Vixen in a Shutterbox

Dicks, as we know it, better known as the penis in anatomical sense, is both a taboo and an amusement for either half of the earth’s population. (Okay, I’m not sure of that but I myself have a love-hate relationship with dicks, be it a person or just that… thing.)

Okay, let me get this straight. When I mention the word Dick or Orgasm, don’t take it literally, personally or offensively. Grow up, you prick! Don’t read this if you’re under 18 or when you can’t take it cos I’m too tired to give a crap.

Some dicks could ruin your day, some could give you a happy ending, some could just be plain boring and it could be useful in things like poetry and the like. In my case I use it for my art and so far, the Dick department and I have signed a lifetime contract agreeing upon some terms and conditions I would be half-assed happy to disclose. We both know we need each other. How about you? How’s your own version of dick going?

Dicks could be in the form of human beings. Ring a bell? It could be that annoying neighbor who bangs your whole apartment with loud music during the wee hours. It could be that driver on the other lane who cut your way just to be ahead of you. It could be Trump, although this one is socially acceptable— it could be your boss, your office mate who complains and gossips about everything, your brother who keeps on calling you on your ridiculous childhood nickname in front of your cool friends…  For the nth time, you know that a dick is the ex you can’t get over it because he cheated on you, dumped, abused and ghosted on you for no reason. Now here’s the catch… A dick could be you. And you don’t even know it. Surprise!

For the past three months, I’ve been struggling to finish a small-sized painting due to the meticulous job its details require. I recently started putting dicks on it, in relation to its meaning and theme. Don’t think that I’m a psycho or a perv because bitch, it’s art and it knows no boundaries or inhibitions. As I finish my way to paint another dick yet again, it surprisingly reminds me of the vast range of things it can bring to our lives, not to mention that life itself is a dick most of the time. It could fuck you gently or when it’s angry and in the mood, it will fuck you hard you can’t even walk straight with your own pair of feet. And then you wake up the following morning shedding off the fuckery that life brought you only to be struck by another bout of depression, for the lack of a better term. Depression and Dick starts with the same letter. What a coincidence.

There are glorious moments with dicks. When you make someone’s D hard, for example, and you know you’re the one proudly responsible for it. It’s a shining moment. A good feeling. It’s a flattering boner because you must have turned on that human being across you who is equally grammatically proficient and financially stable as you. Let’s face it, you’re witty, smoking hot and gorgeous as hell, most days, men will forcefully shove their Ds on your throat and all you can then you find yourself running for your life. The terror of this whole thing comes after that first dinner date, because that guy’s next target is to undress you without taking into consideration whether or not you’re single or dating because the last time you checked, he’s still a man and he thinks with his brain between his legs like anybody of his kind will do. The world is a huge Tinder app where DPs come handy but true love is so fucking expensive you won’t even think of getting one. The Ds are just there for their pleasure and they’re selfish as fuck, that’s why they’re called dicks after all.

This fascinating thing is a gift. Imagine a world without dicks, would there be new-borns every second? Would you come out as a stronger, self-sufficient woman after dealing with a breakup with the biggest dick you’ll ever find? Would you, by any chance, wish to eradicate the existence of dicks because they could be unbelievably small, stupid and annoying? How about the major D that is life, do you wish not to live it when it knocks you out big time? I doubt it.

Anyway, I only wish to enlighten and please myself this immensely sorrowful morning after I realized a lot of things from living a restless, dreamy life with occasional dicks on the side. (Of course occasional is an understatement) By now, many of you might be fed up of my ridiculous usage of metaphor (so am I) so I’m going to end this with two things:

1.) Choose the worthy dicks in life to challenge you and use them as a weapon. A bazooka, for example. Wipe out all the drama in life by using this new-found bazooka and use it efficiently to your advantage coz dammit, you deserve an O-worthy life! 2.) So when life puts up its dickery drama on you, learn to fuck it or suck it, squeeze, push, pinch, pull, cut, bite, smash, do whatever.

For someone who grew up in the Far East, the sun is unusually up at half past 4 in the morning in Doha.  Most days I wake up a few minutes to half an hour just before my alarm rings which is a huge advantage to prevent the horror of missing a flight but imagine if the sun is a human whose job is apparently be ‘The Sun’, don’t you appreciate its punctuality what with the struggle of just getting up in the morning? :D

Luckily, today, I am massively enjoying the second day of my 4 consecutive days off  otherwise I won’t be writing this to you at 5 AM. You are probably awake by now as your dog is incessantly howling on the other side of your door again and you are annoyed by him for a few minutes just like any other day but I hope you don’t run late to work and may your coffee keep you warm and awake as you like it. As for me, I’m just starting my night while the sun is up to waste away this day with sleeping until the afternoon but I hope you are doing well as you always do. I hope you are immensely happy.

