Dear 99,

Its been 23 years now since you helped bring me to this world, and I only have utmost respect and gratitude for that. And that is about it.
Seeing as your a professional mind reader, I should give you the benefit of the doubt when it comes to how you chose to raise me. I bet most daughter's do at some point. But by now we both know that I am no where close to what 'most daughters' are, and I certainly do not conform to their actions, weather I agree or disagree to them.

I never really took the time to write anything to you that held any emotion before. I'm not even really sure why. Part of me thinks it's because I learnt earlier on that you are incapable of expressing any form of 'love' for anybody, even yourself; while the other half of me thinks it's because I never really cared enough to 'let you have it' so to speak.

23 years have come and gone, and for some odd reason I feel I am compelled to calling you off your highly perched stool to tell you a little about yourself no one has ever dared to. Just as you feel like it is in your every duty to call me out, I feel as a daughter I am obligated to correcting your poorly matured personality for the sake of you having people at your funeral.

Yes, I know you can sit there and say you don't care, you have every right to pull that childish defence tactic: 'sticks and stones may hurt my bones, but words will never break me'. Heads up, this message is in no way meant to 'break' you in any form. Yet, if there is one thing all human beings must learn to ultimately accept, its that words are the most powerful weapon on this earth. So please, read on carefully.

Your need to be 'in control' of everything and everybody around you is so unbecoming and beneath you. Sure, you exude calmness and self-ease, but behind closed doors, you cannot really hide your real self from the people you live with at home. I'm not quite sure if it's just because you see that life is beginning to pass you by as the universe continues to push you along into the 'old people' bracket; or if it's because as a child you never were in control of anything, but whatever it is, I will not put up with it anymore.

Years living under your roof has taught me how to be annoyingly tranquil when it comes to dealing with personalities such as yourself. You see all, know all, and hear nothing but the sound of your own voice. Should the outside world throw you a curve ball, oh hell, you'll just go home and take it out on them!

Can you surely deny the many days in the when your favourite past time was picking quarrels with me? As a behavioural scientist, could you please explain to me exactly what that was all about? Even if you try to be as objective as you can, I'm sure there is no valid explanation beyond the fact that you have unresolved 'daddy issues'.

Let me jog your memory a bit to the days when you enjoyed picking other people's personalities to pieces, cornering them with self doubt and insecurity. What kind of person is able to uphold a fight with someone thirty years their junior and be beaten at it? Don't you not think that it is high time you took your pen and paper and gave yourself an evaluation? Heck, you're even lucky to have me in your life. Give me a couple years to get that doctorate, I'll gladly take you through it- F R E E OF CHARGE!

Go ahead and try to deny the fact that you are the kind of person who always has to point the finger at somebody else. I find it so hilarious that you should be so good at it. In fact, you are so expertly good that you forgot what you told me about finger pointing: remember that there are always four other fingers pointing back at you. I may sound like a spoilt child in a fit of rage aiming back at her father, but dude, it's high time you heeded to your own advice for once.

You amaze me with the way your whole entire life has evolved into one huge contradiction. I may not be as wise as the your past, but I am your ticket into a comfortable future and there will come a time when you will have to trust your entire well-being in my 'irresponsible' hands. Weather or not you like it.

If there is one thing I can promise you; its that I will give you what you deserve. Nothing more and definitely nothing less. You can have all the material comfort in the world, but at no one period in whats left of your miserable life will you have spiritual and emotional peace.

This promise I keep glowing in my heart is what gives me serenity at times like these. Times when I just want take that baseball bat you so trustingly keep besides your bed at night and use it as a sledge hammer to smash your head right into your pillow. Times when I want to mix up a dose of something lethal and slip it in your dinner while you stare at me like I was the worst thing that happened to you in your life. The truth of the matter is I just want you out of my way, but the promise I hold in my heart keeps me from doing any of this. The promise in my heart holds so much more satisfaction of watching you suffer at my will. The promise I will eventually turn into a reality will take me another couple of years until the day I will implement it; revengefully getting back at you for all the wrong you inflicted on me.

So, for now publicly ridiculing you on a personal blog will have to do. It seems to be the best remedy for my anger these past few years. I don't really care if you come across it or not, I'm sure others have read and internalized previous posts before. Nothing seems to stop these words of mine, clearly nothing ever will. I'm just sorry that the rest of the world now sees behind that phoney act to what you really look like. I could almost feel guilty...or NOT!

