Snippets of Memories
(funny, how life's somewhat different now)

" 24/12/06

.... .... Let's call them "The Three Musketeers". They are the Australian I-bankers that J and I met at Attica on 11th December. They are Bert (Barclays) , Walt(Deutsche) and Jim (Credit Suisse).

So Walt came to approach J for Bert. We were sitting by one of the reserved tables and waiting for James to arrive. Walt said that it was one of his friend's birthday and if we would like to join them. They, too were sitting by a reserved table. J consulted me, I took a quick glance at the calibre before us, made my calculations and said to J why not... ....

To cut the long story short, Walt is the one I am most attracted to. Very aloof and gentlemanly. He's 32 and don't seem to be particularly interested in me romantically. Jim is the player- "Groovy Jim with the fancy pants" is what I call him. Think he was mildly attracted to me and thought so too on my part. And Bert is completely enamoured by J.

... ... Oh Jim tried to be funny with me last week, flirting with me. Asked what's my type, attempted to let his fingers do the talking on my boob and I said, "Excuse me?" He went on to say " You love me" and I said no I don't and neither did he so let's keep it as that...

We were supposed to go out last night- Jim, J and me but it didn't happen. Wonder if he's ego bruised cos Bert now knows I have a boyfriend and must've told Jim. After all, when I texted him on Tuesday (the day where Bert and J went out for a date) "Groovy Jim with the fancy pants" and he called me and cos I was at a loss of what to say, I asked him out. He must've been ego boosted or something and emailed Bert. Can you imagine 2 big guys being so excited and gossipy? We are talking about busy bankers that should have better things to talk about...

... Met up with XW and BF last week. Latest gossip. PC is with reuters or something based in HK. She has a rich bf whom at his expense, flew 3 of her girlfriends into visit her. Seems like this girl is going places and Mr. London was merely a small fish.

Mike has been bestowed a new nickname and J. "Mad Dog" is his name. That fucker stopped contacting me and out of 3 days after I duped him for that ride, I texted him to thank him for taking J and I appreciated it. He replied "Sweetie" again and he was just happy to see me. I let the text stop as that cos I didn't want him to further entertain any ideas... ...."





" 15/12/04

....It always seems that I feel the loneliness when midnight comes. I always have a hard time falling asleep and I feel so lonely and needing to talk to someone. Times are so different, not likw how it used to be. I could pick up the phone and dial the numbers of any of my girlfriends and we'll chat till the wee hours of the morning. Everyone has a job to wake up to whereas I'm just on a holiday break here. Too long a holiday perhaps and it depresses me to know that I'm now so old and I should start taking up some adult responsibilities.

B updated me about our JC classmates. It seems like Dar and Ange have gotten married. Ange married hastily last year to an American who couldn't even afford to buy her a winter coat. That brady bunch- Mab, Nel & Joy are also getting married. B & I wonder how and why. Nel and Jpy not being the most attractive and lacking in social experience with the opposite sex when we were still in the same class. As for Mab, we couldn't believe that our wild child is settling for a decent chap. Seems like only B and I are searching. It seems like there is a domino theory of peer pressure behind this whole marriage thing. Singaporeans getting married younger. I have been hearing about all this so and so's getting married since my return, all people my age. B and I wonder if they know what they're missing out in life- all that sexual experimentation with different people so that they can widen their selection pool (well, Mab has been there and done that so she doesn't reall count... .............), all that travelling and the freedom there is out there for singlehood. The thought of marriage and settling down with just the one scare the shits out of me. But guess I haven't a career to speak of, with my life barely beginning, a problematic relationship with DL, aged x and still without a decent job. Wonder if this has all contributed to my fear or off-putting thoughts of marriage?

It's been 3 weeks since my return to Singapore. Every night, I think and dream of my "funny boy" and "most beautiful Frenchman", A. I am always tempted to pick up the phone and dial his number but what of it?.... ...... But I couldn't stop thinking about him; tje sex (although it was purely sex; there was no real tenderness from him)... Maybe B is right, feelings always gets involved when there's sex. It's not as clear cut as one wishes it to be. I really don't know...

