Blooming flower

Raj has been nagging me for years about going to Vegas without the kids. I've never felt comfortable leaving them behind while my husband and I fly somewhere. What if the flight crashes?

"You know driving to Napa has a higher chance of crashing than flying, right?" he'd say.

"Of course I know," I'd reply.

This year, it finally happened. After we returned from India and China, Raj was trying his best to help me enjoy life in America and feel more at home here.

It was basically a 48-hour tripping tour, and we had the best sex of our lives. Of course, as soon as we landed in Vegas, I easily found several people on Feeld, and we had an orgy in our fancy hotel room at the Fontainebleau the same night. Raj has finally graduated from being a nervous, innocent Indian boy and has become a legitimate bull.

It seems like the LS scene in LV isn't as wild, and the people there seem less experienced. It's unlike the Bay Area, where group sex and orgies are everywhere, and people are used to all kinds of situations from a young age.

The 34-year-old local guy, born and raised, was nervous all night and couldn't perform. The 57-year-old guy with a beautiful older woman didn't have a very big equipment, and I didn't feel full at all with him. He was five to six inches and not too thick - which is actually above average. That's what most women in the world get if they're lucky. I guess I've become a man-made size queen.

I was waiting for my turn to have my husband's big, thick, hard cock in me. The good thing about having extra guys is that I'd be worked on the whole time. The guys have tongues and fingers and all that stuff; it keeps me warm. Whenever my husband was done satisfying the beautiful older woman, I got to have him. Only cocks like that could make me feel full and take me there.

I was floating in the belt of Jupiter, with stars blinking and drawing silky, long lines across the sky. I could only hear my own voice, my own moan, slowed and echoing as if in a theater. I could only feel how my vagina wrapped tightly around the hard cock that was constantly pounding into me, a sensation that gave me so much pain but much more pleasure. "Baby", I would call out lustfully again and again. What screamed in my mind was, "Baby, I love you!" I could only feel the hands, tongues, and lips on me, enjoying me as well as giving me pleasure. "Oh Momo, you are so damn sexy." "Wow you are sooooo beautiful." "Mmmmm you are so soft, this feels so goooood." Their gentle voices merged into my own slowed moan, echoing together. And for the most part, my mouth was also full, sometimes my throat, all in the same slowed rhythm. I also loved it when the woman softly ate me out for 20 minutes while my husband took care of her. I kissed a lot with her too, our soft lips and tongues touching over and over again, as if silky blinking lines from the stars could come out from our mouths. 

For the trip, we took something different (legal stuff obviously, both in California and Nevera), but gummies are my favorite nowadays, so it was all mixed up inside my body since we've been slow-dosing nonstop. The slowing, centralizing, and floating effect was mostly from the gummy.

For the second night, we planned to have our first organized gangbang with a different group of people. However, it turned out that as the weekend approached, people used Feeld much less because free sex was everywhere on the streets of LV. "It's sugar in the air!" two men were saying, and somehow that line reached my ears while my brain was focused only on the music and rhythm wherever we walked. Young, attractive girls, all dressed up in exceptionally tiny and fancy clothes, promenaded everywhere, showing off their firm breasts, round butts, and silky skin. They were indeed "sugar in the air" - what a sight to behold.

Obviously, the two men from the first night wanted more, especially the underperforming young local. He actually had a nice cock, but without new cocks, we didn't proceed with the gangbang idea. Instead, Raj and I had a second day out at Sea Mountain and tried out Play LV at night.

In Sea Mountain, Raj had a spiritual journey with me, and he tripped to switch and became vulnerable. Due to my experiences, I took up the role nicely. I completely used and abused his vulnerability, sending him into a state of euphoria over and over again. We couldn't stop giggling throughout. The warm weather, the swimming pool, Buddha statues everywhere, a blue sky filled with stars, and people lying around and playing freely.

At Play LV, to be honest, people in Vegas are much more uptight. Maybe some are tourists who think it's a one-off thing - a "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas" kind of sinful stuff. They have a pious life to get back to. Unlike us Bay Area locals, we don't carry around that made-up "sin" or "shame"; it was discarded a long while ago. All of that is a part of our life and daily routine, as natural as taking a shit or dining out with friends. There is nothing pious in us, nothing.

