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.

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 : )

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/

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

Read Act I here:

 http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2009/02/25/sanpixee-the-alien-oooo-jai-act-1/

ACT II

So here came my god. He looked into my eyes and one corner of his mouth curved into a smile. In careful measured movements, he got rid of the tie, unbuttoned his shirt and disposed of his shoes and his socks. Then he leaned sideways against the wall keeping his body facing me. I could no longer see his eyes now as his face was not cast in shadow. He casually reached behind him and picked out a stick of gum from the stack of candy we had stored in the glass bowl on the narrow table by the entry way – a welcoming gesture for guests to our home.  

Jai was such a joker. He stayed there chewing and smiling while I lay in my position refusing to relinquish my sexiness which was beginning to feel more and more ridiculous the longer the chair had my body quivering in such a provocative position.

Jai got rid of the gum and had now popped a pink Starburst square into his mouth. My breath was very hot and moist against my gag and I was anxious to end this. “Haaaaaappy Tuuuuuuueesday Baybeeeeeeeeee!” my vibrating alto voice sang out to him sounding like I was talking into a fan. “Mmmhmmm…” was all he said. He looked around, “Baby, looks like we’ve been robbed! Look at how they left you all tied up. I should call the police right now!” He faked a look of concern as he toolk his cell phone from out his pocket and begin to fake dial. I was tired of this game now and my hands were beginning to numb. I looked up at my hands and wiggled them. “Bayybeee…” I started to whine, ” Stooop …. could you at least come loosen these…”

To this day, only God could let me know what the rest of that sentence was.

I felt his breath in my pussy. Then came the tongue. Oh, that luxurious tongue now cool from the minty gum he had chewed and so moist from all the jaw work he had dedicated to enjoying his candy. My juices mingled with his to create for me an epicenter of pleasure, which was …

Read Act I here

 http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2009/02/25/sanpixee-the-alien-oooo-jai-act-1/

Read Act III here

http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2009/04/26/sanpixee-the-alien-oooo-jai-act-iii/

I had tied myself to the chair. Actually it was not a chair according to Jai, he referred to it as the Recliner SKB1500- sleek to the touch, easy to operate, one button for up, one button for down, one for warm, one for cool, one button for vibbbrrrraaaaatttttteeeee.

So anyways, I had tied myself to the chair, inhaling, exhaling as I made the sailor knots as I did back in my Girl Scout Days – looping and tightening, over and under, tug, tug…ouch…too tight…a little looser… okay done.

And I tied myself to the chair.

So that when he came through the front door with today’s mail, loosened tie, took off his glasses and looked up, he would see me his wife in his favourite chair, his ESPN chair, His SportsCenter chair, His CNN chair, His Beer+Wings+Monday Night Football Chair.

I had moved it from its spot in front of the plasma and had dragged it across our plush living room carpet, making a light beige trail in the carpet which betrayed the chair’s maiden voyage across the floor. It was heavy but I was more focused than it was heavy. Mid tugging one of my breasts had escaped my garment. I glanced down at, debated for all of one second before deciding my tug mission took precedence. I had couple more inches to go to get the chair in place. Then it was done and I slipped out of my slip, tossed it under a cushion then stood upright to look at the chair. The chair’s black leather so beautifully enveloped by the sharp distinct lines of light coming through the blinds which covered the sliding glass door.

The chair, the Recliner SKB1500 would be my throne tonight.

So here I was in it and tied to it by sailor knots. I had pressed buttons to adjust the back until my butt sank lovingly into the milky smooth textured leather. I had pulled my blue satin scarf over my mouth, which made me have to reluctantly nix the red lipstick idea. I had on my strappy heels – not the black ones but the red Jimmy Choos. This was my attire for the evening and as the doorknob turned all I could see were my crested breasts, now pointy nipples and the tops of my knees. I squirmed and shifted, hitting the viiibrraaatteee button by accident and left the chair to do its jiggle work. I had zero time left. All I could see was the “Home Sweet Home” plaque above the door, as my view was obstructed by my position. Obviously I had to adjust and by the time the door was open my legs were open too and I was staring through my legs at my husband and he had me, all of me in full view.

