.

She looked up with large eyes bordered with dark eyeliner and made a weak smile. I made a smile and made a comment about playing DDR while dizzy, but it was just a cover. She was broadcasting loudly. And I felt empathy for her for some reason. I don't know why, but I was filled with that feeling.

Suddenly I felt guilty. Here I am watching her, looking, paying attention with the hopes that I could sweeten her up and get, you know, in. Like prey. Like I could prey upon her to give me the sorts of things I would want. I havn't really established why I would be a good boyfriend for anyone, and all of a sudden it became apparent.

Somehow I have a feeling that I shouldn't be worried about things like that. She'll make the determination of what I'm worth to her and that'll be the only thing that'll matter in terms of me and her. The path I follow is one everyone does. There's no point to questioning it. If I question it too much, and I don't want to do it, then I'll really be stuck forever.

Things seem to be getting a little misty in my brain. I wish I knew what was going on.

Trials of Chastity

Dark Prisoner

Dark Prisoner

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Dark Prisoner

Dark Prisoner

Dark Prisoner

Dark Prisoner

Dark Prisoner

Dark Prisoner

Dark Prisoner

Dark Prisoner

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Dark Prisoner

Dark Prisoner

Dark Prisoner

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Dark Prisoner

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Dark Prisoner