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.

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.

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.

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

I am scared, afraid, panic attack prone

anxiety prone, wound up, awake

I am so awake I barely blink, so awake I feel everything and nothing

Feel sad, bitter, nervous, happy, passionate, anxious

And I am am wound

I am wound so tight I feel every nerve vibrating, each neuron firing

not at the same time, but consecutively, one by one by one by one by one

Each one passing a message to the other

In a strange inner being message of chinese telephone, 

Each communicating to the other on an individual level, with its own tone and vernacular 

Some whispering some shouting, all distorting the message in their own way

Clouded by emotion

My message gets lost and misunderstood

The last neuron shouts out a declarative sentence

Nonsensical and irrelevant

My message is lost

And my anxiety begins once more

This is how I feel every day on the hour – trying to get out a message to have it distorted and convoluted, but powerless to translate it, too late is catching the confusion to stem the tide of miscommunication.

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/

When the world know you by one word, not a pesky surname, hyphenated name or the gross middle name – you are one step ahead in terms of social evolution.

I am not a superfan who can name every song ever produced, how many chart topping singles she has churned out and how many charities she donates to. I cannot neither give you details as to where I was when (insert some significant Madonna moment here) nor can I recite her birthplace and birthdate to you.

However, I can confidently say that Madonna is the M.A.N. I recently learned how tiny she was, not much over 5 feet I beleive,  so how is it that this human, when the other billion of us are insignificant, how is this human able to make herself known, more ubiquitous than the golden arches of McDonalds? Madonna is the M.A.N.

Morphing from blonde to brunette to black….we have seen Madonna commit what to other people, not only artists but what other people would consider social suicide. Not only has she changed hair color but also music genre, religion, speech patterns and sexuality in seamless a way as to appear unapologetic.

It is easy to see why those of weaker will have deitized her. This is because Madonna is the M.A.N.

Can you have it all though? Someone in Madonna’s shoes must be sacrificing some part of normal social development in order to remain relevant for over three decades. Is Madonna able to keep a man? Maintain a normal functioning relationship? She is an evolved being, well aware of her likes and dislikes, able to articulate her needs and is able to influence her environment to bend to her will. Is such a being who is so used to self sufficiency and able to sustain its own wants and needs – is that being capable of codependency? Is Madonna a man and woman combined, the perfect marriage and expression of male and female halves in one being? Is she as unneeding of an intimate relationship with another in the same way a biodome needs no sunlight? 

For someone like her, one would think you would have to transcend sex and sexulaity and intimacy to become abstinent or otherwise a creature with a voracious sexual appetite, unable to be sated by one mere mortal man. We already know that Madonna once embraced her sexual appetite during the times when the published her coffee table sexuality book “Erotica”. But where is she now though? At 50, she has spawned 2 children, a couple husbands and about 5 generations of human beings on all the continents are familiar with who she is. Does she still have sex? Is it for pleasure, pain or play…because I doubt it is for love. For a creature as self sufficient as Madonna, it must be hard to love another being unconditionally, submit totally to love the emotion, the ultimate task to love another being above herself.  Also, it must be easy to confuse the euphoric love, the symbiotic relationship she has with her fans with pure, unconditional love. While it is easy to think that someone like Madonna has it all, she may not. No human being does. We are all striving to have it all while giving up something – all of us, no exceptions… Superevolved Madonna is still the M.A.N.

It appears that right now she may just grow a dick and suck it herself.