Sibling Rivalry

One can only begin to break down the complicated bond between a brother and his sister, more so if the two were forced to grow up in a household with no other sibling to fall back on. The many years in which they spent bickering and making up intertwine themselves into an intricate ball of emotions that should best not be tampered with by the outside world. But how far should any sibling go when trying to correct a fault of another, how harsh should their language be when attempting to drive a point home, how brutal should their efforts seem to keep the other out of harm’s way?
My devout readers, this brings me to today’s posting- which has no doubt been a puzzle piece in my mind’s eye that I just cannot seem to place. When does sibling rivalry turn sour, and when it does, is it a bitterness one soon adapts to? I won’t lie; I myself don’t have the answer to any of that. The best I can do is roll it around and offer it back to you my audience and see what you make of any of this.
Now, we all know that the internet is a vast encyclopedia, full of different websites for this particular topic among others. I found that when tackling this topic most of them were more geared towards targeting parents with children at opposite ends, but what about the person experiencing it first hand? After endless hours of pouring over what different blogs and Parent Help Sites had to say about this, I landed on a short article written in Wikipedia which simply summed up- as well as helped me understand a little more- this whole business.

Knowing that sibling rivalry is basically a type of competition amongst brothers and sisters is only one side of the coin. As I have been told many times before, I like to find the cause of most of the things that occur in my life time. Well, Wiki put out some pretty interesting reasons for it ever occurring including birth order, different parental treatment, personality and the like. The bit, however that caught my eye, was where it was noted in black and white that the more intense sibling rivalry was more eminent between siblings of very close age, same gender or… get this… where one child was more intellectually gifted than the other.
Bingo! That just about did it for me and lifted my emotional state without dampening my spirits. I know I am one to be criticized of holding my esteem in the highest of regard, but this time how could I have possibly been wrong if a well known child psychologist came up with that?
Could the answer to all my stress these past couple of weeks be lying in the mere fact that intellectually I am stronger than my brother? Maybe this is his way of 'measuring up' to my might. Still, loosely throwing about harsh words like ‘slut’ and false accusations of me not being able to keep my ‘panties up’ should not arise in daily conversations should they? Should this younger sibling of mine be telling me how much to drink and smoke as though he himself does not waste himself silly every chance that he gets?
Despite his weird efforts to keep his sister ‘grounded’ I honestly think this kid needs to be taught a lesson, which no one else but me can give him. Sadly for him, he has no other sibling other than me and if he were to piss me off at this stage in our lives- I pity the remainder of his existence. Still, I must take my place as the older one and continue to guide this erroneous fool through the path called life with as much love and care as a bear would have for its cub. I just do not know how much longer I can tolerate this pompous nature, ill-mannered behavior, disrespect and all together explosive view of his own slightly chauvinistic ego that has all manifested itself in what used to be my very sweet brother.
If my own brother were an avid blog reader (or any other kind of basic reader for that matter) then I would be in slight fear of posting this particular piece up- fear of letting him in on what really goes on in my mind. Seeing as he probably has about three more good years before he develops the slightest love for reading blogs I think I’m pretty safe.
Now, back to the fun stuff!!