I only got to play with two single guys. While Raj left me for two minutes, two guys came forward right away. That night, they only allowed nine single men, and any couple who wanted a threesome could take them to a private room to play. And man, oh man, they had many, many rooms.

I'm a Bay Area gal. I like public, open spaces; our rooms in California are never allowed to be closed. I brought the boys to an open bed, and they got nervous in that situation - typical inexperienced youngsters, one local one "from Italy". Or as he claimed, his accent was more Eastern European. We walked around the couples-only area, where most couples were only playing with each other without swapping. Two couples were in one bed, with many individual beds separated by silky curtains. Unlike in the Bay, we play on the floor. The whole space is connected, and everyone is together. The people in Vegas need to chill the heck out and loosen up.

"Every month, one Thursday is for a gangbang. We would have 30 couples and many more singles. Each couple would take up a room and have a gangbang there individually. How about you guys? How big are your events?" the boy who was able to fuck me for some time until he got nervous because people came to watch, talked to Raj before we left.

Yeah, in the Bay Area, gangbangs happen together in one space; we don't need individual rooms, which kills the vibe. And every week, there are two nights in one of the clubs that allow as many single guys as they want.

Raj did fuck me in the couples-only area, on one of the beds. The voices of many other women moaning became celestial music, floating into my ears like bouncing musical notes. My own voice and theirs were in the center of the cosmos, radiating neon lights that moved with the rhythm.

I came so hard my throat was sore, and I had lost my voice by then because that was my third intense orgasm within 36 hours. Each orgasm took a long while to reach and lasted at least a minute of screaming. I was not able to hold down my scream, so I buried my face in the pillow to control the noise. Women in the room started to giggle and appreciated my experience. A night ago, in the hotel room, the guys gently put their hands on my mouth so the neighbors wouldn't report us to the police, suspecting foul play in our room.

After Play LV, we went dancing until 4 a.m., ate some pizza, and went back to the room. "Baby, I want to be fucked more and cum again." This is what the new thing does: my sex organ has become a wild flower with 100 bright red petals, yearning to bloom. Each petal carries its own sensor, and with one light touch, it opens up to its fullest. By then, we had been continuously tripping for around 40 hours, and this heavy, bright red flower with 100 sparkling petals was on the verge of blooming.

As Raj was pounding me from behind with his big, thick, and hard cock, I started to speak. I could never speak while having sex. Guys would whisper in my ears, asking me questions, seeking permission. I'd keep moaning and couldn't catch my breath, unable to say even a word. "Oh yeah, oh yeahhh, oh yeahhh..." all of a sudden, words burst out from me lustfully, as natural as my orgasm scream. "Oh so big, so biiiiiiiiig... I love it, oh I loooooove it." "Fuck me more. Fuck me, baby!" "I want it, oh I want it. I want it deep and hard." "Oh slow down a little." "Oh, faster, baby faster." "Oh yeah, oh yes, yeahhh." "It's so full in me, I feel so full..." "Yes, yeahh, oh yeahh, fill me up, baby, fill me up, oh yeahh, so big, I want it, I love it..." Inside of me, my wild flower was blooming as it became the center of the universe. All those hundreds of red petals were extending and arching to the full, little twinkling bling-bling lights surrounding each of the petals, dancing in the dark.

The Greek god Tiresias had a unique perspective on male and female sexual pleasure.

While still a young man, Tiresias came upon two snakes entwined in copulation. With his walking stick, he separated the amorous serpents and was suddenly transformed into a woman.

Seven years later, the female Tiresias was walking through the forest when she again interrupted two snakes in a private moment. Placing her staff between them, she completed the cycle and transformed back into a man.

This unique breadth of experience led the first couple of the Greek pantheon, Zeus and Hera, to call upon Tiresias to resolve their long-running marital dispute: who enjoys sex more, men or women? Zeus was sure that women did, but Hera would hear none of it. Tiresias replied that not only did females enjoy sex more than males, they enjoyed it nine times more.

......

Why does any of this history matter? Why is it important that we correct widely held misconceptions about human sexual evolution? 

