Mistress Wael | Elite Female Domination

Category: My Personality

Je Ne Sais Quois | Every Mistress Has It

That “je ne sais quois” , we both have it. Mistress Wael is incredibly, absolutely, extremely, supremely, unbelievably different than the creature of femdom I have become. In trying to explain just why exactly that is to a gentleman who partook of Wael’s style last night , I found myself calling her here from school just to discuss why she thinks I’m so hardcore. This is the email that set off my deep train of thought:

John James
9:18 AM (1 hour ago)

to me
I went to see Wael last night, it was amazing! I had a great time. She told me that you are harder? do you do it harder? I go back to England in 5 weeks. I will try to book with you before then. I want to see you so bad, especially after you sent those pics.

My immediate reply to him was as such:

jaa4u.com | Goddess <[email protected]>
10:30 AM (14 minutes ago)

to John
We’re different Wael and I.

She says I’m harder only because she’s been involved in a few sessions where the guy wanted extreme domination and I complied , and once she witnessed that side of me it did two things for her. Most importantly, it showed her that one can be completely normal even if once in a while a certain side needs to be unleashed , kind of like Batman.

I think that helped her accomplish sessions like yours must have been last night , because now she knows she can wake up today and be the same sweet girl.

The other thing being with me taught her is that we , acting as a mistress , must scale our personality to the personality of the man we are seeing. Some like seduction , some like to be kept confused and thus on edge , and some need a good bloody fight to secede and relinquish power.

She is still holding on to her love of Thai traditions , Thai religious practices .. hell , she’s going on an all day pilgrimage tomorrow to climb a mountain in Chantaburi just to pray and seek the wisdom of a fortune teller. So she’s more tormented than I am by doing what she did with you last night. I heard you had a wild ass exploration experience 😛

Her view of me being harder also comes from her view of my choice to shed myself of anything and everything that has to do with being Thai. I think she interprets my hatred for this place as me being hard. That’s not true though. I’ve been hardened from the life I’ve had.

So to answer your question, do I do it harder? I can. I can do it lighter as well. I can do it as sexy as you can take it , or as bad ass as you can endure. Depends what I read into you.

xx

I’m on a lunch break here at my German language class so I don’t have time to fully go into things.

But I do have some stuff I’ve written down in drafts of posts yet unpublished that are like thoughts I have at 3am on some nights that cause me to wake up and download to writing just what’s bothering my mistress mind.

One of those scribblings relates well to what his email was asking:

“They laugh at me because I’m different; I laugh at them because they’re all the same.”

What men don’t get is that the shit they try on other women absolutely and unequivocally doesn’t work on girls like me.

I can be talking about domestic violence just as equally as I can be talking about a dude flirting with a girl at a bar.

In tonight’s session this guy asked me if meeting a mistress accidentally in a real life setting can be as unsettling as this movie scene:

https://youtu.be/vBZJXEqBfbY

Yes, absolutely.

For example, let’s say that’s me in the clip that he’s coming on to. He’s basing my possible reactions to all his verbiage based on the sum of his previous interactions with girls in his life, correct? So by that measure, there is no possible way he can gauge my reactions because I’ve kicked over one hundred guys in the balls , what other woman has done that?

I’ve seen men beg , cry even , being tied to my bed and at my mercy as I hold their swollen cock in my hand for the forth hour in a row. I’m not talking the average Joe on the street either, I’m talking big 6’4″ dudes that tower above me and have scary ass neck tattoos.

I’ve fed men , kicking and screaming underneath my ass , right from the source to their throat and then stood above them watching them eat it without complaint – for doing so would permanently end any further contact with me.

Last week I fed a man to twelve ladyboys right here in this room and watched while sipping tea as they gang raped him for two straight hours. I watched that the way an alpha wolf would watch over his pack devouring a slaughtered deer, without emotion as it was just part of the life cycle we’re all involved in.

Around this time last year I broke a personal milestone by sticking 100 needles through a guys cock and balls – after – I had stuffed the biggest catheter tube down the hole of his cock. Then I subjected him to an hour of tickle torture which made him bounce his pin filled balls all over my marble floor. Took an hour to mop up the blood thereafter.

Do you think that there is anything the guy in the video can say to a girl like me to phase me , rock my world , or make my heart flutter? I quarrel with such men the way a boot quarrels with an ant.

At the fashion show last night (sorry for the Gomer Pyle cover up) , every male model took time at the party to seek me out. There were countless girls there , some taller than me, some bigger breasted than I , some rocking a million baht or more of name brand clothes and accessories, yet none of them had that “je ne sais quois” which allured all the men to me. That “je ne sais quois” comes from not just meeting over 10,000 men the past five years, but making each and every one of them beg for my favor.

“You’re so Un-Thai-Like” said the Italian model to me over a beer.

“That’s because I’m not Thai” i said back to him.

“But you are born from here, you live here, surely you are Thai.

“Surely , I’m not. Contemplate that , it’ll take you an evening of thought to get to the bottom of what that means exactly.”

I know, it’s hard to be philosophical with a beer in the hand and three super hot guys all posing for selfies with me , but that reply is truly deep. The comment went right over his head, I hope it doesn’t go over yours though. I would have said the same thing had I been born in Holland or France or Canada or New Zealand. Does that help?

“Je ne sais quois” at its heart means “i cannot relate to the feeling that’s being inspired inside me because I cannot quite put a finger on it for some reason.”

To elicit that type of reaction in men – DAILY – it thus means that I have life experiences so very far removed from anyone else that they just cannot categorize me. While that may be exciting for a guy , for me it means isolation.

“Je ne sais quois” means to be different. So different that I become a word on the tip of your tongue , but you can never remember.

I have life experiences that you just can’t relate to. “Here’s us$3,000 , go live in Russia for a year. There’s no coming home early , and there’s no possibility of asking for further assistance from family or friends.” Could you do it? I did. (well not Russia, but ..)

What if you had to live under a bridge wile in Russia for a couple of weeks, shivering in the cold with nothing to eat. Would you find a way to survive? I did.

Am I being melodramatic? Nah, i’m just stating facts. What’s cool about that though, is I’ve noticed people are repelled like a magnet from anything that does not fit in with what is in their definition of normal. If you have the stomach for it, watch the reaction of the people who witness this car disintegrate , and then just continue to cross the road. Or in the same video , this taxi driver who crushes a girl on the road and yet , cannot or will not face the reality of what just happened.

