The Inner Slut

It's been months since I last saw Patrick the Pilot. I didn't think he'd call me up again but he did, yesterday. What's more, he rebuked me for not having kept in touch. After all, he said, we are good friends, first and foremost. I was blown away.

What is it with pilots, I ask again. I have so many pilots in my "little black book," so to speak. Of course, there's the fact that they do get around but do they all have to land on my lap? I must've been an airport in my past life...

I was going to write about Marge but I'll keep that for a rainy day. I'll just say that she said something that Terry asked her about me. He wanted to know how Marge was dealing with my depression.

So, Terry the Insensitive is not, after all. His apparent insensitivity was merely his way of coping with my depression. He is Scorpio, after all. Parenthetically, Marge isn't seeing him anymore. She got tired of his selfish, shallow attitude toward her and his fear of getting emotionally close. Speaking of depression, I glanced inside a Cosmo mag the other day and saw a list of signs, any which one should have you seeking professional help, or so the article claims. There were some eight in the list, two of which I recognized in myself.

Interesting. So do I go see a shrink? No, thanks. I just need exercise. Along with some good ol' fucking. The Inner Slut heartily agrees.

I've been craving for a tall mug of real coffee lately. Starbucks just isn't coffee enough for me anymore. I should have gone to Figaro's.

Yesterday, I went to the mall to get a new battery for my fone. When I got there, the shops were still closed, except for Starbucks. So I went in and got myself a grande of coffee, sat at a table and waited. I soon got down to my usual habit of reviewing shoes and people. Pretty interesting, that. You can tell a lot about a person from his or her shoes. And feet, ankles, toes. I don't have a fetish for feet but I do like to study people from down, up.

I sat there, waiting, smiling knowingly that I've often met men at this particular coffee shop in the not-so-distant past.

This was where I met Renaud, Mara's French guy. I wondered if he were still in the country. That was also where I met this other French guy who offered me money just because it was Chinese New Year. And Steve! Sweet Steven, although nothing came of it. I gave him to Marge. Jake, too, I met at this Starbucks. There was also LongJohn, a Brit, who wasn't exactly long.

I met my Dale at another Starbucks. Along with several others, of course. Considering my long and steady alliance with coffee shops, I should put up my own. I think I'll call it The Java Jive and sell condoms alongside breadsticks. Wicked.

I couldn't toss in the papers fast enough. The fire blazed with the same intensity that I hurled myself into law school.

It was 1993 and I had enrolled myself in the evening section, reserved for working students brave enough (or stupid enough) to dare to hurdle the demands of one of the country's premiere law schools. Some would say there are three; I say there are only two, one in Diliman, the other, in Makati. The Manila school, I have strong doubts about. Whether it was one or the other, it makes no difference now. It was a mistake.

I always prided myself in being brave enough to run over any challenge that found itself in my way. Or any opportunity that opened its doors to me. I took the qualifying exam and was pleasantly surprised to pass it. My parents were ecstatic, of course. My sister said that I should have read for the law years ago. I was already 29 at that time, having tried to make it into the mass media industry and found that the local economy had fouled up any chance of my getting a decent break.

The doors opened; I entered.

I fell in love with the study of law. It was all I expected it to be, and more. I learned how to study; how to discipline my mind; how to be intelligent. I will not pretend; it was not a sterling performance. I barely held on. And being the smart-ass that I was didn't help, either.

Being among brilliant people -- students and professors -- didn't help my extremely low self-esteem. I put on an in-your-face attitude and tried my damnedest to hang on. There was a policy, still in force this day, that should your average for the semester fall below a certain point index, you're out of the college. I always managed to stay a point or two above that index, thank goodness. It was tough: no fun, no sex, nothing but study and earn enough money to stay in school. But I got through the four years I spent at the college.

Then I left.

I got tired of the arrogance and the egoistic teaching styles. Most of the professors were experts in their own fields, admittedly, but they weren't in the classroom to teach. It was all a power trip. They regarded the students as upstarts who mistakenly thought themselves intellectually equipped for the task at hand (i.e., to understand what the professors had to impart).

From teaching, I went to work for a government agency, doing legal writing for the big boss. I learned a lot. It was also quite a distance from the school so I decided to transfer to a Manila law school. I went through four of these. It was the professors. They were not only egotistical power-trippers, they were also non-experts in the subject matter which they pretended to teach. At least, in my original arrogant college, the professors were recognized experts.

I finally earned my degree in 2000 from a diploma mill college whose passing rate in the Bar exams is something like 2%, and that's in a good year.

