I stared at this space for the longest time and I spaced out my mind long enough to not know what to write.

I am not good with dates. I lament constantly about men perpetual lack of interest in me, and yet I have to admit that it was my lukewarm interest in men(they are just sex-machines, you see. No, I am kidding, really).

I think, since a long while back, I have already conditioned myself to think that I don’t really need them.

I enjoy their kisses, their cuddles, their warmth, their company, and whatever that’s in between their legs which bring me pleasure(ha! ha! ha! This is VERY subjective, depending on how much I feel for the person, the size, the girth, the…. sustainability of the, uhm, tool).

There was a time, I enjoyed being taken care of, most of all. And I enjoyed caring for someone else, to spoil them silly, to just.. you know, pretend to be in love.

I have always been someone hopelessly romantic, and incredibly sexually sensual. But I realised how my cynicism has transformed me to the other end of the spectrum(cough cough).

Maybe when you block out whatever your feelings, and then, everything means less to you.

I want to date again, I proudly declared, say, 2 weeks ago, over MSN, mahjong table, whatever whatever, wherever.

I woke up one day and I promise myself I am gonna treat myself better in 2008 and a new year, a fresh start.

I decide to give myself a little more respect, be it I deserve it or not.

I decide I will not shortchange myself anymore.

With all the promises I made to myself, I feel stronger, and I also feel a part of me dying.

A part of the old me, which is so dear, so…. different.

But the thing is, with the strength I was bestowed, I feel that I don’t really need anyone anymore.

It was as if I was conditioned not needing anyone anymore. People know me always complain how much pride I have in me, and how stubborn I can be, and at those times I really wish I could succumb to the convenience, I would somehow dissuade myself from so.

Actually, I think it is because when I needed those most, they are usually unavailable, or too much of a hassle. But when they are readily available, I would have already learnt it is something I can overcome myself.

That, includes heading to the hospital by myself by cab when my water broke. Muahahaha.

(Oh fuckety fuck! OMG. DIE. OMG. AH. OMG. OMG OMG OMG OMG.)

I so shouldn’t have agreed on the gathering tomorrow night.

I sooooooooooooo shouldn’t have.

I am so hyperventilating.

Mr KG, apparently, will be there.

And… I am supposed to be introduced to my friends’ guy pals tomorrow night.

And… one of the guys I dated… will be there too.

I am so going to be cringing in utter embarrassment.

Oh I have a job tomorrow night too.

And oh, this is so totally random, but uhm… die, I haven’t done my Christmas shopping yet.

And my furniture shopping. Argh.

I digress.

Like I was saying. I would love to date again, but I am not sure I can get over myself to you know, date seriously.

And at this point, the romantic mental images of me crazily in love, is just, inconceivable. I would love to, but it is as if I have became THE commitment-phobe now.

I think I lost a spark in me.

And I wonder will I meet a guy who would date me without fucking me. And I was seriously thinking of making it a disclaimer to whomever I might date in the future. I am almost insane, I know.

But, I think I am just not quite sure I can fuck someone new/else after almost 3 years. I monogamy queen for so long, cough cough, not ready to lose my crown, you know?

Don’t get me wrong, I love fucking/physical intimacy, and I believe I am ravenous most of the time(no, you didn’t hear it from me. And NO mental images, please), but it is just that I don’t feel like doing it anymore.

But, of course, I don’t have to tell them that it is likely that one day when “feeeeeling”(not horniness hor, thank you) comes, I might just rip off their clothes in a frenzy for some fierce, passionate actions. But no pain please. Pain and intimacy just don’t go well together for me.

I think I just miss the sweetness of good ol’ dating days. Hang out, chill, do sports together, watch movies, strolls, cruising around. And it just ain’t the intimacy that appeals anymore.

I think I am looking for friends for keep, rather than just.. shallow relationships that don’t bring beyond myself.

Despite my daily claims of how horny I am, my brr brr is so lonely these days that it must be weeping in a corner of my drawer in absolute despair.

I think I am going to die a celibated spinster.

Oh. Am heading out now. Bye!

This post is so totally random that I don’t even know why did it exist in the first place.