Interestingly, both those pedestians and the taxi driver were gifted a bit of “je ne sais quois” after experiencing those situations. A tiny bit, but a bit nonetheless.

Bear with me, i’m gonna try to explain this next bit as best I can even though it’s 4am and i’m still a bit drunk.

While people are gaining these bits of “je ne sais quois” , they’re wholly reproachable. My first bdsm sessions that I did on my own after Jaa retired were not that great. There’s a hidden sense – like an odor – that each guy was picking up on , that revealed I didn’t have the life experience needed to move the needle on how they wanted to feel in session with me.

Ya I kicked their balls. Yes I teased them. Yes I seduced them. Each time picking up a fragment of the “je ne sais quois” , like filling a bottle of milk a drop at a time. But they weren’t great sessions, I admit that.

To extrapolate away from mistress life … I did live under a bridge in a foreign country – while attending college. In those first three months there , I was as repulsive as a skunk. I couldn’t get a friend for the life of me , I sat by myself in class , and yet I was picking up these drops of “je ne sais quois” by surviving. By finding a job , by working all evening , by finding a 4 foot by 8 foot “room” to live in , by buying food, then clothes, then a tutor, then a nicer place to live – the bottle filled and as it did I stopped repelling people.

Here’s the cool thing though. By the end of that college year , I was the most popular girl in all my classes.

My theory on why that was : because I had acquired so much “je ne sais quois” from my totally abnormal experience there that I suddenly became “that girl who has something elusive about her” and I had groups of guys begging to help me with my English every night. One guy , Roger, would bring me steak dinner from the restaurant he worked in at 11 pm , and he’d do so every night. Eight months earlier, none of them would give me the time of day.

Similarly , getting back to my mistress life , around two years ago I just knew I could command men. Took about a hundred sessions to get to that point , but once I reached it – my “je ne sais quois” went through the roof. It helped that somehow around three years ago I got really hot after coming back from oversees , but honestly it’s more than that.

It’s the sum of everything in my life … starting when I shed myself of being the typical Thai girl and rebelling back in school and drawing the ire of every teacher I ever had. I have acquired a shit ton of “je ne sais quois” , like 500 more gallons than anyone that I’ve seen has.

I think I passed out after writing that final sentence if I remember correctly , it was like a year ago that I wrote it. My “je ne sais quois” value has a few hundred more bottles accumulated since then. Makes guys absolutely melt when they see me.

Tongue in cheek thought of the day before I go write this German test :

Wael’s going on what basically amounts to a pilgrimage tomorrow to ask a broke as fuck fortune teller “seeped” in orange garbs with the wisdom a thousand gold painted elephant statues has imparted on him… to ask said guru to send her a boyfriend (for a few hundred baht payment)

That’s gotta be worth 3 or 4 drops of “je ne sais quois” life experience liquid for her don’t ya think? lol

xx

[one_half][formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half] [one_half_last][formcrafts id=’20566′ name=’Session With Wael’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half_last]

March 2, 2017
Poverty Explained in 3 Stories

Nah it’s not that bad (living in a poor country). I live on the American Embassy compound with a pool, gym, bar, tennis court etc. My co-worker and I are members of the American club which has even better facilities and there are some nice pockets in these places with cool restaurants and stuff.

I think you might enjoy this lifestyle. I know you have an insatiable thirst for knowledge and learning and I know you are interested in people. In a different life or maybe even in this life, if you wanted, I reckon you would make a great anthropologist!

You said you would be miserable living somewhere poor like this but I think you underestimate yourself. Living in these kinds of places are more challenging but they are also more rewarding, in my opinion anyway. I think you would find great inspiration for your writing and you would have more time on your hands to do whatever you wanted than you would anywhere else. Plenty of people are miserable in those cities you listed as well, I guess it just comes down to what you make of where you are?

“It’s not that bad” living in a poor country he says to me ?? As a lifelong impoverished citizen of MagicLand®, i wholeheartedly disagree. Why?

Well that’s because the person living in said poor country hasn’t lived one single day in poverty , whereas every mistress who has ever written for this site has. So I asked former mistress Jaa and Wael to join me in writing about our past so that you guys may better understand our roots and what perhaps your MagicLand® girlfriend has most likely been through herself. However before I paste their stories down below let me give you some basic information on just how bad things are in MagicLand® .

See when I said that your MagicLand® girlfriend has ‘most likely’ been through the hell of poverty , well that’s because the unemployment and poverty numbers you read online about where I live are glossed over to make things seem rosier than they are. Those in control of presenting MagicLand’s statistics like to boast that we have among the lowest unemployment rate in the world at .6% which is total horse shit.

45% of all jobs are seasonal. There are two times per year where we harvest crops and in those six weeks there are jobs a plenty. The rest of the year half the country is unemployed.

Ya, Half

Like fuck. You show me another country in the world where half the country is unemployed for 88% of the year and I’ll show you a country that’s more fucked up than MagicLand.

Do you know what a worker tuck is? Here’s a photo of one. Do you know why all the workers are packed in like sardines? Because at current wages , most workers cannot afford their own transportation to and from work. If they were forced to find their own way there and back they’d have to cut out a good portion of their allowance for food. These trucks leave at 6am and return at 8pm , 6 days a week. That’s a 72 hour work week which brings home just enough money to buy a bag of rice and live in a shanty.

So in review. Half the country is unemployed for 88% of the year. Half the country makes $10 a day.

That’s nowadays. But lets rewind the clock a monstrous amount of time … like oh say 10 years. Well ten years ago when I was still a teenager the minimum wage was $4 a day , not enough money to eat. Wages have been kept that low from the beginning of time until a decade ago, meaning that pretty much every single person’s mother and father grew up in extreme poverty.

When I’m farrrrrrrrrr away from here with no need to ever return, I’ll then have the gift of free speech and will explain to you in great detail why this has been the way of things , but for now let’s focus on the what and not the why.

School here ain’t free. Put that in the back of your memory, I’ll come back to it in a minute.

In the 50’s and 60’s the average number of kids a woman of my kind pumped out was 6 in her lifetime. That number dropped to 5 in the 70’s and 4 in the 80’s. As recently as 2010 women were spewing out 2 kids per lifetime and that’s now about to drop to less than once.

Why?

Well because people don’t remain stupid forever. One can try to prolong stupidity but change is happening slowly but surely.

So getting back to school and the fact that half the population of MagicLand® had to find a way to give 6 kids an education with not enough money to go around for food. Quite the problem huh?

