I watched an episode of Elementary, season 3, where crime scenes smelled like nutmeg.

Anyhow, of course, since Leemanism’s old entries have been archived into a sub-domain, many people who care enough to know me will not be able to see context for everything I will say and do here on out. However, even then, most people aren’t sensitive to the intricacies of how an infinite number of things can set a person off to do what they do. Their choice of words, their actions, the things they react on, the things they barely react on, the things that trigger them and the things that bring them all sorts of other thingamajiggies. I tend to have this habit of not explaining enough context in my blog posts. Actually, I tend to do the opposite when in person. However, I am really sick and tired of both attitudes. That’s why I think human speech and human language in writing is such an awful outdated form of communication. The best of the literary artists out there can do wonders expressing themselves, as I have at times, been able to do so for the masses, but as time went on, I find that I have grown bored of expressing myself as such. Where as it used to be as natural as blinking and breathing. I have now been mostly aware of what I am doing, long before I want to tell people my thoughts. Thus, the other reason I stopped posting regular blog entries at Leemanism.

So, since you’re all missing context, you would have to ‘unfortunately’ read between the lines for some things, and not read between the lines, when none exist for other things. That’s just how it is and will be. I know I know, this is a bit foolish of me to say this. It’s like a cop-out. It’s like what I am really saying is that you’ll have to forgive me if I take things ‘out of order’, like if I spanked my wife’s bottom until it’s purple and bleeding… Then just left it at that, you would think I am abusing her. What if I later told you that she told me to spank her silly, because she wanted me to? Your anger might subside, but you will still feel a bit wary of me from then on for a long while. Unfortunately, that’s just how society for the most part works.

I need you to understand something about me. I am not a classic introvert. You will see me alone or preferably, get to a situation where I am alone amidst a party. I will also get apprehensive after awhile, if I am in a place full of people. Okay, well, those are signs of a classic introvert. ^_^ However, what makes me not a classic introvert is that I will divulge information willingly and openly. Most introverts I know don’t do that. They keep to themselves and huddle in a corner wishing they’re unseen, but still able to freely move from place to place. You could say I am an… Actually, never mind. I really don’t like categories.

I am also a very sexual and daring person. When I was in my 20’s, this meant those whom were my age or many years older, would either find this alluring for those whom were horny and/or sex positive, or find me disgusting for those whom were sex negative and/or have some self righteous inclination for what they considered to be moral. In my 30’s, I found out that what was once alluring for women to want to get to know me, was no longer a factor of wanting to get to know me. I was no longer attractive enough mentally, through that vague charm I had. By the time I got to 40, which is now, I found out that not only do women in general not find me alluring anymore, but they don’t want to be seen next to me. I am simply that disgusting to be around with.

You see what I did there? Many people would think I said what I said because of my non-existing low self esteem. Most people don’t care. Some people who actually know me, like really know me, will realize that I am being neutral. Facts are facts. There is nothing bad or good about them, per se. Yes, I know I am not a disgusting person for some people, but I am disgusting for some other people. That’s just how it works.

Now, this might confuse the hell out of you. Why the hell am I talking about other women, when I am married? It’s because I am polyamorous minded. I have been this way for over a decade. The only problem is that my wife isn’t into polyamory. I will talk about this in depth at a later date.

In Amber’s mind and pretty much the majority of society, everyone should only have one romantic partner. However, I have felt for a long time, that monogamy is a conditional aspect of society that has been pushed onto people since birth on the notion of social control. We’re all individuals. So why can’t individuals have individual thought and behave what their individual needs require them to do? Yes yes, indeed, we have rules, yaddi yadda, but who makes those rules? Why do we have them in the first place?

When I was ‘with’ Erica, at times, we spoke about sharing each other with other people. What if it was less about sharing and more about involving?

Anyway, I don’t really want to get into that right now. To cut this part short, I just want to say that I believe people are capable of romantically loving more than one person, just as they are capable of having more than one best friend. I think a better way of saying this, is that people are capable of connecting with others through a dynamic gradient of connective traits. Person A will give you one dynamic set of traits that suit you, while Person B gives you overlapping traits, as well as other traits that Person A doesn’t have. Both people are dynamically compatible with you. Objectively, it doesn’t make sense to me, that some people in this world choose to limit themselves to one of each type of relationship. It makes me wonder just how narrow minded these people are, that they either choose to do what they do, or if they have been conditioned to the point where there is no return – no ability for them to see beyond that tiny world view they have.

