when asked the question if you could change anything about yourself what would it be, most people say i would change nothing. i like who i am. its me. and everytime i think to myself why must they lie. the same goes for the question, is there anything in your life you regret. saying no, is a typical answer. yet its usually a lie.
i fall victim to this. we all have at one point in our life. i do it everyday. everyday i wake up and tell myself i'm okay. and for the most part i am, but there are those moments where life is just meaningless. the sun isn't as bright as it usually is. and i just feel blank. empty of emotions with one lingering thought in my head.
if i could change anything about myself or about my life i wouldn't. but truthfully speaking i would change a lot. i would change the fact that i was molested as a child. i would change the fact that i didn't have a father growing up. i would change the fact that i will never be truly honest open with anyone, because they're are just some things i'm afraid to let people i care about know. i would change the fact that i love to easily. i would change the fact that i'm honestly lost in this world, and don't know what i want. i sit and watch television shows and movies where the main character's biggest proble is the fact that his/her family has "a plan" for them. they usually hate this plan and want nothing to do with it, but i envy them. i wish someone had my entire life planned out for me. because for the last nineteen years i've lived a life full of impulses. some good and some bad.
do i regret anything i've done in my life. probably not, but if i did i'd regret everytime i gave into that impulse to drop to me knees. to open my mouth. or to spread my legs.
life sucks sometimes, but you just have to deal with it.
my father told me something once. i was six years old and was crying. he saw the tears roll down my face and started screaming at me as he forcibly took his t-shirt that i was wearing. "real men don't cry J. aint no son of mine gone be a pussy and cry. take my damn shirt off. you aint no marine man, take my damn shirt off boy. you betta learn how to deal with shit cause it aint gone get no better. and aint no son of mine gone run around here and cry. you betta deal with this shit."
Showing posts with label issues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label issues. Show all posts
17 July 2009
302
currently listening to Smashing Pumpkins
05 June 2009
i need some healthy suggestions on adult oriented email addresses. whenever i apply for a job position i use my UGA email account for one of two reasons.
- its basically my name
- its a University of Georgia email and i assume that could possibly help me get a job, because people would assume i'm intelligent and hard working
but at the moment my email address is lyfe255754@gmail.com and i don't see anyone taking me serious with that. i won't even give my friends this email because i'm embarassed by it. so for all the adults out there i need a suggestion for an email, because as of july 1, i won't be able to use my UGA email anymore.
currently listening to Death of the Auto Tune by Jay-Z
Posted by J at 8:52 PM 2 comments
07 March 2009
issues:fascination with sex
I’m pretty bored right now so here’s another post. I’m also a little sad, but it has nothing to do with anything I’m about to write. Plus if I told you guys why I’m sad you’d probably laugh and call me dumb. So I’ll keep it to myself. I guess this is bye x!.
But yea, I have this weird fascination with sex. Its always been present in my life and sometime it was my sole driving force. At 7 I can remember going into my cousin’s room with another boy that my grandmother babysat. I don’t think we knew what we were doing, but it was fun. We just use to grind and dry hump and even then, I was the bottom.
At age 8 I watched my first porno. It was me, my older brother, and his friend. It was weird sitting there watching this lady get fucked. The guy’s dick was huge and some of the things they did were just crazy. I couldn’t watch the whole thing. Half way through I started getting sick. Start smelling something and my stomach began hurting. I don’t know why, but I did. I left out the room and I felt better. That was my first and last time watching a porno for a long time, but I always searched for that movie, but I still haven’t found it to this day.
At 9 I remember having two “situations” with guys. One was at summer camp. We had just gotten back from swimming so we only had on trunks. Somehow this guy dared me to lick his nipple, and being one to never back down from a double dog dare, I said okay. We went into the bathroom, got in the handicap stall, and I did more than just lick a nipple. I still don’t know if we knew what was going on, but that didn’t stop us. We stayed in there for a good twenty minutes, and never spoke to each other again.
Later that year I remember being at home alone with my cousin, and that same friend that I watched my first porno with. Somehow one of them decided it would be fun to play truth or dare. I was dared to kissed the friend’s but, and at first I objected even though I wanted to. But he pulled down his pants, bent over, and told me to just do it. I did, they both laughed and left out the room.