I assume that in the USA, Australia , Switzerland , England you send your kids to school for free right … once they turn 4 years old? And at that school things like paper , pens, pencils , books are provided?

In MagicLand® you have to pay for the pencil.

In MagicLand® you have to pay for the paper.

In MagicLand® you have to pay for the uniform.

If one didn’t have enough money for a uniform well … one simply couldn’t go to school until that person applied for assistance. But that was a moot point because as you’ll read below in Jaa’s story – male kids were always given priority over females in terms of who won the fight over the tiny bit of money available to send a child to school. That’s because MagicLand® is a patriarchal society and back then males had a better chance at making money than women did.

That’s not to say women didn’t have a very lucrative role to serve for the family. Even as most women were taken out of school before grade 6 and had to learn the ways of a domesticated life , they still carried something that was worth their weight in gold. Care to guess what that is? Yes I used ‘ is ‘- in present terms rather than ‘was’ in past tense because “it” still goes on today. If you want to shoot the shit in email I’ll help you fill in between the lines but I sure as hell ain’t saying out loud what truly goes on in inner city MagicLand.

Let’s just say that Podesta , the Lolita Express , Pizzagate … fucking nothing compared to what goes down in MagicLand. (The first moron who emails me asking “where is this magicland anyways?” gets his balls wrecked 100 times by my foot. There’s always one dense idiot out there.)

But today I’m discrediting the claim that ‘it’s not that bad living in a poor country’ so let’s continue debunking that shall we.

My Story

I can’t be too open with my story here because for one – I’m writing about it for my book so I don’t want to give away too much – and secondly there are a couple of pretty disgusting people out there who feel they are excluded from the laws of libel and slander just because they live in a foreign country. A day will come – hopefully – where I get to blow his fucking dog’s head off with a shotgun , but until then I must keep who I am somewhat of a mystery in my blog.

That being said , I know what poverty is. It’s a horrible situation to endure mostly because there seems to be no way out. I’ve seen shit with my own eyes that , well , you just can’t comprehend how off the charts bad it was when talking about how poor people in the village get exploited.

I learned early though to follow the saying in this photo to the letter of the law. I focused on finding a way out and I became a rebellious cunt because of my determination. Let me tell you that every beating I took at school , every evening I went without food , every argument I had with people about being so un-****-like was worth it now that I look back at it.

I don’t give a fuck that I don’t have a single girlfriend here. I don’t care a single iota that I spend all my days alone. Because I care about two things and two things only in this world.

One is my allegiance to my mother. The other is finding someone who believes in me so that I can turn all my life experiences into love.

I care not to dwell on the past because I cannot change it. The only thing I can control is the present and to have goals for the future.

Wael’s Story

ตอนที่ฉันเป็นเด็ก ฉันอาศัยอยู่กับน้องสาวและครอบครัว ที่*******เรามีฐานะยากจน ทุกวันๆเราต้องไปขุดหาหน่อไม้ ในป่า ทุกวันต้องหาหน่อไม้วันละ 3 ชั่วโมง บางที่ทั้งวัน ขุดหน่อไม้ 3 ชั่วโมง ได้หน่อไม้ 1 กิโลถึง 2 กิโล หลังจากนั้นนำไปขายที่ตลาด 1 กิโลได้แค่ 5 บาท เป็นจำนวนเงินไม่มากนัก ต้องนำเงินนั้นมาซื้ออาหารและไปโรงเรียน ฉันทำงานตั้งแต่อายุ 10 ขวบ และน้องสาวของฉันเป็นคนพิการ ไม่เหมือนคนอื่น ฉันต้องดูแลเขา และครอบครัว ฉันต้องทำงานหนักทุกวัน จนถึงทุกวันนี้ ฉันต้องดูแลครอบครัว พ่อ แม่ ลูก และน้องสาวของฉัน ถ้าฉันไม่ดูแลเขาพวกเขา พวกเขาจะไม่มีเงินและอดตาย เพราะทุกคนไม่มีงานทำ และแม่ของฉันต้องดูแลลูกสาวของฉัน ฉันไม่เคยได้เห็นหน้าลูกของฉัน เพราะฉันต้องทำงานอยู่ที่****** เกือบทั้งหมด เงินที่ได้มา ฉันต้องดูแลครอบครัวทั้งหมด เกือบทั้งหมด เป็นชีวิตของคนไทย ที่ต้องทำงานหนัก และเพื่อดูแลครอบครั

So basically she’s saying that she grew up somewhere up north living with her sister at her mom and dad’s place. Her house is the small square one with the thatched roof and laundry in the middle if you’re looking at the photo down below. To make money the whole family went out in the fields looking for bamboo plants to bring back and sell at the market. Each person would try to collect approximately 1kg of bamboo which could then be sold at the market for 5 baht. It’d take about 3 hours to scavenge and transport back to the house a kilo of bamboo. On the weekends they’d each spend half a day out looking for greater quantities to sell.

Even though Wael’s sister was born with down syndrome , she was required to pull her share of the burden because there are no benefits for those born with disabilities here. But Wael would try to carry as much as the burden as she could so her sister could rest. The family as a whole would get by on 200 baht per day which is about equivalent to what me and my mom got by on. Works out to about $6 a day which is inline with what salaries would have been like back then.

Gotta keep in mind that like my family , her family lived on the outskirts of town. In her case, a good 30km outside of the city so there were no factory jobs where she lived. Anyways, she goes on to say that even today the onus of responsibility is upon her to take care of her mom , her dad, her disabled sister and her daughter. Though Wael has two daughters she saw them only once per year up until a while ago. She left them in her mother’s care after she finished university and moved to the big city to work as a chef. Then I found her, rescued her by showing her alternate possibilities in life.

She finishes by saying that she still sends money to her family every month. Then she says the same thing I told you … that pretty much all of us are bound by this responsibility of taking care of family because if they didn’t , the entire family tree would plunge back into poverty and starvation.

The Pig and the Python

There are no RRSP’s here. No 401K’s . No dividend paying mutual funds. There’s plenty of lottery tickets though … they make sure any scrap of unspent money gets recirculated back into their pockets. Average lifetime saving of a 60 year old retiree here is 0 bucks no whammys.

Ah but change is coming as the pig is about to explode out the ass end of the python. See all those 6-8 child families born in the 50’s and 60’s that I talked about … well they’re all reaching 60-70 years old now.

