In response to this:

How can anyone feel anything but appalled by this pathetic excuse for a “feminist” article? This is nothing but a sexist and slut-shaming piece of crap that deserves no one’s applause.

Yes, a lot of men are shitbags who objectify women and see them as goals of their sexual fantasies, but to say that no man describes a woman as beautiful is a complete disrespect for the male population. There are still men who see through women’s “hair extensions,” “large chests,” “big bottoms,” and “stilettos;” men who praise both a woman’s hot body and admiring personality. Stop being a cuntbag who generalize men as dirt of the society, because people like you are just as horrible as the men who you have described.

How can you ask for men to stop defaming women and stop labeling them as sexual objects when you yourself slut-shames anyone who wears fake eyelashes and high heels? Since when is it acceptable to dishonour a woman because of how she looks? This article overflows with hypocrisy.

A woman should not be judged by how short her skirt is, how much makeup she puts on her face is, nor how many men she has slept with. There is nothing wrong with women who own up to their sexuality and who dress like they are ready to take on the world. Women are both hot and beautiful. No questions asked. They just are.

How dare you talk about women in such manner? How can you try and lecture everyone on how to view women when your eyes are just as distorted as everyone else’s? How fucking dare you?

Ugh. I wanna punch your face.

I went on a date and I was thinking about another boy. I couldn’t hold his hand and not think about how wrong everything feels because, no, you are not him! I don’t want to be with anyone else but the boy who left me without uttering a word.

I don’t know why I’m not mad. I should be shouting at him and telling the internet what a fucktard he is, but I couldn’t say anything bad about him. I think about what he has done to me and I always find myself defending him. I would always say that he has issues he needs to deal with, but I don’t know if that’s true. Maybe he just grew tired of me. Or maybe he wanted great sex and I didn’t make the cut.

I would go on a date and compare how dates with him were like. I would always remember how he loved sitting next to me when we’re having dinner or whatever because he likes to kiss me while we’re waiting for the food. He’d hold my hand and kiss my cheeks over and over again until I finally face him and let him kiss my lips as if we’re all alone. I never cared about what other people think when we’re together. I would always act a bit shy at first and cut the kisses short as if I’m some sort of demure teenager, when in fact, I just want to tease him because it seemed like he would never settle for a simple peck and would keep on bugging me until we make out for a few minutes. He’d always tell me that he missed me so much and give the wetest of kisses and I’ll end up gasping. He’d have his hands grasping my legs every time he kisses me and I have never been more glad that I love to wear shorts.

God, he made me love wearing shorts like it should be a religion. He would always draw nonsensical patterns on my legs, or just squeeze them. He loves to touch it so much that I have to try real hard not to squirm in public. I love having my legs touched as much as I loved it when he grabs my ass when we’re making out as if to say it’s his favorite thing in the world. Once, he pulled up my shorts so high I got scared he might rip it apart just to let my butt cheeks feel the air.

I just miss him so fucking much. I thought I was starting to get over him but then I got off the plane and the first message I saw was from him. It took one message for me to go back into feeling like a complete mess. One fucking message just to get me revolving around his fucking sun again. What the fuckidy fuck.

late night musings composed of you and you alone

remembering the fire you built up inside of me with your kisses and your hands that go from my face and then all over

thinking of how you told me not to feel insecure and saying that i was perfect enough for you

clinging on the memory of you saying that all you want is to kiss me until we fall asleep

one day i will forget you and this torment will be over

i will forget about your ridiculous laugh and your weirdly-soft hands and your sweet kisses

i will not remember your words of adoration and your bed head and how you took me piece by piece, day by day

one day i will not remember your name

i will not remember your name and how it pained me whenever i see it scrawled on a goddamn restaurant sign

i will have no memory of you but of how much i loved you

i wish i said it before it was over

then maybe my dreams would not be haunted by how great everything was when we were together

So, I’m kind of dating this boy…

He’s great. He cooks me pasta and buys me beer and lets me punch him when the movie frustrates me so fucking much because duuuude it was so psycho! But then everything also reminds me of the last boy I dated which is so fucking frustrating because how the hell am I going to completely get over him if all I ever do is bring back memories?

He knows that I’m still into the other guy, and I know that he still hasn’t gotten over his ex. Basically, we’re making each other rebounds. It should be fine, right? Everything should be casual yadda yadda, but then he’ll act all sad and shit when I don’t want to go out or if I already have plans when he asks me out on a date and it’s just so fucking frustrating! Like, I told him that I won’t talk to him until he’s read this book and I ignored all of his texts and IMs for three days or so and then he tells me that he missed talking to me but I was just like meh~

The things he does makes me think that he probably really likes me, but I feel like running away and just ignoring him for good whenever I do. 

friediceberg asked:
"It's been really long since I last saw anything posted from your blog. Welcome back Chen!"

Thanks! I think I’ll be in Tumblr more often because Twitter is limiting me from putting so much details and I kind of need to release every goddamn suppressed feeling inside of me. LOL

Anonymous asked:
"Be my canvas as I write my poems, verses of wonder and adoration poured forth onto your skin, take my words for they are yours"

Turn your words into kisses. Turn them into warmth and touch and kiss, yes, more kisses. Kiss me until all I could think of is your lips tracing my skin.

nuold-deactivated20140312 asked:
"I stumbled onto your words and love reading them in chronological order. This blog reads as a memoir of sorts"

Thank you. I’m not sure about the “memoir” bit. The emotions are real, but the events aren’t.