The pictures are developed. We look like a wonderful couple in the picture. I have never looked more photogenic than the one and only picture we took together. Would really love to send him this one so that his memory of me would always be preserved by this beautiful picture. There is a natural radiance to my face and I cannot be anymore satisfied. He did take a couple of pictures of me on his mobile phone. I made him delete all except the last one. Even then, I didn't look that good. ... ....."

ON TIME

Dearest Big Boy,

You mentioned that our joint possibility depends on us being at the right place at the right time. I begged to differ and supported my argument based on will. Let me quote you something that I have once read at the age of nineteen and which I truly buy into the notion. It has permeated my realm of understanding, reigning the way I made light of this world and human's existence. Suddenly, I felt enlightened and understood why one is trapped in one’s suffering. Time, the artificial Maker combined with our surrender to fear or anxiety. Hence, the willpower of Man to desire and make things happen or counteract a circumstance, in my opinion is still the key to unlock any deemed trappings (or commitments as finely weighted in all things)…

“Strictly speaking time does not exist (except within the limit of the present), yet we have to submit to it. Such is our condition. We are subject to that which does not exist. Whether it is a question of passively borne duration- physical pain, waiting, regret, remorse, fear- or of organised time- order, method, necessity- in both cases that to which we are subject does not exist. But our submission exists. We are really bound by unreal chains. Time which is unreal casts over all things including ourselves a veil of unreality.”

- Gravity and Grace, Simone Weil

Please do not once interpret this letter as a persuasion to re-consider any propositions. My current outlook in such matters is zen-like. I have no wish to de-rail/ tempt you from your commitments, neither do I view myself as one whom you could make an exception for as I must say I am not an earth-shaker (though my alter ego “wants” to believe she can be so; heh). My present state of mind (or will, rather) is in neutral gear. I meant only to take a lover who could “get it” with me on his own- not only physically but most saliently, mentally as it heightens my sense of pleasure and I have no wish to intervene and influence the flow of things on my part to bring about an outcome. You could have been the one to satisfy the intellectually impoverished here with both your carnal and mental finesse but since it “shouldn’t” be happening, I thought you could still make a great companion at philosophical banter. Thought I should throw this one at you as food for thought thus.

Well, it gets quite lonely Down Under for a Headhunter (no pun intended from a burlesque;p) with no “good” ware to play with. DilettanteP always welcomes a good discussion on philosophical themes ranging from a gamut of topics in carnality (ah, Life’s source) to the intricate power play underlying human relations. The touchy feeling aspects of life that she senses a Big boy like you would be ever so piqued by curiosity and interest. Please, no politics since she has not acquaint herself well on that front but if you are in the mood to throw her a bit of education, she’s all ears…;)

Did P ever tell you that she sometimes deem herself as the female version of you (albeit less knowledgeable)? She feels like a Big girl herself. The masculine assertiveness portrayed on the exterior to mask that girly girl beneath…;)

Ok, enough said, Big Boy.

So Cheers (to the excesses of a pleasantly debauched life),

(chink, chink wine [yours] and cocktail[mine] glasses toasting),

DilettanteP

P.S. You may choose to write me a letter at dilettantep@hotmail.com addressed from Big Boy. Do include an indication so that I know it is really you ;)

The Way about a Headhunter's World

“Get in swiftly and get out swiftly.”

That was the advise the King left her.

Sounds easy but for one with a phone phobia and who lives like a spy as her source of livelihood, she is made to confront her fear squarely in the face.

Recently, she was wondering if she would ever do good in her profession. She has stopped being a rising star of the firm as she has run out of tricks. A charlatan, she deems herself as she weaves her way through life. She thinks she is almost at the stage of being exposed…

And she lacks the will to continue with her act these days. She grows weary...

P has resigned to fate that she would most likely never be able to make a living out of her artisitc passions. After all, they don’t pay very well and she isn’t too good either. And she is a capitalist through and through.

Again, she retreats into her darker moods and thinks of new ways to strategise and “package” her being and new ways to make money.

****

Today, she again confessed to Dope (since communications resume and professional banter continues) the frustrations she feels at work.

Apparently, she is working with the best of the best veterans in the field and the no.1 global firm.