And remember that birth rate I talked about , you know , that statistic that shows the average chick like me is having 0 babies now. Means when the 30% of the senior citizen population dies off this decade there’ll be nobody to replace those jobs going forward.

The book The Pig and the Python is about how to invest wisely to take advantage of the post WWII baby boom. Since the same population demographics are even more dramatic in MagicLand, we can also take advantage of the pig blowing out the ass end of the python. If you agree with me that girls my age are done with being poor here , and showing it by keeping our legs shut … well then I’d start short selling the stock market short right about now. Of course there’s always the chance those free magic pills they handed out on Valentine’s day will work dramatically.

MagicLand. Magic Pills. … Riiiiiiiiight.

So if it’s “not that bad” living in a poor country , why are girls keeping their legs shut ?

It its not that bad , why can I not wait to live 9,000 km away from here.

If it’s not that bad , why do I continue to dream of a place where dreams really do come true? For on this side of the rainbow, they don’t.

xx

[one_half][formcrafts id=’10805′ name=’Book A Session’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half] [one_half_last][formcrafts id=’20566′ name=’Session With Wael’ align=’left’][/formcrafts][/one_half_last]

February 19, 2017
How Resident Evil drove me to German

I had an epiphany last week. It occurred while I was watching the latest Resident Evil movie. I spend 2 hours each and every day pretty much sitting in a movie theater watching a movie that I absolutely hate because watching it makes me stupid. Hollywood thinks I am an idiot.

It’s as if the day after Roger Ebert died the entire movie industry let out a huge sigh of relief and said, finally we can make movies as dumbed down as we want. The movies now are so fucking bad that it makes me sick to my stomach to have to sit through one of them.

At one point in Resident Evil I stopped watching the movie to do two experiments. The first one was to actively try to count the edits in a one minute period , do it ten times and average out the number of cut scenes my eye has to absorb in a sixty second time frame.

The results were staggering: 102 , 112, 121 , 65 , 31 , 111 , 109 , 150 (i couldn’t keep up) , 23 , 48.

87.2 edits per 1 minute of movie is the average. That’s fucking insane. That’s one cut scene every 3/4 ‘s of a second on average.

You know what the purpose of that is … because lets face it , you don’t put out a hundred million dollar movie without being actively aware of the product you’re shipping … the purpose is to bombard you with so much sensory overload that your brain can’t possibly reflect on what a bag of shit you’re watching.

My second test wasn’t as scientific, but I wanted to see if by fully plugging my ears if I could still hear the movie and dialogue (what little there was) without straining. The answer … I nearly smashed two holes in my brain trying to create a perfect vacuum and the movie was still excruciatingly loud. So I did one more experiment. I got out of my seat , walked out of the theater and pressed the door ajar , and began counting the number of steps I could get from the theater before I stopped hearing the sound of the movie.

40.

I got 40 fucking steps away from the theater , almost to the bathroom before I couldn’t hear the film any longer. Also fucking insane.

I want to go back and see the movie again , this time with a set of Bose noise block headphones , the kind that block out all noise from the outside world , and see if watching the movie with those on makes the movie more enjoyable. Probably not because?

Because it has no plot. Just like the XXX the movie I saw the day before … absolutely no plot. No character development. None whatsoever.

I have yet another theory , but I’d need a comprehensive knowledge of guns to properly calculate the ratios , and as I have zero knowledge of such things I’d have to guesstimate.

I call it the hit/miss ratio of bullets fired to actual targets hit, where the ratio is inversely proportional to how much I’ll enjoy the movie. In other words , if like in the movie XXX where I lost count at guesstimating 500 bullets failed to hit one single target from a range of less than 20 meters , the movie is going to grate on my nerves.

Ok , i’ll make a one time exception for Star Wars as neither Darth nor the Emperor had the foresight to teach aim to their droids and storm troopers , yet the movies are enjoyable. Maybe space as a location is exempt from my hit / miss ratio theory. I’d actually love to make an entire website based on this theory but that’d require seeing every movie I’ve ever hated again and well … fuck that.

My epiphany by the way was this : “you’re wasting your life watching this shit day after day , go challenge yourself.”

Because sitting around waiting for a great movie to be released … like Memento for example … one that takes brains to watch ( good luck with that re-release , you’ll have to put subtitles) ain’t gonna happen. I even tried to sit through Jackie as it’s an academy award nominee and fuck me if that isn’t the most boring piece of shit I’ve had to sit through in a year.

So guess what I’m doing now?

I’ve enrolled in full time German language study. By full time I don’t mean hiring a tutor to come teach me for an hour a day , I mean an actual year long 6 hours a day immersion in the language. Why German? Well you take what’s available. Thailand has become little Germany so the language is available everywhere. Hey had Iranians invaded Pattaya the way the Germans have, I’d be studying Farsi now , but they didn’t , so German it is.

Will it be hard to learn? I sure as hell hope so. I’m dying to put my brain back to good use and challenge myself at something. The worst I do is fail , at best , I can order anything I want in Pattaya next year.

What does this mean for you guys? Only that the first session of the evening will start at or around 7pm instead of 5pm as I had been doing the past few years. Second sessions would begin around 9:30 pm.

When do I start? Tomorrow. I don’t believe in wasting any more time.

xx

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February 2, 2017
One Foot – To the Other | Merry Christmas

“How?” I said , can I be glad and sad – but a person goes from one foot to the other.

Christmas, that lonely, lovely crowded place in our heads.

At Christmas, some of us hunger for a larger family life than perhaps we had.

We were a family of three, we could never afford a holiday feast let alone a gift.

But I had dreams , even living in a country where Christmas is only an un-celebrated day off , the books I had read always made me dream of friends , Santa , and gifts under a pine tree.

Thank you dreams. You are the large family which comforts.

It doesn’t have to be typical.

Just as I told my friend , hospitalized since the summer and struggling with Leukemia , to dream of making it to this holiday so I could sit beside her and she can open my gift , I also found a dream to place in my heart. To honor her , and her courage, throughout the year.

If there was one picture to keep in your Christmas heart , it’d be this one , from the man who dreamed bigger than any of us ever have …

Christmas is not about a binge of presents.

It’s actually very much about that which is taken from us.

It’s about the gifts of courage , passion , and honor we receive when – on our knees , someone stands beside us.

Sad , and glad – from one foot …

… to the next.