Gifted Jazz

Bumped into a Gifted group on Facebook and it got me really excited, and reflective and defensive all at the same time. Here I was scrolling down the pages, reading the words of other gifted individuals, most probably more than myself and I couldn’t help but throw my up my defense when I read the words :
“I like to think that being called "gifted" means you went to a gifted school.”
Without even thinking I must have written a five hundred word essay telling this ignorant mind off and I wasted no time posting it. How dare he imply that the only gifted are those put in institutions that recognize such individuals? Should that mean that Einstein and Beethoven were all not gifted because they, too, never went to a so called ‘gifted’ school?
It must be almost absurd to still feel the tinge of anger only now ebbing in my soul, three days later! Still, I just want to get it out there that such biased statements, unashamedly put forward are meant only for the Non-Gifted who can only try to understand the complex and unprecedented nature of a gifted person.
Should I break it down for you, Her Royal Naughty-nez Style?
First thing that popped into my mind was that this self-proclaimed so called ‘gifted’ person shat (past tense of shit, lol) in his own pants the day he publically stated who was and wasn’t a gifted person. Who even says such things? So would that mean that a whole bunch of us are not gifted simply because we didn’t wake up every morning, get dressed and walk into the doors of a building built to accommodate other people like us?
I know for one thing, that as a result of this ‘gift’ we tend to think very highly of ourselves. We think we’re superior to everybody and everything around us, including other gifted beings. Does that mean, therefore, that we all have the right to thrust our chest outs and trample over other people’s egos as we boast our elevated intelligence?
Save for lack of human emotion and humility, where do people get off on this kind of thick arrogance?
I sat back in my swing chair and thought about what was whizzing through my mind for a second. It’s not unusual for me to get all heated about something without thinking things through- and before I got off on telling this person on the web what I thought, I had to make sure I at least had reason to be offended. I thought about people in other countries around the world, other gifted people who were not recognized in their uniqueness. Apart from the fact that you can boast of your academic journey in an institution full of beings uniquely different, what else was there? Nothing.
Personally, I think the truly gifted person is one that sticks it out with the non-gifted. One that is so well masked that to the world; they are just another pupil sitting in their classroom with nothing more to offer. I believe that, to contain yourself in a shell so much smaller than your own, to have that kind of discipline, tolerance and all together meekness yet still believe in yourself enough to develop your gift is ultimate giftedness.
Just because you’re a little different from the person seated next to you in the bus, doesn’t mean that he/she should tremble at your feet every time you open your mouth to say something. Sometimes being gifted isn’t all about you; sometimes it’s about what you have to offer the next person besides you.
One thing is for sure though, just because you started playing Piano when you were six doesn’t mean I’ll appreciate you more than another person who spent their whole lives practicing and studying it. Who knows, I could have started playing it when I was five! We gifted people have to know that we have a co-existing relationship with the non-gifted. Who will appreciate our talent if we don’t?
Keep it in mind that: No man is an island, hmmm?

Lonely

Ever noticed just how much we complain whenever we’re in a relationship with somebody? Ever wonder why we’re there to begin with? The answer is quite simple folks, it’s because deep down inside, we all just don’t want to be lonely. Even the hard muffins out there that don’t want to admit it will just have to agree with me on that one.

I haven’t had a real relationship in what almost feels like a decade, so naturally I turn a jealous eye whenever I see my friends in one- be it good or bad. My last attempt at loving somebody, ended two weeks into our bliss, he had to run off to Canada to pursue the life he had before he met me. Sometimes I want to just kick myself in the ass at the thought of how vulnerable I made myself, other times I smile and remember the way he made me feel inside. That was that anyway.
Being single has its perks, however, let’s not deny it that. For one, I don’t have to answer to anybody; I do as my soul pleases. Free to wear what I want, associate with whom I want, go where I want when I want to; still the thought of restriction, I must admit, is increasingly appealing to my mind’s eye.
Getting back into the dating game, now that’s the problem. With so many fish in the sea, I’m feeling very much nauseated at the entire variety I have at my disposal. Of course I’ve turned over a couple dead and rotting ones; we all do at one point or another in our lives, and trust me I got rid of those stinky carcasses faster than any girl could scream “eeew!”
As I pause to recollect my thoughts and whip u another paragraph of half-baked sense, I have to confess that the reason I’m writing about a subject so delicate, so unlike me to discuss, is probably because I feel loneliest at this point in my life. Having just finished University and watching most of my friends move on in their intimate lives, I can’t help but long for one of my own.

Goodbye...

The world has said farewell to another great.

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there was something back in the sixties, a certain fever that spread throughout the world that’s gone and died on this generation. Of course, coming from a member of this generation I might sound insane or stuck up about any of it, but to a person from the other generation, I might sound a tad bit ahead of my own.
People like the Beatles, Bob Marley and Elvis were born, fighting to make it in the world. Would they have ever known that their Musical contribution to the world would linger on for generations to come? And now, Michael Jackson joins them, living on as a legend while the rest of us patiently wait until our time has come.

When Michael first hit the scene, at the age of five or six, there was no doubt in any persons mind that the tiny, high pitched voice of a boy would be much bigger than he started out. Growing up in front of the camera could not have been easy, plus the fact that he had his own weird preferences and tastes. Never the less, he continued to preach unity, and love and happiness through many of his greatest compositions. Then there was the occasional song about a reality in life, an issue that needed to be discussed.

