Yesterday I had a hard time coming out of the dentists. My mouth was numb and I was drooling blood. I looked down and saw blood on my clothes and on waiting room floor. I felt like a monster.

I called my sister,

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 outside, and she picked me up. She was so nice. I told her to read the Fountainhead. We talked for hours. We went to Cheesecake factory, and I had guacamole made to order with chopped tomatoes on the side, no chips, no salt. She had a chicken burger with Fries. We talked about my mom, brother, and dad. Also, about our dreams.

She got sick eating the food. (My mom got sick eating mushroom burger at the Cheescake factory too.)

She told me thanks for something I do not remember. She said in first grade she was supposed to write a report , and everyone's families helped everybody do their report, and my parents told her they would help her, but forgot, and she forgot and so on..it was a big day, everybody was dressed up, and she had nothing, no report, her teacher told her she had to do something...so she went upstairs and found me in class. She told me she did not have the report and she was crying, so I wrote a report on Mother Teresa, for her in 15 minutes and I threw a sheet over her head, like Nun headpiece, and sent her on her way. She said the report was really good and she even has a picture of her, with the sheet on her head. I cried when she told me that. It sounds so nice of me.

My mom told me our schools around cost my dad 20 thousand dollars every year, to send us to. I was impressed. I don't know if I believe it.

We had to pick up my mom

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at her job. She works in a prison right now. She hates the job, and men masterbate in front of her, and it looks like death camps, but her excuse for staying is, they pay the highest of anyone around so she is working a job she hates for money, money that will just remind her of what she is giving up, her self respect. She started as a psychologist but now runs a department. When she demands higher pay she always gets it. Noone wants to work in prison, and they really need her, she knows everything and she does great work. No wonder all she wants to do is retire.

I keep telling her to work for herself and she is planning of opening a hotel in South America.  Oh!! My sister told me that my mom, in Paraguay, when she visits, she and her boyfriend heal people, by praying over them. I was so mad. My mom keeps secrets from me becasue she knows I can't stand her doing that. I hate that voodoo stuff. I told you, her boyfriend is a religious nut, who looks down on those who are productive. He is a young man who lives off her money. She is really making a mistake. I cannot ever pick up the pieces either. I have to let it go! I have to walk away!

I got sick after eating with my sister. I think from all the novacaine. I wanted to throw up in the car. I drank water and my lips were parched.

Later we saw people on the street selling mamoncillos, this awesome fruit. I had my mom pull up and bought a bag for 2 $ and I ate it all, at my mom's condo. My sister made me a weird smoothie. It had bananas, dates, avocado, tomato, cucumber and grapes. It was a meal.

I later had my mom drive me to E's, the attorney, house where I had my sister play the new Bioshock game. She was good. She killed her share of splicers. My mom came and watched in a chair. E bought two guarapo squeezed juices for me and they were in the fridge. So fun to watch that game. I was happy. I sat in a big chair with a blanket. I had on my glasses.

I was in pain, my jaw. Serious. I could not move. I could not talk nor smile. I had to lay down sideways and watch tv. Everyone asked me if I was alright, and I wasn't. I refused all pain medications and antibiotics that day and well, you can imagine.

My sister went home with my mom, and I stayed. I smoked a little pot, that was offered, and I regret it, but it really took my mind off pain.

I need to make better decisions. Some decisions, I just can't make some times, and I need to make the right decisions all the time. This thing called reality, you can't play games with it or escape it. It is there and it's called reality for a reason. Work with it, not against it. One bad decision affects every area of your life. One tiny good decisions does the same, like butterfly effect. There are things like, pressures I want to not think about sometimes.

E said it's ok to check out once in a while. I disagee. You can't. YOU ARE SO IN IT. And your choices reward or punish you. Plain and simple.

I have a lot of work to do on my book. It's way bigger than I thought. Every chapter is like a novel with conflicts and wars. I also have to get people to want to read the next chapter, at the end of every chapter. And E told me that the bad characters have to think of themselves as good. When we make bad decisions we rationalize it, but we know its a bad choice, but we make excuses. We make any bad choice "good", in our minds. That is dangerous, because you can rationalize killing someone or poisioning yourself. I will have my bad characters do that.

I told him I make my characters do things, without the "author", (me) adding any sort of personal thought. I hate when authors add their thoughts to stories when you can SHOW what you want to convey or have the characters talk about something. Like, " he looked at her face and smiled" versus " He saw her beauty and melted inside, he thought how pretty she is" I mean us authors cannot read minds,!! Let the reader do the thinking. I would rather show things.

I watched 2-3 episodes of the Two Corey's, It's funny. I also watched the last episode of Californication, so I am up to date. E gave me a long back massage that wound up making my whole body sore. I think it's from the pain in my head. He played with my hair, as I lay in pain. I was comfortable.

I fell alseep on hairy cat bed and woke up next to him curled up, with a pillow on top of my head and a fat cat between us. He has these lawn boys come to cut his grass so they made loud noises at 8 am.

