On Womanhood.

I'm supposed to be working, but I'll take time to just let go of the thoughts I've been having lately.

I couldn't get over the things that are going through my mind right now.

1. Do I really want to be a mom?
2. Why do some women resort to prostitution?
3. What brings women to the point that they actually turn to rich old geezers to get them through life?

I know that many women go through these thoughts at some points in their lives, and I am having those thoughts because here in Manila, I have had to go Internet in a cafe frequented by [high-class] prostitutes because

1. The stupid taxi brought me there.
2. I learned that their DSL speeds were... AMAZING.
3. I like the place itself. Just not the presence of the prostitutes.
   

I liked being among the foreigners, because I've always had a degree of xenophobia (fear of foreigners) ever since I was a child, but I did conquer that through sheer cheek, guts and compensation. I was dreading and praying against the moment that one of them will come up to me to give me an [indecent] proposal, but it was pretty impossible, given that:

1. I had a Macbook.
2. I had messy hair.
3. I have glasses.

If that doesn't scream "geek" and "non-prostitute," I don't know what does. :p

But really. I wonder what makes those women go into that profession? Do they have more respect for money than themselves? Can they live with the mood swings, emotional imbalance and general life fuck-ups that come with having illicit sex?

I have been through hell and back back when I was active, and I never want to repeat that. I never want to go through that again, and I'm waiting for marriage this time. I don't ever want any of my friends to go through that, and I have to make an effort to be "understanding" of the women in my life who choose to be crazy even if I actually wanna slap them on the upside of their heads like I used to do my cat. Believe me, I'm brutal because I do not want my friends to be as gaga as I was.

And yet what can I offer you but my room, my hot water and coffee/decaf, my prayers, and my shoulder to cry on? Sigh.

It is easy to slip, when you are delirious with "love". But I only have to remember the hell I went through as consequence of my sins and I remember that I need to put my walls up. If I forget, God never fails to remind. And I am only too thankful that He does. Because five hours of pleasure are never a good bargain for months of hell.

Which makes me think that I really don't want to see a certain someone in a place other than a restaurant. Haha.

And finally. I just have to say this. The spine operation is a frickin bummer. I have had to contend with it whenever it flares up. But it reminds me that I need to pace myself. And I take comfort that the Apostle Paul has had a handicap to remind him who he is in the context of God's scheme of things: another believer who just has to spread the Message like you and me. Or to the non-Christians who read this, well, you know that you don't have to spread Jesus' message.

To wrap things up, I just wanted to lay down the things I've been wondering about. And I have come to the conclusion that I am no different from the women I was seeing in Durban. There are points that I could actually be tempted to resort to that. And I direly hope I never give in. My only hope is in God's Sovereignty and GRACE. I have to remember that while Satan has been defeated, he is still pretty powerful. So I should dare not move from under God's wings. So as it is, I'm safe as long as I keep focused on Him. :D

Well, musing moment over. Back to life. So I plow ever on, in hopes of the prize I await at the end of this race. :)