I took the Bar exams that year. I failed. I took it the next year with nothing to show for it. I took it a third time, with similar results. By this time, I was burned out, jaded and long broke. When finally I announced to friends that I'd had it and was moving on, they sighed in relief. I had dinner with some of them after this decision was made and they approved of the radical change in my appearance. As one said, I didn't look as if I was carrying the whole world on my shoulders anymore.

That was late last year. Since then, I'd been adapting, adjusting. It was only the other day that I finally decided to completely turn my back on the dream. As I said, I couldn't toss in the papers fast enough.

There were my photocopied references, texts, and review materials, carefully bound, lovingly pored over with colored markers, with notes written carefully on the margins. There were the course outlines, pages and pages of them, with digests of cases written on the backside in different colored ink -- blue, red, green -- for easier memorizing. There were copious notes on, and outlines of, the black letter law itself which I had painstakingly re-written in modern-day, sensible English and according to modern editorial policies. All for easier memorizing and in exercise of muscle memory. (I don't learn it unless I write it down.)

And then, there were my notes from my freshman year. Those were hard to let go. I felt a deep sorrow as I threw in sheet after sheet, the memories of those early days still fresh in my mind. I was so much younger then -- and so deluded. I watched as the fire devoured each page of a dream I lovingly wrote more than ten years ago.

Nothing of that dream exists now. My law books I plan to hide somewhere till I can either sell them or donate them to friends who still hang on.

From the ashes of my dreams shall I rise, reborn. I am renewed. Go forth and reinvent yourself and all that crap.

Story of my life. Needless to say, The Inner Slut couldn't care less. LOL!

I didn't report to work yesterday. I spent the whole day burning my bridges to the past -- literally. I took out all my paper files from work and school, and made a nice medium-sized pile. Then, my dad took out this huge metal drum and placed it out in a quiet, forsaken corner of the yard, for me to burn all that junk in.

First came all the outlines, lecture notes and sample exams from my years as a college lecturer. They all brought a big smile to my face as all the faces and names and memories came rushing back. It was a very naive time for me. I had all these high expectations of my students and of myself. I wonder where these kids are now; whether they're married, or into a second or third or nth relationship; whether they have kids now; whether they've achieved their career goals; whether they've made realizations about the world and themselves.

I will never forget this period in my life, as this is when I made a dent in the hearts and minds of young people. I will never forget the look in these kids' eyes when something I said in the classroom opened up their horizons and broadened their outlook in life. I made a real difference in these peoples' lives just by being myself.

There was a time when my students were fired up by lessons on human rights vis-a-vis students' rights in school. Was it Tinker v. Des Moines which contained the dictum that students do not shed their constitutional rights at the schoolhouse gate? The first thing they did, all three sections, was to exercise their right to freedom of speech and expression, and to peaceably assemble. Read: conducted a demonstration or rally against a disciplinary policy of the school which they and most of the student body felt to be most discriminatory and violative of students' right to due process.

I was, of course, panicked. I didn't want the entire thing to get blown out of proportion. I didn't want the exercise turning militant. So I ensured that I was present and regulated speech and expression. The entire college campus (it was a small Catholic college) turned out for the event in support, although there were some who opposed the popular stand. The kiss-ass people. There's no escaping them.

Thinking back on that episode, I guess I should feel proud that my lessons saw application in the life of my students. How many teachers can lay a claim to that. In any case, I like to think that that act of courage to stand up to one's rights and for one's principles shaped my students' attitudes about state and citizenship. I hope.

So did the school change the policy? I don't really remember. I think the policy got scrapped because of the arguments and negative reaction against it. Only goes to show that what was important for me at that time was the actual exercise of the right. I was just relieved that it turned out peaceful and civilized.

There were also some items way back from my high school years! A trigonometry notebook. And some stuff from college, like the souveneir program from the musical that I wrote and my club produced. That was a real trip down memory lane. My boyfriend then wrote the songs.

And then there was the stuff from law school.

Now, at this point, I realized that I was not just burning bridges to my past; I was actually burning a dream.

To be continued...

My blog list has changed. I've gotten rid of those that I no longer visit and kept the ones that I read everyday. Alexa's "A New York Escorts Confessions" is a very refreshing read every time. It's very honest and young, very open. There is innocence in her wonder at the world, yet deep insight often jumps at you at times.

Which led me to the realization that I haven't really been courageous enough to expand my scribblings (or rattling on the keyboard) to the deeper insights of The Inner Slut. One post in "Confession" which caught my eye was the one about BBW -- or Big Beautiful Women. I'm not exactly a BBW at 5'7" and 150 pounds. But for an Asian, that is big. I've always been a "big" girl or "tall for my age" in school. It didn't help either that I started wearing glasses at second grade.