Naked, vibrating, tied up,  strappy heels, his favorite chair, silent and gagged, with afternoon sunshine dancing down my skin making my tummy ring glisten as well as giving all that was moist that cozy sparkle.

Click here for Act II:

http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2009/02/27/sanpixee-the-alien-oooo-jai-pt-ii/

See more posts like this one at:

www.sanpixee.wordpress.com

Love and Respect

Has your man ever washed your hair, shaved your legs or rubbed your feet? Has he ever massaged you back, cooked for you or washed the dishes after you have cooked? Has he ever noticed how drained you are, directs you to the couch, shuts off the light and rubs your head until you fall asleep with your head in his lap. Has he ever carried your tired body to the bathtub, draws you a bath and washes your body as if it were a prized diamond, as if it were the mustang he had saved up for 5 summers to buy as a teenager?

Does your man ever wordlessly guide you to walk on the inside away from the traffic when you both walk on the street? Is he able to tell you that you look like crap or an outfit combo does not work without offending you? Can you both appreciate how other women look without you feeling jealous or threatened? Does he know not to speak to you for a while after you get home from work and to just let you be?

For the women who think that these men do not exist o ye of little faith. I have found these men, and been able to benefit from their fruits. They are in fact all around. Women have been brainwashed into seeking the prepackaged man, the fairy tale propagated by Disney movies and the robot-women manufactured in the 1950’s. But oh boy, when you find a man like this … it is impossible to go back to mediocrity, unless you are passing time of course.

It is beautiful to find the man who inspires you to cook when you don’t feel like cooking, to dress-up when you usually don’t… the man who treats you like treasure without being too clingy or idolizing you. The man who acknowledges your flaws and faults but accepts the whole you as a package bundle.

This is the man who will get mad at you, but come back – who will show his love in his language. This is the man you will catch watching you – not leering – but watching, studying… who makes you blush just by saying your name. The man where you can both be in a room together, silent but comfortable – intimate.

Man-pampering is one of life’s greatest joys, to have your beauty – inner and outer beauty acknowedged with touch, caresses, silence and conversation – when you are touched out of an intermingling of admiration and lust. When his eyes give you a full body massage before his hands touch your skin – When you can be at work and still smell him in your hair. Mmmmmmm…..

See more posts like this one at:

www.sanpixee.wordpress.com

Try this one and see how you feel:

http://sanpixee.wordpress.com/2008/12/19/sanpixee-the-alien-the-fascinating-male-species/

See more posts like this one:

www.sanpixee.wordpress.com

Remember those walls I built

Well baby they’re tumbling down

They didnt even put up a fight

They didnt even make a sound…

There are no apologies for feelings… as there is no control over feelings unless Mr. Miyagi is your teacher. Although I could quote Confucious or one of his friends, there is nothing more raw, more honest and more applicable than this song I heard yesterday….

The risk that I’m taking

I’m never gonna shut you out…

Although the male species never stop fascinating me and holding my attention – my attitude towards them is one of two extremes. Either I really love them because of their physicality or I am completely indifferent towards them as a species. In my self therapy sessions I have found this gnawing thought: that I am not really capable of feeling sympathy, empathy or compassion towards men because within myself I do not beleive that men have emotions.  

This is not bragging or arrogance but more like an admission, a confession, the unmasking of a fatal thought process.

In fact I think I more view males as transient “here-today-gone-tomorrow” beings, good to hang out with, have a bunch of laughs with but who will inexplicably leave my life as a result of distance, time or one of us getting into a relationship. Though I have male friends since young days, only one or two I would say are my bonafide hardcore friends. My father is very present in my life but has only recently become emotionally available which has led me to further self-diagnosis – I feel the need to take aloofness and emotional distance from men as signs of “something-to-work-on”, “something-to-stick-around-for” as this is a person who may actually be screaming on the inside for love, someone who may have missed formative years of social development and emotional regulation – someone who needs my patience and non-nagging. Chris Rock in his latest comedy special states that the best phrase a woman can hear from a man is “I ain’t going nowhere.” I have heard this once.

