C’est ça être mère?

mm, le plus difficile à écrire; je dois avouer que ça fait déjà 6 jours qu’il se tarde. J’ai l’impression que je vais vraiment pleurer quand ça va finalement sortir. Je suppose que c’est une bonne chose. Alors voici:

Ma mère avait peur, elle était inquiête. Elle l’est toujours et le sera (probablement / malheureusement) toute sa vie. Quand on ne se donne pas le courage de vivre l’amour au complêt ça devient plus difficile d’aimer. Surtout une fois que l’âme l’a vraiment connu l’amour. Et donc ma mère, qui me laissait partir avec mon oncle, ou mon grand-père; chaque fois voulait me protéger, me mettait un casque quand j’allais faire du quatres-roues, s’assurait que j’avais tout le matériel, s’inquiêtait. Elle pouvait bien s’inquiêter; elle savait ce qui allait se passer et n’a pas osé prendre de place, l’empêcher, intervenir.
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Ode to Alledani

Sometimes, I’d say maybe twice or three times a year, you meet someone from the stars. You know those souls that have known other things than what you find here on earth. If you’re lucky that person will have known life forms that didn’t even have bodies; if you are even luckier they will have known the collective consciousness state. Mind you it’s possible to live the collective consciousness here on earth, every crystal contains souls that are in that state; crystal as in Quartz for example.

When there was the great extinction of dinosaurs for example a lot of souls who had evolved quite a bit decided to go and live in crystals while life was redevelopping. I’ve met one woman, Fabi, who was once one of those big flying dinosaurs. I saw through her soul experience the extinction of the dinosaurs, the whole sky became gray, the sun left, there was dust everywhere and she ended up landing somewhere and going to sleep while waiting. The dust didn’t lift in her lifetime; she died, and went into a quartz crystal for millions and millions of years, she lived the collective consciousness state. She is so strong, Fabi. I care for her very much.
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C’est ça être père?

Excusez-moi, j’ai ben ben BEN du mal à comprendre. J’avoue que mon expérience d’enfant est atypique, mais j’ai quand même vraiment du mal à comprendre. Comment est-ce qu’un père peut, en toute conscience, apporter son fils avec lui, en fait plus PIMPER son fils à un prédateur sexuel dans le but d’exciter l’abuseur d’expérience pour ensuite bénéficier de l’état d’excitation en se faisant enculer (finalement!) à son tour? J’arrive pas à comprendre. Comment tu peux faire ça? Et mettre de la pression sur ton fils pour qu’il performe, pour qu’il l’excite comme il faut l’autre; et saouler ton fils, le préparer, et l’offrir au pédophile. Comme un cadeau dans le but de profiter de l’état suivant. Et regarder le pédophile enculer ton fils solide, ton fils là il saigne, il est hors de lui, et là le pédophile il a une idée du tonnerre, forcer le fils à sucer le père en même temps. Et là, pendant que ça se passe, il décide d’étrangler le fils, jusqu’à ce que celui-ci perde connaissance.

Je sais pas comment exprimer ça, l’effet que ça a eu sur moi. La suite c’est que mon père a eu sa baise violente; il aurait pas pu l’avoir s’il avait pas utilisé son fils pour exciter le pédophile. et moi ben moi j’étais au sol, le cul plein de sang, du vomis dans ma bouche, ivre mort. perdu. complêtement perdu.

J’essais depuis près d’une semaine de retourner ça dans tous les sens et je comprends pas. Quelqu’un peut m’expliquer? Quelqu’un peut m’expliquer comme ce même père a pu passer sa vie à me dire qu’il m’aimait et qu’il était là pour moi?

Ça marche pas là. J’ai vraiment de la misère.

Destruction, Ego and Letting Go.

Two days ago, or three, whatever. I was sitting with my friends Bjorn and Evan, in the Starbucks in the Exchange Tower here in bangkok that they call ‘the office’. They were working away; and I was suffering. Or if you prefer, I was letting the pain surface. There is something special about Thailand, because of it’s Buddhist roots, something less aggressive, more peaceful; which made me think over. I’ve been suffering in private, or letting the pain surface in private for years and years, sometimes I write about it, some of you might know; or do know, or know of the general subject surrounding it, you know ruff nightmarish childhood.

The problem with keeping the pain inside is that it influences my life, and more particularly in certain situations it makes me quite destructive of good things that could happen in my life. I did it again, about a week ago, I was destructive. Quite frankly it feels justified when I do, it is a way for me to claim control on a situation (ego) which is threatening some equilibrium I’ve gotten used to. Well; I fought being destructive with clients recently, or should I say I watched my tendencies go up and down and didn’t act on them; so far I haven’t been destroying any client relationships although the people at YellowPages have been pushing all my buttons pretty much. The communication is practically non-existent, I don’t get much feedback, they can’t seem to commit beyond the original project. They ask me things; I build them, and then delay after delay on their commitment.
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A botched delivery

Almost a month ago today, I was in my client’s office YellowPages Group. I was delivering on a module that would allow the integration of “conversation” as a means of communication in their apps. They called it the Tinder module; I call it Converse.

