A Wife Materials in a Husband

 Dear Zach,

My mum loves keeping the home clean and tidy. When she was in good health, without failed, she was always cleaning and wiping, making sure the surface of everywhere was free of dust. I admire her tenacious attitude in keeping the house tidy. "A clean home is a happy home." She didn't said that, but that was what she always believes in.

Cleaning was her wifey duty - so does cooking. She cleans to provide comfort for us, so that we can focus on other important things in life. Life was easy and stress-free, literally, when we got back to a clean and tidy home. We tend to take little things like this for granted. When my mum was bed-ridden for the past few months, my dad and I share the house chores making sure our home is clean and comfortable as before. Somehow it didn't feel like it. Without the maternal touch, it was somewhat lacking. I have been cooking my own meals since 3 years ago when I started taking care of my diet seriously since I started working out hard in the gym. When my parents are no longer able to handle the load of meal prep like they used to, they mostly bought eat-out which was so much more economical.

For the past few months, I cooked for my parents. I learnt to make dessert, soup, healthy beverages, juices, and sweet congee. Since my mum was not in favor for solid food, soft liquid type of food was the best option for her consumption. I took over the responsibility of cleaning the house as my dad's lower back was killing him these days. My parents appreciate my efforts. My relatives, who came and visit my mum, praised my culinary efforts and love what they tasted. I was glad. At least this is the most I could do for them. 

I am basically a house-husband now, staying at home, cook and clean, and awaiting my non-existing husband to fuck me senseless. I mean, I could put a tender out there asking someone to marry me - I can cook, clean, and get fucked all day everyday.  

Is blogging dead?

Dear Zach,

These days when I got back into blogging, I tried to check out some of the fellow bloggers' recent updates only to have found their last post was 6 or 7 years ago - about the same time when I stopped posting back then. A tad of sadness washed over me knowing that blogging used to be our sole medium for venting, now has become an abandoned site with years of archives. We anticipated each other updates day by day trying to connect with one and another. When we blog, we blog to share our thoughts and feelings. We engage with people in a way people could relate to us with our own words. I miss those days when we got to read others' life, leaving heartfelt comments, read without judgement, and being supportive as we can.

Back then, without FB, IG, TIKTOK, blogging was the only way to share our life to the world. As the technology is becoming more progressively advanced, blogging is becoming more likely obsolete. Nobody, especially young adults, these days would spend more than 10 seconds of their attention span to read a 5 minutes post. Their attention span are so short to the point where the social media experts started to make video content about getting the first 5 seconds "hook" in reel just to lure viewers for engagement. Everything is all about view engagements and transactional on social media. Even me has become so attached to IG reels I wasted almost 30 minutes just to get a good laugh from it. It is sad but it is just the way it is now. We post on social media to get attention and validation. Very often, it attracts mostly haters leaving nasty comments about your face. We are no longer in the liberty to share; We are in a place where the more we share, the more dislikeable we become. This is one of the reason why I removed my own personal social media. People can just hate it for no reason.

I am glad that I got back into blogging. It feels so good to typing away my thoughts. I may get back into reading books. The last time I read a book was like 6 years ago? Blimey, that's long.  

 

Routine

 Dear Zach,

For the past few weeks, it has been tough for me and my family. My dad and I had a multiple huge arguments over something trivial. There were days my mum was in immense pain even after taking a medium dose of morphine. It was hard see how my 70-year-old dad taking care of my mum, feeding her, bath her, and supporting her walking to bed. Most of the time, my mum was asleep due the induced drowsiness from the drugs. While my dad taking care of my mum, I took charge in settling daily house chores and running in and out buying depository items. Day by day, seeing my mum's health progressively declining, I can't help but to think how the days will be when she's gone. There were times I lay on my bed in the afternoon, shedding tears from the corner of my eyes, thinking how she will leave us anytime.

My daily routine now consist of going to gym in the morning, and cooked my own lunch and dinner, and spent the rest of the day at home doing nothing. I do not work. I cannot work at this moment. Hence, I kept my daily expenditure to the minimal as possible. Sometimes, I would meet my regular for sex at the cheap motel we usually go to. I would go to gay sauna on the weekly basis just to relax and free my mind since I spent a lot of time in the gym working out hard. No. I do not have sex in there as tempting as it was. There were times I just had oral sex and foreplay. That's that.

It is going to be mid of the year very soon. It is unbelievable that the year went on too fast. 

Tough Time. Tough Life. Tough Birthday

 Dear Zach,

My birthday for this year is probably the saddest one I've had ever been through in my entire life.

For the past 2 years, my birthday dropped on the week days, it was one of the random morning routine where I was on my way home from the gym. Knowing the fact that I was entering in my 30s, with no job prospect, jobless, hopeless, and mindlessly living the day without expectation, the overwhelming feeling of failure has gotten my eyes brimming with tears. I cried so hard in the car on the way home in my birthday for the past 2 years. Crying because I failed so much. Crying because I had achieve nothing what I had promised myself when I was entering 20s.

This year, I did not cry. Because I had cried enough. With the unshocking news of my mum cancer's diagnosis, I was well mentally prepared for the worst outcome. Last week, we were told my mum's cancer progress has gotten worst. Chemotherapy is the only option to "control" the metastasis. It was the best interest for my mum's condition, but not for my mum's best interest. I held my mum's fragile hand, holding back my tears, telling her that I was fine with whatever decision she made. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she shook her head, cueing that she did not want to go through such ballistic treatment anymore. Without further ado, the doctor asked if he can do anything to make her comfortable for the rest of the days, we said nothing much and left the clinic with silent and heavy heart.

We did not say anything on the way back home. Silent is the best for all of us now. We all struggled to put our emotions to words.

To decompress, I texted my regular fuck buddy to fuck me as hard as he can the next day. He was under the weather but somehow comply the demand I asked of him. I love him - not in the romantic way. He always fuck me the best. After sex, we cuddled and fall asleep until the hours in the motel were up. We did not say much. We just had sex and that was that. No drama, no attachment. 

A news of my mum's imminent death and mind-blowing hard sex were my birthday present this year. I couldn't ask for more.