Merry Christmas everybody.

xx

December 25, 2016
Queen’s Gambit | The Game

If you live here , you’re a stereotypical expat no matter how much you claim not to be – and as such Thai girls will avoid you like the plague.

I just read a charming introductory email from an expat smartly titled Pawn to Queen 4 – who does his best to claim he’s not typical of the kind that reside here in Bangkok :

Pawn to Queen 4

Hi Mistress,

Hope life is wonderful for you.

My name is xxxx, I am xx years old and I live and work in Bangkok. Yes I could potentially be categorized as a ‘long time Bangkok’ resident. All I can say in my defense here is that I don’t believe that I conform to the typical stereotype of a long time expat in town (although you may disagree). I can’t even converse in Thai after close to a decade in BKK.

I arrived in Thailand many years ago thinking that I would stay only a short time and enjoy the nightlife, beaches and weather, but by some twist of fate I ended up finding an unexpected career path, which led to my extended stay. In short I ended up working more, playing less in Thailand than I had done in the UK.

After pushing myself fairly hard in recent years I now own and run a series of businesses in Bangkok and by day I am used to answering to nobody but myself. A situation, which I am sure you are all too familiar with 🙂

I am a relatively confident heterosexual guy on the surface (important in my line of work) but quite submissive/shy on the inside.

I have been with a few different types of girl in Thailand as you can imagine. But I haven’t been able to find someone suitable to settle down with.

That perfect combination of wild, intelligent, dangerous and beautiful seems pretty elusive by and large.

I have tried to compromise several times. Usually it’s the intelligence piece which suffers 🙂 but there is a limit to how many dates a guy can go on where the other party thinks London and New York are on the same continent..:)

Conclusion right now is stay single and experiment with the darker side of life.

jaa4u.com | Goddess <[email protected]>
8:20 AM (22 minutes ago)
Queen’s Gambit opening … really? I would just respond with Lasker’s Trap and you’d immediately be my bitch … but that’s what you would have wanted all along isn’t it? So perhaps initiating with such a common opening is actually a submissive ploy by you , thus making you quite clever.

http://www.wikihow.com/Use-Lasker’s-Trap
Meanwhile, all expat’s claim to be not the stereotypical type of their kind , but you can’t escape it because if you’ve lived here long enough you know the game and how its played as well as a chess master knows Queen’s Gambit and all the possible counters before the game is even played out.

You just have to look over Craigslist and see that most w4m posts made by Thai girls take care to mention that they are looking for somebody ‘passing through’ Bangkok and will refuse to see anyone who lives here. It’s because .. she knows … that he knows … what her game is , and frankly , there are easier fish to catch here.

For the typical ex-pat , there actually is no limit to how many times he can date a girl who thinks New York and London are on the same continent , and that’s because guys like to fuck hot chicks , and for the most part we’re way hotter than girls from first world countries. So while I can agree that it may be teeth grinding to have caveman level conversations with the latest Thai girl you’ve picked up , the thing that makes that endlessly endurable is knowing within 2-3 hours you’ll be balls deep inside any one of her three holes.

And while she might put up a fuss over “no anal” at first , waving an extra 1,000 baht note in front of her face produces the key to the secret dungeon.

Therein lays the game. She knows that a passer-through type has no clue that everything can be bought here, and thus wouldn’t think anal sex is a possibility with her, giving her an easy one night stand.

I’m not focusing on the anal part of it , it’s an stand-in for any one of the thousands of unnecessary complications she can avoid by going with a bkknoob.

Since this post is going in my “So You Wanna Live Here” category , let me give those of you who are bkknoobs still , yet are considering moving here a really good tip.

Never say you are living in Bangkok. Never disclose your intentions to one day live in Thailand.

Cuz if you do , you’re no longer getting into her pussy.

Here are the rules of The Game , from both sides, first the male expat.

His game is to fuck as many hot girls here as possible , all the while avoiding commitment but hinting strongly that the possibility of something long term exists. At all costs, he knows to avoid the eventual trap of sending money to her so she can support her family which 99% of the girls here will eventually ask for. (I stand strongly in the 1% who doesn’t , never has, and never will.)

Her game is to seek out the naive first time visitor here who is older, been through the hell of living with a wife or girlfriend from his country , and would find her game of being super sweet and exotically different inescapably alluring. At the point where he’d do anything to keep her in his life , she breaks out the need for some sort of housing arrangement and support for her and her family. Until such terms are met , her pussy availability becomes drastically reduced or shut off altogether.

Her sub-game is to juggle as many of these guys as she can , making it look like to each that he is her only love interest. It’s entirely irrelevant if he is being promiscuous for she’s just playing the odds that one day the roulette ball will land on commitment. It only takes one.

As for me , I truly despise the fucking game. From both parties.

I go wityou #FallInLoveIn3Words

welcome to Thailand motherfuckers. pic.twitter.com/bHwB5K2AEX

— GoddessKhaleesa (@FemDom_Khaleesa) December 4, 2016

I mean I get it , this is what happens when farangs who have only known the top tier of Maslow’s hierarchy seek fulfillment from girls who have only known the bottom tier.

Look, I just want to get as far away from Thailand as I possibly can and stay the fuck away from it forever. “The game” has made it next to impossible for “diamonds in the rough” like me and Wael to get noticed , to be treasured , to find actual love.

I bring more than pussy to a relationship. I have 4 years of university under my belt , 1 year of college abroad , I write , I run my own business , I can speak two languages fluently and I’m now studying a third – German, I climbed out of poverty , I have my own luxury condo in the heart of the city on my favorite soi , I tweet about shit.

Not just the garbage that other dominas tweet , I don’t need to copy Mistress T and flaunt myself fucking a different submissive every day on Twitter , I strive to be funny, witty , clever , opinionated. By my research, I’m the only domina who’s twitted about Fidel Castro’s death , a superb Iwo Jima rendition of The Star Spangled Banner , and made public a very correct stock market prediction about a prevalent move in the spot price of gold. All within the past month.

Time wins again. The world is a better place today. pic.twitter.com/a8dlUZZZzW

— GoddessKhaleesa (@FemDom_Khaleesa) November 26, 2016

My Facebook is equally divided between Thai people and groups that I monitor , and foreigner friends and acquaintances. 1000 in total, 500 per side.

In all the time I’ve had a Facebook account , I have never once seen any foreigner acquaintance or their extended group of friends post at anytime whatsoever something that is of a bragging nature, other than those who won their MMA fight which is fine by me.