Still, she is no longer challenged and she is working with the best. So where else could she go?

It didn’t help to find out that she and her old team were deemed being paid above the market. With the new merger, she would see less of bonuses but perhaps more of other perks in the way of small overseas trip.

But cash is king in her opinion.

She wondered if she had missed the boat with Dubai where the money would be better and where she would also get to travel. Such a great deal!!!

****

And guess what? She just received a call.

A headhunter’s call!

Apparently, P realised she has a reputation in the market. And nonetheless a positive one!!!!

The man on the other end of the line insisted that he knows of her background. So typical, all due diligence done.

The case of a headhunter being headhunted!!!!

Ah, such ironies of life when one thinks that one is going downhill and surprise, surprise!!!

****

Funny, a fortune teller has mentioned to her earlier this year that she might be headhunted!

So is it all fated to be?

PARTING NOTES

“In the multiple peregrinations of love, Sabina is quick to recognize the echoes of larger loves and desires. The larger ones, particularly if they had not died a natural death, never died completely and left reverberations. Once interrupted, broken artificially, suffocated accidentally, they continued to exist in separate fragments and endless smaller echoes.”

- A Spy in the House of Love, Anais Nin (1954)

****

On that morning of his departure, she went into the guestroom and lay next to him.

The day before, she shared with him the story of “The Respectful Murderer”. But it was too late. She could not by then have him on her own terms. But she gave him the answers he wanted. Just this once. For M…

****

She got onto the bed and lay next to him, careful to leave a gap between them, mindful of his 24-hour turnaround principle from two nights before to do the rightthing. That entailed an unwillingness to reciprocate or replicate previous acts of intimacies. She stared at the ceiling lost in thoughts. Then she began to speak quietly in her usual third person narration.

Oh, M is leaving today.” The tone was resigned. Too many tears shed over the weekend. From 2005 into 2006. And her New Year resolution was to be a happier person.

He turned to look at her, studying her face, her eyes. She eyed him as equally intent.

She sensed his weakening will and began to touch his face. She carefully felt the texture of his skin, running her finger over his lips, copper blond brow and hair, registering every touch as it might well be the last that she were to be close with her Beautiful Boy again. Her M...

Stealthily, she climbed on top of him and kissed his forehead. Then she attempted to inch herself upwards, her bosoms reached his mouth level. He turned his face away. He refused to look at her, a pained expression on his face. But this time, he did not turn her away like two nights before (then he rejected her advances and begged her to stop hurting him in his suppressed tone of pain and frustration, mindful of parental authorities in the opposite room. She hugged him tight from behind and when he asked her to leave repeatedly, she finally stormed out of the room and spat spitefully, “I HATE you”for his cruelty and her love for him, tears streaming and her heart aching).

Conscious that the situation might spiral to re-enact that all too emotional episode of rejection from two nights before and backed by the reinforcement of her practical mind that perhaps this was for the best (someone’s got to be the first to break the bad news), she moved away acquiescently and returned to lie on her back next to him.

They turned sideways to look at each other.

He appeared like he wished to speak but instead he let out a sigh.

She had summed up her feelings well enough over that weekend and another utter of “I love M” was not going to change the situation or enhance their future possibility. She stretched the corners of her mouth to that usual mock smile, which she is wont to do in her morose state to mentally brave the world of heartaches and disappointments. Pensively, she studied the face of her Beautiful Boy, knowing full well that perhaps it was for the last time. She felt that she was fast losing ground, with that slight dizziness that one in love experiences slipping away and which was speedily replaced by the heaviness of a heart-wrenching pain that could contagiously fill up the void of her being.

Then they held their arms out on each other’s waists for an embrace, still leaving that gap between them. They held like that for a long while, his hands on her bare skin underneath her loose T-shirt.

When it got all too uncomfortable to lay on her side, she resumed her position to lie flat on her back. All this while, she took care not to break away from his touch.

She moved his hand that yielded his power to her. She guided his hand on her smooth bare skin. He felt her belly and allowed his hand to rest there. She steered his palm to wander upwards along her chest.

