tis the season to be jolly

i'm not jolly. i bloody miserable and this idea that i have to be around people, smiling and faking and pretending i give a shit about life. makes me want to run and hide.

"hi how are you?"
"fine thanks, you?" and i've got to pretend to be happy and appreciative of life and happy to see them, happy to be there interacting with people.

when what i really want to say is i'm shit actually, life is one fuckn' big joke, i hate it, and i hate having to pretend i'm having a good time. and i don't give a shit how happy you are and that you can't relate to me coz i can't relate to you and i'm sick of pretending.

i'd love to be able to go up to people and when they ask me how i am i can turn around and say i'm shit actaully and i don't want to be here making small talk with you when i feel this shit.

ah.... fuck it....

daddy

who's your daddy. yes daddy. something about the word, being said to a man by a woman, or to a woman by a man. makes me cringe.
ain't noone my daddy except my daddy and that's not how i talk to him or think of him.

don't want some man to be my daddy coz i'm a grown woman, and i don't want to be his mamma. we move out of home for a reason and parents don't love children in that way ok.

sanchez

julio sanchez with his shirt off is the best episode. get to see the character behind the man, the arms, the masculinity. the acting. he breaks down crying in the end and there is something immensely appealing about a man who can act that out on screen. like wow. a tear or two is shed along with him. i want to hug him. soothe him. let him grieve in my arms.

then maybe make out with him if the feeling is mutual when he's recovered.

the sleazy doctor

i was 16 at the time. really sick with tonsillitis. had to force myself to go to the doctors, walk there 20mins one way. in my condition it took way longer. get there, see the doctor. he takes my temp, does the stick on the tongue thing, checks my ears and my chest. instead of putting the stethoscope on my back he puts it on my chest. i didn't have a bra on. i was too sick to do anything but throw on some baggy clothes and go. i lift my top part way, like above my navel and he tells me to lift it higher. i move it up about an inch or two. i see him try to bob his head low to look up, realise he can't do it without being obvious. part of me is thinking he's a doctor he's seen it all before. that's what they always tell us. so it's no baggy if he did get a look. anther part of me is thinking i hope he can't see my boobs. off i go home with a prescription for penicillin. ages later some mothers in my neighbourhood tell me he was removed from the surgery for inappropriate behavior towards female patients. docs like him make me sick. sleazy bastard.

riding to school with the cool boy

allan was the cool boy at school, the most popular boy in our year 9 class, popular in general. everyone liked him. the tall dark and handsome type. he lived across the road from me. we'd known each other since we were 8. we were mates, just mates, practically like brother and sister we'd known each other for that long.

i use to go over to his house and do times tables with him and eat his mum's home made donuts. his little sister was my best friend. when girls at school found out allan lived across the road from me they'd come over to visit and hang out the front hoping to catch a glimpse of him. he always stayed inside.

in class he and i joked about the 'thud' in the middle of the night. his flopping his chop out to go to the toilet. it became our private joke. me talking about how it was so long i'd ran it over on my way in to my house. him saying he needed a hose reel to reel it back into his pants.

one morning leaving for school he's out the front. pulls me up and asks me for a lift. i laugh because there's no way i can give him a lift. i'm not strong enough to dink him. so allan says he'll dink me all the way to school. no problem. and off we go.

i'm sitting on the handle bars, him doing all the work. i could hear him puffing in my ear, me reveling in his stamina and strength. super impressed with how cool and strong the opposite sex is. rock up to school like that and of course we're the talk of the town for a day.

birthday bonk

control gives you wings

she was playing games. she knew it, she acknowledged it. she knew it was necessary. for a long time she'd been having conversations about how intimacy with him was all one sided. all about him and what he was going to get out of it. rarely about her needs, her wants, her desires. no matter how often the conversation. it was a dead end situation, one that needed some twist on getting a resolution. previously she'd say it's not good enough, you need to stop trying for 4th base when by-passing 1, 2 and 3. then a situation like this would arise, special occasion, a couple of drinks, he'd think he's in like flynn. he'd be thinking sex is on the cards whether he puts in the work or not coz it's his birthday. he wouldn't put in the work. her organism and turn on would be up to her. he'd not play a part in it, no matter how often the conversation. no matter how many times she held back until he picked up his game, stating that she wouldn't put up with it, give in or give him what he wanted. not this time. this time was different and the occasion and drinks would not make her bow down. putting on a sexy outfit she grabbed the oil, dripped it onto her hand and touched herself to climax. he tried to touch and participate and she refused his advances. watch and learn she advised. he was turned on and a bit miffed at the same time. this wasn't what he wanted. he wanted in. after she drips oil on his erection and strokes him with her hand. at first he's ok until he realizes he's not 'in' and won't be 'in'. silently she grins to herself knowing that this is not what he wants, also knowing he doesn't give her what she wants, no matter how often the conversation (and he refuses to acknowledge it), so too bad. stiff shit. deal with it buddy. and watch and learn!

happy happy joy :(

i wish i was like other people. i wish i enjoyed life, felt happy, having a good ol' time existing. i see people around me, happy, smiling, loving life. glad to be alive. blabbering on about how grand their life is, how good their man is, their job, their family and friends blah blah blah.

i want to tell them to shove it!

i see pictures of people in their happy worlds doing this, doing that. traveling here, traveling there. making money, losing weight, or not caring if they don't lose any weight. care free. not a problem in the world.

then there's me. i don't work the way they do. i see shit every where. pollar bear numbers declining. elephants and rhinos being hunted for horns. kids abused. people treated like objects. men who are slaves to money. people fighting over religion.

not to mention my personal life which is a schmozzle. a lover who tells me crap things about myself, i.e. you don't dress sexy enough, i thought you were jealous of that girl because she's prettier than you .. and i don't know how i'm supposed to move on from shit like that.

aside from the fact that i feel really sad a lot lately and don't need that added extra on top.

been waiting for this mood to pass and it's still here haunting me. clinging on and on. all the while pretending i'm ok because that's what people want to see. having to hide my true feelings because noone wants to be around miss sad sack.

not sure the world is made for people like me...