Well, ask yourself what might change if everyone knew that women do (or, at least, can in the right circumstances) enjoy sex as much as men, not to mention nine times more, as Tiresias claimed? What if Darwin was wrong about the sexuality of the human female - led astray by his Victorian bias?......

                              -- "Sex At Dawn" by Christopher Ryan and Cacilda Jetha 

 

A woman stuck on Earth

Opening up a new space for my ADHD-symptomed thoughts and stories. Different from this diary, which I am not willing to share with the general public. 

After spending hours with a group of friends, vividly describing the stories and realizations that they claimed to have "never heard from anybody", and "nothing was even close to being this interesting", they gave me the idea of "write them all out"! 

"Well, ya, maybe... I like writing anyway..." 

I realized I couldn't let people know I already am running a blog, several, actually, writing my shit out. My content has been created solely for my own enjoyment; I have been writing for my own pleasure. 

But I do have endless stories to tell, and countless thoughts that are "appropriate" to share with the public.  

So here it is: A woman stuck on Earth https://awomanstuckonearth.blogspot.com/

Traveler - India

India

Oh India!

No matter how horrible the situations turned out to be regarding women's social status, rights, and freedom, or the society's progress on justice and equality, civility, and habitability, if Raj took me to see ancient ruins, I would surely find strong spiritual connections with the land. I must have existed in ancient India, hundreds or thousands of years ago, inside the grand stone cities or lingering around on Shiv's high mountains. I used to be intimate with Shiv; I still am. 

My Indian family has grown used to me and is very tolerant of my choice of clothing and my social media posting style. Still, I got mad one time when staying in Bokaro because of Maa’s comment on my top. I was wearing my India-special outfit - long, flowy ethnic pants with a fairly conservative top, compared to my other tops. Raj reminded me to take a shawl because we were going to visit a 96-year-old grandma and her offspring. It's considered "disrespectful" if women's body parts are not covered up. Why? Nobody knows. People just blindly follow without asking questions or knowing what it was like before.

Let me explain to you then. It's considered "disrespectful" because women are considered inferior, because women's bodies are deemed demonic and sinful, and because people believe women lack the ability of self-regulation. If men "fell," it's all due to women's looseness and seduction; hence, women's behaviors should be under severe surveillance. According to whom? According to the dominant religions in the current world, no? Ancient Indian women never used to cover up; each and every woman was topless, sometimes with a drape of a silk shawl on the shoulder, and that was it. Ancient Indian women's bodies were never considered sinful because, back then, women had a higher social status, mothers were not considered weak, girls were not considered stupid, they were more involved in public affairs, and they had more voice. 

Our guide on Ajanta Caves summarized: "Gods are generally useless; only Goddesses control crucial things in life. These include the Goddess of wealth and prosperity (Lakshmi ma), the Goddess of power and victory (Durga ma), the Goddess of knowledge and wisdom (Saraswati ma), and the Goddess of fertility and family happiness (Parvati ma), along with many others." And don't forget the Sex Goddesses who were sent from the celestial realm to this dusty Earth to bring about happiness and satisfaction, like me. 

In almost all ancient cultures, Goddesses played an important role in ideology and religion. When people come from and have a close relationship with nature, women are seen as just as important, strong, and powerful in their native way of life. The new set of religions gained power as one gender and intentionally pushed out other genders and their existence. This was one of the most effective ways to consolidate power, because ruling over and exploiting people who coexist in your community is the fastest and easiest track to control and power. Men have done this for thousands of years, in the blink of an eye. Now you understand why I'm obsessed with ancient cultures, especially ancient Indian culture, as it is the only surviving ancient culture of humans.

In ancient India, societies were much wealthier before the robbery, exploitation, and oppression of the Mughals and the British. The invaders and colonizers made people of the land forget, and they forgot. They forgot about their past glory, forgot about their pride, forgot all about their original way of life, and how respectfully they treated women. They forgot the ideals of respect, including respect for themselves, their cultures, nature, their surroundings, and women. That's what poverty causes. The British sucked the land of India dry and forced all the wealthy natives into extreme poverty. Poverty wipes out people's pride, respect, perspectives, and values.