Later that same night when we were all getting ready for bed and were just in our boxers and t-shirts I remember him coming up behind me, and simulating sex. He grabbed me, and started humping my ass. I tried to get out of it, but I was enjoying the feeling of his big dick on my ass through our boxers. It felt nice, but when I felt my dick growing I tried my hardest to get out or risked being caught.
But the biggest exploration came when I was in middle school. I know I’ve said that my first sexual experience was with A. Technically that’s true, but I came very close with another friend on more than one occasion.
It started off as us just jerking off together and grew into more. We would have these “sleepovers” with each other, but we didn’t do too much sleeping. We would grope and play with each other under the sheets. I can remember all the times when he would climb on top of me, put my legs on his shoulders, and start grinding into my ass. It felt so good to just lay there, look into his eyes, and just listen to the words he would say to me, and then one night he asked if I wanted him to fuck me.
“Why not,” I told him. We had already given each other blow jobs, we jerked off together, so why not find out what all this sex was about. We took off each others’ clothes, he spit on his dick, and I spit on my ass. I climbed on top of him and tried to stick it in. No go, but that didn’t matter. It felt nice to feel a dick actually on the crack of my ass. I started going up and down and it felt so good. We did this for about twenty minutes, and then I began having this weird tingling sensation.
I jumped up, ran to the bathroom cause I thought I had to pee, but when I tried it went everywhere. And in that moment I knew I was in puberty, and later that week I finally discovered the joys of masturbation. So from that point on all our “sleepovers” always ended with me cumming all over his chest. The only bad thing is, he didn’t start cumming until right before he moved away in the eighth grade. I only tasted his cum twice. The first time it was the most magical thing I had ever tasted and I swallowed every drop The second, I just wanted to spit it up. Twice in one night, maybe it was just to much for me, but I was glad it happened.
After he left is when I got with K. At 14 me and A started fucking, and at 16 so did me and K. By 18 I had had five or six sexual partners. Ooh wait, that’s a lie and I’m too embarrassed to put the real numbers, but there was a couple three ways so that’s why its higher than five. I was truly a cum slut in the making and college would only make it worse.
When I got to college I’ll admit I got a little wild. I tried some things I never thought I would and had sex in places I wouldn’t under any other circumstances, but I was going through some things and sex was my way of coping. Sex gave me a way to escape all my problems and to just live and have fun at the time. Me and K had hit another rough patch and she almost killed herself. I was finally away from home and I was truly on my own. College was a new beast that high school had not prepared me for, so I resorted to what I was comfortable in. To what I knew I was good at, and that was sex.
But at 19 I’m doing better. I know sex is not the answer to all my problems, its actually one of the problems. But I’m doing good, on occasion I may slip back into that mind frame but it doesn’t last forever. I’m okay with not having sex, and jerking does the job the same and there isn’t any guilt left afterwards.
Sorry for the post being so long, but I was bored and a little sad. But now I’m hungry. Pizza anyone?
But yea, I have this weird fascination with sex. Its always been present in my life and sometime it was my sole driving force. At 7 I can remember going into my cousin’s room with another boy that my grandmother babysat. I don’t think we knew what we were doing, but it was fun. We just use to grind and dry hump and even then, I was the bottom.
At age 8 I watched my first porno. It was me, my older brother, and his friend. It was weird sitting there watching this lady get fucked. The guy’s dick was huge and some of the things they did were just crazy. I couldn’t watch the whole thing. Half way through I started getting sick. Start smelling something and my stomach began hurting. I don’t know why, but I did. I left out the room and I felt better. That was my first and last time watching a porno for a long time, but I always searched for that movie, but I still haven’t found it to this day.
At 9 I remember having two “situations” with guys. One was at summer camp. We had just gotten back from swimming so we only had on trunks. Somehow this guy dared me to lick his nipple, and being one to never back down from a double dog dare, I said okay. We went into the bathroom, got in the handicap stall, and I did more than just lick a nipple. I still don’t know if we knew what was going on, but that didn’t stop us. We stayed in there for a good twenty minutes, and never spoke to each other again.