In between his marriages, and freakish race change Michael never stopped delivering the world what he promised: the best. In every aspect Michael was, and still is, the best. Every single dance move my generation has come up with begun with that man. Hip thrusting, shoulder shaking and head bobbing group synchrony was born with the King of Pop; sadly he has had to leave it all behind.

The world has said farewell to another great. Another exceptionally gifted human being whose talent literally was the only thing that could kill him and it did. Michael died trying to get back in shape so that he could give the world one last performance; he died with the only thought in his mind to please humanity; this legend died doing the one thing he was clearly out on Earth to do: entertain.

To all fellow mourners out there, no amount of tears will ever bring him back. To wish that he were alive, and someone else taken in his place instead, would be selfish on the basis that Michael Jackson is now with Allah, he can now rest and live the rest of his spiritual life away from the camera. He deserves it; he has done his time here on Earth and gracefully bowed out.

Michael, we love you and know that you’ll continue to rock our worlds even from above. I just want to say thank you: thank you for giving us your Music, and your passion for expression. Thank you for refusing to give up, even though no one else could have understood the pain you must have undergone just trying to get back in shape to make us happy one more time. Thank you for touching our hearts and souls the only way you knew you could. Thank you, Michael, for being a living example of Musical Excellence.

Michael, may you finally rest in eternal peace. God bless your musical soul.

A Diamond in the Ruff

Ever stumbled onto something you never expected to find in a pile of soot? Disguised underneath thick layers of refuse, a diamond’s true glow could never be less glamorous. Still, patiently it’ll sit over hundreds of years as it rises to the Earth’s surface waiting to be discovered by an eye so keen on looking out, for even the slightest glimmer.

You are my diamond in the ruff.

Blindly stumbling through the lists of boys I have over the years, my eyes had adjusted to the dimness of their glow. Littered around me like a junk yard, these once-prized-now-forgotten wisps were no longer of priority to me. Little did I know that in the midst of my evolution, the very principles on which I govern would evolve too; bringing me to a point I never thought would come to be.

Attractive shapes and impressive weights were once the measuring rod I used to sort the scrap, wanted from unwanted. Surface value was of much higher demand in the market than durability, quality and strength. How smooth was it’s surface VS how long will it last was the order of the day.

At the bottom of the junk, beneath layers of tainted stones amongst thousands of look-alike gems there sat this one lozenge more unsightly than the rest. Deep lines of imperfection ran down his middle ending in cracks visible enough to any human eye. That alone brought face-value down three notches, “how could I ever get anything from that?” I thought. But even with a facade so stained by his mistakes, his reputation flaking beneath the sheer pressure of the rest- there lay the brightest diamond in all the ruff.

Mined by other collectors, tested and thrown back into the scrap pile, the Diamond could almost be confused for a useless piece of morsel. But to an eye so keen; defects or none, a spade is a spade. In a fit of my hunter-persona, while rummaging through an old collector’s waste, I stubbed my toe on this precious revelation.

I found a diamond in the ruff!

Humbled, fragile and worn out with only traces of his entire journey lacing the fascia, my diamond sat there plain to my eye in desecration. Although another collector has come to pass, snatched my diamond and claimed it for herself, I still have the memories of fragile beginnings of something special. One day, perhaps in the near future, or the long distance I will get my diamond back, in which ever form- and we will be united once again: collector and stone.

Used

A whirl-wind of romantic tension and feelings of love budding in the nips of your heart keep you up late nights and composed during your days. Numerous phone calls and a dozen messages fuel your necessity for love; feed your desire to love someone else and complete the circle.

Then you go out on a date, and giggle more than you actually should be. You’re eyes are glazed over with admiration, your ears tuned in to the praises and phrases that suggest something more. The night flies by fast, with you clutching to every passing moment as if it were your last. You know this feeling.

How can you see nothing wrong?
How do you hear nothing wrong?
Why won’t you speak of nothing wrong?

It could only mean one thing: you have fallen for the person before you. Your thoughts are diverted to him; if only they would give you some sort of ‘sign’ back. And then, after a long wait and nights full of doubt, the words you’ve been waiting for come tumbling out:

“I like you”

Offered to you in plain context, these words are thrown at you in a bar; delivered to your ears when your consciousness is close to dead. Drunken happiness gets the best of you, and you don’t need much explaining- your mind will process the rest of those papers for him…free of charge, and with no taxes.

