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Dainty Beauty
12 October 2009 @ 12:28 pm
This is the most personal and up-close I've gotten with him. I most likely won't need to update this blog with my venting frustrations anymore since now that we're actually exchanging some personal dialogue, I'd sooner cut out my tongue than posting anything we say in confidence. I have a feeling he wouldn't like that. (Supposing that he's reading the blog now, I bet you he would find it hysterically hilarious.) Even in emails he wasn't that personable, but he did tell me his attitude on certain things that I asked him in the email, and then some other things that he wouldn't otherwise post publicly. Getting to know him a little makes me so happy! That's all I can say, folks. Can't say more than that, though I would like to. Good day! ;-P
 
 
Dainty Beauty
12 October 2009 @ 09:32 am
In my leisure, I perused the email at the pace of a snail (I am getting a knack for rhyming at random. lol). I went through the email word by word, taking a break at every few lines to savor every last detail like a lucky little girl who was rewarded the delicious and much coveted candy after much begging and pleading. "Mommy! Mommy! PLEASE can I have it PLEASE????? CAN I HAVE IT SI VOUS PLAIT?????"

One hour later I finished the very first paragraph. Five more to go, and as I go along, I am gradually reduced from my usual conscientious, detached, ocassionally snobbish persona to a weak, dominated, drooling fool. Slave to his every whims. All logic are useless and futile. All caution nuked. I am insanely, tremendously, absolutely and utterly fucked. He is like cocaine, I am hooked. I wanted more and I'm ready to pay whatever price there is to get high again. Infatuation is a terrible beauty.
 
 
Dainty Beauty
12 October 2009 @ 08:16 am
I got the email. I anticipated it. What I didn't anticipate was that when he chanted my "stage" name, I didn't make it past four words. I logged off without perusing the email and went to the bathroom. My knees shared one single, impactful violent kiss with the carpet and my heart sank into my stomach and danced so frightfully that I almost retched. Like a drug addict, I kneeled over on the ground and trembled from the temporary withdrawal. There was only another time in my life when every single cell of my body  desperatedly coveted somebody. The difference is only that this time, I set myself up for Rejection, because since high school I have been enlightened from bitter experience that Regret is the bitchier of the two R's. With Rejection any mature adult eventually get over it. With Regret it is seldom that you get a chance to redeem yourself, like the slim chance that I was compelled to take back for the past few days.
 
 
Dainty Beauty
11 October 2009 @ 10:01 am
I've been guilty on multiple charges when it comes to settling. That is, settling for less than what I've bargained for. Of course, it's almost impossible to find the utopian fit, and that goes for most ladies and gents. But while shortcomings are forgivable sins, the numero uno gross sin in my dating book is settling for a romance-less relationship deal. That deal is the most worthless of shit and in my opinion. Maybe it's a case of temporary convenience, and maybe it gives you some sort of social advantage, but it undeniably tramples on the fun and enjoyment of dating. My first boyfriend was the first willing victim to my less-than-complacent settlement, and we did not date long. Last ex almost happened in my dating world by accident, one that eventually trapped me with guilt and obligation instead of romantic feelings. I did have one boyfriend (or should I say man-friend, technically because he is 25 years well past boyhood) who I had romantic feelings for. I had so much feelings for him, in fact, that a few months later it scared me away.  Surely I would not be able to come out unscathed once my naivety and simplistic notions stopped working its charms on him. It was the only relationship I don't regret having, and the only relationship I mourn the demise of. I got out unscathed just as I planned, and less pleased with myself than before. I wasn't fucked up by my man. I was fucked up by my own paranoia and insecurities. How lame is that?

Romance is the most fortunate thing that can happen in dating. Mutual reciprocation of romantic feelings doubly fortunate. Without it you're settling for less, forced to display affection with each other like mechanical robots, with each hug painfully effortful, and each kiss less than arousing. What are you going to do when you develop feelings for somebody else, then were made to feel badly for this little un-PC transgression against the monogamous dating norm? Don't you have yourself to blame when it happens in the wrong place at the wrong time only because you would rather be tied down with a boring yet safe partner and reap the material and emotional benefits of being a taken woman? 
 
