Read me, not my sex

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A reader asked me if I am bisexual.

I did not know how to answer that question.

She read some of my stories and wanted to know.

I know I never hide my appreciation towards wonderful people in my writing. Or in daily life. I will tell anyone I like them if I feel so. It is not genderly or sexually marked. Love is a question of aesthetics. I find a leaf beautiful or I find a flower charming it doesn't matter if they are gay or straight. There was even a period of time in college when I unconsciously called every petal in the name of a leaf. I thought they were the same, the same type of natural beauty. But this question has been coming back to me again and again since the day she asked me. What puzzles me is obviously not my sexual orientation, it is the fact that the way I appraise these ladies in my writing mostly leans towards a demonstration of sexual desire. What a pity that sex seems to be the ultimate way to appraise a lady. What a shame that even in the realm of words I cannot imagine another way of flattering a girl.

Admit it. You are just an animal. Raw. The body has been your answer. It points to where you wanna go and where you wanna linger.

The reader also asked if I will feel ashamed or embarrassed for writing those explicit words. It never occurred to me that those words can be a source of shame or embarrassment. In fact, I think I preserve the most honest and true part of me in my words. I frequently am ashamed of what I did in front of others when I had to put on a mask when I could not say what I felt like saying or behaved what I would not behave otherwise. Never ashamed of truth. Even if people find it intimidating or unacceptable.

It is our Wellness Day, a vacation for us to relax during the pandemic. A compensation for the disappearance of our spring break.

So I could not resist obeying the rules of a day of wellness. I lied in my bed. I watched hilarious TV dramas one by one. I ate sweets and chocolates whatever that is available and does not require any labor to make it ready for being digested. I even felt a headache due to long-time curling up in bed. Then I saw a post of a semi-stranger, a girl who I never spoke to but I've met in real life. She looked like sunshine. You know, the prettier kind. The successful kind. I could not help feeling sour. I'm sorry. Then, in avoidance of my mental breakdown, I went to read my diaries. Diaries keep me sane. They remind me of who I am, what I have done, what has been important to me. They remind me of my life. Then I learn to hug myself by reading my words. Because I've tended to be gentle in words (Well, not including the hateful ones). So I tell myself, do not rush, do not hurry, step by step, you live your life.

Just like this, writing, and living my life.

Welcome to the end of today's diary.

Show me your love if you feel so.

Because the rule is: read me, love me.

People I love:

被 诗 人 奸 污？

那时候，城市有酒

Addicted, not sex.

Mad Women Like Us

古老广州城里的年轻炮王

「援交」一年，再出国读书

Find me if you are adorable

天长地久有时尽

乐趣横生在湾湾

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