Remember those walls I built… 

If I could count the many men who have told me that they could never know what I was thinking. Many times I wanted so bad to tell them, but I was so unpracticed and so nervous that it would come out like a pile of gibberish. Pen and paper being my most effective means of communication, which 17 year old boy could you imagine accepting 5 pages of prose with quotes from obscure writers and weird trivia as a profession of like for him? Not anyone I knew. And so after each inevitable transient being, I locked my main means of communication farther and farther away from the males, thereby distancing myself into oblivion, and right now I see them as penises and nice smells who I pray do not overstay their welcome.

Well baby they’re tumbling down…

The rawness of this song and the accompanying video completely took me off guard, until I nearly started crying. The intense intimacy of this video was so real and no-one was half naked, no jiggling bottoms up and down, no fancy dance number but it captured intimacy in its purest form. For 3 minutes and 44 seconds I sat with my jaw open, as living a life saturated with sex and sexuality everywhere from menus, radio and television advertisements, pure adult human connection portrayed by the media is rare. In fact, the key to why I am such a fan of this video is that there was no cheap intimacy indicators – no kissing, no half-nakedness in bed, no ecstatic wide-open mouths AND I LOVED IT.

There are many of us who are oversexed and underloved, those of us who need reminders of intimacy, those of who have screwed for like, screwed for love, screwed for pleasure and are just over it. I fact this video comes on the heels of when I have been considering going celibate as sex has brought nothing but confusion into my life for the past year, sometimes a fake joy, but more stupid decisions than one person needs. 

And here comes Beyonce, with her blue-eyed man looking at her like she is a crown jewel, reaching for her while he is asleep. I want that, need that and deserve that… I need to untwist my brain to re-understand my understanding of the males. Thanks to whoever is responsible for the concept , creation, editing, cinematography and casting of this video.

Here is the link:

I could start by saying Have you ever been…? or Has it ever happened that..? or Do you know the feeling of…?

It would be redundant thing, a reach for a connection, for empathy, for someone else to read this and nod their head mentally… I know in my head that my experience is not unique. What I hope is that someone will teach me how to grieve…

It has been one year and still I have not grieved properly for a brutal ending to a two year on and off relationship… the most intense human connection I had ever experienced… one where I stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped answering the phone and started operating on autopilot. A relationship where I shared everything, all walls were down, all chains removed. A relationship where I opened up my personal space, my refrigerator and my wallet and my bed… one where I cooked and took care of his younger siblings one where I opened up my heart to care for people he cared for, people I didn’t care to care for…

It has been one year and I beleive I am fine but I am not sure how fine I am as I have not seen him since we have broken up, seen him in his new lifestyle, his new woman, his new friends. I am an expert at being fine, at being busy enough to not think about it and having enough friends to be able to totally ignore the situation.

I am a fool.

Only a fool thinks that they are fine when they have not grieved over a break-up. This was a relationship that I was willing to go the distance for, even if it was long distance I was ready, even if it meant going months for not seeing him, even if it meant putting my money towards a travel fund I would do it. If it meant getting along with his family I knew tolerated me because of him. 

It was an uneven a match if there ever was one. 

And I the hopeful optimist thought that if he loved me and I loved him then that was enough…that was enough for a decision.

I need to grieve for this one, adequately and totally. If someone knows, teach me how to slow down to grieve…

The Man from Mars is on my mind,

The Man from Mars with beautiful hair, beautiful mouth and a beautiful beautiful.

As complicated as he is, he is still a man, nothing complicated there. He is complicated as he complicates me, turns what should be one sentence into a convoluted paragraph, my inner monologue into an entire play. Makes me second guess my guesses, question my questions and has drained me of all declarative statements. I hate this fucker with a passion, and no I am not talking about his beautiful mouth which I adore, his beautiful smile and eyes or even his beautiful beautiful. I speak of the way he drains me of my 20+ years of expensive first world education, and the many self affirmations drilled into my being by Ms. Angelou, Ms. Walker and Ms. Winfrey.

He watches me walk like a predator and I come to him willing like prey, welcoming sweet death as he kisses my shoulders, cups my breasts and glides into me in one seamless motion. The Man from Mars is the man I hate, the man I hate because I know I must run now to save my life to save all I am, to save my eloquence and my poise, to maintain the barbed fences which guard my core. And here I must stop writing to wait…as he circles me again, watching, smiling, silently laughing, knowing I am definitely his to kill again and again and again…