Friday, September 13, 2013

Tired, not making sense

I'm so pooped. I can't sleep with someone else on the bed, much less on a fricken single-size bed, and I can't toss and turn without N waking up and trying to cuddle which just throws me off my whole sleeping pattern. I'm also horrible with jetlag...Thankfully N and I are actually so honest with each other, I'm gonna be more firm with him and tell him that cuddling can only be a pre-sleeping activity and after that I'm gonna gtfo and sleep on a separate bed. With earplugs, because he breathes really really loud.

I am getting more disenchanted with my job application process. Damn the states! It is almost impossible to get a job there being a non-citizen (years ago it would have been easy being enrolled into a US university). If only the economy there was actually doing well + they actually like diversity then I wouldn't have all these problems of scrambling to find a job outside of the US. All these "management associate" programs which I wanted to use as a two-year excuse to do a broad range of stuff while trying to wait it out till my passion "hits" me are all in the states and do not exist in cutthroat Hong Kong. Seems like if I want to work in Hong Kong, I gotta get into the banking industry as it's the only industry (other than design firms or hospitality sectors) that hires non-citizens. And now looking at my own country, it's been disheartening too realizing that many firms aren't looking for newbies at all, but experienced hires, since supply far outweighs demand now in Asia...

Fml. Should I just get a master's in some farcical bullshit? Might make me more employable. The job market now is terribly different from how it was back then, it is so difficult to make one's self unique in such a world now.

Or I was thinking - should I try out for some sort of journalistic stint instead? Although I majored in economics and finance, I honestly felt like I learned nothing useful from them, other than that economics and finance is a complete bore to me. And I really do enjoy writing, although some times I get the feeling that my style of writing belongs in some shit-ass self-entitled Thought Catalog-esque webzine, which is thoroughly annoying because I really do hate Thought Catalog and all it's ego-masturbating pat-on-the-back self-aggrandizing "25 things I wished I knew before I turned 25" typical horseshit advice that honestly c'mon guys, y'all got the brains to reach those conclusions by yourselves yah???

Sometimes I am really whiny.


Woke up this morning, fooled around in bed with N for a bit, and I decided to try and top for once. Problem was N was incredibly tense and I told him to relax his fricken sphincter muscle ("Dude my wang ain't that small you racist shit open up now!!!") but he kept laughing and saying he couldn't, and all that fingering with the yummy strawberry lube was for naught. Also, I really DO get soft when I have to put my wang into a butthole...Why?!?!?! Does this really mean that I have no choice but to always be a bottom??? I thought with someone like N that I am completely comfortable with I would be able to finally top but no...and bottoming still hurts so, so bad even with all the priming in the world, and it really does not help that N is honestly ridiculously thick (I am going to measure him one of these days).

Although honestly, I am perfectly fine if we don't have anal. I think N is fine with that to a certain extent too. It's just that it's frustrating that I can't seem to partake in an activity that seems central to gaydom. Everything else is wicked fun though. N worships my body lol, honestly it's hilarious how he does it, like he sleeps on my ass some times and says it's so comfortable like a pillow, or he licks my ear for like...5 minutes and after a while I'm like dude, wtf are you licking it's all licked up already hahaha I'm such a Debbie Downer. Our sex life, albeit with the actual buttsex, is actually really great because we're both horny all the time hehehe.

Went to the gym this afternoon again, wicked sick gym along Tot Court Road, and everyone there was incredibly muscular. However, I started realizing that I am developing more of a disdain for such people rather than in the past when I used to worship them. I'm beginning to feel that these dudes are way self-absorbed and their bulbous sizes make them seem kinda neanderthal, like a walking uterus of dangling veins and steroids. Very few are lean - many are just, for a lack of a better word, bulbous, and it isn't very sightly to me anymore, especially when compounded with over-pronounced veins and many tattoos along with what-will-soon-be leathery skin, I can't help but feel rather repelled by the whole thing. There are also many obviously gay muscle marys that spend like 15 minutes talking to each other by some machine and no one's exercising but all just yabbering on about whatever and all of them have pornstar bodies and pornstar butts and the whole thing is just very strangely disconcerting to me. Gym culture is so, incredibly weird. It is like a petri dish of self-absorbed sado-masochists served in one gigantic miso broth of...bulbusaura uteri.

Hah! How sassy was my previous paragraph yeah? Yah yah....bitch please.

It is also seriously amusing but also kind of uncomfortable listening to N banter on with his mom. I always assume that they are discussing something very grave and pertinent since the Farsi gets louder and louder, hands start flailing up in the air, and N starts repeating every sentence his mom says back to her in a voice that he thinks is imitating his mom, but honestly is just a high-pitched hamster squeal to me, and then I am let in on the fact that N is teasing his mom for being an old person wearing drabby clothes and she is defending herself by saying that her sweater is from Urban Outfitters and her shirt from Hugo Boss and she has no energy to fight with him because she has terrible IBS at the mo' and is starving herself to flush everything out, but she still shows me pictures of herself dolled up at various parties and asking me if she looks old and haggard in them. And I just sit there laughing my head off because the issue at hand is so terribly asinine ("N says that I am a piece of fat! No bones no muscle no protein, but just a giant piece of fat!") but Farsi just makes everything sound so serious and complicated.

Anyway, it is finally Friday, and N and I are probably going out to a gay club tonight. Or maybe, just like every other night, we'd stay in and just kinda roll around in bed haha. Man. I'm pooped. Gonna take an hour nap now. Peace.

1 comment:

  1. Before you decide on your career path, you should really think about what you want to do. Since you like to travel a lot, maybe something that has that as part of the job requirement. You don't have to know precisely what you want to do as a career, but when you get job experience, it should be somewhat related.