Which by the way, I told a friend a few months ago that I like her. She rejected me of course. I am not attractive enough for her. She thinks that all Asians look the same (joking mostly of course) and she indirectly told me that the type of men she likes, have to resemble Blonde Viking Gods with huge cocks that carry massive axes. I can’t compete with something I am not. I am more like the Ching Chong Pervert with an average sized schlong that carry a ten sided die around just because I’m that amazingly cool.

[coughing conspicuously]

My friend strongly desires a cock that is the size of her forearm. So she can worship it with her mouth and tongue, then have it impale her gloriously. It has nothing to do with whether he can get her off or not. It has all to do with how it looks and feels between her lips, hands, tits and pussy. She wasn’t that explicit with me, but it was close enough.

Mind you, Amber wasn’t amused, but we had a long talk later about this and other stuff. She told me that she doesn’t want me to have friends with benefits, but would not mind that some women whom are not my friends give me oral sex.

You might be super confused by now, how this Thought Provoking Nutmeg suddenly tuned into such a hot and nasty story about forearm sized cocks and polyamory. Haha, sometimes I amaze myself too. Well, not really. At least not anymore.

Over the years, I have been accused of many things, all of which started with my dad accusing me about all sorts of things. You know, it’s easy for other people to tell you to ‘chill out’, ‘ignore the haters’ and ‘just do you’. I am especially triggered by acts of injustice and incompetence. So don’t get me started on why so many self-proclaimed conservatives still support President Donald Trump, when they wouldn’t support President Obama on way lesser charges. President Trump can’t even form a proper English sentence without fucking up grammar and punctuation. So it’s not hard to see why Hillary Clinton thought everyone who voted for Trump are deplorables. Sure, she has a bitch-ass elitist mindset, but Trump is much worst. Yet, these people hate Hillary Clinton and think of Trump as some sort of saint. It truly mind boggles me. If the exact same things that are happening Trump, are happening with their opponents, these same Trump supporters would call for them to be jailed. I find that Trump supporters cherry pick what they want to believe in, the same way they rally behind Trump when he says he will defend the constitution, but make up all sorts of excuses when Trump blatantly violates the same constitution he says he would defend. To me, it makes no sense. Not even I, a fan of President Obama would continue to support him, if he fucks up. I criticized President Obama’s lack of leadership and his desire for bipartisan support. The worst President Obama has done, was that he was black and he’s a Democrat. President Obama was the one who fixed the US economy. President Obama was also the one who messed up in Syria. At least he came out honest about that. Trump is a constant liar and this has been documented fully. Trump shit on the US allies, the Kurds. Trump is pro-Putin. Trump is pro-Kim Jong-un. Two of some of the worst tyrants on the planet. Yet, Republicans still support him. At any other time, Republicans would have condemned anyone of supporting these two tyrants. So what makes it different this time with Trump?

So I came to the conclusion that it’s because most of the loudest conservatives in the Republican Party who support Trump, aren’t really conservatives. The true meaning of a conservative is someone who proceeds with caution, who tries to preserve the traditions of the land and its people. Someone that adheres to basic necessities of the law, that govern the framework. Someone who leaves society to do its own thing, unhindered by the governance of the masses. Conservatives should pride themselves in the ideologies of solid principles, strong ethics and honour. Yet, none of these Trump supporting self-proclaimed conservatives are like these things. They turn a blind eye to what Trump has done, yet cry bloody murder if anyone else they don’t support do the same things. It’s truly and utterly crazy.

So before I went off on a tangent about US politics, I said that I’ve been accused of many things over the years, all starting with my dad.