Later that year I remember being at home alone with my cousin, and that same friend that I watched my first porno with. Somehow one of them decided it would be fun to play truth or dare. I was dared to kissed the friend’s but, and at first I objected even though I wanted to. But he pulled down his pants, bent over, and told me to just do it. I did, they both laughed and left out the room.
Later that same night when we were all getting ready for bed and were just in our boxers and t-shirts I remember him coming up behind me, and simulating sex. He grabbed me, and started humping my ass. I tried to get out of it, but I was enjoying the feeling of his big dick on my ass through our boxers. It felt nice, but when I felt my dick growing I tried my hardest to get out or risked being caught.
But the biggest exploration came when I was in middle school. I know I’ve said that my first sexual experience was with A. Technically that’s true, but I came very close with another friend on more than one occasion.
It started off as us just jerking off together and grew into more. We would have these “sleepovers” with each other, but we didn’t do too much sleeping. We would grope and play with each other under the sheets. I can remember all the times when he would climb on top of me, put my legs on his shoulders, and start grinding into my ass. It felt so good to just lay there, look into his eyes, and just listen to the words he would say to me, and then one night he asked if I wanted him to fuck me.
“Why not,” I told him. We had already given each other blow jobs, we jerked off together, so why not find out what all this sex was about. We took off each others’ clothes, he spit on his dick, and I spit on my ass. I climbed on top of him and tried to stick it in. No go, but that didn’t matter. It felt nice to feel a dick actually on the crack of my ass. I started going up and down and it felt so good. We did this for about twenty minutes, and then I began having this weird tingling sensation.
I jumped up, ran to the bathroom cause I thought I had to pee, but when I tried it went everywhere. And in that moment I knew I was in puberty, and later that week I finally discovered the joys of masturbation. So from that point on all our “sleepovers” always ended with me cumming all over his chest. The only bad thing is, he didn’t start cumming until right before he moved away in the eighth grade. I only tasted his cum twice. The first time it was the most magical thing I had ever tasted and I swallowed every drop The second, I just wanted to spit it up. Twice in one night, maybe it was just to much for me, but I was glad it happened.
After he left is when I got with K. At 14 me and A started fucking, and at 16 so did me and K. By 18 I had had five or six sexual partners. Ooh wait, that’s a lie and I’m too embarrassed to put the real numbers, but there was a couple three ways so that’s why its higher than five. I was truly a cum slut in the making and college would only make it worse.
When I got to college I’ll admit I got a little wild. I tried some things I never thought I would and had sex in places I wouldn’t under any other circumstances, but I was going through some things and sex was my way of coping. Sex gave me a way to escape all my problems and to just live and have fun at the time. Me and K had hit another rough patch and she almost killed herself. I was finally away from home and I was truly on my own. College was a new beast that high school had not prepared me for, so I resorted to what I was comfortable in. To what I knew I was good at, and that was sex.
But at 19 I’m doing better. I know sex is not the answer to all my problems, its actually one of the problems. But I’m doing good, on occasion I may slip back into that mind frame but it doesn’t last forever. I’m okay with not having sex, and jerking does the job the same and there isn’t any guilt left afterwards.
Sorry for the post being so long, but I was bored and a little sad. But now I’m hungry. Pizza anyone?
Posted by J at 3:39 PM 4 comments
Labels: issues
06 March 2009
issues:trust
I have trust issues. I wasn’t gonna talk about this issue, but I guess it’s the easiest one to do before the heavy stuff.
These trust issues go back to my mommy and daddy issues. As a child neither was really there for me. I was alone a lot at home, and if I was there it was usually because I was babysitting my little brother. I don’t know if my parents meant to lie to me, or it just sorta happened, because they felt if they disappointed me it wouldn’t affect me as much as my two brothers.
They would lie about small stuff, big stuff, or just dumb stuff. I remember asking for a lava lamp for my birthday when I was six or seven. It was all I wanted, and they promised me I would get it. February 14 came around and there was no lava lamp. Then there’s the cell phone incident. My mom promised me if I made all A’s in the eighth grade that she would finally buy me a cell phone. No problem, I was already a straight “A” student so this was a guaranteed cell phone. I made straight “As” and there was still no cell phone. The one thing this taught me was to stop asking for things, because it was the only way I could stop myself from being disappointed. If I didn’t ask for something, then they’d have no reason to lie to me, I would have no reason to get my hopes up, only to have them crushed.
