bromance

Things are getting complicated in this; I’m not so surprise that it is happening, weird and divine desert.  It is hot, the air is blowing nothing but hot air filled with dust particle that are made of sands, feces, bead anything including humans.  It’s discussing and I hate it here.  My feelings or sexual tension toward this a peer that I’ve met a while back is increasing.  It would not be the first time while being here but if something were to happen it would have been my last. I find it ironic and exciting at the same time.

Its downtime and things are changing as we are approaching the end. Thank God, at this point I don’t really care. What makes this place worst than what it actually is is there is no one I can relate on a personal level. I don’t have a gang to hang-out with, talk and laugh with. All I’ve got are co-workers, whom I don’t particularly interest in sharing. I learned quickly, whatever you tell one person, everybody else gets to know and I don’t like that.  Every since I recognize that trait, I rationalize carefully what I want everybody to know.

I thought this lifestyle was ideal for bromance. I’ve seen it and I would like to have one for myself. Not a boyfriend or anything sexual related but someone that is genuinely a bro. maybe that is what I’ve found but my perverted instincts is making me think things that are untrained making blood rush through my veins and electrify my nerves. Rather than making these impulses into something that it’s not, I’m going to make it into something that it is and would be happy with.  It’s weird and comes at the right moment. Even thing has its time. That is not what make things complicate in this; I’m not so surprise that is happening, weird and divine deserts. I was told me getting home may be push back. My world is not shattered, it’s not upside down, I’m not even angry, it just didn’t take me by surprise.

fading away

It is quiet in my office in this weird yet divine desert and I like it.  I like being in a team but at times I prefer to be left alone.  But my individualism is hindering me from the truth that I need people in my life and this noise missing in this open space is a cancer slowly creeping and eating away at my insanity.

I am a social person, I awfully enjoy a good conversation, being around people of like mind, laugh out loud at stupid joke and try to fit in. my smiles has faded, I laugh rarely, people irritate the every nerves in body. And that kind of attitude is all around me.

I cannot escape from the media who seem to care more about what other people are doing with their private lives than to report on what is going on in my area or the world.  It bothers me people are so into themselves that they have lost faith in God and want to become atheist.  It seems as if our psyche is evolving to a period beyond cavemen. The injustice, the lack of’ motivation is creating a void in our existence, in a few more years we won’t have nothing positive to live for.

Sometime I say to myself that I miss home, second later I had to pose myself of what exactly do I really miss. Thought I try to come with answers of what or who I missed, in the bottom of my heart I miss no one. Not even my dog because I know she is taken cared for. I don’t miss my family because I know they will be fine even with or without my presence even my friends. I’m living in deny as if I actually miss something or someone when I don’t.

It is not easy to admit that I’m selfish and that I’m living in my own reality, a story written and play by me and no other characters. I’ve lost a part of me that I’m painfully re-building. The wonders a quiet office in this weird yet divine desert can make you realize.

life is deceitful

Strange things happened in this weird yet divine desert.  During a period of down-time at work, I took a moment to go over some of my past years being introduced to web.  I looked at pictures of my high school years, my college years and I saw old e-mails that I’ve sent attached with old pictures of when I was a chubby, sheltered boy. I smiled, got me excited and got angry and moved on.  I could not help feeling nostalgic about my younger years. I concluded that I was a desperate wreck, a desperate teenage wreck.  

I hated being the oldest of three, all the responsibility fell on my shoulders. I was the example. I wanted an older brother ever since I could remember or someone, relatively close to my age, to share my anguish, to fight for me and be my strong hold. That was where my male attraction came about. I remembered in grade school I enjoyed, very much, the company of my male peers, I want to be their best friend, to play wrestling, and do “stuff” when our parents was away. I was very curious about the male human body growing-up. It gave me a feeling of excitement. It would excite me when I would play wrestling. I would touch my young friends’ private part and get him to touch mined and advance to “things” an adult would do.  Child plays were fascinating.

There is no denying of what I wanted when I was younger; to pretend to be a heterosexual man with men friends whom which I would have sexual acts with. It does have a nice ring to it and was a nicely formulated dream, but that kind of life is deceitful.  I once knew of a person who did that.  It made me sick and I felt sorry for him and his family and I can see myself as being that guy he creeps with everyone and then.  How much can it be after sex when feelings start to mount? No matter what is said before having sex, it does lead to feelings, an un-wanted kind of feelings. 

Seeing where I was may help me move to where I would like to be in the next couple of months are years. I now know what I’m looking for, what I want in life and who I am, even though it may takes me a while to tell someone else. It is weird how all of these series of unexplainable events are happening in this weird yet divine place. It’s amazing.  

less than to be a man

I met this guy none other in this weird yet divine desert. He is white, about my height, five feet and nine inches or so, slimmer, ok on the eye but attractive in his own right. I thought nothing of it at first, I never do, but little by little we started to have these small chats, talking about the Olympics, work and friend and then one day we exchanged facebook. The feeling was neutral then but as we started talking and I saw hisprofile on facebook I could not help having these thoughts that I know him froma very long time ago. A feelings inside my belly started brew like my mama’s infamouscurry stews. I was falling for him.