When I woke up I still did not want to be in reality. Thank god for sleep. They should make an evil superhero that cannot ever sleep. Pure madness or who knows, maybe reality can be bliss.

It seems like the littlest bad choice opens the door to so many others. I asked E, how long has man been fighting good and evil inside himself and who has won? He said, Neither, it will always be balanced. I don't agree, I think we can be all good, by making good choices all the times and by thinking and working. It's work though. I mean, a commitment to yourself and a rejection of other's interference with your judgement.

Today I am eating watermelon and banana and date smoothies. I am in bed. I have a lot of work to do on my book. I have a lot of work to do on myself.

This guy stopped me as i was photogrpahing some trees. He told me this house was owned by Desi Arnez and he even showed me the DA on the mailbox. He said his mom lived here and told me these stories about her and her dogs.


I love doorways.









Look at that bench.



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8/25/2007


Last night, I texted MBH, that I was horny. " I am horny" I sent at midnight. He wrote that "tease me huh?" I asked him what is he going to do about it?

 At 4 am I wake up, I hear a door slam, I awaken, panting. he walks in. I see a handsome man's body shape.

I climbed on my knees, breathing heavily, got naked, and tore off his clothes and gave him long kiss, played with his body, kissed his nipples, took down his pants, did all those things I wanted to. To honor lust and desire.

He threw me down on the bed and kissed me, he is very talented lover and he pleased me. With skill. It is weird finishing, not by masterbation, but by a real man. It's different. Uniquely. I have not had sex in 6 months? Maybe 8? All I knew is I wanted it. I took pleasure in knowing I am desirable. He did worship my body.

There was pain too, as always, he is rough. Very painful positions and aggresive movements against bones. I woke up and there was blood on my sheets. He forced me to do painful things to me. He also bit me, I asked him to, in the heat of the moment. I smelled alcohol on his breath. When he was done, I fell asleep like a baby. He slept a little. The air conditioning made music. When he got up, after dressing, to leave he gave me a sexy passionate kiss. I don't think I ever looked at him once,  it was all in the pitch dark.

Why am I writing about this? Because It was really nice. I can say that sex , like that, is definitely a good thing on my chart of good and bad. Something to be proud of. I am proud.

Earlier I went out with E, and this handsome guy C. All he wants to do is talk. I think he is a lawyer in E's work. Or wanna be, because he was driving a real shiny convertible roadster. Speeding alot.

I like E and feel safe with him, I have a great time when we go out, but bringing a handsome man to the circle, I was wary of conflict within, as usually always happens. I almost have to ask, why do that? I mean WHY?

We talked alot. Me and c, He has big huge muscles and male models face. Maybe a little bit like THE ROCK. Anyways, it was a fun night, we could not stop talking about philosophy. I felt really attractive. I made him play BIOSHOCK.  He asked me deep questions, so did I. I was self absorbed, as usual lately. I like it. Myself as the ends and the means.

We tried to play a drinking game, out at places, but it was too complicated. We asked each other 80's trivial pursuit, trivia questions at a tables, waiting for pool tables to be free. I just had water.

We went to this beautiful place called Finnegans? It was on the water, yachts came up to dock, and we watched them sail by. We went to another place. I do not go out at night, at all, so it was different. I see Kids sitting at bars, when you walk up to them, they look like old men. It was a beautiful night. Short latin girls dancing. Gogo girls in tubes with cascading waterfalls dancing, neon, girls hugging and kissing guys, each other etc..
 Shit I should have taken photos! I brought my camera too.

I have to come clean about something, I smoked a little pot. Like three puffs. Ok, I say, never again...I know the responsibilities of making it on my own get overwhelming, but hiding from it, escaping reality, it comes back to punish us..I did escape reality, I was in the lost, dark, childhood fantasy, everything is perfect, part of my head, but is that anti-suvine?

Things will not be perfect, until I am a success, and that takes time, patience and work, non stop work.

E wanted to go home. his friend was drunk.
I asked to be given a ride home after watching an episode of THE FLIGHT OF THE CONCHORDS, my new favorite show.
E is so sweet. He feeds me guarapo and oranges. I am always happy with him and we laugh at all the tv shows he downloads. He drove me home. There is a little conflict here, I want him to always be happy.

I need to stop thinking about how others feel or think, always. That is evil.

I had to eat so far today, leftover avocado salad and watermelon. I made a strawberry, date and banana smoothie. power size.

I feel like a woman, I feel attractive. I feel desirable. I feel nice, I feel good. Noone makes me happier than myself, though. I feel something, definitely different. I feel womanhood. I feel it.

Now I need to dedicate 6-7 hours writing. It is very uncomfortable writing on a laptop, that long. It's not like a notebook.

I got a book about how to write non fiction.
Fist page ( important):Writing is not a test of self esteem. Wow That struck me. I feel sometimes it is. Also, never take the blame for things you do not know about, but do take the blame for writing errors you do know about.
 Also writing is not an index for psychological health.
When you sit down to write