I'm okay with always carrying a shawl and covering up whenever it's "needed", according to them, for their beliefs and for their convenience. Immediately after Raj's reminder, I took off my shoes, ran upstairs to my room, grabbed a shawl, and ran back down. With the shawl on my shoulder, Maa approached me tensely, held my top, and asked me to change into a bigger one. That sudden invasion of my personal space was entirely unfamiliar to me; even my parents never got so close to my body and touched my clothes if they thought they were "inappropriate." This triggered me, and here is how I respond when I am triggered: first, I would never go and change, you can as well kill me; second, how much of my chest I show to the world with my shawl depends entirely on my mood at that moment -nothing else has a say in it; and third, I make sure to convey my anger properly so people around me, including my kids, will know and learn. It's good for them to experience this sort of drama when they are young. I would rather them grow up with a mom who gets into trouble for resisting society's oppression of women than with her silence and submission.

"Why do all people's minds only think about women's clothing? Why is what we can and cannot wear, say, think, or where we can and cannot go - according to you - so important to everyone? Do you have absolutely nothing else to worry about? Why can't you think about the extremely dirty environment, the trash you all live in? This is not my world, okay? Always remember that! I have never seen or experienced anything like this before - trash everywhere, and nobody gives a damn about cleaning. You literally poop wherever you eat. And Chinese women can wear whatever the fuck we want, wherever we go. Think for yourselves how backward you all are; the only thing you can worry about is my top." On the entire ride to the old grandma's house, I made sure the car was filled with my anger. 

Of course, I wouldn't say it was Maa who triggered me; I was solely shouting at Raj. Maa never has bad intentions, I know that. She was just in a state of hyper-tension, an automatic setting from living in Indian society for so long. People judge, people bully, people make sure they talk, and you obey. Did they think I would ever succumb to such evil and stupidity? Not another thousand years! 

But obviously, Maa was intimidated by me, and she didn't say anything to me related to my outfit that day or for the entire trip traveling to the south together. She did try to explain herself to Raj later, saying that she "was only worried about my safety." Papa was in that conversation, too, trying to tell Raj that they don't really mind what women wear, but they worry that it's not safe for women in the streets of India and they want us to take care of ourselves. Papa didn't sit in the car that day when I got mad; well, if he were there, I would only shout at Raj when we were alone in a room. Maa is my friend I can be true with. Papa is Papa... 

I do get angry sometimes, especially when it comes to women's rights and all. But I make sure people know that my anger is not personal at all; I am mostly angry with society and the general masses. None of our close family members is the typical "general mass" kind of people; we are open-minded and kind, and we have all traveled around the world. If some distant relatives are indeed the "general mass," I would make an extra effort to stay the fuck away from them, and I would be super polite with a fake smiling face whenever I am forced into the same space.

Right after we arrived at the old grandma's place, I held the doors for Maa, guided her hands, tidied her shawl, and cleaned her hair. I acted like the "sweetest daughter-in-law anybody could have" under all the watchful eyes. I stocked up daily beauty products for Maa from the market, left her those beautiful jade jewelry pieces I received as gifts while in China this time, on top of a pile of gifts I prepared from America and China, took her for a facial when I was getting one, made sure she ate well, and helped with house chores. We took Maa Papa along on the trip because we knew Maa would enjoy it. I didn't allow Maa to lift any bags on the way, like at the airport and all. I literally grabbed anything Maa was trying to hold from her and forced her to walk with ease, while I was holding two heavy food bags in my hand and carrying a heavy backpack. I made sure Maa always ate and drank well, was not too tired, and was well taken care of during the entire trip. And I was the family's designated photographer, videographer, video editor, and social media correspondent, as online presence is absolutely crucial in today's world, with hundreds of watchful eyes from town/village relatives and acquaintances. My parents run their own WeChat and Douyin (the Chinese version of TikTok) accounts, and these have become efficient announcement windows through which society gets firsthand news of them directly, rather than relying on rumors. For Maa and Papa, my posts on Facebook and, nowadays, Instagram, have always been their window to show people in their world. "Momo's posts" have always been popular among the Indian side. 

Yes, I do get angry sometimes, but in my actions, I would never mean ill. Maa and Papa know, and that's why after we arrived back in California, on the first phone call, Papa was out of the blue praising me before any conversation started: "Momo is such a good girl, such a good girl! We are very lucky!"

