What do I write?
I write anything which is a reflection of my mind state at the time. Currently my mind is filled with Twilight, True Blood, Dexter, my jack being shot and the movie precious… all dark and morbid…
Why do I write?
Just as Michael Jackson considered his backup dancers to be extensions of his being, extensions of the man himself – not coming as individual beings but more an offering of their physicality towards being melted down to to become something else entirely – each individual being deconstructed just to be built back up to be molded to form a part of a new creative whole – just so my words are like tentacles – each word, each sentence, each thought coming and crawling in from different sources for my brain to mold and mash to become part of a new entity – a new creative whole.
I must write to live and I live to write.
Sanpixee The Alien: Diving In
What should I be doing? What should I be doing? Planning? Putting things together? Piecing together event projects like pieces of a lego puzzle. Finding the people who can do each piece – placing here and there to become who they want to become.
At what point do you realize that you are no longer interested in what you have been doing – and that it may be time to move on – that God will keep you afloat and that the time is ripe to dive in. That maybe you should thank those that have been with you for the past couple of years for their love and support and concentrate on doing whatever it is brings out the best in you.
What should I be doing?
I should be given $10,000 to plan a wonderful showcase of up and coming artists and have a faabulous mentor to guide me in the process. That is what I should be doing.
I should be writing a book, not a novel, but a book and linking it to who I am while making it relevant for so many.
What am I good at doing? Being inviting, being warm and writing – it is time to do what I should be doing. It is time to dive in.
Sanpixee The Alien: Energy
The main difference I see between only children and children who grew up with siblings is an extreme one. The concept of giving versus the concept of sharing. An only child would rather give than share, often not finding the merit in sharing and rather than confound oneself with how much is deemed acceptable to “share” – we would rather “give” thinking that “giving” would compensate for “sharing”. The world sees this as mean.
Only children do not find “sharing” rewarding – we prefer to think of the world in ‘yours vs. mine’ terms instead of the more socially acceptable ‘ours.’ In all my years, it is just in this past week that I had the most epiphanous epiphany of all epipanies ever epiphanied.
Energy cannot neither be created nor destroyed, only transferred from one entity to another. Only children locked in their world of ‘giving’ rather than ’sharing’ are at a disadvantage. Energy transfer only occurs in ‘giving’ or being ‘given to’. By just attaining for ourselves things which are ‘mine’ in order to preempt ever having to ask someone for what is ‘theirs’ (i.e. yours), hence trying to prevent ever having to be asked for what is ‘mine’. Only children hoard energy i.e. are bred to be selfish.
In hoarding energy, only children often turn down accepting from others, hence ‘being given to’ but when asked would rather ‘give’ wholly than ’share’. Sharing would have given the opportunity for the only child to take in some energy from another human, but in refusing it and giving they unknowingly give away some energy.
The point is they allow their energy level to be depleted as they are not allowing themselves to take in energy from other people, to be ‘given to’.
The concept of giving vs. the concept of sharing.
Sanpixee The Alien: Numb
Please wake my brain up.
Please wake my brain up.
I am so numb right now, no home, no bonds, no feeling.
My main faith is in the tactile. My faith is in caresses, these keys I feel between my fingertips.
My faith lays in the transient, the illusion of time, the illusion of like, the illusion of love.
My faith lays in unconditional love, and that love is in 5 people.
And if God is unconditional love then I know God and I feel him and I know the bliss of a connection
Of a powerful support, an encapsulation that keeps me suspended when I would otherwise collapse.
So this new numb lay in the yearning for part of this transience to remain fixed
To debunk my own theory that only unconditional love is permanent
And that other love loyalty and support can coexist alongside the pillars and standards of unconditional love in my life.
Until then, I’ll remain numb… I guess.
Sanpixee The Alien: Oooo Jai Act IV
Read Act I here:
http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2009/02/25/sanpixee-the-alien-oooo-jai-act-1/
Read Act II here:
http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2009/02/27/sanpixee-the-alien-oooo-jai-pt-ii
Read Act III here:
http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2009/04/26/sanpixee-the-alien-oooo-jai-act-iii/
ACT IV
He was ready and after the immense, patient and meticulously orchestrated pleasure he had given me I was ready to give him whatever was required of me. I knew better not to tease him. My man had done a good job, deserved a gold star and so it took me only a moment to figure out how to build towards driving him into an ecstasy coma.
I started with the obvious. I fixed my posture so that my two eyes were directly facing his third eye. His third appeared to be looking at me lazily balanced at the summit of its long hard shaft which lay on a delicate, secure foundation of twin testicles. I blinked my eyes at his third eye wondering how to make love to it on the sly. I heard my baby moan and what started out as a short moan ended in sputtering gasps. The third eye was dancing back and forth between my tonsils now as I took it all – third eye, shaft and testicular base into my mouth.
