23nd October 2011

23rd October 2011. I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamt that mr pornstar himself called and ask if i would like to sleep over at his place. He had this really husky, overly masculine (think a really manly lady gaga, if that's even possible) voice that totally threw me off guard, and left me panting in my dream. And if i were to be remotely honest here, i was slightly turned on by it. Something about that demanding tone in his voice managed to stirred up fire within me. It wasn't enough to make me break-dance (which i normally do if i'm overly strung up), but it did shake me awake, sweating and dizzy. Gawd, what is it with him that always makes me go all stupid and retarded? Well, according to sister bliss, its definitely not his dance moves. He dances like a robot on steroid; repetitive and beatless. I must agree though, she has a point. The boy can't dance for peanuts. There was once when we were in a club and we bump into him on the dance floor, he was in this dance/trance moment that totally scared the devil out of us. Nevertheless, i did when home with him that night and had sex. And i must admit, out of the many guys that i have been with (two to be exact), he was probably the best i've ever had. The other two were over achievers that just went for it as if their life depends on it. He just couldn't give a rat ass about achieving anything besides the pure pleasure of sex itself. Ohkay, now this is really turning my post into something mills and boons would write. Gawd, do you guys remember mills and boons with their always-topless italian man and scantly dressed sluts on the cover? I used to steal my mum's copy and hide behind the door reading it. It was like playboy on words. And for a thirteen-year-old boy leaving in a rural beachfront town, it was a big deal. Even bigger than when the local band comes to town to shoot their music video where thousand of his friends ditch school and try to catch a glimpse of the band, he was tuck nicely at the back of the library with a bigger than life chemistry textbook reading away. Not the textbook but his mum's copy of mills and boons placed on top of it, hidden from everyone else but he and his daydream.

Wow. The clouds outside the window are like china. Vast, and endless into the horizon. Ohh. I'm on a plane again, this time back to my concrete city. My work in the mainland is done and i'm well on my way back to enjoy whatever sunday i have left. Hmm. This trip has been rather therapeutic. I get to spend a day by myself, wandering in the city, finishing up errands and having meals alone. It does sound sad as i type, but the truth was it was kinda liberating to say the least. I was once able to be me in a foreign environment without the constant need to make sure everyone and everything is well taken care of. I didn't have this feeling when i was traveling alone in busan or goldcoast. I guess i had grown up a little over the course of this year, and i'm finally comfortable to be in my own company. I no longer am constantly on the edge. I have learned to chill, like how macro always asks me to. Ahh, marco again. He did leave a big scar in me that will take another greater person to erase it away. How do i even explain marco? I dunno know. I'll think about it the next time i blog a post. Now, please excuse me while i stare out of the window into the fluffy baby blue clouds, as i bath in the warm of a summer sun daydreaming (again) about absolutely nothing at all. Ahhh..