You may not even bother to read this because it’s clear to me that you are no longer wasting your time with anything associated with the person who caused you stress.

Okay, you can stop reading this sappy letter now.

Stop.

Why are you still reading this?

I said stop!

Okay, fine.

I hope that I could make it clear to you that it was never in my intention to make you feel like being played at or not taken seriously due to my unwarranted mood swings. I knew what I did is for the best and I don’t have any regrets except from the fact that we could have ended it gracefully— and we could have remained friends, at least. I am so sorry for everything, if my words cut deep through you. I was hurt too.

Now I understand how inconvenient it is to suddenly stop  talking to someone you used to talk to every day especially during the days that I was lonely and new in this damned city you will be leaving for good. It’s a drastic change more than anything else and I’m honestly having a difficult time eradicating the thought of you in everything that I do. What a shame that while my circadian rhythm disorder is at its peak due to my job, Im stuck in this situation that comes off with the consequences you told me about: that since I was the one who wanted to stop whatever form of contact we have, I will have to suffer and deal with it. Well, that one is harsh but I don’t blame you. On top of that, I was always the same person to leave and return. Silly and stupid, right? This is me in a crazy sense but I am not desperate, I just know how to somehow fight for something potentially worthy except that you made it clear to me since the beginning that this is not something serious. This is not a scene from a movie. And it’s not going to be worth it in any way. I know that now.

But I am grateful that you were honest, I just needed to man up in my own hard way, to leave even if I didn’t want to and go for something that I deserve more than just being put into the gray zone and left wondering what this and that could possibly mean. Well, you made me feel so happy in a way that is not just “for fun” if it were the case for you. It was more than that for me. I was slowly, unknowingly but completely exposing my soul to someone whom I know would definitely be just a stranger again who will keep bits of my secrets like what’s happening now. We are back to being nothing, not even friends. What a shame.

I know that I should know better than writing to you again but you know you can stop reading this in any moment soon. You always have the choice. But since this is the last time that I am ever gonna write to you again, let me be upfront about how I couldn’t forget how you looked at me the first time I came over to that house. It was splendid— my soul has never been touched like that. You looked at me like I was more than just a casual thing. I felt that there was something or maybe I’m just hallucinating if I gave the wrong meaning to your gestures.

By now you might be itching to press delete e-mail…

Along with waking up a few minutes to my normal wake up call, a huge ball of pain immediately forms in my throat, crawling up to let out a sob because it’s you I thought of again when I open my eyes. And I burst into tears knowing that this painful lump has always been you no matter how I mask the sadness with going out, having fun and meeting other guys out of recklessness and sheer boredom as soon as 8AM when I couldn’t sleep since the night before because my room is haunted by your face. I badly needed distraction or I’ll come back to you again while I’m no longer welcome and hated and finally rejected for real. I don’t ever want to bother you or be that annoying girl who keeps on messaging you with nonsense. I clearly know where I stand. Thank you for your anger, I am faced with truth and I hope you will forgive me someday. 

But the thing is, I wish we could have more time to get to know each other besides you once mentioned that you know nothing about me. Honestly, I was so busy protecting myself from the pain that I didn’t realise I wasn’t giving out much detail as to who I am. It’s purely unintentional. I would have loved to tell you a lot of stories about my past, where I grew up, my gross habits (okay this one might be unnecessary haha!), how I mindlessly stick my tongue out when I’m painting… but do you think you would be ready to hear them? Or let’s just say that I was so scared to be vulnerable and to look weak so I didn’t bother to tell you things you wanted to know resulting into you saying that I have never broken down my walls? If I had known this earlier, I would have gladly open up and we could have talked about a lot of things the whole night but we both know you needed to get up early in the morning for work. :D  I am deeply grateful when I heard this from you as I am completely unaware of this side of me until you and another close friend of mine pointed it out. I must have turned into a completely reserved person due to my unpleasant experiences in the past. You see, you’re not alone in having frustrations. That must be what sadness does to people. This might be a bullshit excuse but it’s all said and done, isn’t it?

Maybe if you see me in a different light and you’ll finally realise that I am not the person you thought I am because you have only seen a portion, the dark part, the ugly and the complicated, maybe the situation could have been less worse. I wish you had known me at the right place and the right time. I wish I could make the funny faces you used to do to make me laugh because I know I can do better. Haha! I wish I could hold you tight again peacefully because it was so nice having you close without saying a word. But I know we are young and the worlds still has so much to offer. But as I call it, we are just passing strangers. I wish you all the things you deserve because you are an amazing person with a beautiful heart.

I know I am not the right person to say this but the world is waiting for you to see it again and I know you’re itching to see it as well. Thank you for the time, I have learned so much from you. See you on god-knows-which part of the world when fate permits.