 
Dainty Beauty
10 October 2009 @ 12:26 am
He is onto me now, He is insinuating interest, and that sneaky bastard had the nerve to made me believe my perceived reciprocity of interest to be pitiful and desperate paranoia. It may be the slightest of flirtation from his part, but nevertheless it made me happy enough to hang on to it for dear life. I feel flattered and grateful and wanted and temporarily left more insatiated than before.  But my confusion remains. 

Emails.....ziggers.....hello? You read them yet? 

Let me put things this way. So many can talk about themselves with more egotistic masturbatory blahblahblahing than things of interest. I tune a deaf ear to them. When he talks about himself, I want to hear more. I want to know what kind of biographic history he had that led to achieving his total condition literary sophistication, wry and ironic jokes and utter mental superiority over others. Above all else the ironic jokes and the occasional witty charm that I've come to be fond of and fascinated by. I have no delusions. I bore witness to his frailties and shortcomings, but even those has become what I like about him and I wouldn't change a thing.

Oh fuck me, fuck me. Crushes has a way of making me stupid and left me with useless experience that did nothing whatsoever for my prudence and discerning judgment. I believed I had it figured it out, until infatuation sweep me off my feet, swing me between the high and lows in the momentum of the rollercoaster ride and making my stomach flutter and suffer at the same time. 
 
 
 
Dainty Beauty
He hardly showed up today. It's a slow day. He didn't reply my emails, we didn't e-talk in general. Nothing to see here folks, move along. Though to be fair, he often made it obvious that he's busy with either work, exam, ignoring me, papers, jerking off on his guitar (kiddin' but he is capable of that, believe me. In fact they were a paraphrased remark from him), or all of the above. 

:-(

So I became one of thooooooose people. Where having a crush is like the single, exlusive worthwhile excuse for them to blog. That is rather pathetic. 
 
 
Dainty Beauty
09 October 2009 @ 04:36 am
I must give an impression that reeks of desperation and angst. I just sent him another email. I might as well be talking to myself judging from how responsive he is to my emails. Most pitifully, my heart is palpating like crazy. It makes utterly imperfect, impractical, and ridiculous sense. I only know what he looks like, and I don't give a crap no matter how he says he's ugly and balding. I've never met him, but I've followed his every post and I like not just his well-informed opinions on things, but I am amused by his obscure, elaborately intellectual humor, which not a lot of folks get. He's an interesting character. It's only a coincidence that he happen to be "of age" to my infatuation standards, as are my previous crushes. A lot of mature, funny folks happen to be older. And that's what I like. 

OH FUCK HIM and his merciless and snobbish and sometimes condescending treatment of me (and other folks)! He knows I'm seeing a boy. But he also knows I'm barely in my 20's and according to his lack of confidence in younger folks, he would believe it a bad idea for young folks like myself to date too seriously. BUT FUCK. AGAIN. I didn't ask to marry him. I didn't needlessly trouble him with shit. Three simple emails inviting him to share his opinion with me, let me get acquainted with him at least. I may not be satisfied with that, but I'm hardly demanding much of him. 
 
 
Dainty Beauty
09 October 2009 @ 03:13 am
At least he gave me something to blog about. I haven't blogged for years because there was nothing worthwhile to blog about. I wouldn't call a self-deluding, fanciful infatuation a noble blog topic, but I recognize it for what it is and it gets things off my chest. 

I'd just really like to talk to him. Just hear from him once in a while. Why is he not replying my emails. Are they.....fuck it. I can't purport to know what goes in his squishy yet beautifully sophisticated and overly stimulated brain. 
 
 
Dainty Beauty
09 October 2009 @ 03:00 am
So I get it. He's more well informed about the ways of the world than I am and he's impatient with naive, simpleminded crap. But screw that, he directly told me that he'd take great talk over information and stuff.  If he doesn't find me a great talker, then I feel like he's really leading me on with a little more (maybe I'm biased, but it seems obviously a great deal more) attention than he pays most others. So he only talks to me in public, but ignore me in pm? What the fuck. WHY the fuck. Fuck you Robbie. Fuck you for real. I convenient blame you for my pains. 

