Being Pansexual

This is most disturbing stereotype I get after coming out as pansexual or describing my non-straight persona: I will pierce every creature in the world with starving eyes.
Like, really?

Yes. I could get excited by every gender possible. But, no. I won’t lusting every single one of them either.

I am being pansexual is not really different to you are being straight or gay or whatsoever your sexuality is. It’s just I don’t really care what my partner gender is, I sexually attracted to them that way.

I like to hook up and get cozy with my partner whom I have my own criteria. But, I do not like being tied down. And if those conditions make me look ‘loose‘, it has nothing to do with me being pansexual. It is just me being carefree and no fan of unreasonable commitment. It is just my preference of living, not my preference of sexuality.

There are many possibilities how pansexuals living their life. Of course. Just like how straight, gay, or whatsoever-your-sexuality people do. We could love hook up parties. We could be a fan of fairytale love stories. We could be straitlaced partner. We could be innocent secret admirer. We could be every persona we want to be.

That is to it. XOXO.

There will be bigger meaning beyond every bad circumtances.
But somehow, sounds wise.

I am a fan of beautiful words.
But I appreciate those factualy tested more.

You know,
there may be bigger meaning beyond bad circumtances.
But not every single one of them.
Sometimes, yes, bad circumtance comes from the universe to sharpen us.
But the other times, it comes from your own foolishness to let you know that a donkey would do better job dodging holes than you.

That’s it, me.
You are just dumb. Period.


In your eyes, I have never changed.

It was me from three years ago who left you stranded. It is the same me you saw this evening. And it will always be that version of me you see through your eyes far away from now.

Have I ever changed, really? Let’s leave this question unsolved. My equation will never be the same as yours. And it’s kind of sad somehow.

Let me pretend that I do not need you to understand. Or do I even need to pretend? Understanding ain’t compulsory.

When it’s a vain to explain, we’ll leave this frozen fathom remains.