I was such a mess, so reacting, afraid to deliver, afraid to get judged, afraid I couldn’t deliver, afraid of being afraid. Such a scary moment. With my therapist I’d been working hard on exposing the wounds, to the point where they were just too much. The wounds are many.
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Human beings and board games

This will most likely be a short post; but i need to put it out there. I’ve never had much interest for board games; it never made much sense to me and I don’t understand where in life you’ll get much out of the ability of competing against peers inside of very limiting set of rules.

Then the other day I was in a minivan, from Koh Chang to Bangkok, on my left side there was mother and son, he looked like early 30s, seriously; she was early fifties. We were in the van for 11 hours (ouch) and they couldn’t stop talking to each other (in spanish). I mean you’d think that mother and son would know everything about each other, but no. 11 hrs. non stop. and then on my right, there was a cute chinese girl. The spanish guy really couldn’t live without his mothers love, and you could feel, when he looked at the chinese girl on my other side, all he wanted was to transition from being emotionally dependant on his mother to being dependant on another girl, preferably young and innocent so it is easier to project.
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Fast-Forward meditation; taking breaks during the sex act

This isn’t yet universally accounted for, but sexuality is the most powerful force in any living body. The urge associated with it is quite strong, and the stronger it is, the harder to control. A lot of people just want to abandon themselves into the moment, and become more or less unconscious during the act. That works, sort of. It isn’t super exciting however when you are with someone who is more sensitive than you are. And it is like trying to draw a beautiful picture with mittens on; or ski gloves. Not the best situation.

One thing you can try, and you can try this gradually; and picture it as if you are in fact taking the ski gloves off… is stopping while still ‘connected’ physically. This is known in tantra as some kind of exercise. I am not fond of technical sexual exercises in tantra to be honest so I don’t know what it’s called. Too many people use them to become better lovers. I am interested in the development of consciousness not the star rating on a future lover’s exchange website (wouldn’t that be cool tho?).
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Extending Female Orgasm – How To


Following yesterday’s post, I thought that maybe I could write a “how to”. You know, for those of you who haven’t slept around as much or tried as many thing; Normal people, who’d like to stay normal but would still like to enjoy this little perk.

I’m not calling this Extending Female Orgasm for Dummies. Yet. hahaha.

So, here are the pointers. First, it is a two person thing, until you completely master it. The woman would need to tell her man, that moment, when she is committed to orgasm. Normally girls would say something like: “OMG! I’m going to cum”. Yeah, that moment. We guys get it too; you know how it feels. Ask her to tell you. You don’t have to explain why, just tell her you feel like trying “something”. Now guys, when your lady screams that out, this ISN’T the time to start decelerating. Although if you are really fucking good at it, you can make her go crazy if you start decelerating now, and reaccelerate, and again decelerate when she gets close again, and accelerate again and yadiyadiyada. But that would be teasing and it’s an expert move. Trust me on this for now; I know a woman or two who would slap you on the face if you did it the on the wrong day.
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Why do you consider your orgasm as a finish line?

Where to start? First, an orgasm IS NOT a finish line. It can be so much more; but considering the state of sexual awareness and freedom in modern society, I understand why so many people treat it that way. Sex in today’s society is either glamourized (through porn) or scandalized (sexual trade, sexual tourism, pedophilia). We rarely hear anything about it concerning what lies in the middle, which is, normally, more balanced. Yet the beauty and the depth exist in this balanced state; you need calm and serenity to explore it.

To a lot of people, just ‘getting laid’ is quite the challenge. hence the need for pornography. and sex trade, etc. This is a subject that requires a in-depth exploration and I will write a post on that some other day. for now let’s concentrate on orgasms.
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Les vendredis soirs

Qu’est-ce que vous faites de vos vendredis soirs vous autres? Moi, je le passe en thérapie, parce que ça me prends 2-3-4 jours avant de redevenir complêtement fonctionnel et que je ne peux pas me permettre la thérapie le mardi .. ou même le jeudi. Je ne travaillerais pas ben ben.

Donc je passe mes vendredis soir à replonger dans les événements de mon enfance, ce soir c’était les événements de mort. C’était d’avoir la tête dans un sac de plastique, je me le rapelle transparent mais je peux pas vraiment vous dire. Je me rapelle de vomir dedans, ce moment quand tu te fais étouffer ou mettre la tête dans l’eau, ou juste avant de perdre connaissance tu vomis. Et que là, j’avais du vomis plein la face, collé partout, et que c’était dégueulasse. Et ces moments avant, ou je déborde d’aggressivité, la mienne et celle de ceux qui s’en donne à coeur joie sur mon corps, avec leurs grosse mains, leurs gros pénis; tout était gros pour moi. J’était assez petit. Un peu trop jeune…
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