Things move fast, faster than you would have anticipated but you’re scared that if you slow down your step all may be lost for good. So you throw your head back with a smile etched across your face and enjoy the moment as it passes. Your heart beating proudly, your soul at ease with another’s- your body at the mercy of this man, and a prayer to God that “this will all work itself out”.

The morning comes round, the deed is swiftly done. The papers signed, the shimmer all gone- the truth ebbing its way into your thoughts. As you sneak out of the house and sit in the cab, you wait for a word- anything that will prove you wrong on this one. When it doesn’t come, depression sinks in as the thought of alcohol at this hour develops into a necessary method to cope.

Could this really be happening?

Days pass, no words exchanged. Only answers to the neutral questions you pose. His affection has walked out the door and slammed it in your face. Taken all his suitcases, and will never look back. Yours has outstayed her welcome. It’s time you realize your place is in the kennel, far from him.

Grasping, barely, onto what pride you have left, you clear your throat, delete his phone number and texts, take a deep breath and venture out into the world continuing your journey in the hunt for something ‘real’. Wounded inside like a puppy incapable of looking after itself, you put on your game face, manipulate your charm and jump back into the diversion.

Promising yourself not to let this secret out, you lock it up in the chest of forbidden secrets and try to forget it all together. Simple conversation with this man proves to be easier than you thought. Even if the world doesn’t know, he still does. The truth of the matter is:

You were used.

Spring Cleaning

It’s been a while since I gave this page a piece of my heart’s core issues. A lot has been going on in this Nalicious World of mine. I have sieved out the good from the bad, and I am still doing so in, what a very dear friend of mine calls, friendship ‘spring-cleaning’.

Talking to her is actually making this whole process seem like it’s the right thing to do, for me. While on one side, the world can look at me and condemn me for picking and choosing who stays in my life, her side suggests I should put on my gloves and a raggedy old dress, get down on my hands and knees and scrub till every last speck is gone.

My garbage bags are full right now. Full of angry and ungrateful people who think I am the biggest Bitch since their high school Mean Girls squad leader. I got news for them: I am the leader. I really don’t give a hoot because for once in my life, I can see things moving forward, and the people I have by me have their lives moving forward to!

It would be so hard to tackle this all on my own, but with every day that passes my ‘Moving Forward Army’ keeps growing with more exceptional candidates whose Life CV shines so bright. See, the way we see it, it’s time to get a move on here. Acting like we’re a bunch of unattended to, irresponsible hormonal teenagers from single sex schools that have never been given an ounce of responsibility for our actions outside of the school compound, is not what we’re about.

We are aware of the repercussions of our choices;

We accept the responsibility that comes with these decisions; and most importantly,

We go about executing our duties with a sense of pride any decorated officer would his.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we’re better than the rest of the world, but we sure are on the path to being better than them- and personally thats enough fuel for miles!

Softie

I have always felt like you were hiding a softer side to you than you let on. It tickles my toes to know that you actually do. And I am not just saying this. I actually saw for myself whenever you were being teased by your friends, whenever we hung out and even at home; it just seems to me like whenever you are around me a layer is stripped.

I think naturally, you are a very touchy sensitive emotionally-connected person. Like I think that is just part of your personality. Surprisingly, I have a bit of a reputation for not feeling comfortable around touchy people. I like my space and freedom, I’m not really one to feel liberated within the confines of someone else’s grip or hold or whatever. The reason, though, I find it so attractive on you is because your touchiness is not awkward or geared towards having sex, not even fueled by a sexual anything. It is actually quite intimate, with a sort of base to it and the best part is it is all automatic- not this forced mechanical thing other people have going on, lol.

Having said this, I must point out to you that I love detail so I will not be told that part of your personality is not what I think it is. Hehe, after all, we are all entitled to our own opinions aren’t we? As long as it will not have a negative impact on whom we are as a couple, it doesn’t hurt. Right?

Do you know that you are the first person ever to take your time with me? Yes you are! You’re also the first person to ask me to promise you anything. There are a couple more firsts; among many are your beautiful vows that I cannot seem to get over. The point is, I have noticed that you actually get a tang of jealousy, get hurt, and avoid arguments and some other stuff. That makes you a Softie.

Softie, softie, softie!

I Almost Forgot

Can somebody explain to me why people I least expect appreciate and applaud my gift as a whole set of special talents? Why, if you so dare to explain, do the rest of you reduce it to a 'thing' that you think you can easily acquire? Do you actually think that if only you keep tearing off pieces of me to invest well, you'll one day outrank me?

