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I apologize for neglecting this blog; even in my frenzied state, there were moments when I could have written, but I kept putting it off. Now that one account is finished, I found myself to be idle. And in that idleness, I panicked. I’ve been so used to burying myself in work, obvious to others that this is my way of moving on, that I don’t know how it is to be idle. I was suddenly not doing anything. There was a moment of silence…and then the demons in my head started to talk.

I’m fine, really. I just hate being idle. I want to work. Before doing so, I need to address something.

One reader comments:

You wanna know the reason why you always end up with the wrong men and you seem to always land on those shittiest guys girl?

It’s because you’re spoiled, you have too much air in yourself, and you overvalue your own worth.

To you you may think that you’re beautiful, seductive, witty, and all those things, but to the normal guy who has simple dreams of family and children, you are a disease to be ignored and if need be avoided.

To most loser-males’ eyes, you are nothing but a sex object. You have portrayed yourself as such and such will you be taken. A mere sex object, a toy, to be discarded once the initial thrill has passed.

You think you are mature, but to be honest with you, you have the mind of a 14 year old brat who seems to be just coming of age. If you truly had any semblance of maturity, then you will try to patch the pieces of your life and take a detour to what’s right and just.

You want to be respected and loved. Treat yourself as such. You want a man with honor and decency, who will uphold your dignity as a woman, wife and mother. Then start with yourself by removing those bitch lifestyle that you have. You want children who will cherish you and grandchildren who will cuddle next to you and lovingly call you Lola. Then start by doing what is good and just.

I do hope in your heart you still have the wisdom to see what is right.

Normally, I ignore comments on this blog. I get flak all the fuckin time, I’m so used to it. I would like to believe that the one who wrote this is bitter, terribly bitter. For some reason, his writing style is so familiar and similar to the emails I received in my inbox from this guy I turned down for being so, erm, “assuming” and “feeling close”. I could be wrong. It doesn’t matter.

Now, you bitter man, actually caught my attention. Woohoo. However, I cringe at the word “disease”. Surely, I can’t be THAT bad? I’m quite positive that there are a few who agree with this guy and I don’t mind, really. If there’s one flaw I have, it’s being too understanding and accepting. Okay, so that’s two. Seriously, because I understand where this guy is coming from, I won’t give him crap for it. But I need to say something in my own defense, and perhaps of other women as well who copiously enjoy this lifestyle.

The truth, bitter man, is that I dream of children and of a quiet life in the hills of Tuscany, where I can grow my own to-mah-toes and basil. I dream of a quiet wedding by the prairie, and no matter how hippie it can get, I want to be barefoot in my own wedding. Truth is, I dream of being a soccer mom, of shuffling my kids from school to ballet class, music class, soccer, whatever. I dream of being a good wife, greeting my husband with a blowjob as soon as he arrives home.

BUT, I have long accepted that I cannot conceive, that marriage is not for me as men are dogs and they will need variety at certain points in their lives. I am meant to be alone. I will, however, have lovers. I need love to live, no matter how make-believe it is. I will never belong to anyone.

I am an old soul, I belong to the old world. You’d be actually surprised if you talk to me. Most who found themselves talking to me could attest to this. I am actually nice. I am not an immature 14-year-old sex object as you think I am, in fact, you would actually wish YOU were single and YOU don’t have a 14-year-old daughter. There’s something about this blog that projects me as how you would like to perceive me. I won’t even bother to correct that perception. That’s the fun part, proving you guys wrong.

So, bitter man, what does it mean to do what is “good and just”? Does it mean chasing after my dreams? But after the premises I gave you, it is quite obvious that it is simply impossible. Then this blog will have to close, and when that happens, that only means one thing: I AM indeed living my dream.

Surely you don’t want that to happen? You, bitter man, who find yourself reading this? But I am your only guilty pleasure. I won’t take that away from you. I told you, I’m nice.

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