I Have Many Skills.

A little bit of paradise.

Perhaps puddles are glimpses into another world, and whenever people jump into a puddle, natural disasters happen in that world. Perhaps this is why disasters happen.

Lover

Lover Skin upon skin lies beautiful pleasure, To be devoured and released with ones breath. Cries and pleas whispered in sensitive ears, As the Heart explodes in pleasure. The pleasure is in the beauty of passion As it rolls off the writhing body. The chest rises and falls with every gasp, As the heart dies a little death. But it still trembles from head to toe. Lover stares down at the golden beauty, Smiling with pleasure and total hunger. A kiss is a just a kiss, and a Sigh is just a sigh as time goes on. Skin upon skin lies beautiful exstasy, As love comes together in passion.

I'm sorry...

Dear Mom and Dad,

I'm sorry I never appreciated you while I was growing up.  I'm sorry that I didn't see the sacrifices that you made for me, as Asian immigrants.  I hated you when you would embarrass me in front of my friends or in public when you'd speak to me in Chinese. 

I hated that I was Chinese at one point in my life, and I'm so sorry for that, I'm deeply shamed by that now.  I was embarrassed by my heritage, and all I wanted was a normal life as a white American.  I wanted that so much that I prayed for it.  I hated my eyes, my skin color, and my general look of not looking Anglo Saxon American. 

I'm sorry that for that one year, I acted white, like I didn't understand Chinese, or refused to eat anything Asian.  I'm sorry I made you worry.  I'm sorry for myself, because for that one year, I could've learned so much. 

Growing up, I deeply resented you two to my bone.  You two worked so hard, accomplished so much, but it fell on blind eyes, and deaf ears.  You two were never home, and it was up to my brother to take care of me, which he used to resent me for as well.  I loved him so much, and he never really returned that love.  It must've felt like that for you too. 

I'm sorry that I don't trust you two, enough to share this with you.  That you won't really understand what I'm saying, or out right deny everything I'm sharing.  I'm sorry that you'll never know.

I'm sorry for everything that I've said that made you feel anything other than happiness, and I'm sorry for what I'll say to you in the future that make you feel anything other than happiness.  Such is the way of life, and not everybody is meant to die happy.

Seasons change, and friends move away, and life goes on from day to day, but I do know for a fact, that I love the both of you so much, so much that I'd rather die than see you both in a grave.  I want to thank you, and apologize for being so difficult at times, but I know, also for a fact, that your love is boundless, and beyond the farthest star.

Love

Wei Shing

He asked, "are you satisfied yet?" "More," she whispered.

Classic beauty

Marilyn Monroe photographed by Richard Avedon, 1957.

Beautiful

Diego Gravinese The Duration of Promises Oil on canvas, 180 x 140 cms

For when she drew her last breath, giving up her soul, too tired to run anymore, he was there, taking her away, forever his, mind, body, and soul. He had made her.

It's him

as he makes me feel like I'm about to fall, or burst into flame, or turn to liquid all at once. Every part of me belongs to him.....but he also belongs to me.

I try to be understanding with every person, and try to view posts from their point of view if they get upset. I'm glad you're so outspoken and so open with your autism. You are lighting the way for more understanding, and leading the way for an open dialogue. That's awesome, my friend.

As for the kiddo, he had another seizure last week at the YMCA while swimming. I'm heartbroken, the doctors don't know why he's getting seizures. Fingers crossed all is worked out soon.

His eyes...

she thought, are beautiful. There is life in there far beyond her reach.

Behind his eyes was freedom, far from the chains of his mind and the complex bondage he was held fast to. If only he could reach out. But he is left with a blank stare and various stimulation that were expressed with a flap of his arms, and twirling, his constant twirling around.

She held fast though, returning each time to look into his eyes, because she knew, she knew there was freedom behind his eyes.

A freedom that would break free for an instant, and he would focus and be free from the chains for but a moment, and stare back with recognition, with a single word on the tip of his tongue, but would never be uttered; “mom.”

His eyes, she thought, are beautiful. There is life in there, far beyond her reach.