Scandalous Instagram Account

Roughly 3 months back, I did something really scandalous. I created an Instagram account with the tagline of "My Fucking Memoir in Still", documenting moments of my sex life, in which there are pictures of oral, anal and some down right kinky stuff. In less then 3 months, I posted around 40 very revealing pictures, and was able to gather nearly 4 thousand followers. The figure was a bit shocking to me, but after seeing other people which can gather 400 likes for one picture in less then an hour, I realize my feat was actually mediocre by standards. Too bad the officials caught up and the account was banned, which was not surprising at all. Thankfully it was banned, for I realize I really don't have much pics to post anymore. And no, am not planning to recreate another similar account, too much effort and too stressful. There were many times during the 3 months period, where I log on to Instagram in the middle of the night, or every hour after I posted a pic, just to find out how many likes I can gather or if anybody left me any comments. It can borderline psychotic and narcissistic for sure.

In guts I trust

Sometimes when bad things happens, it happens in a roll, as if someone has just put a curse on you. Ridiculous yet alarming series of unfortunate events unfold one after another, nearly putting one off balance. There is nothing we can do to change it, we can only endure the damage of the aftermath. Painful as it is but we must treat it as a sign; a sign where the universe gives us a heads-up about the bumpy life journey ahead. If we were to pay attention to the warnings laying blatantly before us, we could avoid further damage. We often do not appreciate precautions steps that helps evades troubles, we only complain of our lack of hindsight, thus it is crucial that we learn to trust our guts, that when hookups turns nasty, celibacy is probably the best way to appease the divines.

This love was...

“This love was a torment, and he resented bitterly the subjugation in which it held him; he was a prisoner and he longed for freedom. Sometimes he awoke in the morning and felt nothing; his soul leaped, for he thought he was free; he loved no longer; but in a little while, as he grew wide awake, the pain settled in his heart, and he knew that he was not cured yet.” ― W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage

失落幻想

那一天他朋友问我，“你喜欢他吗？”
我微笑摇头说，“没有。”
但是这番话却让我想起了他熟睡的样子，回忆起他谈话中的淡淡忧愁和眼神中的孤寂。他那一句“我不喜欢现在的我，越是清醒，我越讨厌自己”不断的回荡在耳边。

不否认他是有吸引力的，但是更多的是他让我想起了你。看着他就像是看着你，你们之间有太多相似的地方，他慰藉了我对你的渴望。又或者这么说，我把我对你的思念变成一种假想，以为他和你的背影交错。但是我知道你俩是不同的，你俩根本没有相似的地方，一切只不过是我失落的幻想。

What be thy name?

A friend that is still in the closet has the habit of separating his gay friends from his straight friends. He has at least two different phone numbers, one straight, one gay. This is all fine as long as he keeps track of which phone is which. He also has several names that he goes by, base on which name you know him by, you are classified either as straight, gay or fuck buddies. In addition, he also have separate Facebook accounts, one to get in touch with his straight friends, one to connect with his non-straight pals. Things seems to work well until he reaches the 6th degree of separation, where a straight friend who knows one of his gay friend came across his other fb account and asked him about it, causing him to hastily delete the account.

Personally I have never find the need for a different name. The way I see it is, if we are only meeting once for fun, my real name is as good as a fake one; but if we are meeting more than that, it would save me the trouble of a second self introduction. But hey, who am I to judge what rocks your boat? Just as I don't need others rocking mine. There is really no right or wrong in this matter.