I have an opinion of food, smell, absolute turn-ons…

There are many whys and wherefores of what can be considered an object of obsession… affection… lust…This world harbors their children and disperses them unto the young adults and old crooked men. This society can be perceived as a very touchy subject to talk about. Many will hide as it is forbidden to even speak of such that wanders in our imagination every single day. I guess it is because of the embarrassment that is produced by brevities of the unknown. Meaning that if we die, what then was the use of concealing our weaknesses and the temptations that lie deep in the bottom of our hearts which never rests. Would they be meaningful or meaningless? What prospects do they offer? Not a soul on this planet has the answer to this question. Everyone is on the verge of going crazy. Some are successful in breaking and others are not. They cannot deal with themselves, they pivot, trying their very best to avoid all the doors that lead to it. Claiming they know themselves but instead, they fall right in the grave they just dug for temptation. Is it good to lie to myself or better to lie to the person next to me? Like seriously if we are going to be all that we want to be or to have… Why not do it with style? I’m too busy being afraid of myself watching my every move for your peace and happiness.

At this moment, I feel like writing more than I usually would today. Probably it is from the good food I have just digested. Food to me has to be cooked fresh with lots of effort. I expect my food to be scrumptious and pleasing to the eye. Food is romance and adventure packed with salt and spices. The pepper determines if the man that is marrying me is someone who fights through discomfort and does not mind shedding a tear once in a while. At least, it will show me who is fake and who is not in my environment. Cuisine makes me act like a classy person…eating cheese in Switzerland…drinking tea in the evening sun… noticing quality when I see it. Moments like these are something to be treasured away from distortion. Curry and sage, I believe is the cure for depression and anxiety. After I consume the two, I begin questioning if I had anxiety in the first place. Normally, I am relaxed…so I thought. Anxiety is the gateway to assigning mistakes associated with people that hardly existed. However, I still get stressed from time to time. Walking around tense-necked and sidetracked, not paying attention to where my legs are taking me. This happened to me when I took medication for my knee to get better, looking for Carl’s Jr. pursuing the expectation of getting the American Sandwich that I hadn’t had in the longest of forever. The excruciating pain of my saliva glands activating… wanting to bite into that burger so bad, dripping with sauce and a cold beverage. My deepest regret was that I could not afford to do so because of the braces that were holding me back. Started with tragedy…Ends with tragedy…So upsetting wiping my tears from that torturous second. Speaking of torture…I like foreplay. This reminds me of the year when I was on a diet and I hated it. I was miserable with the fact that I could not go against my natural discipline of not having an extra serving. I was divided between hunger and satisfaction. I ate an adequate amount to make me go on and carry out the remains of the day. While also being empty and filled with desire. Of course, I completed the session of portioned meals easily because I adored having a raised appetite for flavors I did not care to taste. Obviously, it was not challenging enough. I needed a stronger dose that would set me into the perpetuation of restrained pleasure. I enjoyed searching for every aspect and variety that could become a testimony in my mouth. So, I could proudly announce that I was the one who had the expensive masterpiece and voted goodness out of it.