Yet on the Thai side, the substantial majority of posts are petty bragging displays of “look what kind of lifestyle I have now” It makes me want to vomit.

Photos of gold bought by their boyfriends and husbands.

Photos of stacks of cash they’ve withdrawn from their spouse’s bank account. I shit you not.

Photos of all their shopping sprees. Blah, blah , blah.

I’m slowly being blocked by all of them as I can’t help myself by posting on their timeline “other than your pussy, which has had more dicks pass through it than the Panama Canal has had ships , what do you bring to the table in the relationship?”

Bitter? Nah, just a statement of fact.

What you need to know, is that unequivocally , if you choose to date or god forbid – marry someone from here who brings nothing but her pussy to the table – you’re being played for a fool. You’re a walking talking ATM , nothing more , nothing less.

If you do some due diligence on your own , via Facebook or YouTube , you’ll find a plethora of graduated whores making sure those back home know they “made it” – don’t be the guy who got married to a girl like that is all I’m asking. Because to me, it’s staggering how many guys will bend the knee to offer his life and kingdom to a peach like this …

Question : Just how bad is the pussy in Sweden?

There’s a flip side to the game that persists as deep as choosing a marriage partner as well though , hell I was almost right in the middle of it until I got wise a few years ago. You can hardly be threatened in a marriage if you marry someone who is clueless about everything. You can’t be harmed financially in case of divorce, and the likelihood of having legal repercussions coming back to haunt you once your former wife has fled back to the safety of Thailand are slim and none if she was poor and uneducated to begin with.

However the best part of marrying a bimbo is the guy can fuck around on her as much as he wants and she won’t do a thing about it. She can’t , she’s insolvent , being cheated on is wholly tolerable compared to being single and broke in Bangkok once again. I’ve tried to save one girl from a cunt countless times , I’ve put the proof right in her lap via Facebook , and the most she’ll do is rant on her page once or twice … and go right back to her knees with his dick in her mouth.

Then I realized that nothing can help the girl, she’s caught up in the game. This time the male cunt won. In the videos above, the whore won. Whores and Cunts , it’s like some sort of retarded down syndrome version of Aliens vs Predator.

So the solution then? Simple really.

It’s the only way to be sure. Once I get far enough away , I’ll be just fine , C3PO concurs :

Pawn to King 8 , pawn takes King. Check mate. Game Over.

xx

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December 6, 2016
Shall We Play a Game?

I had one of those exquisite moments where my mind linked meaning in two videos separated by a generation of time , and I was perfectly proud of myself for making the connection. I was having one of those wonderful information quests on the internet that takes you down unexpected paths and usually lands me on a webpage that makes me gasp “how the fuck did I end up here?”

As I’m a movie aficionado my night started off as it usually does, perusing the upcoming movie trailers page on IMDB ‘s website where I was looking for something similar to WestWorld , a show that I desperately want to watch but isn’t available yet at any of my bootlegged video haunts which I frequent. If you’ve back read my blog , heaven forbid , you’ve no doubt picked up on my interests in the parabolic growth of technology , a wave that we’re caught up in but are so blasé about.

Rather than jump out of a chair and scream “holy shit , I never thought I’d EVER see that in my lifetime” people tend to shrug their shoulders every year at things that should mind boggle them … but lest I forget that societal reaction is usually akin to Bill & Ted saying “most excellent”.

So WestWorld , a very cool show it seems to me , based on an android community that seeks to rebel has really piqued my interest lately. Whilst I”m waiting for it to be sold here I tracked down a cool trailer for an upcoming movie called Morgan , also based on a rogue android , this time a female prototype. Oddly enough, this movie trailer was introduced by an IBM employee telling me that the trailer was created by IBM ‘s android like computer WATSON without any human interference.

Up until that very moment, Watson to me was both Sherlock Holmes’s detective assistant and a mainstream drug store chain here in Bangkok.

So curiosity bit the cat inside me and I started on my quest to find out who or what WATSON was. That line of research eventually brought me to a YouTube video where Watson was a contestant on the American game show Jeopardy.

If anything fits the description of a : “holy shit, I never thought I’d EVER see this in my lifetime” video … THIS IS IT. And yes I did jump out of my chair , or my sofa as it were. It made me want to go to the Apple store tomorrow just so that I can say to one of the phones for sale there “SIRI , you’re irrelevant already.”

Which is true. We’ve gone from IPhone to SIRI Iphone , to Google Now , all in 7 years , and they’re already completely irrelevant and outdated.

As eerily fantastic as Watson seems to be , how fitting is it that it would be Google’s Deep Mind project that could say “Elementary my dear Watson” and get away with its condescending tone as it smirks wryly at the babbling box on Jeopardy.

One thing I’m astutely aware of is that , well if Google was a wallet , it’d be the one that says Bad Ass Motherfucker on it.

I realize this is a ‘spank your dick’ blog , and you’re not nearly into this shit as much as I am , but if you’re the one or two guys out there who is , you’re gonna love this connection that I made between the next two videos as much as I did.

The video below , if the embed works properly (cuz fuck YouTube, what the fuck is up with you guys fucking up something that was working perfectly well. You guys working at YouTube remind me of a baby that needs it’s hands slapped when it touches something it shouldn’t) should start at the 5:47 mark , pay particular attention to the Space Invaders part where the computer is self teaching itself how to win.

Does that Space Invaders part of the video ring any bells for you?

What if I told you that you saw that exact same scene play out in a movie made thirty three years ago. Shall we play a game? How about Tic Tac Toe …

And now here we are , 2016 , and WOPR is a reality.

It’s learning, and it’s learning fast. You might shrug your shoulders at Tic Tac Toe or Space Invaders , but how about next year when it becomes the best player in the world at StarCraft II !!!

https://youtu.be/T90YHDI6gNM

I’m certain that if and when Deep Mind accomplishes that feat , the accompanying YouTube video will get a few million “likes” and a few million Bill & Ted like comments saying “most excellent!!”

Meanwhile I’ll be the one jumping out of my sofa … again.

xx

(yes i’m working on a new blog story that details a very hot girl on girl session I had , hopefully I’ll have it done by tomorrow)

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Never knew Kermit was into Face Slapping sessions. Makes me wonder if Miss Piggy was really Mistress Piggy !!! https://t.co/zsxsXRV0nd

— GoddessKhaleesa (@FemDom_Khaleesa) November 28, 2016

December 5, 2016
Banana = Monkey = The American Dream

“Good Morning, it’s 7am , in conformity , there lays bliss.”