My attractionfor white men started during my army training. I was around thirty andsomething white males whom I’ve seen each, butt ass naked several times in theshowers and the more I was around their sausages the more intriguing I wasabout their styles and their mannerism, so much so that if I saw a brother itdid not phase me or even excite me down there. I don’t know where the dislike of white mencame about; it must be history or society that makes it unholy for a black andwhite to coexist and to even love one another. My dislike, my fears and all my negative attributesvanished. Nothing excited me more thanto be in the pants of a vanilla and swirl both of our worlds because they areas exotic to me as I am to them.

I was fallingfor someone that may not be falling for me like I’m falling for them. The woes are me for it is so hard to bedriving by emotions. I told myself this a million of time, if every men I that Ithought was into other men like I am then every men that I see would be gay orwith no labels into men discreetly. For themost part that statement has a ground to stand on but not all the time. What I’mafraid of the most is whether my feelings are genuine, as in if they are moodsfor something sexual or sensations of real intimacy. I would like to have bothbut with intimacy as my foundation. It’s too soon to tell. we are slaves to times and only time can tellour destiny. I did met a guy in this weird yet divine place, maybe I can usetime in my favor and for once claim it as its master then will destiny be athand

DUCK

I’ve done nothing productive on my six months and two day in this weird yet divine desert.  It’s bothersome when I think about it, so I try not to let it phase me. Work is effortless, I don’t put much effort or thought into. The goals are for nothing to gone missing and I don’t get disrespected. So far so good (knock on wood). I have a team. They say they are a team but I personally don’t see the team.  It is an everyman for them-selves team when something has gone wrong. I want to get the fuck out of this place.

I hate being around these masculine men. I can’t help myself but lust. The number of time I had a fantasy of one of the soldier here could make you think that I was a pervert. I’m not. I’m around too much testosterone.  They tease me, and I’m illiterate with signals even if someone wanted to give me some, I can’t tell and for def I won’t act on my impulses. It helps to work my sexual tension off at the gym, the devil playground. I love to exercise, work off a good sweat, it help with tension but it also increase tension.  The gym is the only place where another man can check another man and not be completely gay.  Sweaty ball, dick prints, nice asses and drenched shirts I love it. I stares in secret, through the mirror, fun times.  The gym, the bathroom being seeing solo was a tease. It teases my imagination, my mind.  My only sanctuary was the corner I slept in. No place is safe not even my dreams.  

I cannot wait to return home.  It is hard to miss one particular thing. I miss everything, especially my dog. I miss her. I miss not being on my own rhythm but that won’t be changing even when I’m home. Sometimes I wonder if I want to go back home. But anywhere is better than this place. Home is where the heart is and my heart is not here. A part of my heart is where my dog is with my folks but the other other portion are scattered.  I need to figure this out where can home be for me. I wish I had think of building a home rather than absolute nothing for six months and two days in this weird yet divine desert.  It’s very bothersome.

betrayed

Everything I’ve touched is starting betrayed me and by the looks of things my dick will soon follow suit. Hell by now I think it (Kevin-the name of my dick) has giving hope of ever reach it potential. I can’t seem to get my groove on, for the lack of better word I am an unsatisfied bottom. I logged on to Adam4Adam, spending countless of hours, procrastinating, when I could have been studying for my finals, staring at the screen of my monitor for the next prey but instead nothing. These men, what the fuck are they online for if they aren’t looking to freak. Chatting is boring, and I ‘am not looking for friends, I have too many too much to keep tract. Lucky my urge for sex is not bad otherwise I would have been those who are seen on the subway platform playing eye game with potential man as the rub their dick right in front me. I could never spurge the courage to lead them the end of the cart, to do the dirty deed we both wanted and waited for hours, but instead I go about my business to them masturbate in my bed of what I just encounter and if only I was strong enough to act on the signal being thrown at me. Then again knowing I would never, then again that would explain why an unsatisfied bottom I ‘am.

seasons changes

Sometimes I say to myself I hope this game do not change who I am or determine the type of individual I become. But as the seasons come and go, so does my soul as it drowns in sorrows of neglects.
Tears are coming down my eyes for I can’t look at myself in the mirror with-out being discussed by my sights. What ever happen with playing it safe or being careful to NOT let emotion can mix in all of this mess.
I can’t help feeling guilty because for the most part I am to blame. I don’t know where I went down the wrong path of being this being that is just living for today knowing damn well tomorrow will come.
I want to make it all go away...