Thursday, August 23, 2012

The Way To A Woman’s Vagina

I’m turning 28 in less than a month. Geesh… what a number! Whenever I think about all the things that I’ve done so far, I feel proud of myself simply because I’m still here. Shouldn’t we be all? Life’s hard. We make mistakes and feel bitterness and resentment for so many things. But, we become stronger, more able, and our lives can only get better if we believe so.

In the years that I’ve lived, I’ve been obliging. I’ve also been a bitch. I’ve been a mess and I did a good job of fixing myself up so I can make a mess of my life again. My failures are twice the number of my accomplishments, thanks to my imperfections, but I’ve become more ambitious and determined to succeed in whatever I have planned for myself. I’ve loved and lost, but I have no regrets. I’ve stayed safe for most of my planet time, mainly for purposes of self-preservation, but now I have this sudden desire to cross certain boundaries especially when it comes to my writing.

I want to be more daring. Heck! What do I know? I’ve never even been close to a mile away from tipsy, not that crapulence made my bucket list. I don’t know, but I just feel like being more open about my own take on some things that a lot of people still have problems discussing. Maybe I’m tired of emo-writing, or writing about writing. I guess I’ve gone way past that after all that I’ve written without realizing it.

I want to start today, with this blog post, but I haven’t decided on which topic to write about. I could write about my profession and how badly I want to crossover to an entirely different one (like bartending), or why I left the Roman Catholic faith, or why I support gay marriage and (ironically) support divorce as well, or about something so overrated like… sex.Whew! I managed to type the word. Lots of people have written tirelessly about it. I can’t wait to skim the Grey book and see what the cougar fuss is about.

Before I lead you bored people on with my aimless writing, I'll take a right turn and make this blog post worth its online space.I don’t have much to say about sex to write a whole page about it, so I might as well write about it now and probably, never again. It is not a part of life I want to draw attention to with my writing. As a (wannabe) writer, my aim is to give others something (else) to think about. I don’t want us thinking about sex any more than we already are.  

What about the deed? It’s done whenever, wherever. It is served at breakfast, lunch and dinner, or in between if you’re luckier than lucky. Bedrooms are overrated. There’s a puddle of mud in the garden (for Pete’s sake!), and the very private front porch. There’s an unlimited number of positions, but only a limited number of bones in the body to break. The only impediment to your next unfeigned orgasm is TIMING. It IS, like in other things, EVERYTHING.

So, how do you get to “there”? How do you get to have sex in the right place at the right time? The answer is obvious even to the oblivious. You have to be with the right person! How do you know if he/she is the right one? I have no idea. You can ask someone who’s married. But then, a lot of married people feel like they’ve married the wrong person. It’s one of the reasons why some are still out there with a broken leash on their necks. If you want to find the right person the wrong way, good luck. Affairs are the most overrated of them all.

All the vaginas can chill from this sentence onwards. Allow me to drown the penises of the world in my estrogen on their behalf. My perspective on sex is, unlike me, uncomplicated. It is too simple to be misunderstood. A normal vagina, which most women have, is always open- no gates, no barbed wires, no passcodes. The way inside is not a terrain with rocks, thorny bushes, and penile-biting plants. To legally enter its territory, you don’t have to do anything grandiose. You just have to show up and be exactly who you are. Let’s check if you’re following me. By “show up”, I mean always being there for her no matter what, loving her righteously in all ways possible. That’s hardly grandiose or anything at all if you really love her. In this aspect (prostitution aside), you get to choose “your” vagina. “Be exactly who you are” is a bit tricky. You have to be “the one”. On that aspect, the vagina "chooses" you.

Men have had the upper hand in society for ages. What they will is usually what’s done, but not in sex. Penis or vagina, we all want the same thing- an orgasmic experience in the right place at the right time, with the right person. Finding "the one" is enough to cover for the imperfections of any circumstance. For her to ALLOW you entry, there is only one requirement- her love. You don’t get it by forcing yourself in, by playing games, or taking shortcuts. The way to a woman’s vagina is through her heart.

If you are a penis who just wants to get laid, then that’s all you’d get from a vagina of the same kind. Casual sex is not worth the potential damage and drama it may bring. But if you are a man who, in spite of your worldly wisdom is yet to find his way into a vagina (figuratively, of course) of the same caliber, then in the words of the great Manny Pacquiao…

…”Now you know."  

 
*I’m not glamorizing pre-marital sex nor do I, in any way, promote marriage as some sort of a pass to have sex and risk being misunderstood.  I stated mutual love as the only requirement for making love because it REALLY is. Knowing and understanding the essence and purpose of marriage is never enough. Love is what’s needed to honor it every single day for the rest of your life. The level of maturity that one needs to love righteously is high enough, in my opinion, to cover both sex and relationships. If marriage is a requirement for either party, then the other can oblige at his own will out of love. People who are not mature enough to love righteously should not have sex, be in relationships, or get married.

 

 
 
 
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Sunday, August 5, 2012

Press F1 for Help (???)


My name is Hencel Lauren and I don’t have an appendix.

A few months after I bought my laptop in 2010, the F1 key came off. Other than my keyboard looking like a corn cob missing a kernel, it wasn’t that much of a problem. It’s not like it’s the Enter key or the letter H. I just kept the key and left it like that for several months. After some time, I started to be bothered about my keyboard being “incomplete”. I mean, what if I need “help”? What if I decide to sell it? So I placed the key back to where it used to be even when it can’t hold on to its place for long. It would come off occasionally whenever I press the ! key more than thrice, but my laptop looks good with it anyway, so whatever.  

It was okay like that for a while. Then, for some stupid reason during one of my not-so-lucid moments, I suction-cleaned my laptop with the dental clinic’s industrial vacuum cleaner. Yes, it sucked my very loose F1 key. I panicked and opened it and made my way through the abyss of dessert sand, dirt, hair, and all sorts of stuff. When I touched something sharp, I asked myself, “What the eff am I doing?” I could wound myself. It could get infected and it could turn into something “medical”. Did I ever get a tetanus shot? I stopped.

In the months that I’ve been using my computer, I didn’t need to press the F1 key, not even once. What’s it for anyway? What kind of “help” can it give me that I didn’t ever need in the past? I looked at my laptop and all the things it had gone through with my heavy fingers and felt a different kind of respect for it. I’ll write just one more paragraph before I start to sound really stupid.

So to get over this thing, I just thought of my laptop as myself. Like I said, I don’t have an appendix anymore but I don’t have to feel bothered about or incomplete without it. It could just be one of the many things that I could write about. And besides, if I need help for any reason, I don’t need to press anything. I just have to pray.










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