Then she let it rest there. On the left of her bare bosom. (She is ever so conscious of that part of her body). He understood the profound implications of that gesture.

He freed that guided hand from her grip to deny their desires. His escaped hand still underneath her T-shirt reappeared in a split second of a lightning from her collar.

He seized her throat. Then, turned her to eye him. He looked serious and maintained his gaze at her. He further tightened his grip.

All the while, they continued to focus on each other’s expression.

Up to a point, she began to feel that asphyxiating discomfort from the ever-constricting clench. She grabbed his wrist and pulled the hand away and broke free from his handle.

**

They laid back and stared into the ceiling.

Shortly after, she turned to her side and allowed her hands to wander. Her finger roamed tenderly along his bare chest and gradually headed down south along his half nakedness. His throbbing member continued to harden and enlarge. Her fingers teased its outline. Then she slide her fingers nimbly into the loose elastic waistband of his boxers through the gap created by his erected cock. With the back of her fingers, she stroked his private part affectionately, which yielded responsively to each of her touch. He lay there, his arms wide open, watching her lovingly but tinged with a certain quality of sadness. He did not reciprocate her touch. At intervals, they both took deep breaths of rising desires.

Unable to control her intensifying passion for him, she proceeded to caress the tight and hardened member in her grip, possessing his vulnerability. She sensually massaged it and her forefinger lingered around his wetting tip.

Quite instantly, he intervened to curtail their pleasure and snatched her firmly by the wrist. She stubbornly struggled to hang on, tempting his delicate fervour. Finally, she succumbed to the weight of his rebuffing insistence and she turned away, hurt.

He turned her to him gently.

Do you think I am made of steel?”

He studied her face earnestly.

She shrugged. But in her heart, she understood him.

Throwing her head on his chest and fighting back the tears, he closed her tight in his arms.

Labels: THE P-oignant Moments

Dearest Big Boy,

I am about to post the following entry dedicated just to you. It is written in parts as it has taken me a while to try crafting and perfecting my thoughts into words. I have only managed to edit the first part to a satisfactory standard because for some reason, I was inspired to keep up the hours into early this morning to kick off that mental rigour that was necessarily to enable my words to flow a little better.

I undertake writing these entries regarding the possibilities of our intimate interaction much rather seriously for an underlying reason mainly understood only to myself to date. I figured that to have picked you out as "the" chosen partner-in-crime to mark an important rite of my intellectual passage, you must be quite a very special man.

Given the alteration of circumstances correlating to the fast diminishing of our joint possibilities, my rather candidly expressed entries proffer you with clues of my being and how you might have been able to inspire me to lift my intellectual/spiritual awareness to that next level that I sought to find in my travels, my social interactions with people and in my life. You know, the 'high" from the intellectual/ mental/ creative breakthroughs that artistes talk about and as a dilettante with an inclination to dabble in such larger-than-life disciplines, for some reason, I had a sneaking suspicion you might just be it where we first met and in my semi- intoxicated state, I was seriously enjoying my conversation with you.

Take heed, DilettanteP is not a socialble personality by nature but a product of that nurture. And in that, she holds that instinct to adhere to social protocol. And so she rouses herself to be interested in other people's affairs but only very often, really to be listening out for ingenious ideas and wordplay to better educate herself and prepare for that big break in her life...

To finally live life on her own terms and feel it.

And yes, the coming posts is dedicated as much to you as to celebrate that honesty in me, I must again emphasize that you are quite that special gentleman. I did truly enjoy and appreciate your electronic presence as you have led me to embark on titillating trips that has further broaden my sense of life.

Cheers (to the excesses of life),
DilettanteP

*****

"Surrender can require just as much strength as resistance. It brings relief and freedom and enlightenment. And often the higher ground, with the grace of it."

*****

BUYING TIME

Part I

The notion of buying someone else’s time intrigues P. That mere idea in that raw power found inherent in one’s ability to thematically dominate another person’s moment. That life’s moment- never to be retrieved, like youth lost. This is theultimate pricelessness.

She was in the conviction to hand this power over to him without a fight. The implications are significant to her. But he did not know.