The other big problem I have with trust is the fact that its hard for me to trust my friends. I wanna give them the benefit that they won’t burn me, but from past experiences when I let people in they did just that. So I learned to build up walls to protect myself from being hurt. It’s worked for a while, but now I’m realizing that maybe its time to just let go and start trusting people again.
For instance, yesterday was a really good day for me. I finally realized that people actually like me, and that I have more friends than I thought. This semester has really been good for me and my confidence. I’m finally seeing that when I don’t hold back and actually let people see who I am they tend to respond positively, believe it or not.
Yesterday a girl from my art class invited me to sit with her and a friend in the dining hall. And then another girl whose in my color comp class just ran up to me and hugged me when she saw me walk outside the art building. We sat there and had a twenty minute conversation about random things.
Then on Wednesday after color comp class a few of us stayed after to finish some work. We just sat around, cracked jokes, and talked about nothing. I even got to express my love for Britney, because someone actually went to her concert in Atlanta yesterday. This is something I never do. My love for Britney is something only people that have known me since middle school know. I’m embarrassed to say I love her, but I didn’t feel weird or awkward saying it. It just felt nice.
But I guess the ultimate thing happened today before color comp class. I walked in and Al was just sitting there finishing up one of the projects we had due today. I came in and we just started talking. The conversation wasn’t forced, and it felt nice to learn new things about him and to tell him things about me. We even ate lunch after class and continued our conversation.
So yea, I have trust issues, but I think I’m slowly bringing the walls down.
These trust issues go back to my mommy and daddy issues. As a child neither was really there for me. I was alone a lot at home, and if I was there it was usually because I was babysitting my little brother. I don’t know if my parents meant to lie to me, or it just sorta happened, because they felt if they disappointed me it wouldn’t affect me as much as my two brothers.
They would lie about small stuff, big stuff, or just dumb stuff. I remember asking for a lava lamp for my birthday when I was six or seven. It was all I wanted, and they promised me I would get it. February 14 came around and there was no lava lamp. Then there’s the cell phone incident. My mom promised me if I made all A’s in the eighth grade that she would finally buy me a cell phone. No problem, I was already a straight “A” student so this was a guaranteed cell phone. I made straight “As” and there was still no cell phone. The one thing this taught me was to stop asking for things, because it was the only way I could stop myself from being disappointed. If I didn’t ask for something, then they’d have no reason to lie to me, I would have no reason to get my hopes up, only to have them crushed.
The other big problem I have with trust is the fact that its hard for me to trust my friends. I wanna give them the benefit that they won’t burn me, but from past experiences when I let people in they did just that. So I learned to build up walls to protect myself from being hurt. It’s worked for a while, but now I’m realizing that maybe its time to just let go and start trusting people again.
For instance, yesterday was a really good day for me. I finally realized that people actually like me, and that I have more friends than I thought. This semester has really been good for me and my confidence. I’m finally seeing that when I don’t hold back and actually let people see who I am they tend to respond positively, believe it or not.
Yesterday a girl from my art class invited me to sit with her and a friend in the dining hall. And then another girl whose in my color comp class just ran up to me and hugged me when she saw me walk outside the art building. We sat there and had a twenty minute conversation about random things.
Then on Wednesday after color comp class a few of us stayed after to finish some work. We just sat around, cracked jokes, and talked about nothing. I even got to express my love for Britney, because someone actually went to her concert in Atlanta yesterday. This is something I never do. My love for Britney is something only people that have known me since middle school know. I’m embarrassed to say I love her, but I didn’t feel weird or awkward saying it. It just felt nice.
But I guess the ultimate thing happened today before color comp class. I walked in and Al was just sitting there finishing up one of the projects we had due today. I came in and we just started talking. The conversation wasn’t forced, and it felt nice to learn new things about him and to tell him things about me. We even ate lunch after class and continued our conversation.
So yea, I have trust issues, but I think I’m slowly bringing the walls down.
Posted by J at 4:29 PM 3 comments
Labels: issues
05 March 2009
issues:the prelude
With school coming to a standstill starting Friday, and my love life in order there’s not much for me to talk about. I thought about just not posting for a week or two, but I hate when other blogs do that so I came up with another idea. So all next week and maybe some this week I will be talking about the issues I’ve been dealing with the last nineteen years.