I deep throated him just like how I saw Gina Dean do it on her videos. I relaxed my throat, opened my jaw and guided the third eye down the pink vascular tunnel, keeping all – the eye, shaft and testicular base clear of my teeth.
It was in this way my mouth, tongue, tonsils and oesophagus welcomed my Jai, smoothly and serenely, calmly massaging his appendages utilizing circular motions, back and forth, alternatiing pleasure with more pleasure. I loved it and he loved it.
His hands slowly reached up from caressing my shoulders and I started a bit when I felt his grip tighten at the back of my head.
Click here for Act V : )
Sanpixee the Alien: Oooo Jai Act. III
Read Act I here:
http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2009/02/25/sanpixee-the-alien-oooo-jai-act-1/
Read Act II here:
http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2009/02/27/sanpixee-the-alien-oooo-jai-pt-ii
ACT III
My juices mingled with his to create for me an epicenter of pleasure, which was not my pleasure to enjoy alone. I mouth was now open now still in the same posiition and shape I had used to mutter my last word “…these”. With each stroke of his tongue millions of tiny fingers were born, each radiating from the tip of his tongue to massage every cell of my body into total submission until each of them reached my brain and my mind gradually erasing each and every thought, goal, ambition, drive, every to-do list, eveything with an agenda. I was now mush, useless mush – a writhing, wide-mouth opening ball of mush.
I managed to get one eye open and saw him smiling as we worked dutifully between my legs. “You okay baby?” he cooed softly as he introduced his index finger to my ooooooooohhhhhhh… this man was clearly going to kill me. Each time we enjoyed each other like this it was so basic, so instinctual, so primal that I feared in our beastlike state that one of us would lose control altogether in this pleasure-pain torment to annihilate the other’s existence.
I looked down at my man and his work, watching the sun’s rays highlighting his disappearing and reappearing finger – which now became plural. While doing this he made his other hand, so warm and gorgeous, still with his watch around his wrist, his hand travelled up my belly, making pit stops along the way to play with my hip bone and navel. I felt the alernating warmth of his skin and the coolness of the metal of his watch. Without looking up his watch hand found my breasts and cupped them, massaging them vigorously and playing with the nipples. I knew he was having way too much fun to untie me anytime soon.
He never made me cum, just took me there, right to the tip, the cusp, the rim the summit, then stopped. This was his cycle and his style. This exquisite torture was his way of expressing his love for me. And when he straightened up and bent down to kiss my nose, that his his way of saying he was hard and throbbing now and that playtime was over.
Click here for Act IV : )
http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2009/04/26/sanpixee-the-alien-oooo-jai-act-iv/
Space
I need my space
I need my love
I need and constructive way to express and accept love at the same time I express my need my space
Space, Space like the distance between Hi, I’m home and Dinner is Ready
Space between waking up and going down into the subway
Space between boarding a plane and carrying on a conversation
Space between work and friends
Space is love to me, to give me my space is to love me
To come into my space is to punish me
To question my space is to upset me.
I like my space but I love you
My space is my biggest compromise.
Time in my space is my love to you.
My Space and My Love are intertwined
Truths: Attempt #3
I am afraid of being questioned. I feel threatened and defensive because I do not mind people not explaining themselves to me and I leave them alone so I like to be left alone but not in the cranky hermit way but more in the understanding, you need your space kind of way.
Truths: Attempt #2
What am I afraid of?
I am afraid of sharing my life – of having someone experience the cranky morning person the person who likes to sleep in on Saturday mornings, the reality show loving, eat late at night loving, internet blogging person who may not have matching underwear and who tends to curse when pissed and likes to be held sometimes with minimum talking and likes to be talked to sometimes with minimum hugging who likes to be watched but not peeped at who does not mind being looked at but hates being stared at and whose body is sometimes work hard from disciplined gym workouts and whose body can sometimes be soft and meaty from slacking off sometimes I look really hot and put together and like a knockout and sometimes i go out like out at night with jeans and flats and my glasses on and i am one of those women who has still not really found out what really attracts guys when she is wearing what but i know what makes me look cute and i am afraid of those who would not get along with my friends and will say something bad about my friends and those that my family may not like or who may say something bad about my family then i will have to defend my family from the loose disrespectful tongue of this person i may really really be nervous about having my beliefs questioned of having a human who i have not grown up with challenge all that i have worked so long and hard to figure out what i believe.