I'm thankful to all the individuals who respect my Naliness, and in turn I respect their themness.

What I am not thankful for are the people around me who, as I have painfully come to understand, lack the unique component that makes one person different from the next: respect. I read somewhere that similar to how language influences perception, different ideas of uniqueness are defined by different ways of thinking especially in areas of creativity and problem solving. How can anyone expect to understand the mechanics of being special if they don't even have the basic acknowledgement of another person's gift?

I don't understand how anyone could actually think they're one step ahead of somebody else after plagiarising their efforts. I think that we all eventually must learn how to understand, appreciate and preserve another person's 'intellectual diversity' as they we do our own, period. Only then, can any of us be in the proper mind set to embrace the concept of uniqueness as a result of the different ways in which we are all taught to think.

How is any of this relevant? Well, I can tell you for one, failure to adjust in another setting or teaching environment as well as lacking the skills to help you fit in is as of a direct result of your own intellectual ignorance. You make your bed, my sister, you lay in it- would you really want to be in a bed no one else would want to make?

Trick question there people!

In the whole time I spent running around trying to dish out bits and pieces of my intellectual strength, I almost forgot about my gift that was realised earlier on in life. A set of talents so embedded in my personality, what would I be without them?

I almost forgot about the sudden rush I get just writing something and having someone else read it and feel the emotion I was intending for. Being able to manipulate the use of words does not come by accident folks.

I almost forgot how empathetic I am, how deeply rooted in other people's lives and emotions I am. Who else could tell theri story wih as much passion and fire as I can? Its no mistake I'm open to their channels of feeling. No mistake at all!

I almost forgot how much I loved to read and learn new things faster and more broadly then my peers. It makes me giggle just thinking about it, more like a game to me than a competition. Storing facts, useful and not alike comes with ease. If you have space on your hard drive, why keep it empty? I say fill it up!

And all along this blog started out like an experiment. I read back through the posts and I can't help but smile- its just me and my confused self expressing my talent with a corky, twisted sense of sarcasm and humour for the world to read. I sometimes wonder...

How could I almost forget the skeleton of my personality?

Unveiled

After almost seven years you have finally proven to me that you cannot and will never be able to think beyond the capacity of your own selfish needs. Its a pity for someone to be so stuck in her own rotten shell that even when she gets to that point of recovery she is to engulfed in her own stupidity to realise that enough is enough.

How could I have been blinded from you faults for so long? Issue after issue, day after day, year by year; you have done nothing but sit there continuously pile up you demands, hate the world for reasons best known to you and tightly wind up your web of woe as you hungrily wait for the next sympathetic snack to suck the life out of.

You suck and you drain and get another loving human being so repelled from you ways that they throw up any sort of friendship you might have had or were about to receive, like hard liquor drunk to fast by an inexperienced drinker. I used to feel empathy for you, I took so long and made so many excuses for you awkward ways before I stood back and said: "Hey! I think this Bitch deserves whats is actually coming to her."

And now that I have, I see nothing but a selfish opportunistic spoilt brat who goes around making everybody pay for the own misery she holds in her cold heart. Instead of dealing with the root of the problem, you just had to push me to the max and as a result you lost one of the best-est best friends you could have ever had in your whole entire life time.
I sure hope it was worth it...

REMIX: You are...

A Darling: the dearest of the dear; a dangerous edge to you has rocked my senses and rooted itself in my heart. You are a delight to be with, your every word leaves me delirious with excitement.

So Energetic: Your funny and easy to be with; you have me ecstatic whenever you are around. Hanging with you is a total high, a joy ride I don't want to get off of. An 'each' in 'they': an individual amongst a crowd.

A Narcotic: I cant get enough of your never ending happy-go-lucky streak of happiness that you ooze. Your subtle naughty ways have me in check...I'll definitely be around for a while, kuz like a drug...I'm helplessly hooked to your height.

So Irresistable: I cant spend a day without hearing from you. I dread the thought of you ever leaving me whether for school, or a holiday...even a work assignment. Hugging you is something I do against my will sometimes, I'm just drawn o you by some other kind of force that I just don't understand.

Sssseexxxyyy: In a sensual and seductive way, you take your time to get thin gs done with me. Its like me and you matter at that moment and no amount of crisis is going to rush you into getting done with me. Your sensuality becomes you and your personality.

I am truly amazed.