I've talked to a lot of people and a few of them have recommended I see a counselor or some kind of psychiatrist, but I’ve always brushed them off. Mainly because I fear that either they’ll prejudge me or tell me that I’m too “damaged” to be “fixed.” But I’m at a point where I’m open to the idea of seeing a counselor here at school. I even took the initiative of finding out how exactly I could see one at the health center here on campus, so I guess I’ll make that decision after I return from spring break.
So the biggest issues that I think I have are:
I have daddy issues.
I have mommy issues, or I did in high school.
I was molested.
I have a fascination with sex.
These are my issues. These are the things that made me who I am today, and I think they all come from the fact that I was molested as a child. I’ve never really talked about this experience in depth with anyone, and when I do I always make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, that it could have been worse. But it is a big deal and no child should ever have to experience it.
I honestly believe that if I was never molested that I wouldn’t be gay, bisexual, or whatever label I put on myself today. That maybe I would have been this straight guy, living this straight life, with the perfect girlfriend. That I wouldn’t be so confused at times, but would I be happy. That’s a question I’ll never be able to answer, but I do know I’m happy with where my life is headed now. I’m glad I have been able to experience the love of both a guy and a girl, because love is something we should all experience at least once in our lives. It’s an amazing feeling and you feel larger than life, so if the only way for me to have experienced this twice then maybe the best thing was being molested.
But this is just the prelude, the heavy stuff will follow.
I've talked to a lot of people and a few of them have recommended I see a counselor or some kind of psychiatrist, but I’ve always brushed them off. Mainly because I fear that either they’ll prejudge me or tell me that I’m too “damaged” to be “fixed.” But I’m at a point where I’m open to the idea of seeing a counselor here at school. I even took the initiative of finding out how exactly I could see one at the health center here on campus, so I guess I’ll make that decision after I return from spring break.
So the biggest issues that I think I have are:
I have daddy issues.
I have mommy issues, or I did in high school.
I was molested.
I have a fascination with sex.
These are my issues. These are the things that made me who I am today, and I think they all come from the fact that I was molested as a child. I’ve never really talked about this experience in depth with anyone, and when I do I always make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, that it could have been worse. But it is a big deal and no child should ever have to experience it.
I honestly believe that if I was never molested that I wouldn’t be gay, bisexual, or whatever label I put on myself today. That maybe I would have been this straight guy, living this straight life, with the perfect girlfriend. That I wouldn’t be so confused at times, but would I be happy. That’s a question I’ll never be able to answer, but I do know I’m happy with where my life is headed now. I’m glad I have been able to experience the love of both a guy and a girl, because love is something we should all experience at least once in our lives. It’s an amazing feeling and you feel larger than life, so if the only way for me to have experienced this twice then maybe the best thing was being molested.
But this is just the prelude, the heavy stuff will follow.
Posted by J at 8:04 PM 6 comments
Labels: issues
28 December 2008
my vietnam pt. 2
Daddy was a soldier. Mom was a nurse. So I wish I could say whenever dad would tear me down she was there to build me up, but I can't. No ones to blame really. I'm sure my mother never planned to have the life that she now leads. She had my brother when she was 17 and still in high school. Two years later she had me, and four years after that she had my younger brother.
My mom has always been a hard worker and now looking back I appreciate her a lot more than I use to. I guess when you're younger you never realize what your parents go through to take care of you, but they go through a lot. I'll never forget the week when my mother had to be hospitalized for exhaustion and dehydration. Working two jobs, going to school, and having three kids while being a single mom isn't an easy life and I love my mom even more now because you made it this far. Only has one more to go, but he's gonna end up in jail before he graduates so she'll be able to retire soon.
But I haven't always had this beautiful outlook on my mom, I remember when I didn't think my mom loved me and after he boyfriend swore up and down that he found gay porn on the computer and she confronted me about it, I never trusted her again. I couldn't understand how she could believe some random guy over her own flesh and blood. That whole situation really hurt me deep, but I got over it.