Having lived in the city over the past five years , the past two in my quite luxurious condo , I hadn’t been jolted from my sleep by the blaring of the speakers that permeate the village where I grew up for quite some time. Yet there it was, 7am right to the very second , the brain washing diatribe on my senses had begun each morning last week from the house where I grew up.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with what goes on in every village across the land here , seven o’clock in the morning brings with it thirty minutes of community news being blared out from the speakers that adorn every pole along every side street and it’s nay unavoidable to listen to unless you were born deaf. Buried among the endless notifications of when the medical clinic opens , and what day the night market is open , is the subtle message that it’s just fine and dandy to be poor , and that one should instead focus on finding happiness within one’s life.

In our language, it’s called serakit bae plaw pliang , and it’s basically scripture , so until I’m living permanently in Europe I won’t be writing about it , else I put myself in danger of a forced lobotomy.

As I sat there that morning looking for a distraction from the blaring of the speakers I was playing with my phone and found out that Donald Trump had been elected President of the United States. Hey don’t say I didn’t tell you so , in fact , the first thing I said on my Twitter was this :

Reality is that everything we thought we knew about the Profession of Campaigning is basically wrong .. I wrote this would happen, remember?

— GoddessKhaleesa (@FemDom_Khaleesa) November 9, 2016

of course the second thing I tweeted was a bit more of a smart ass comment :

Where we’re going, we don’t need eyes to see.https://t.co/HX4joYrQl5 pic.twitter.com/tDk6EtYdJP

— GoddessKhaleesa (@FemDom_Khaleesa) November 9, 2016

Because there it was , the fruition of The American Dream. From reality show celebrity , to bankruptcy to President. If you give ‘the people’ the power to choose whomever they want, then sure as hell that is what they will do.

By contrast, where I live we are given a choice to vote for whatever fruit you want, so long as it’s a banana.

I sat there thinking what’s better, Trump or a banana?

Truth is , they are one in the same. Whether you sell it as a stimulant like the American’s do , or as a Barbiturate as it’s done here , it’s still horse manure all nicely packaged as a “dream”. The only difference is that American’s get to dream rich but end up poor and in debt , while we are just handed poverty at the outset and told ‘hey be happy with it.’

It doesn’t matter one bit that Donald Trump is president. Fuck they could have elected a monkey , it wouldn’t change a thing about the course to come in the next four years. Same goes for this part of the world I was cursed to be born in , as whatever banana we’re finally given to choose will bring about as much change ‘for the people’ as a monkey will in the USA.

And why?

I’ll let George Carlin explain why :

The profession of campaigning is broken.

The electoral process is broken.

The very notion of governance is flawed.

It’s antiquated. It’s self-serving.

A system who’s roots come from the prehistoric days where we lived in an oral-aural society , one that chooses the ‘wise man’ of the village to lead them , and we’ve kept that system where one great all knowing all wise person is chosen to lead hundreds of millions. What bullshit.

I care not a thought for the monkey or the banana , but instead for myself.

My vote is such: Live like a rogue. Get rich. Then get the fuck out and leave the monkeys and bananas behind. Therein lays MY bliss.

xx

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November 17, 2016
Determination Defined

[blockquote align=”center”]With the road behind me being so unfortunate and the road ahead being so uncertain, I’ve chosen instead to climb. Though the ascent makes me feel tired, weak, and urges me to quit, I know that when I reach the top of the mountain the struggle will have been worthwhile – for the road ascended from will then seem trite.[/blockquote]

Among my accomplishments so far this year, I’ve climbed to 11,000 feet , bungee jumped , swam with sharks, put in over 500 hours of Muay Thai training , embarked on learning German and am half way through writing my first novel.

All great, but as I climb this mountain that I referenced nobody told me that I’d hit the wall at learning how to parallel park. On that list of great achievements this year is supposed to be “I got my driver’s licence” but to me it’s starting to look like brain surgery would be an easier thing to try and learn.

So much so that I’ve added Parallel Parking as the second great mystery of life, the first being why some men’s curly chest hair looks like Taco meat to me.

As if the BUMP of my car hitting the one parked behind me didn’t spell FAIL enough, the SCREECH of my passenger door scraping the rear view mirror of the car beside put an exclamation point on the word FAIL! as the examiner shook his head in disapproval.

Still, this is Thailand, and two dinged up cars while parallel parking can be erased from memory with a simple bribe of about 500 baht. The parallel parking portion was the last part of the exam and after I had put the car in park and turned the engine off we sat there in uncomfortable silence.

Then he passed me the clipboard to show me he hadn’t yet marked me down as failing per se , a subtle hint that his signature and a check mark on the word Pass could be bought right at that moment.

I took out my purse , dug down deep inside and came up with a pen in my hand instead of money. Then, purposely in English – not in Thai, I wrote across the examination paper the word DETERMINATION and ticked the box saying fail.

Earlier in the year , on that mountain at about 10,000 feet I was freezing cold wearing but a t-shirt and a thin long sleeved sweater that i had pulled down over my hands to keep the last bit of warmth in my fingers. My legs were shaking and my mind had locked into thinking about finishing the climb. I had separated myself from the group and walked along that flat summit with the wind howling in my ear , almost knocking me sideways as I stepped.

We happened upon an old rusted steel ladder that disappeared into the mist high above us. I let the first three people pass by me to watch them climb up and vanish into the clouds above. The precariousness of the situation became me, one slip from that ladder and it would be an express ride down of 11,000 feet. There were no ‘danger’ signs, no safety clips to secure the body to the ladder, it was simply a challenge.

That’s when I thought of the quote I wrote at the beginning of this story. I’m doing everything I can to change the circumstances of my life , but life it seems is not without a sense of humor as it continually lays down obstacles in front of me proportionate to the effort I exert.

At that moment, even with fingers as numb as mine were, that ladder to me symbolized everything that had to do with being born Thai and poor.

I didn’t just climb that ladder, I galloped up it. Using the crooks of my elbows as hooks, the ladder become nothing to me. Then I walked the last few meters at the peak alone with the gail force wind screaming in my ear and sat down at the precipice to gaze down proudly at what I had accomplished. I have a great video of that moment, I’ve appropriately named the file ‘determination.’

For, at the foot of that ladder there was no frown faced, squint eyed thirty year old man asking for a bribe in return for passage above.