Without smell, sense of taste is lessened. That’s why many people hold their breath when they are eating something disgusting. Not a lot of critics like everything that they chew on. Take, for example, my mother complained for a decade that she despises ramen and wants nothing to do with it…until Japan. I admit that smell can be deceiving as it masks all the odor. I briefly recall a Febreze commercial when they had testers to smell supposedly the grossest item in the room. Once their sight was restored, they ran so fast, almost tripping over their own foot. Scents link to historical stories in my life that were either my golden days or a certain dark period. I am sure that perfume is a lingering suspect that ignites all of the nerves to investigate the target that is engulfed in this aura of flowers and muskiness. Yes, I have been drawn to sniffing strangers, water, hair, sheets, myself, hands, feet…Quiet…Don’t interrupt my aromatherapy. Being up close and personal molesting space so I can drift on a plush, a cloud of comfort. Anything to relieve the headaches that I have been having throughout the entire season. Truly, my medicine can stir up bravado inside but I don’t care. What I must be wary of...is my actions that originate from these abnormal thoughts. I can not let thy self be distracted with figments blurring what is real. Aromas is an additional judge that determines what is done in the marriage bed. I dislike it when I have to sweat fragrance while my husband does not do the same. I would like to be aroused by his cologne so that when blindfolded, I explore him entirely. Guessing games are fun… Meanwhile, this is disturbing to the regular mundane. Advert from the gaze of entertainment and instead ask, “I like the perfume you are wearing. Where can I buy it?”. So as to not look weird and suspicious to the other female or gender. Everyone is keen on being about themselves but not of themselves. If somebody asks about their real or physical nature, they are seen as an enemy invading their property. When truthfully, they are not. What is awkward in your viewpoint that you will not casually bring up in a tête-à-tête? Automatically, every personality is assumed to be a stalker. Why not just go for it? Bend the rules a little bit and stand out from the crowd.

Next, is touch. Touch is violence. Touch is permission. Touch is acceptance. Touch is religion. This list can endure for eons… My darling Shepherd lead me with your staff, take me with you. I can’t stand not leaning into your loving arms. Guard me against all principalities that come to harm and threaten our everlasting bond with each other. I want to experience all of You and everything that You are.

Sound is seductive. In the midst of silence, a word, a thought, a frequency unfolds its mask of virility. My ears inspect it like dogs do as their ears become alive and moving. Sometimes, this happens when a certain tone is delivered from either a man with a deep voice eliciting a sweet substance that is so ever beholding. I’m frozen, held captive by its signature. Typically, I determine who is a friend or foe in my world based on this quality. Yeah, I may wear a cold gaze but my attention is smiling and not for the reason you expect. I can be stuck in my fortress of solitude and make peace with it. Nevertheless, this will not cause me to grow or step out of the box to dive into your acuity of splendor. All so foreign, yet so complex. Until it wasn’t…Why must people spoil a conversation with curse words that are so abstract and insulting? I mean, do you want me to punch you in the face? I am highly specialized in that area. Then, again, lies and deception manipulate sound to be unpleasant to me. Why must we destroy such acting? I’d rather engulf voices composed with accents and kindness which are art itself by God. A place that nurtures this environment is ASMR as it causes me to enjoy listening to a person reading while I fall asleep. I think I should elope with someone who has a honey-dipped trans-atlantic style of speaking so even when he gets mad, I still wouldn’t mind indulging in his non-sensical disputes.

Another feature that my adoring God warned about is sight. Repeatedly mentioning to never get distracted as it would be detrimental to plans, schoolwork, and important necessities that would be present in the near future. Shield my eyes as they are the windows to my soul. Don’t let anyone stare into them unless it is Mr.Right. Filter what I see so that sin does not follow me into the wilderness. I admit I am drawn to movies and pictures with vibrant colors. I grew up in a family that is classified in the arts of colors. This trait started from my grandma as she expresses God through teacups and fabrics. My mother was a graphic designer and an art teacher but then she stopped because her hands failed her. My biological father was also into the arts as well. At least to say, I never really met him and I don’t really plan to. I don’t plan to meet either my half-sisters nor brothers. I know we are all related but I would like to not deal with drama. Pink is the color of my distant caricature with him. As I vaguely recognize a pool table and soft-tinted room. Who knew that being there would be chaos in my relationships with others? Just because of one instance, the snow globe I lived in becomes broken and shattered. I was upset…turned illiterate and subtracted from social groups. Yes, I was silent, staring at how our big white house was being raped right in front of me. Blaming myself because I didn’t heed or did anything about it. I should’ve listened…I kept dreaming about myself trapped in the darkness between a circle of fire. A figure spoke, “You are allowed to bring only two items. What would you bring?” At first, I took money and my iPad but even that was the wrong decision. I have been given unlimited chances to make a better strategy and after each delivery, an epiphany popped into my train of thoughts affirming that I must take what I can’t live without.