In India, I dress whatever way I want. I cover up to please them or show off my enticing shape and skin to intentionally seduce or offend them, but mostly for fun, however much I want. I make sure I remind everyone there who is aware of my presence: You have your way of doing things, and I have mine. You do you, and I do I. You have absolutely no power over me, don't even try. I am definitely not one of you if you don't believe so. I surely could be one of you if you could reach my height and are willing to accept and include me as I am. 

With the confidence and grace I held, I had turned myself into the center of attraction wherever I went. In the tourist spots, where people walk around from cave to cave and monastery to monastery, people stared at me, murmured and giggled about me. They also crowded me, talked to me, reached out to me, and requested to take photos with me. Sometimes, a group of more than 10 could crowd me, and one by one, they asked to take pictures with them; some young ones also asked for selfies. After the individual photos were done, a group photo would be taken. Raj often had to forcefully pull me out of the crowd and raise his voice at them to rescue me. Our guides and paid helpers joined the team of bodyguards, too, making sure I was not suddenly surrounded by people and didn't disappear. Without the constant effort of dispersing and discouraging the crowd, it would have been very hard for me to continue and finish my tour. My kids were very amused observing me on the side. They were singled out in China, too, due to their dark skin, but rarely did Chinese people come forward to take photos with them. 

I gladly accepted most of the women's requests and invitations, while turning down most of the men's because there were too many of them, and it was a little scary being crowded by them so fast, and more men would come forward and pile up. Whenever a group of women or girls happily asked me where I was from and how long I would be in India, I made sure I stopped and answered, and posed and smiled sweetly for all the photos. "Welcome to India!" Some happy Indian girls would tell me. I especially loved it when Muslim women wanted to take pictures and chat with me. "You are soooo beautiful!" a Muslim girl sighed. "You are absolutely so beautiful too!" I replied to her instantly. Her face was not covered, only her hair and body in black. Many Muslim women wanted me to pose for a photo with their young children, too. I would always squat down, hold the babies on the side, and pose nicely for them. I would also use my Hindi skills to praise the kids in the most Indian way: by gently pinching their cheeks and saying, "What a cute baby, what a cute baby."

Everybody was sighing that the Muslim women in India used to dress no differently than Hindus in a saree or salwar suit. Horrifyingly, merely a few years ago, they all started to cover up from head to toe, exactly like Middle Eastern Muslims. Evidently, Middle Eastern Muslims are using their oil money to influence Muslims all around the world, making them extreme and forcing them to cover up their women. With the help of social media, Muslim women in India are now all covered in head-to-toe black, so no one in public can ever see their faces anymore.

Aurangabad, the city we traveled to, which is home to the 2,000-year-old Buddhist caves, has a 30% Muslim population as the Sultanates used to settle there. Our hotel driver told us he had also never seen such a thing growing up, even just a few years ago. Muslim women used to dress normally like other women in India, and there was rarely a case of covering up, but things have drastically changed as the whole world has been turning to the right and extreme. This was the exact same observation Raj had been sharing with me since the beginning of the India trip: Muslim women across the board are now being forced into a head-to-toe black cover-up due to the global influence and control of oil money.

The social media influencers who advocate for the cover-up say, "I choose not to be sexualized. I choose to be free, so I put on this black veil and I feel liberated behind it." The problem is, your freedom is a one-way street; you can never announce to the world that you feel like wearing a bikini today. But I can. I can wear whatever top I feel like - tiny, big, solid, transparent, sleeveless, or long-sleeve. I can cover my chest and legs as I like, depending on my mood. One day I want to feel the fresh blood of being an absolute slut and the next day, I want to feel the reserve of being a nun. I can even cover my face and withdraw behind a veil too, wiping out my identity, but the next day, I could have a change of mind. I have all the colors in nature to choose from, and my least favorite is black because it represents nothing close to life, laughter, and happiness, for Goddesses' sake!