The reason for the existence of The Inner Slut is the very low self-esteem that I had growing up. Family teased, friends teased, aunts and uncles teased, boys teased. It was all about my height and my weight. I grew up learning to lean on my supposed bright intellect. I've come to the realization and accepted the fact that, although I'm bright, I'm no rocket scientist.

Big people are generally funny and witty, simply because they learn not to take themselves seriously. Otherwise, it would be an extremely lonely world, indeed. Same with kids who grow up in problem-riddled families, or broken homes. Humor is used to take reality onto another plane, another level. Humor is another perspective from which to view reality.

The Inner Slut, therefore, is a response to the rejection of the society in which I find myself. The Inner Slut is my in-your-face response to this judgmental, narrow-minded society that rejects people who do not fit in its "mold."

The Inner Slut has bolstered my self-esteem radically. I have a confidence in myself that I never had a year ago, simply because I dared to recognize The Inner Slut. There still are times when I'm plagued by self-doubts, especially when I'm to meet a guy for the first time. There's always the body-type issues: Would he like what he sees? Would my body shape turn him off?

Whenever I start thinking this way, The Inner Slut turns around and slaps me in the face, yells at me: Would you like him? Would you be turned off with his body? Would he measure up to your standards?

Then I start to laugh at myself and the world.

Here's another good erotic chat with Tom. This was this morning.

Tom : as my sex slave I need and want my asshole rimmed really good with that tongue of yours, so before we do that I need to be cleaned out

Me : good

Tom : tell me my cunt whore slave how are you going to do this

Me : ooohh, wait...lots of lube before i slip my finger in your asshole to relax it...slowly...gently...then 2 fingers...mmmmm....got to get you ready for that douche, warm water and lactic acid to clean you out...so while i'm doing you with 2 fingers, i'm also stroking your cock...nice and hot and hard...mmmmm.....

Tom : yeah

Me : maybe suck on you for a while...love doing that...now that you're relaxed, you're ready for the douche

Tom : make sure the water is nice and warm...oooh yeah

Me : so offer up that ass to me, slave, high up in the air

Tom : fill me up BITCH! HERE YOU GO, cunt

Me : slowly push in the douche...slowly...gently

Tom : mmm...ahhhhh

Me : fill you up with nice warm water

Tom : yeah

Me : give you a little spanking for being too eager....and when you're full...

Tom : ooooh

Me : i stroke your cock a little more, while you hold that load in...not till i tell you to go to the bathroom do you go, slave...spank you a bit more...just because...LOL!

Tom : i won't

Me : but because i care for my slave, i let you go to the bathroom to relieve yourself...

Tom : I'll be good, my cunt whore

Me : and you better squirt out all of it before you come back to me

Tom : thanks and are you going to do it again?

Me : of course! a 2nd time...a nice full load again

Tom : good

Me : this time you're on your back...

Tom : tell me more, CUNT

Me : while i squeeze in the water up your asshole...

Tom : no, I can hold more doggie style

Me : don't argue with me, slave

Tom : OK

Me : i want to suck on your cock while you hold that load in...but now i want to play with your ass, so off you go to the bathroom

Tom : No...!...well, ok...

Me : what do you mean no? you go relieve yourself, slave! and come back to me, i want to lick your ass real good...mmmm....

Tom : OK but show me your clean asshole 1st

Me : you already saw that LOL!...even fucked it already LOL!

Tom : I need more...but not with my dick

Me : it's my turn, slave

Tom : OK here I go

Me : so on your knees...

Tom : mmm...nice and clean now

Me : with your ass high up in the air

Tom : Ok

Me : while i lick your asshole round and round

Tom : you bet master

Me : and when it begins to open up...

Tom : yeeeeaaah

Me : i put on lots of lube

Tom : mmmm

Me : then i massage the rim with the finger sleeve...

Tom : nice and open now

Me : the one you like so much...just on the rim

Tom : and does it gape for you

Me : oh yeah, it does now...nice and open...then i push in 1 finger...

Tom : goood

Me : wriggle it inside all around...

Tom : oooh yeah

Me : while i stroke your cock...

Tom : mmmm

Me : wriggling it inside, stroking your insides well...your cock is so hard now and your balls are full

Tom : wiggle and twist my cunt

Me : so now it's time for 2 fingers...your asshole is so open and relaxed

Tom : yeahh

Me : the finger sleeve feels so good in you...wriggling there inside you

Tom : you make me that way my sex slave

Me : but i pull my fingers out...

