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Wisps Posts Tagged as 'Myself'

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I was so cute that I didn't realize how stupid I was until I wasn't. No one ever heard a word I said, especially my mother. How was I supposed to know if I was stupid? No wonder, my sister called me Charlie Brown. She thinks she's Lucy. Ugh! 28-Jul-2021

Tags: Myself, Realization

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28-Jul-2021


 

White folks did not enslave my ass. All mother's doing. Oh fuck! I keep forgetting. My mother is white. Fuck!

My mother isn't to blame. She just wanted a white boy whose hair was easy to manage. 11-Jul-2021

Tags: Family, Latino, Myself

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11-Jul-2021


 

When I was attached as a gay couple, I invited my mother and stepdad to our state, for a visit. One night, I decided to play "what if" with them. I was astounded that my mother understood the concept since she doesn't speak english but she quickly chimed in. I asked her what would be the first thing she would do if she were a man. She proudly responded, "be President." Wow. Awesome. I asked my stepdad what would be the first thing he'd do as a woman and he said, "have a gangbang." My lover and I were, "oooh, bummer." After I explained what a gangbang was to mother, the game and the night ended. He embarrassed her in front of my giant. They went to their room where she must have whipped him real good because he came downstairs to apologize profusely and wish us a really good night. We understood my mother felt disrespected but my giant and I agreed we would explore our sexuality first too. Of course, not a gangbang but something leading to one. Joke. Step-daddy apologized all next day, throughout the remainder of the visit and all the way through the airport. 25-Jun-2021

Tags: Myself, Parenting

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25-Jun-2021


 

During my summer youth, my mother was reprimanded to therapy for attempting suicide. She claims it was my fault for telling the hospital she'd tried it before. My sister told me the only way she was going to stop attempting suicide for attention was if she got help. Every Thursday, after her appointment, she'd come home and beat the crap out of me. I asked her why and she said, "for making me lie to the therapist." It was her therapy from therapy. I was so happy when therapy ended. The abuse didn't stop but panic on a schedule was worst than a random hit. 23-Jun-2021

Tags: Mother, Myself, Youth

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23-Jun-2021


 

I lived a lifetime without representation in entertainment or books. I was an enslaved child shielded from outside influences. It was always family. Friends weren't allowed. I explored a friendship when I was six. He used to come every night and we'd watch and enact scenes from The Avengers. I was finally playing with someone else, liking the same things and having fun. My sister was allowed more freedom and friends and I don't understand why. You know, Amazon shit. Anyway, by the third day my mother had had enough. "Is this going to happen every day? Oops. I didn't know. "He always stays til dinnertime and sits to eat when I've only cooked for four. I had to give him my portion. I'm not taking care of another woman's kid! I was to get rid of him immediately. It made sense. I couldn't afford a friend. Next day I spoke to him at school and told him that he couldn't come over anymore, my mother hated him and that he was a big fat pig for eating all our food. I never saw him again and my mother was very proud. I tried once again, in my tweens, for a semester with two black gay friends but it was in secret and it never panned out. In entertainment I caught glimpses of myself and that was enough. It didn't matter who represented humanity as long as they interpreted it well. God only cares about our soul. That's why he made most of us ugly. I saw enough bits to try and solve my puzzle and be who I wanted to be. A gay romantic idiot. More representation is not going to get people to like us. Being kind might. White people have been representing throughout history and it doesn't stop them from hating each other. What's going to change? Representation only matters if its organic like the vegetable. 21-Jun-2021

Tags: Myself, Representation

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21-Jun-2021


 

I'm only half of a stereotype. I love fried chicken but I only eat watermelon in candy form. My parents embarrassed me every summer by serving slices of watery sugar to our community. I tasted sticky watery sugar in every bite. I hated that shit. 16-Jun-2021

Tags: Cultural, Myself, Stereotype

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16-Jun-2021


 

I met my biggest celebrity crush (the guy that makes your ass twitch in excitement) in my teens on Park Avenue. He was stepping out of a limo, walking his dog, rocking those adorable little Jaws shorts with sandals when he suddenly smiles at me. Nobody wants to be a fan like Lucy but you can't be rude, so I smiled back and respected his distance. Yet, I couldn't allow my shyness to waste the opportunity for a million future masturbation fantasies. We acknowledged each other as a god and a fan, he extended his hand, I extended mine then a bird shat on me and I ran away. I remember that beautiful smile, gorgeous tan, manly everything and those cute little shorts and I kick myself. My apologies Mr. Scheider. It won't ever happen again. 15-Jun-2021