My dad was not kind, gentle, affectionate, nor loving towards my mom, brother and I. This is obviously apparent when it comes to me and my personal relationships. Amber has complained about this to me a few times, but she isn’t the only one. Some of my past romantic relationships were the same. Well, it’s not something I can just change. If you want me to change, then you must be the better woman and help bring out the best in me, while taking whatever stupidity I push your way. My violent outbursts of emotional anger is the ventilation of built-up stress over the decades. Indeed, I should not blame this solely on my dad’s behaviour towards his family members, but I can blame him actually. My brother was loved more than me and I don’t fault my mom for doing so. She had to, after seeing how she somewhat messed up with me. When I was a child, I resented this quietly. All of my family members didn’t bother to try to understand my condition – my self exclusion. They all just thought I was weird and unapproachable. Well duh! I wonder why?!

Anyway, but I digress. While there are many aspects of who I am resembling that of my dad, I am also not my dad. My expressive anger is more violent than his, but I don’t accuse people left, right and centre of wrongdoing when there is none. I rarely jump to conclusions. I have my reservations on people’s thoughts coinciding what they say, but I don’t go around and accuse them of shit I might believe them to be. I don’t automatically think that someone smiling and laughing at me is them trying to mock me, as my dad has done multiple times in the past. I feel that over the years, during my childhood, whenever my dad reacted to me smiling and laughing, is because of his low self esteem. As if in his childhood, he needed constant reassurance that what he was doing was good.

For example, when I was around 9 or 10, my dad bought us a new two wheel bike from Sears. He had to put it together and for him, it was frustrating, because he has no patience for these sort of things. He’s not detail oriented.

I walked up to him with a grin and I was laughing. He immediately saw that as me mocking him. Like I get a kick out of him stressing out. He lashed at me verbally, told me to get the hell out of his face, etc. I was so heartbroken at that instance. I was smiling and laughing because I was happy my dad bought us a bike, when he didn’t have that much money. He still wanted Edmond and I to be happy. He took the time in trying to put the bike together. Yet, I was accused of something I didn’t do, scolded for it and told to fuck off.

This sort of scenario was frequent over my childhood. My dad always accused us of all sorts of things that through his perspective, was mocking him or making fun of him. None of which was true.

So as I grew up, I wanted to be closer to my dad. I am reminded of a time when my brother and I were very little, we went to Queen Elizabeth Park in Vancouver. On our way back to the parking lot, my brother and I were on either side of my mom. My dad noticed this and with his hands in his pockets, his head down, quickly walked off by himself. Even at that age, I noticed this, but did nothing because my dad never gave his sons a chance to love him. He never loved us the way that can be felt. He only loved us by giving us $20 a few days after he yelled at us. He only loved us by buying us stuff. He only loved us the way he knew how he could show that love, but all that was superficial, no matter his intent. His intent was always wiped out whenever he yelled at us, accused us, called us all sorts of names under the sun.

Unfortunately, when I became an adult, I found at least half the shit he did, in me. I was quick to temper, violent when I was angry and at times, verbally abused those that I cared about. It wasn’t until around 2013, that Amber, after taking the brunt of my verbal abuse after one of my many angry outbursts, that she mentioned that my abusiveness could be an aspect of my depression.

Now, I have been dealing with depression for the majority of my life. There have been times when I was off my non-related medication, Delystral Testosterone for longer than I should have been, that this depression hit me full force. It put me into a state of ‘not-wanting-to-live’, as if I simply don’t care to live anymore. It was scary actually. So when I think about all of the people who need testosterone therapy for Klinefelter Syndrome, but couldn’t or didn’t know about testosterone therapy, I really feel for them. How many have died over the course of those having this ‘illness’, have took their own life?

Anyway, so it was around this time that I actively sought ways to improve myself. I went from having nearly daily fights with Amber in our long distance relationship to at this moment, having one to three large fights per year, with a few disagreements here and there. The different back then to now, is that I have taught Amber to stand up for herself, while at the same time, flexibly deal with me dynamically whenever I get angry violent outbursts.

Mental illness is real. Unfortunately, many people don’t think it is and those people are the same people who lead picture-perfect lives who has never had to deal with trauma of any kind.

So completely off topic, I need you to know that I am also quite perverted. I used to be more open about this, but over the years, as society has become increasingly over sensitive about everything that comes out of people’s mouths, I have since ceased my perversion to a very select few. Unfortunately, even for the very select few, I still can’t be myself fully.