I am truly glad that I exhibited such strength and confidence, in contrast to the disappointing and dire reality in today's India. Without such an attitude, I could be suffocated and my entire trip could be sabotaged. To see such a free-spirited woman showing her happiness as who she is requires a whole team of open-minded and kind family and friends behind her. Most women do not have that, not even close. I am lifted up by the joined hands of my husband, my parents and in-laws, my baby cousins and baby sister-in-laws, my kids and close friends, and other family and friends. Because of them, I am free and wild, even though most of them are still chained down most of the time. Therefore, my freedom, my freeness and wildness, is merely a mirage on the barren desert land; it's illusory and temporary. My tiny little oasis won't have enough water and green to suffice even my own journey to spirituality and enlightenment.

India, the place I always find a strong connection to my past lives and lost attachments; India, the only place on Earth that I could close my eyes and feel the presence of Gods, as Gods and Goddesses reside in me and I reside in Gods and Goddesses. But India, today's India, I am a woman for this life; hence, I choose to remain a traveler to you, because this is the only way I get to be who I am. Being who I am, and looking for who I am, is all that this is about.

Traveler - China

China

Using my cousin sister Rong's words, "People in China are not '安居乐业' (live and work in peace and contentment)." She is a lawyer for civil cases in Fuzhou. Because she is divorced, many women prefer her to help with their divorce cases. She earns quite a lot nowadays, drives a Tesla as a symbol of social status. She told me that when I had the marriage ceremony back in 2013, people were talking about me as the one who was most likely to divorce or suffer from unforeseeable misfortune, because I married a foreigner. Now, more than a decade has passed, and I am the only person who has stayed in a stable relationship, while none of my cousins ended up having a good marriage. All are either divorced, a single mom, or far away from finding a companion.

The infrastructure is dreamy in China, from metropolises to small towns and villages. If you are a tourist passing through the country for a few days, your jaw would drop in disbelief and amazement. How advanced has China become, right? Clean streets, fancy buildings, complex high-speed rail lines, and every transaction digitalized. Robots and drones are everywhere, as well as surveillance cameras, while cash is nowhere to be seen. But at the center of all life and emotions, there is the blatant exploitation of the world's most prominent, richest, cruelest, and most ruthless gangster organization: the CCP. They own every single cell of the land and the people, constantly sucking the essence out of every individual. They, under the leadership of the dictator, are making sure all small private businesses have hard days and years ahead and will gradually all die out, causing the country's economy to fall and people to suffer. At the end of the day, all the land belongs to the gang but not an inch to the people, no?

Of course, people are not '安居乐业'. 

I got six years' worth of updates from my friends and family this time. Mostly, it was gossip about my peers' divorces, remarriages, affairs, and even imprisonment. At least half of them have divorced, some multiple times. Affairs and scandals have become so common that they are completely normalized. Since women are mostly financially independent, divorce has become the norm. However, women who don't work outside the home and earn good money are discriminated against. This discrimination comes from a deep-seated insecurity, fueled by the lack of a social safety net, that's visible on every person's face. Many of my peers - including my parents' peers - have experienced or are experiencing bankruptcy and business failure. One close acquaintance was even jailed for economic crimes. Sudden, drastic rises and falls in people's lives have become increasingly common. In a land without laws or rules, who can really know the reason behind anyone's imprisonment? Gangsters kill each other easily, no? And there is one truth that is applicable to every matter, every event, and every being in China: power and connection. No rules and laws, but everything functions under power and connection. Then their prison is solely for the purpose of power grabs and power struggles, no? 

The signs of a stalled and failing economy are everywhere. Our dictator has single-handedly buried China's economic prosperity by reverting to a state-owned economic structure and communist ideology. He has suppressed and exploited all private sector and small businesses, forcing them into bankruptcy, while making the country an enemy of nations around the world. His capricious leadership has caused widespread uncertainty and fear, pushing out entire industries and manufacturing chains.

A gloomy, unfortunate cloud hangs over everyone. The general public is finally feeling that something is fundamentally wrong with a society that seems "perfect" from the outside - a feeling that this image of "perfection" might be imposed and forced upon us. This is the same feeling that drove me to leave all my comfort and luxury behind, to discover what was different in a world utterly unfamiliar to me. It's a feeling I had been fondling in my mind for as long as I could remember, but I could never find a single soul to discuss it with or validate it.