I'm 18 now and I understand that whatever she did for me she did in love. I'm just a little sad that it took this long to figure out. I've said this once before, but the day I finally realized that my mom truly loved me was when she started crying when she found out I got accepted to college. It was weird, because for me it wasn't a big deal at all, but to her it was a major ordeal. I guess I can understand that.
I have a huge family and I only have one cousin that has graduated from college so far. My mom was the only one of her six brothers and sisters to graduate from college. My dad never graduated from college. And I guess from my generation of younger cousins and brothers so far I'm the only one in college.
I love my mom and I'm glad I can truly say that and actually mean it. There's only two people I have undying love for and would take a bullet for. My mom is one and the other is out there somewhere probably getting high.
My mom has always been a hard worker and now looking back I appreciate her a lot more than I use to. I guess when you're younger you never realize what your parents go through to take care of you, but they go through a lot. I'll never forget the week when my mother had to be hospitalized for exhaustion and dehydration. Working two jobs, going to school, and having three kids while being a single mom isn't an easy life and I love my mom even more now because you made it this far. Only has one more to go, but he's gonna end up in jail before he graduates so she'll be able to retire soon.
But I haven't always had this beautiful outlook on my mom, I remember when I didn't think my mom loved me and after he boyfriend swore up and down that he found gay porn on the computer and she confronted me about it, I never trusted her again. I couldn't understand how she could believe some random guy over her own flesh and blood. That whole situation really hurt me deep, but I got over it.
I'm 18 now and I understand that whatever she did for me she did in love. I'm just a little sad that it took this long to figure out. I've said this once before, but the day I finally realized that my mom truly loved me was when she started crying when she found out I got accepted to college. It was weird, because for me it wasn't a big deal at all, but to her it was a major ordeal. I guess I can understand that.
I have a huge family and I only have one cousin that has graduated from college so far. My mom was the only one of her six brothers and sisters to graduate from college. My dad never graduated from college. And I guess from my generation of younger cousins and brothers so far I'm the only one in college.
I love my mom and I'm glad I can truly say that and actually mean it. There's only two people I have undying love for and would take a bullet for. My mom is one and the other is out there somewhere probably getting high.
Posted by J at 3:50 AM 1 comments
24 December 2008
my vietnam pt. 1
The holidays always brings family together, but family has never been a major part in my life. The people that I've always held closest to me have been friends. Friends and my mother. Call me a momma's boy, but I would give my life to save my mom from anything. My dad on the other hand, well that's an entirely different story.
My dad was a soldier. He was a marine and that shaped his whole life when I was a child. Even when he was discharged, something he didn't want, his mentality never changed. I still remember one day he wrestled one of his Marine Corps. t-shirt off of me because he didn't deem me "man" enough to wear it. I guess that was his first mistake with me, because I''ve never looked at him the same since.
The memories we share are never good ones. The ones that stand the most potent in my mind either revolve around him fighting with my mother or him chasing me with a belt. Not things you would want to remember, but that's all I have. So when we finally left I guess it was a happy moment for me. I was only eight, but I was glad that I didn't have to see him on a daily basis anymore. But it wasn't like he was there everyday anyway.
After moving away I would only see my dad during Thanksgiving and for a couple of weeks in the Summer. I guess this is the main reason why I hate Thanksgiving so much now. Having to leave what I'm comfortable with to go see my father and everyone on his side of the family and continue to hear the same things over and over. I always felt out of place, I never felt comfortable so I would always dread the time spent there.
As I got older things started to change. I saw my dad more often, but he wasn't coming to see me. He finally had the son he always wanted in my younger brother. He would come all the way just to watch him play football. At one moment I actually thought I was feeling jealousy when I saw how they acted with each other, but I know better now.I wasn't jealous I was sad for my brother.
See in my brother's eyes our dad is a King. He's the best thing in the world and can do no wrong. He puts him up on a pedastal and he can do no wrong, but if he only knew who is dad was. I'm scared that one day he's going to realize it and he won't be able to handle it.
Me and my dad relationship is still non existent and that's how I want it to remain. The last couple of years he's tried to reach out to me, but I can't let him in my life. I don't want to. When I needed him he wasn't there and now that he sees I'm growing up into a very successful young man he wants to be a part of it and I think thats why he's trying so hard with my youngest brother, because he doesn't want to miss out on the rest of his life like he did with mine.