Futile self addressed note: stop fucking obsessing, si vous plait. For serious. If I have insomnia, this will obviously exacerbate it for god knows how long, though I hope it's not long. Having a crush is the shit. Some people get a kick out of it, but I think unreciprocated yearning is some of the worst kind of misery that I wouldn't wish upon good folks. And bad. 


 
 
Dainty Beauty
After wacking all over my brains for numerous possible  (et plausible) explanations for why he wouldn't respond to my casual emails (deux total), even though he clearly showed unprecedented interest in me and everything I say lately after three years of informal interactions, I came up with:

No.1 He's not approachable. FACT.

No.2. He believes there's no point bothering with a young woman in her early twenties, which is possibly another sad fact for me, as he did state that he doesn't have much faith in anybody under thirty. My conceitedness genuinely believes myself to be excluded from the category he purportedly don't believe to have the conscientiousness that older people have. Well FUCK YOU TOO, old man. (I'd like to.)

No.3 There are no girls on the internet. He believes that claim. (NOT A FACT. NO FUCKING WAY.)

No.4 HE'S FUCKING TAKEN. (NOT A SURE 'NOT A FACT' but he never made mentions of having a wife or girlfriend, so he either doesn't or he's keeping things to himself, which may be like him to do. Then again, sometimes he doesn't seem reluctant to give gratuitous info about himself and his status either.)

No.5 He's gay. 

I'm driving myself crazy. I just wanna talk to him. I didn't ask to marry him. Doesn't he see that I have a crazy fetish for older men and he is the object of my infatuation? Not that I didn't indirectly insinuate it to him numerous times. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe he doesn't want to be an "object" of my creepy fancies. But ferchristsakes, we're not exactly strangers by now. We're not exactly on the talking term, like ever. But I'd like that to change. I want to keep trying, but also afraid that I'd look foolish in his eyes. I'd like to believe that my desire to speak with him is greater than my fear of rejection or ridicule, but there will come a point that even I'd give up.


 
 
 
 
Dainty Beauty
06 October 2009 @ 03:34 am
I am not rid of the mad and uncontrollable and all consuming fetish with older men in their 50's, give or take a decade. The most mundane details became something of urgent interest when it comes to the subject of an older man I like. Funny thing is, I hunger for it like I hunger for noodlehouse. It just never gets old, but it worsen over time, like an addiction. It must have began with my crushes on two of my professors, which surely is no coincidence. My dormant desire for older men have activated since then and I'm not sure if I can stop, even if sometimes these desires happen at inappropriate places and at inconvenient times. I can learn to deny myself of my fancies, reluctantly, just so I can feel normal. Or at least rid myself of my tireless obsession. But for what? 

I am infatuated. In the wrong place and at the wrong time. He doesn't even live in this country. And I'm sort of seeing a boy who can never be his match in my own biased and tortured opinion. The fetish controls my fancies and I am slave to it.
 
 
Dainty Beauty
09 March 2009 @ 12:00 am
Nice Guys
(lazy song writing at its best)
Vocals were done first


VERSE 1

Nothing is your fault
fancy yourself the underappreciated martyr
the usual victim to morally suspicious coquettes
leaves you a little bitter


Did you believe being nice is enough
does "nice" excuses your obnoxious behaviour
Did you believe you can do no wrong
that you can play the damsel's saviour

you hide your cowardice behind the Nice-Guy label
your conceit is barely tolerable
You believe you're some misunderstood martyr
'cept on you girls won't waste their tears


CHORUS 1


too much shameless self promotion
all to get some girl's attention
too much unwarranted self importance
a pedestral for every superficial attraction


nobody wants to hear
your holier-than-thou lectures
I don't want you anywhere near
like before

I'm sick of your complaints
sick of you playing the saint
This is why you finish last
just a social reject with no tact


VERSE 2


you're a nice guy, what's the deal
I believed in your, my sympathetic friend
I believed you were for real,
but girlfriends you plan to steal
so you're officially banned


don't take your issues out on me
passive aggressive
less than impressive
between jerks and insidious wimps
the former doesn't wear the guise of a victim


CHORUS 2

Don't insult my intelligence
you're testing my patience


BRIDGE

I'm just a girl
Not your ticket out of your loneliness
you try to take advantage when I'm hurt
can't wait long enough
 
 
Moodswinger: naughtynaughty
Muzak: FRNK Radio