Now, I use the word “perverted”, but the reality is that I am perverted because most of society are a mix of pretentious social snobs and sex-hungry recluses. Since sex is shunned by the social masses, then in that segregation of what is acceptable and what isn’t, then I am a pervert. The reality is that I am normal in sex positive circles. I am not only normal, but my perversion is tame.

In my perfect world, all of my friends are sex positive. Those that share a mutual attraction with me, have sex with me and others regularly. My wife would see them as complements to our lifestyle. Their relationship with me and with each other, are on a dynamic gradient. So that means our friendship is also dynamic. Some of us connect intimately variably. Some of us connect as regular friends do, having a one night stand or sex every now and then, or whenever we feel like. Sometimes, these friendships would have an intimate moment and/or sexual encounter with my wife. Sometimes, we would engage in that intimacy together.

Cheating is breaking the rules of the relationship. So just because we have sex and intimacy with other people, so long as those activities are within the boundaries of our relationship rules, then we’re good to go. That is why it’s important to talk about what each person wants out of a relationship and then set the rules that govern them.

Amber and I did exactly that. I’ll tell you more about this in a future blog post.

Now, about friendships. I am truly disappointed with Jon Tsang. I ran into him outside in the summer of 2016 and instead of having the usual warmth we’ve had for years, he greeted me halfheartedly in a very awkward way. As if he didn’t even want to run into me, let alone talk to me. It wasn’t even that long ago that we talked to each other normally, but after his second child was born, that was that. It seemed like he just simply gave up on our friendship. I didn’t realize our friendship was so whimsical.

It reminded me of when we were in our senior years of high school. His best friend from Kamloops came all the way down to see him. The entire time they were playing Ping Pong and chatting, I noticed they were somewhat disconnected with each other. Apparently, they were super close back in Jon’s home town, but with what I saw that evening, they were like strangers trying to reconnect.

Jon and I aren’t strangers. Yes, he’s married, has kids and has his own set of friends over there, but what did that change between us?

The way I saw friendships as far back as I could remember is that friendship is based on a bridge that each of us build. Over time, other people show up alongside our bridges and connect theirs to ours. So for the entirety of our lives, our bridges see many branches fork out all over the place. Some people connect more than once to our bridges and the same as said with ours going out to theirs. Some of those bridges get broken down due to not using them or simply not taking care of them. Some bridges are stronger than others and last a lifetime, sometimes even longer than that due to the magical abilities that brew up from amazing connections. The way bridges are created, what they’re made of, shaped like, connected to all dictate what our connections are like with each other.

With that said, it saddened me that after all of this time, Jon’s friendship with me came down to a random bump in the road and awkward silence. I always saw Jon as more than just a friend. I saw him as a brother. He was almost always there for me during the tougher times. He protected me and included me from hostiles. He made sure people were aware that we were friends and made sure I didn’t feel like an outsider.

Tom brought up that it’s perhaps people like Jon just figured that people like me was not worth the extra effort to keep going. He didn’t say it exactly like that and I would not mind Tom correcting me here if I said it out of order. However, regardless of the words said, I still find it hard to believe Jon has become so shallow in the way he views our friendship.

I am the way I am, not able to reach out to people, because of the way I am, but that doesn’t diminish my feelings about them. I see friendship in a more eternal sort of way. I just didn’t realize that Jon viewed my friendship with him as a wooden house that has burnt down to floating ashes.

I mean, let’s look at my friendship with Patrick. We have in the past, not spoken with each other for nearly two years as adults. Yet, we reconnected like he was gone last week. Of course, Patrick and I are different. Our connection is different too. Last time I saw Patrick in person, was when he came over for dinner movie a month and a half ago. We last spoke with each other on Whatsapp yesterday.

Anyhow, it’s disheartening nevertheless.

Yes, this entry is long. Super long! However, it’s meant to be endless. It’s supposed to give you a peak into my psyche and my life, without going into the details much. Since the entries from Leemanism I to Leemanism XIII have been archived, you’re going to miss out on context with Leemanism XIV+. Regardless, I will keep adding to this entry over time, but I will time stamp it for relativity.

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