Tags: Gay, History, Myself

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15-Jun-2021


 

Why did Bobby Brady from The Brady Bunch see rockets and firecrackers when he fell in love? I was a cute idiot twink picked up by an interesting man who looked exactly like William Hurt with a curly wig and a height difference. It wasn't him but the dude was still pretending to be someone. I wanted to fuck and get it over with. I didn't want to give him reasons to kill me. I kept all answers "interview" level. Everything about daddy was nice. Nothing spectacular but very pleasant. This will be a quick release. He starts banging and all is quite pleasing. It was a rainy afternoon fuck between two strangers. Nice. The climax was a buildup. Things were happening. I was giving him things that didn't belong to him. I start convulsing and begin to see stars, firecrackers and colored lightning. Who is this fake William Hurt motherfucker? It was a feeling I expected from someone more intimate. Is he from space? I wanted to snatch that wig and unmask him but I was embarrassed for feeling like the only vagina in New York cumming at that moment. It was fucking fantastic! If I hadn't already been happily married, I would have let him stalk me. 09-May-2021

Tags: Dating, Gay, Gay101, History, Myself, Relationships

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09-May-2021


 

The idea of sharing neighborly grief and sentimentality with food is a common tradition that our family never followed. Dished food was constantly being brought to our home with gestures of warmth and or greetings yet remained untasted. At funeral gatherings my mother would throw out the stranger's food and keep only the family's. When the strangers inquired about their food my mother showed them the empty dishes. "It was so good the people gobbled it up." There was always an excuse. She didn't like what they said, they appeared unclean, smelled, had cats, were old, of another race or white. Mrs. Brady would have no chance at delivering "other food" to our mouths.

Our mother turned eating out into shopping for a restaurant. She wanted to make sure it was clean and comfortable and that more than two people were eating there. She didn't want to appear uncool.

Before she died, my stepfather's mother made some of his favorite dishes. We drove to pick them up. They were neatly packed in containers and my stepfather was excited to bring the food home and share it with us but mother smelled something foul in the car on our way home. I smelled nothing. Is it coming from those containers?! Throw them out! Those containers are not coming inside my house! They're poison. Throw them out or you're not getting back in the car! My stepdad deflated as he dumped the last taste of home and I felt so bad for him. It's his mother's food and he's the only one obligated to eat it and if he wants to relive a fond memory, he should goddam be able to. Mother! Go into another room while he gobbles it down. I'll clean it up. I told her that and she yells at me "yeah, but you don't know these people." (Spells and shit.)

I've never held to her philosophy and as an adult enjoyed much food by hospitable strangers and neighbors and obviously never died. My mother was afraid someone else would usurp her talent. 01-May-2021

Tags: Family, Food, Mental Health, Mother, Myself, Women In Charge

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01-May-2021


 

Fright of my sister and her constant abuse made me the best cowgirl licker on the planet. (Wasteful Jedi trick.) 23-Apr-2021

Tags: Family, Gay, Myself, Perception, Relationships, Sex, Sister

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23-Apr-2021


 

One of my best friends ghosted me because I admitted I was old. LOL! 20-Apr-2021

Tags: Friends, Gay, Myself, Nobody Cares, Psychology

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20-Apr-2021


 

I fucked my nemesis. He was a muscular churro with an angry attitude, grey eyes, boyish youth and he hated me. He thought I bumped into what he liked because I wanted to steal it. It became competitive. He stole more often than I but I think he thought I stole better (what he most wanted.) There's no such thing.

Club time. Hanging out with friends, fucked up with slim pickings on the horny horizon... my nemesis asks me to dance. Sure. He was hot and I was on fire so why not? Let's put hate behind us. We danced all the way into my bedroom. I was going to "hate fuck" my nemesis. Woohoo! He goes "really?" and pulls out a mountain climbing rock. Oh fuck. That's not how I figured it. There was no argument. Man with the best hand wins. Yes, my nemesis was going to fuck me and I was going to experience some hate. Every thrust was hateful. I locked him out as many times as my "asshole" would allow just to make it difficult. Dude penetrated every time. The explosion was massive for both of us. My clouds parted as soon as he bared his soul to me and I came. Fuck!