Such a man will never know what determination means , either figuratively or by definition, for he has ascended no mountain of his own, whereas I have. So fuck the 500 baht, I’ll be back next week to wreck a few more cars trying to parallel park, and the week after that, and the week after that.

To me, determination is defined by never saying quit.

xx

October 21, 2016
Famous Titties for $400 Alex

I acknowledge that I can be a bit of a cunt from time to time when answering emails , but if you were forced to read half the dribble that comes out of men’s minds which I am forced to read, well, I’m sure you would cut me some slack.

Today, or tonight rather , see – I’m tired as fuck … I’ve been learning to drive all day and tomorrow – knock on wood – I finally get my drivers licence and thus can cross off another thing from my list of “things I need to accomplish before I’m 30”. Winning the Nobel Peace Award for writing is on that list as well so I better get my ass in gear and finish one of the two novellas I’ve started.

So with a glass of red Bordeaux in hand I collapsed into my sofa here to see how many emails I can knock off before I doze off to sleep and I happened upon this one first.

At first I laughed upon seeing the sender had self addressed himself as “Sir” as I thought of the few people I know who carry such an honorific title like Sir Alex Ferguson or Sir Sean Connery.

Sean Connery, Famous Titles, and the sender’s name being Alex all clashed in my mind and the following burst of laughter shot some Bordeaux out my nose.

I read on, and at the end I had my tongue stuck firmly against my right cheek as I always do when contemplating how to respond to a less than inspiring email.

Wanting to sleep, I’ve since downed the entire glass in one flail swig , replied as such , and now I bid you adieu.

Oh and , yes I realize that Welcome has two L’s in German (willkommen)

xx

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October 13, 2016
A Very Long Rope

Hate is such a vicious vile word , with sheer wanton maliciousness behind every instance it is spoken. Thus, it must be used not liberally, but instead preciously saved for a deserved target of one’s venom. In my life, there has been no greater thing that commands me to use the word Hate as its descriptor than that of the word School and all the maladies that word encompasses.

I was recently asked in an email “how can your English be so good , you’re Thai.”

He took the philosophical pretense of “I speak, therefore I am” , flipped it on it’s head so it would become “I’m Thai, therefore I am not.”

I hate that.

Thing is , he’s right. In thinking of how to reply to him I wanted not to argue but instead to validate his point with reason, show proof of that reasoning, and show him what extraordinary measures it took to slip out of the societal mainstream and set myself up in an environment where I could succeed despite the moniker of being labelled “Thai.”

I, like all Thai’s, was set up to fail from my first day in school. And please, let’s not call it school but rather let’s call it what it really was , purgatory. Borrowing from the Christian definition then, it was a place of purification (brain washing), so as to achieve the holiness (lobotomy) necessary to enter the joy of heaven (factory work).

The rich are self-serving, and in countries such as mine where they are allowed to dictate policy, school is but a trap. I had a teacher one time, back when I studied abroad, who began his first lecture by putting a rope on the table before him. A big burly Russian man with a full grey beard – about to teach a semester of Creative Writing – said “Before you is a rope, a rope of opportunity. In my class you can either use it to climb to new heights , or you can use it to hang yourself, the choice is yours.

Typical me, I stood up (I purposely stopped raising my hand in grade 5) and said before the class “in my country the rope comes with the noose already prepared, it’s nice to have an option now.” Well actually, I had to use a lot of hand gestures and acting to get that point across because I had Seseme Street level English as a weapon though I had graduated with a major in English – but we’ll get to that in a moment.

I had wanted to reply to that person’s email with this video. For you, I don’t want you to watch the video, I want you to take it to heart.

The proof is in the pudding.

I was at Mistress Wael’s condo two days ago. She was trying to get 500 cupcakes baked as an order for her newly started bakery business , and she needed me to make a few trips to bring them over to the hospital that ordered them. Anyways, whilst I was there she got a call from her daughter on Skype and she picked up the call to find her ten year old daughter crying. Wael who sees her daughter but once a year , while working in Bangkok so she can provide a “better life” for her daughter by sending her to a school that’s just above gov’t level , assumed her daughter was crying because they missed each other.

What had happened though was that her daughter had been sent home from school with a disciplinary letter stating why her daughter had been spanked in front of the class that day.

The infraction?

Her child was caught listening to a YouTube song in English at lunch time. One that Wael had sent the link for so that her daughter could practice her English as the song – Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” comes with lyrics.

Let me translate for you one sentence in the note sent home with her daughter :

“Listening to English is strongly discouraged and we are dismayed that your daughter chooses not to focus instead upon her Northern Thai language skills.”

Harken back if you will to the point in the video I linked where he says children in school are discouraged from expressing their creativity, imagination, and critical thought. I too rest my case. The school system here should be on trial for the murder of imagination.

Had that been my daughter (yes i’d love to have a cute daughter one day) I’d have sent a reply suggesting each school put up a McDonald’s like sign that says “Over 99 Billion Robots Created”.

Sadly, the only available recourse of action that would save her daughter would be to enroll her in a foreign international school which comes with the lofty price tag of 250,000 for the privilege to think creatively in a society that forbids it.

So how did I exclude myself enough from being Thai that allowed me to get a fair grip on the English language?

I got the fuck out of here that’s what.

After all, I had a degree in English from a prominent Thai University , I surely was prepared to study abroad right? When Vladimir my Russian teacher of Creative Writing began his first lecture in that little foreign college , I remember looking to my left and then to my right before slumping in my chair and thinking “how is it possible I understand nothing of what this guy is saying?”

At the end of that first class as people were shuffling out of the smallish 100 seat lecture room I waited until the very last one had left before I stood up and saluted towards the ceiling. Vlad caught sight of me doing so and asked simply “why?”

“I was saying thank you … for nothing … to my country.”

Again he asked only “why?”

“I just realized my degree is useless. I understand nothing you say. I have no money. I have no friends to talk with. I have nothing.”

“Not true” he said, pushing the thing on his desk in my direction. “Now you have a rope” and he gave me a wink I’ll never forget before he sauntered out of the classroom with that to and fro wobble he walked with.

I may have understood but 1% of anything he said that day , but I’m thankful I understood that 1% with such vivid clarity. For it was that day that I began my climb, and now here I am today.

I pondered for a bit on how to answer that person’s email , he being so nonchalantly condescending didn’t really deserve such an elaborate response. So instead I simply replied :

“I was fortunate to have been given a very long rope.”

xx

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October 11, 2016