The Various Stages of Writer's Block

1) Excitement:

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Two hours later:

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2) Frustration:

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3) Excessive Pacing:

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4) Extreme Frustration and Fear that it will never be good enough or never be finished:

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And 5) The desire to give up and just throw the entire thing away:

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I hear people speak of how gay people are dramatic, that our problems are actually not a big deal, that they don’t matter as much. In high school, I had a girl tell me I was stupid for staying silent for gay rights, instead of something “actually important”, like suicide prevention or hunger. I couldn’t tell her about the times I had been cornered and harassed in school simply for liking another girl, or of how I had to move cities because of it. I couldn’t tell her about the “friends” I had lost, or how much it stung to be called “Faggot” in the middle of a silent crowd, and to have all eyes turn and burn me with their gaze.

As a woman, I am harassed by men who believe that they have the right to tell me what I should be doing. By men who have been raised to think that I should have been grateful for their unwanted attention, of how I should have been polite and gentle, and accepted their harassment. As a 15 year old, I was too scared to tell my mother that my boyfriend had tried to rape me, had taken a sense of innocence from me, because I had a Step-Father who would have turned it around on me and made it my fault. At school, I was labeled a slut, while he, he got away with telling it as a joke, telling people that he had tried to rape me. He got pats on the back, and laughs. While I? I lost friends, and was pointed at in the hallways. Gossiped about behind raised hands, and over keyboards.

As a lesbian, I am an anomaly. Countless people demand of me to prove my love, demand to know how I could love another woman. I am told that it is impossible, the fact that I have absolutely no attraction to men, how it is simply unnatural for me to find women as captivatingly beautiful as I do. I am told that as long as the world turns, I have to have an attraction to men. Then, I am asked how I fuck my partners. How could I have sex, without a dick involved, and enjoy it? Then, I am treated as an open book for this man to understand, that my sex life should be placed on blast, simply because I don’t want his dick involved. My sex life is constantly questioned, because it it different from the generally accepted way that sex should go. I am expected to be kind and gentle, to explain how it works, and then be grateful for someone’s acceptance of it. But, fuck that. Why should I be expected to be kind about explaining it, when nearly everyday, I am asked to explain it? Not even for someone’s understanding of it, but because for most males and even the occasional “straight” girl, it’s “hot” and it turns them on. They want to be involved in my sex life, mine. They expect to be allowed to join in, to be able to lay their hands on myself or my partner, and then for us to be grateful because we don’t have a dick ourselves.

As a human, I am offended. I should not have to prove my love to anyone. I should not have to explain how I see stars in her eyes, or the roses on her cheeks. How when I run my fingers over her soft skin, and feel her breath catch and her heart still for a second, it sends chills down my spine, catching my nerves on fire. I should not have to prove how beautiful I find her, or how she captivates me. I should not have to stand here, and explain to someone why I should be allowed to spend my life with her, just as a woman falls in love with a man, or how a man sees a woman. My love, is genuine. Just as much as anyone else’s. I have felt heartbreaks. I have screamed and cried over girls I thought were my one. I have healed and moved on, and grown as a person from them. Do not tell me my love is not authentic, simply because it is a love you do not share. Do not be so entitled to think that you can try to change my identity, or force me to give you what you want. Do not expect me to be grateful of your attention, simply because it has been given to me, that you find me a attractive enough to get it. When I hold my girlfriend’s hand, there is no need to stare. I am expressing how much she means, and that when we go out, I am so proud. Not because I’m gay or “different”, but because she finds me wonderful enough to hold my hand as well.

As a soul, I simply wish to stretch my boundaries as far as they go.

You know what? While we’re on the subject of badly written characters let’s talk about Hannibal Lecter.

A lot of people beak about Mary Sue characters, but no one seems to me a worse offender than this jackass. “Matches no known psychological profile” sounds an awful lot like simple inconsistency. Why is it that some gangly surgeon turned psychiatrist can literally never lose a fight with trained combat specialists? Even when he’s in his 50s? Why is it that he’s left in rooms alone with evidence, even when HE IS A SUSPECT? Why is it that he is constantly told shit he has no reason to know - that in fact is illegal to tell him? Why does EVERYONE inherently trust him despite him saying creepy and or damning shit literally all the time?

And in the face of all that, you know the most frustrating part? That he cannot be stopped or caught or killed. Can’t happen. Won’t happen. Until the appointed hour, he has complete immunity - any tension in the show is toothless because you KNOW Hannibal can’t be caught. And you KNOW Will Graham is doomed to failure, to ultimately be disfigured and forgotten or quietly killed.

The thing that bothers me the most is that Carter and Craig’s vision of Ted showing up at Robin’s window in the final scene could have been an act of complete television genius and could have been the most talked about final twist of a series ever had the not screwed up the love triangle between Ted, Robin, and Barney for 2/3 of the entire show and actually built to it during the whole series.

Bruneian Boys

Now I have to first admit to the fact that I have never ever dated a Bruneian guy. Never had a thing, nor a fling, with a single one of them. This is because I had zero self-confidence, absolutely none, until I was in university, by which time I was not living in Brunei anymore. My romantic experiences are limited to English boys (and the one, random Americano).

See, here’s the thing I have learnt about English boys (atleast the ones I have hung around), they are very, very aloof. They are too cool for school. They will not talk about feelings. They will talk about hookups and flatter you with shallow words such as “pretty” and “hot”, but there is such a build up to the point when they will finally not be so sensitive to the topic of feelings. It’s only when you take sex out of the equation that they’re forced to open up about their hopes and dreams and feelings. That takes skills, taking sex out of the equation without closing the door on them entirely, but it works.

So then I moved back to Brunei and into a completely different dating scene. For the first time in my 21 years of life, Bruneian boys approach me. They flirt with me. They try to get my name and number. It really is a very different approach. I can’t recall the steps they use in real life, because I usually try to forget the experience as soon as it’s over, but here’s a Bruneian smartass who decided Facebook messaging was a safe platform for flirtation.

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AM I NOT WORTH IT?

Kaming mga babae, gusto naming itrato kami ng mga lalaking mahal namin ng extra special. Okay, hindi man ganon ka-super special but atleast, enough to feel that there is love. Yes, we appreciate the little things more but that doesn’t mean that we don’t want those extra efforts. It will all be appreciated. Yun nga lang, hindi naman lahat ng boyfriend ay kasing sweet ng mga ng mga napapanood sa mga tv series, movies and books. Hindi naman sa inggitera ako ‘no? Medyo lang. :) Masama bang mag-expect na kahit isang beses lang mabigyan ng bulaklak? Masama bang umasa na may gagawa ng surprise para sayo? Masama bang umasa na may tutupad ng mga little wishes mo? Ni minsan kasi sa buhay ko, walang ganon. Kaya minsan naiisip ko, hindi ba ko worth it? Don’t I deserve to be treated like that? Bakit naman yung iba, kaya nilang gawin? It really frustrates me. Expectations can disappoint you big time kapag hindi nangyari. Nakakalungkot kaya. Pero hindi naman ibig sabihin na hindi ako kuntento sa kung anong kaya niyang gawin o kung anong kaya niyang ibigay, that don’t make me love him less, kahit nga yung existence lang nya sa tabi ko, okay na ko, pero kasi babae ako, hopeless romantic, naniniwala sa fairytales at happily-ever-after, kaya hindi maiwasang umasa sa mga bagay na katulad non.

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