Morning. My friends thought it would be cute to invade my space by inviting themselves to a non-existent breakfast. They came to defraud him. He had conquered plenty of their conquests and they wanted revenge. They were witches. I tried to stop them but there were too many voices. "He's not what we thought, guys." They showed "before and after pictures" like he was on trial, made him take out his contact lenses, show his plugs, admit to surgery, his age and his identity. The beautiful boy, disrobed, destroyed, humiliated and defrauded. He hated me because I was a real boy. He left punished and I never saw or heard of him again. What the fuck? When he showed me his soul, I saw mine too. My friends sucked. Squirt. 19-Apr-2021

Tags: Gay, History, LGBTQ, Myself, NSFW, Puerto Rican, Relationships, Sex, Youth

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19-Apr-2021


 

IN THE ORIGINAL STORY, PINOCCHIO KILLED JIMINY CRICKET

I was raised by Amazons. The women in my life were hierarchy. I was trained that all men are scum but they pay the rent so we have to put up with them. You may keep the ones that tickle the ivory longer than the ones that can pay the rent but that is an individual choice. I was going to be unique. I'd be raised as a boy with a female alpha mentality.

The only boyish thing I did was have sex with other boys/men. Ooh, that sounds girlish too. I did no boy things.

If we are allowed to accuse and punish we should be able to examine what weirds/drives them out. Changing what men hate should be a self realization and a compromise. I wanted out of girly world. I have a dick and I am nothing like them. I am not a girl. I wanted to be a boy like Pinocchio. (Scariest story ever because it's depraved and life has no happy ending and the "real" book made me hate it because it was my truth but it gave me hope. I will not be a schmuck puppet.) They never realized there was a boy underneath until the neighbors told them so. "Why isn't your boy married?" I became a lie that thrived but disappointed when I revealed the truth.

The men that popped up occasionally were full of drink, exhaustion, perversion and hate. The men bestowed me wisdoms about "you know who" and tips on how to sneak in extracurricular sex but then they disappeared or died. The parties were masquerades except when the tired broke free and exposed an ugly truth. The fairytale lasts as long as it takes a kid to fall asleep. Flirting, cheating and fights aplenty. The boys kept playing at Prince Charming while the women took credit for it. Somebody got laid, crowned, a new home and family whilst the other, got her rent paid. The kids were either in on the plan or out.

My mother and sister cured me of lying by aggressively harassing me. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I told a lie and got beat up, I told the truth and got beat up. I decided to tell the truth so it could mean something.

My stepfather stopped talking after his heart attack. He can but won't. He is so afraid to misspeak or insinuate the wrong thing to offend female empowerment that he stopped talking to my mother and everyone in the family because he can't handle the stress. He is being raised by Amazons. The exact same ones as I. He is a dumb alpha ex-jock stuck in a girly world and it's his punishment for cheating with whores. (Yeah, but he paid the rent!)

Mary Richards is my favorite feminist. She didn't want to downgrade men, she wanted to join them. She liked men. Lou, the alpha, respected her and everybody else adored her. Female empowerment is not about being a "Queen." If you want to be a Queen move to England. All's fair in love and war. That doesn't sound equal to me. We must remember that when "he" declares it. 02-Apr-2021

Tags: Children, Fairytales, Family, Man vs Woman, Myself, Parenting, Responsibility, Social Media, Superiority, Training

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02-Apr-2021


 

One of my exes was a twin with an elder that came out gay at different times in their lives. Historic. Mother was a hard woman with a warm heart. Daddy demurred with kind eyes and macho swagger. They were guido-jew fabulous and emotionally florid. My relationship with the family evolved. Rough and misunderstood initiations matured into love and sympathy. I became family.

My boyfriend's twin was straight during my integration. I guarded myself and respected his boundaries, we never said more than " hi, bye" even when he kept coming into the kitchen with his shirt off to distract us. Every time I visited, he strolled in like James Dean looking for soda while his mother screamed, "put a shirt on! We have guests!"

