Holly Golightly

This week's buys: BDK Gris Charnel Extrait PDM Delina Exclusif - repurchased because I left my bottle in my room in Bali

One down, two to go. The last of the three is someone I actually have a crush on, and I’ve learned that the more I like someone, the softer my flirting game gets. I’ve only gone out with him once before, and I swear I could hear Taylor Swift songs in my head right after.

I’m a product of years of therapy. Not for depression specifically, though I’ve had a few depressive episodes. I was on anticonvulsants, antipsychotics, anxiolytics, SSRIs, you name it, to help manage comorbidities. Additionally, because there are no medications specifically approved to treat my personality disorders, I had to rely on wellness strategies and lifestyle changes. (You like my personality? Great, it's a disorder.) That was 10 years ago. Now, I no longer meet the criteria for the diagnoses. Bottom line is, therapy works, but you have to stick with it. Also, it's okay to take the pills.

Two exes told me that if Hozier's Take Me to Church were a person, it would be me.

I can't say it's my favorite, but I like listening to Lana Del Rey's Chemtrails Over the Country Club.

I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart, I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat. - Jorge Luis Borges

When guys talk to their friends about something they're obsessed with.

My posts might suggest that I have a hectic sex life, but I actually have a hard time finding someone I'm sexually attracted to. I could easily go over a year without sex, rather than sleep with just anyone.

Flirted a bit too hard today, and now I have three dates lined up for the next seven days.

Am I a feminist? Yes. Would I let a man get so rough with me that it borders on assault? Also yes.

Not having someone who would let me nibble on his earlobes and grind on his thigh while he works on his laptop, completely ignoring me.

In here, there is nothing but truth. In here, secrets are undressed and mistakes have heartbeats. You, with your windows to the many lives you've lived. And me, with darkness spilling out of my pockets. Our souls are as old as the stars. 18 October 2018. For a friend, on that night he wanted fo disappear.

Power and sex. Men have gone to war in pursuit of these.

I'm a morning person but been staying out late this past month. Tonight, it was spa and wine night with one of my besties. Tomorrow night, it's drinks with a different set of friends, maybe somewhere in Pob. Fingers crossed for pizza buddies before calling it a night.

Cold and detached by day; on her knees, begging to be collared by night.

I seriously need a few weeks in Bali. I miss Soham, my gym in Seminyak. I miss nights at Savaya and everything about Uluwatu. I miss the god-tier brunch scene, the scent of canang sari in the morning, sunset at The Legian with a cocktail. I miss my friends there.

All my friends are currently in Europe, so I’ve been given the task of booking rooms for our upcoming trip to La Union. I've never been to La Union. Duck. 🦆

Currently, the cream puff (original) from Baristart Coffee BGC

Nærøyfjord, December 2017

I had asked a couple of past lovers to cut my skin during sex. They refused. One ex, concerned by this little quirk, hid every sharp object in his pad. Fortunately, he missed the corkscrew.

I am that tentative space that follows a period. Vacant, idle. Nothing to look forward to, nothing to go back for. Blank. Undefined, indefinite. At this point, I could be anything.

To cream all over my gym crush's cock after turning him into my cardio for the day.

The sound of a man's belt unbuckling

Having cum pounded deep into my pussy and walking around the rest of the day with it leaking down my thighs would fix me.

When I ask for the time and he looks at his wrist instead of his phone.