I'm sure there will come a day where I can get over my issues with my dad, but I don't see that happening anytime soon. Maybe I'm not mature enough. Or maybe I'm just being selfish. Whatever it is I just know that I'll make it with or without him like I have for the past eighteen years of my life.
My dad was a soldier. He was a marine and that shaped his whole life when I was a child. Even when he was discharged, something he didn't want, his mentality never changed. I still remember one day he wrestled one of his Marine Corps. t-shirt off of me because he didn't deem me "man" enough to wear it. I guess that was his first mistake with me, because I''ve never looked at him the same since.
The memories we share are never good ones. The ones that stand the most potent in my mind either revolve around him fighting with my mother or him chasing me with a belt. Not things you would want to remember, but that's all I have. So when we finally left I guess it was a happy moment for me. I was only eight, but I was glad that I didn't have to see him on a daily basis anymore. But it wasn't like he was there everyday anyway.
After moving away I would only see my dad during Thanksgiving and for a couple of weeks in the Summer. I guess this is the main reason why I hate Thanksgiving so much now. Having to leave what I'm comfortable with to go see my father and everyone on his side of the family and continue to hear the same things over and over. I always felt out of place, I never felt comfortable so I would always dread the time spent there.
As I got older things started to change. I saw my dad more often, but he wasn't coming to see me. He finally had the son he always wanted in my younger brother. He would come all the way just to watch him play football. At one moment I actually thought I was feeling jealousy when I saw how they acted with each other, but I know better now.I wasn't jealous I was sad for my brother.
See in my brother's eyes our dad is a King. He's the best thing in the world and can do no wrong. He puts him up on a pedastal and he can do no wrong, but if he only knew who is dad was. I'm scared that one day he's going to realize it and he won't be able to handle it.
Me and my dad relationship is still non existent and that's how I want it to remain. The last couple of years he's tried to reach out to me, but I can't let him in my life. I don't want to. When I needed him he wasn't there and now that he sees I'm growing up into a very successful young man he wants to be a part of it and I think thats why he's trying so hard with my youngest brother, because he doesn't want to miss out on the rest of his life like he did with mine.
I'm sure there will come a day where I can get over my issues with my dad, but I don't see that happening anytime soon. Maybe I'm not mature enough. Or maybe I'm just being selfish. Whatever it is I just know that I'll make it with or without him like I have for the past eighteen years of my life.
Posted by J at 4:26 PM 0 comments
21 December 2008
i'm a filthy, fucking whore
I feel dirty right now. I feel like I could take thirty million baths right now and I would still be dirty. I'm a whore and I have a problem. The only difference this time is I'm actually serious. I really think I have a problem and I need professional help. Some people are alcoholic and some people are addicted to drugs. I hate drinking, and I haven't smoked anything in a while, but I am a sex addict.
My name is Inebriated and I'm addicted to sex.
How else could you explain my encounter with this married man that stays next door to my Aunt. I mean we only had a brief encounter earlier when I was helping my Aunt put up some more Christmas decorations, but for some reason I ended up in his house and the next thing I know his hands is on my ass and my tongue is playing with his balls. This never happens to me, but college happened and now I can't stop having sex. Whether its with myself, with Dummy, with Redcoat, or just the guy down the street. It seems my mind always wanders back to sex.
And me being the addict I am, the five minute "Get To Know Me Better" session we had inside his house resulted in me giving him my number, and him telling me he would call me around 4 as he was heading out to work. So instead of me just jacking off and calling it a night I end up staying up and waiting for his text. And sure enough he text and I took my happy, slutty self out of my bed and snuck out the front door. Hopped in his car, said hey and off we went to find a secluded location. Two blocks later we found one and I did what I seem to do better. I pulled down his pants and went to work on his dick.
A couple minutes of moaning, him thrusting so I could deep throat it more, some "Grab my balls harders" and wallah a cum shot and a wet washcloth to clean my face and his dick off with. He told me I was the best he'd ever had, I thanked him and asked if he would return the favor. He made a joke about that being new to him and preceded to slode me some money and dropped me off back at my Aunts while he went on to work and here I am typing.