*****

P has a philosophy about living a life enriched with intense experiences, be it through the choice of excessiveness or great restraint. Most importantly, the experiences should heighten the awareness of one’s own emotions at that moment, capturing the raw essence. And perhaps one can then be able to empathise with one’s own soul from the kaleidescope of moods and feelings that might be inevitably evoked. Such experiences will only arise through one’s interaction with another being and often, through social experimentation. She is hereby in the firm belief to only form meaningful relationships; in her case, meaningful affairs. After all, she is a resolute ship that has taken up permanent anchorage at her designated harbour. Before, every so often, she would take a drifting excursion as she sought greater comfort from the choppy seas where she felt that she had once again re-gain her old soul. But this time, more so than other occasions, she needed to know that it would be deemed the worthy journey.

*****

Sometime ago, P had decided to bestow upon a certain gentleman the exclusive privilege of entering her world. In that, she would make him the patron of her dark erotic tales whom she would write solely for. That imminent moment had finally arrived and she had identified him to be the one after a couple of false starts. The one- she deemed him an equal, if not a higher being with sophistication in his nimble thought processes (which she very much respects), combined with an indulgent curiosity to mastering the fine art of carnal pleasure (which the notion thrills her to no end as a debauched). It is a given that he is a known ladies’ man who plays the field. However, hinted by an underlying apathy for the affairs of the heart (his writing style laced with romanticized nuances that is carefully balanced with his other humorously wicked thoughts to suggest a certain worldliness and possibly to deflect that self- consciousness in his display of literary gymnastics), akin to the nostalgic sensitivity of a boy who has just tasted the sins of the flesh for the first time with his first love and possessing a disarming vulnerability hinted in that charms he exudes to impress, which begs to suggest his sub-conscious desire to be loved (more than his typical male-sized ego would probably admit), the gentleman appears to retain this aura of innocence that stokes P’s interest. Through her observations and gut feeling, she is most certain that she has finally identified that presence in him as the fit, that ideal which she has sought for the paramount experience of taking a lover.

There is a little [insert name of man in question] in each and everyone of us. Read Casanova/ Incorrigible Flirt with that underlying need to be desired as an attention-seeker or/and as an exposed being. That thought always puts a smirk on her face. He reminds P of her in that bad way. ;)

There is something boy-like about him. After all, boys will be boys. Peel off that elevated status and powered persona he dons as a corporate high flyer, as a deal-maker and as a society man with an encyclopedic knowledge ranging from gastronomy to tasteful living to the profound technicalities of the gentleman’s sport called golf to his artful sensibilities as a wordsmith; and beneath all that, he still retains that ever inquisitive young soul of a boy.

Big Boy, she calls him. That alpha male associated in the great big racy world of vices, temptations and superficialities with his male bonding sessions in that clique-ish high society Big Boys’ Club.

Grown up. But ironically, he is really still a boyin her opinion. Therein, lies the first instant appeal of Big Boy to P.

*****

Much Missed

Some things are better left unsaid...

It's been a while since he mentioned about wanting to meet up again.

Again, it is written so timely when she figured that was it and best to let those memories recede with time...

*****

From: M
Sent: Friday, October 27, 2006 12:31 PM
To: P
Subject: RE: Hi there

Hey, well its good to hear you are taking a break... that is always good.
I can't wait to head off to Malaysia this evening, though i'll be slightly out of touch for a while, cause I'm not going to move from the beach and trekking...
Hope you keep well and to see u some time soon.

Besos
M

From: P
Sent: Tuesday, October 31, 2006 5:48 PM
To: 'M'
Subject: Wishing you all a Happy Halloweeeeeen!!!

Dear M,

Reckon you must be lying lazily on the beaches of Malaysia, presumably with a martini in hand (nah, maybe more like a beer ;))...

It's Halloween again and it never fails to remind me of our time in Paris- the party that we never made it to where Pato and yourself dressed funny... and time flies, it's been 2 years... always makes me feel nostalgic. Paris seemed like yesterday and my memories of those times remain vivid....

Hope you have a scary, scary Halloween and if you are enjoying a good couple of beers, do drink one for me in your merry-making...;)










Muchos besos and much yours,
P