Tom : go nice and deep

Me : and tease you with the beads...the gel pink beads in a wand...you like those beads

Tom : yeah baby...ooooh yeah

Me : so 1 small bead in first...in and out...just to tease...and you love it, your asshole just keeps gaping open, asking for more beads

Tom : ah....feels sooo fucking hot

Me : so i slip in 2 more beads...then out...and in again...you love that dont you

Tom : let do it to each other 69 same time

Me : oh no, not yet

Tom : sheeeeeet...uh huh

Me : i take the 2 ended dildo...and shove the beads all the way in your asshole
Me : oh you moan and complain

Tom : ahhhhhhhh

Me : but i give you a real good spanking

Tom : ooooohh ahhhhhh sheeet

Me : as i pull it all out...slowly...one bead at a time

Tom : You're my hot cunt slave

Me : then i push it all back in...slowly this time

Tom : mmmm

Me : oh yeah...all the way in...

Tom : yeeeee haaaaa

Me : wriggling it all around

Tom : love it don't stop...yes yes

Me : so while it's deep inside you, i push the other end in my pussy...

Tom : yes

Me : and i fuck you hard and deep

Tom : that's it, baby

Me : hard and deep...all the way in...oh baby, that feels so good

Tom : I am so hard right now my ball are going to burst

Me : not yet, slave...hold it back

Tom : you betch ya

Me : i'm not done with you yet

Tom : yes master...good

Me : i'm gonna use the butt plugs on you...first the small one

Tom : oooh

Me : inside you while i stroke your cock...

Tom : good and stick on in your for good measure too

Me : i'm the one in control here slave, so shut up

Tom : yes master

Me : then i take out the plug and put in the next bigger size...and give you a good whacking for asking to use a butt plug on me while i'm playing with you...be a good slave

Tom : oh wow

Me : i'm gonna pull that plug out

Tom : yes master

Me : and push it in again

Tom : and

Me : out...then in again...out...then in again

Tom : mmmmm...yes

Me : oh but your asshole is so open by now, asking for more

Tom : ahhhh

Tom : can I cum now...mmmm

Me : then i get the biggest butt plug...not yet, slave, i'm not done with you yet

Tom : tongue, master, please

Me : i'm gonna shove that plug in...

Tom : good...and...

Me : and leave it there while i suck on your cock...lick your balls...and slip on a cock ring on you

Tom : ahhh feels soooo good

Me : then while that plug's still in your ass, you lie on your back

Tom : yes yes

Me : and i sit on your cock...

Tom : of course

Me : and ride that fucker for all its worth

Tom : mmmmmm so fucking hot

Me : ooohhhh that cock ring feels so good...

Tom : yes master

Me : tickling my clit...

Tom : deeper

Me : oh yeah....harder...but you're not allowed to cum yet

Tom : good god, I love the feeling of being full too

Me : so while the plug's still in you....

Tom : pleeeze...yes

Me : you watch while i make myself cum...and as i squirt my pussy juice out...

Tom : toooo fucking hot

Me : you cum all over my tits...and my tummy...all your cum on me

Tom : yes yes...AHHHHHHHH

Me : man, that was tiring...LOL!

Tom : big load to release...butt good

Me : LOL! so i slowly pull that plug out...

Tom : mmmm

Me : and i rub myself all over you...your tummy

Tom : and...

Me : and your butt...

Tom : ooooh love those tits

Me : i rub all your cum off me onto you...oh yeah...rubbing my nipples all over your ass...

Tom : on my butt and your nipples in my asshole

Me : oh yeah

Tom : shit, girl, you're killing me

Me : that was fun! get on over here, i need to ravish you...LOL!

I can't wait for this guy to get back to me. The last time we were together, we just didn't have time for the toys, really. Actually, we probably would have had enough time if we just weren't so hot for each other. We just went for each other and fucked our brains out.

Correction:

Sex and the City.

My apologies to the fans of the series.

Interesting. I was just reading all about Sex in the City's Carrie Bradshaw. I never watched the series although all my girl friends did. While they were watching Sarah Jessica Parker, et al., I was watching Will & Grace. Then again, while everyone else was watching The West Wing, I was watching The Sopranos. That was when I still had time to watch tv.

So, am I anything like Carrie Bradshaw? Yeah, I guess. Only, she's more successful in her career. And has lots more clothes and jewelry and shoes. And lives in an exciting town. And she's played by a beautiful successful actress while I'm just played by me.

So, will I now watch Sex in the City? No. I want to get that boxed set of the complete first season of The Sopranos. When I get the money. That could be a long wait.