Dirty Balanced Sex

All men are created equal. However, men and women, now that is a completely different story altogether. Living in a modern society with civil and women's rights allows any chap to clearly understand that men and women are not created equal.

There are differences for example in business between men and women, and there are also differences in relationships. For example, a woman may think its okay for her to talk to her ex-boyfriend, but she will forbid her current lover to do so. At the same time there are inequalities in the business world between men and women, where a man may get a certain job over a woman.

Sex is the universal equalizer. Sex is the one place where a man does what he wants to when he wants to and (in most cases) the woman enjoys every bit of it. The "dirtier" it is, the more mutually its enjoyed.

I've realized in life we all keep our double standards, where we want our partners to act one way, even though we don't necessarily act that way ourselves. However, its sex that keeps us going, its sex that keeps us pursuing new relationships when others have failed, and you better believe its sex that allows a man to feel like a man and a woman to enjoy every bit of it. Its exciting, its pleasurable, its a power trip, and most of all if its done right it can even be beautiful. I almost think of it as god's way of keeping the balance, and a tool given to us to pass the various obstacles in the journey of life.

A Wonderful Adventure We All Call Life

We dance and we sing,
and enjoy all that it brings
We sulk and we pout,
When we're not even sure what its all about
We think we understand,
and then fate's hand unravels a new path
A path of hope a path of fear,
just when we're sure the inevitable is near
We pray for the safety of our child or wife
but the adventure is not over its a journey of life
Once in a while our bonds are tested
just to ensure our priorities have not rested
We learn from the twist and the strife
that in the end its a wonderful adventure we all call life.

Making a difference

The words sometimes sound like a cheesy slogan. It seems so insignificant the little actions of our lives and what they may seem to be in the ocean that we call life. It seems like there are so many ways to do it. But making a difference is an act of passion. If it is not, well then it is just a cheesy slogan.

I've read some books by some extraordinary people, but the way Mr. Gregory David Roberts has accounted for his life, and the events that make up his life is a testament to the fact that the "little" actions of our lives do end up turning into waves in an ocean of life that sometimes even crash on others to make a difference.

Have I made a diffence? Well after 27 years of existence I like to think I've made some difference. I know I've taught a close cousin how to speak English, which is one of my better differences, and probably one of my worst differences I've made is that I've presented certain people with certain options that they probably wouldn't have had if it were not for me.

I've done many things, some good, and some bad, but nothing as significant as I'd like it to be. The pen is mightier than the sword, and this is an exact truth. The influence of words has formed nations, started wars, and restored order. But all of it can be attributed to somebody who just wanted to make a difference.

Sensational Little Feelings

1. When you get up and decide to dance, no matter who is watching.

2. When your favorite team makes the game winning play.

3. When you decide to finally talk to the person you were shy about approaching.

4. The first sip of the first cup of coffee in the morning.

5. The first day after you get over a cold.

6. When your head finally stops spinning after a hangover.

7. The first bite of food when you have the munchies.

8. First paycheck of a new job

9. Winning a fight with a customer service representative.

10. When a song reaches your favorite part.

The Run of My Life

I agreed to help my sister move out of her apartment in Boston. I had to take a bus up there. To get to the bus, I had to take a train. To get to the train I had to drive home, park my car, and then get a ride there. Be that as it may for my sister, I was willing to go thru all the trials and tribulations that lead up to me finally getting a Uhaul and dragging all her stuff down to wonderful New Jersey.

Anyhow, with all the hoops and hurdles I had to run thru, I was bound to run late and I did. I couldn't believe how late I actually ran. I missed the first train I had to catch and that set me back by 40 minutes. Which inevitably left me late for everything else I had to catch. So as I was on my second (of 3) trains, I decided I was gonna change my plan. I decided I was gonna take the Path train to the World Trade Center and risk getting to the bus to Boston.

So finally, I had my mind made up. My bus ticket was non-refundable, and if I missed it I'd probably have to buy another ticket, and wait an hour. I got off the train at 5:45 PM at the world trade center, and I had no idea which way the Bus was. I figured I can catch a cab. But like I said, it was 5:45 PM and getting a cab was practically impossible. There was a cop on the street and I decided to ask him if he knew which way Canal Street was. "Yeah, about 9 blocks that way". I took off. With my work clothes on and a duffle bag hanging across my body, I took off in the direction of Canal street. I ran passed people, on the street, jumped over objects, and accidentally hit innocent pedestrians without realizing it with my bag.

"You okay!?" a cop yelled. I said "which way to the Fung Wah bus?" He yelled "Five blocks up that way". Once again, I took off. This time it was worst because I was in China town, so it was packed. I didn't have a watch and couldn't gauge how much time I had, and on top of that it was up hill. For a split second, I decided I should quit and then it hit me that I ran too hard and too far to quit. So I sucked it up, and ran with all my might towards the bus.

I arrived at a red light. There was tons of New York City traffic between me and my bus. I waited, let the light change, and sprinted towards my bus. With sweat dripping dripping down my body and onto my fingers I grabbed my ticket and gave it to the Asian lady. I boarded the bus, looking like I just stepped out of a shower with all the confidence in the world.

I sat down and put my bag down and pulled out an extra t-shirt to dry off. It was in that moment I realized the power of Pushing. In that ironic stupid little moment I knew I had what it takes to get something done. Its a beatiful feeling.

The Beauty of Poison

I've come to realize that poison is beautifully powerful. It occured to me today that a single drop of poison can make an entire glass of water lethal. One tiny little drop of poison can completely and utterly affect an entire glass of water.

Then it occured to me, that people can also be like poison (in both a good sense, as well as a malicious sense). Hitler was like poison, but I'd also tell you that so was Mahatma Gandhi or Nelson Mandella. There aren't too many people in this world who are like poison. Like anything else, these people come in different shapes/forms, and of course they can bring about a good or a bad change.

No matter what the case, you have to sit back and at least admire when someone has the ability to do that. When someone can create so much change in a world that seems to be so much greater than a glass of water. Which naturally brings me to my next question. What does it take to be like poison? Is great suffering involved, before great change can occur?

I'm simply of the belief that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. So if someone goes thru a lot of bad shit in their life, and some point in some way it may balance out and the person can do something truly remarkable. Nelson Mandella, Mahatma Gandhi, and even Oprah all suffered a great deal before they made a beautiful change in the world we now occupy.

Life Lesson: Lauging with the Sinners

I've decided that as I go thru life I'll take time occasionally to share the small things that I learn. I figured I'll call these things Life Lessons, and I hope there are many more to come.

I've realized that in life, it is easier to laugh with the sinners than to cry with the saints. As we tread thru the waters of life, we often realize that laughter makes our lives more fulfilling. However, we rarely want to take time to cry with the saints. Laughter usually means we are in good company having a good time.

However, crying may not suggest so. In my opinion, crying is much more important than laughter. While laughter may give our lives fulfillment, it is crying that gives our lives meaning. Crying makes you realize that you've lost something you don't want to live without. It may mean your in a situation where you are so overwhelmed with joy that the only appropriate response has to be weeping. Crying, is very important. Without it, we'd never know what we stand for, what we care for, and what we live for.

Enjoy life, laugh with the sinners, but please be sure to cry with the saints.