The twins were fraternal. His brother was Mercury godlike whilst my boyfriend was made at the Chucky factory (he was nuts! but I loved him. No wonder he was forever angry. Funny as fuck, though.) Anyway, we broke up and became close friends for many years. I never met the older brother because my ex thought he would steal me away. From myself? "But we're just friends." "Don't matter, I know him, you're his type. Forget about it." I did. In 30 years I've never met his eldest brother.

I saw pictures of his brother and spoke to him on the phone. Once again, he was cuter than Chucky but not as beautiful as the twin from another father. Wasted sweat on my ex's part.

My friend was dealing with our breakup by clinging to relationships that were unkind to his sensitivity. Straight twin confessed to letting my ex's Puerto Rican captive suck him off. They would drive my ex to therapy so he could repair his failing marriage whilst the brother and lover went at it in the car. I did not see that coming. It triggered 5 years of frustrating drunk friend retreads about how the love of his life sucked the cum out of his stupid brother. After failed ideations proved unrealistic, Mercury came out to everyone. 10 years later. He was the last brother to come out. The parents gave up their influence on all of their boys and dealt with what was determined. I admired them for that.

Years after coming out a "dashing squishier twin" and I finally had a conversation during a 30 Something Lifetime reunion. Yes, the walk through the kitchen was flirting. No, I thought he was straight. Definitely, we both wanted to. Why didn't either of us make a move? Because my/your brother would have killed us! We laughed nervously as Chucky glared at us. 27-Mar-2021

Tags: Gay, History, Myself, Relationships

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27-Mar-2021


 

I was under 25 living a fantasy gay lifestyle with my perfect partner in Brooklyn. I lived 20 blocks from my mother and my newly appointed stepfather. It was like living in a colorized version of "I Love Lucy." Yes, I was as corny as all of you once.

One evening.

Mother calls hysterical. We had to come over. We were just there. What happened?

Rewind: my stepfather wanted to be more seductive for my mother so he called us for advice. My Russian advised him to get her flowers, lay them out, get a thong and strip for her. I agreed it might be fun for her. It was all the craze and my stepdad had the body.

FF: a family dinner was the event where he decided to put sexy daddy in motion. I was flabbergasted but I didn't want to embarrass him and or hear the wrath of mom. I watched as he stripped to a thong and ran her out into the kitchen. He automatically proceeded to dance and strip for my lover and I. Dude, my lover was getting into it. I slithered into the kitchen before my stepdaddy lap dance, checked on mom and she was furious. "That fuckin' maricon." Men don't do that shit. I'm humiliated. I apologized and told her it was my fault and that I thought it would be cute. I didn't know he was going to take it so seriously. She softened, laughed and whispered that "he used to be a bouncer at gay clubs. That's where he learnt the moves. (I didn't know bouncers had to bounce.) He says he never did anyone there but after today I'm not so sure." My mother accepted it as a joke, stepfather got dressed, we ate hardy, laughed ridiculously and went home.

The call.

Mother: Something's wrong with your stepfather, he's beating himself up,"como un loco." I think it's an army thing.

I was what? I returned to mother's and he was indeed beating himself to a pulp. He was punching himself and body slamming his head against the walls. We restrained my bloody step and stored him in a room away from my mother.

Step: your mother... (he couldn't speak)

Me: why were you punching yourself dad?

Step: (crying) because she pushed all my buttons and I wanted to hit her. I made a promise to myself that I would never hit another woman, ever, so instead of punching her, I punched myself.

Later.

Mother: pendejo. He really is an idiot isn't he? (She laughs. Ok. I laughed too.) I would rather he hit me and prove that he's a man instead of acting like this. (More laughter.) Your father knew how to corral a woman. I liked that. That's the kind of man I want. Not this. You have some of that too. (Ha!)

I asked he if she got off on it and she said yes. Out of the blue...she admits Osama Bin Laden gave her wet dreams. "There is something about that man. Don't you think?" (I was speechless. Why is she telling me this shit?)

I've taken her to countless hospitals with boyfriend injuries and interceded physically to save her life and she gets off on it? The hurt, the police, the pity, the crying, the worry, the danger, the attention, the fraud, the violence all for a tickle? 05-Mar-2021

Tags: Family, Marriage, Mental Health, Mother, Myself, Puerto Rican, Violence, Women In Charge

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05-Mar-2021




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