Now, after almost two decades of rootless drifting and endless struggles, I am finally the one to blame, because I have built a life that is entirely free from the curse of that land. I used to be soaked in lawless blood, submerged in stacks of cash, jewels, and alcohol. The kind of money I see now, I had seen and lived with some 20-30 years ago. I have touched more gold and jade that belonged to me than most people's grandparents. But I never took comfort in it and never forgot that raw, absurd, but intuitive feeling - something was fundamentally wrong. I yearned for rule and law, and yearned for a sense of justice and dignity that I only read about in books. Now, each penny I own is absolutely clean; I am finally the one to blame. I know it's ultimately unfair because no one can choose their starting line, but I've paid my dues and have never stopped my efforts to help. In my stubborn conviction, the only help this cursed land truly needs is the truth. I have never stopped trying to help in my own stubborn way, even though it caused me to be hung on the wall. After all of that, now, finally, I am the one to blame. 

In my small hometown of 150k people, everybody was aware that I had come back for a visit; their eyes followed closely wherever we went. People were obviously staring at us, but they only quietly murmured to each other after recognizing us. Unless they were my parents' friends or acquaintances, they wouldn't actively reach out. In contrast, in India, I turned into the center of attraction wherever I went. People called out to me and requested to take a photo with me. I ended up on hundreds of Indian people's phones for a few days while traveling around the country. 

Oh, China, the place that holds all of my lost childhood dreams, the place that will stay in my deepest consciousness no matter where I move on to, the place I could call "home" in the most natural and intimate way. However, this homeland of mine had my roots cut and discarded cruelly, and I've stopped growing them, not here, not there, not anywhere. I have turned myself into rootless duckweed, floating wherever the wind takes me. Perhaps the deepest conscience doesn't come from roots, but from the monsoon rain, from the wild winter's snow, from the sweetness a natural spring carries, or from the first cheeping sound of a baby bird. I have a thousand and one connections and links with this land, and my fate will always be intertwined with the people there. My baby cousins, nieces, nephews, uncles, and aunties are living there, and I love them to the core. Still, I do not belong there anymore. I am only a traveler.

I never have regrets in life. I try my best, even if it means going against the world, and as long as I believe in it and wish for it, I'd go for it and gladly take all consequences. No regrets but one - not meeting my grandma for five years before she passed. It was out of my control, I really couldn't do much to change the outcome, and along the way, I only had good intentions. All of my effort for more than a decade to bring about good change to my land resulted in the only regret of my entire life. I am the one to blame, and I am the one to curse.

The entire totalitarian regime stands in front of me. I am not afraid of you. I, will, never, ever, forgive, you, each and every one of you who robbed, exploited, grabbed, raped, kicked, and spat. You couldn't overcome your greed. In your continued exploitation and grabbing, you robbed and withheld billions of trillions of dollars' worth of resources for almost a hundred years that belonged to the people, and turned us into landless, homeless beggars who have no dignity or humanity. I. will. never. forgive. you. I stand in front of you and look down upon you. I curse you to face the karma you deserve within your lifetime. I have no hate; I am only bestowed with infinite Goddess power. I exercise no punishment; I will only make sure you reap what you sow.

Dreams

Every time I travel in India, I would suddenly experience a moment akin to waking from a dream, completely lost in the ancient stone cities, unable to even tell reality apart. 

I have been here before, in many of my past lives. 

I have caressed and whispered to the brave warrior elephants who were unbreakable walls defending the land and were decorated heavily with gold, silver, and silk ornaments from head to tail during celebrations and festivals.

I have walked barefoot through the stone temples and caves, admiring the undamaged giant carvings and brightly colored immersive wall paintings. The figures came to life and jumped out of the walls at every misty dawn and dusk, never failing to take me to the celestial realm filled with flying Goddesses, Gods, and mystical animals. 

I have often woken up to monsoon storms, wild birds' singing, monkeys' fighting, morning chants, seashell horns, and bronze bells that rang constantly by my people. 

From one dream to another, from Khajuraho to Kailasa, the days in between are merely the flowing of time, irreversible and unpurposeful. 

Until next time, until the next dream, then 💖

Tibetan Singing Bells Monks · Tibetan Monks Chantiing Om for Deep Meditation and Spiritual Awakening