I guess the fact that he gave me money is what is bothering me so much. No one has ever paid me money to have sex with him, and I wouldn't ask for it, but he felt the need to offer me these "benefits". That doesn't really sit too good with me, I'm thinking really hard about burning the money and being threw with it, but I just paid the rest of my tuition and I still need to buy my books.
Whatever I decide I do know I'm going to remain celebant while doing so. I don't plan on having anymore sex with anyone else until I'm in some kind of commited relationship. Unless ofcourse I see K walking threw the streets or if Redcoat decides he wants to fuck. Those are the only two exceptions.
Because I'm a sex addict and I have a problem.
My name is Inebriated and I'm addicted to sex.
How else could you explain my encounter with this married man that stays next door to my Aunt. I mean we only had a brief encounter earlier when I was helping my Aunt put up some more Christmas decorations, but for some reason I ended up in his house and the next thing I know his hands is on my ass and my tongue is playing with his balls. This never happens to me, but college happened and now I can't stop having sex. Whether its with myself, with Dummy, with Redcoat, or just the guy down the street. It seems my mind always wanders back to sex.
And me being the addict I am, the five minute "Get To Know Me Better" session we had inside his house resulted in me giving him my number, and him telling me he would call me around 4 as he was heading out to work. So instead of me just jacking off and calling it a night I end up staying up and waiting for his text. And sure enough he text and I took my happy, slutty self out of my bed and snuck out the front door. Hopped in his car, said hey and off we went to find a secluded location. Two blocks later we found one and I did what I seem to do better. I pulled down his pants and went to work on his dick.
A couple minutes of moaning, him thrusting so I could deep throat it more, some "Grab my balls harders" and wallah a cum shot and a wet washcloth to clean my face and his dick off with. He told me I was the best he'd ever had, I thanked him and asked if he would return the favor. He made a joke about that being new to him and preceded to slode me some money and dropped me off back at my Aunts while he went on to work and here I am typing.
I guess the fact that he gave me money is what is bothering me so much. No one has ever paid me money to have sex with him, and I wouldn't ask for it, but he felt the need to offer me these "benefits". That doesn't really sit too good with me, I'm thinking really hard about burning the money and being threw with it, but I just paid the rest of my tuition and I still need to buy my books.
Whatever I decide I do know I'm going to remain celebant while doing so. I don't plan on having anymore sex with anyone else until I'm in some kind of commited relationship. Unless ofcourse I see K walking threw the streets or if Redcoat decides he wants to fuck. Those are the only two exceptions.
Because I'm a sex addict and I have a problem.
Posted by J at 5:16 AM 1 comments
08 December 2008
lonelyboy15
I was just over at my favorite blog/secret crush page and I think it just vocalized all the angst and unspoken feelings I have inside of me. I go to this huge university, the biggest in Georgia, but I don't think anyone sees me. I walk past kids everyday and we just walk past each other. No one speaks we just keep walking.
Even the people I have friendships with don't truly know me, and I guess I can only blame myself for that. Because I won't let them get to see the real me, I can't. My biggest fear in life besides dying would have to be being naked. For someone to see through all the clothes, all the walls I put up, and to see at the core who I am.To see all my mistakes, all my scars, and all my insecurities that's just something I don't think I could handle.
I have trust issues, because the one time I let myself go it blew up in my face and I don't ever want that to happen. So how am I suppose to trust someone with the fact that I am bisexual. I don't even know how to tell someone that I'm bi. Do I just blatantly say that I like guys, but I also like girls. It seems it would be so much easier to just pick one, but I can't do that.
I'm just stuck in the middle.
Even the people I have friendships with don't truly know me, and I guess I can only blame myself for that. Because I won't let them get to see the real me, I can't. My biggest fear in life besides dying would have to be being naked. For someone to see through all the clothes, all the walls I put up, and to see at the core who I am.To see all my mistakes, all my scars, and all my insecurities that's just something I don't think I could handle.
I have trust issues, because the one time I let myself go it blew up in my face and I don't ever want that to happen. So how am I suppose to trust someone with the fact that I am bisexual. I don't even know how to tell someone that I'm bi. Do I just blatantly say that I like guys, but I also like girls. It seems it would be so much easier to just pick one, but I can't do that.
I'm just stuck in the middle.
Posted by J at 9:52 AM 2 comments
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