after squirting /gushin/ejaculatin/ nastily, i decided to look for some research in the field. below is what i found. even the scientific back up of the phenomenon didn't make it easier for me to handle. i still find it a nasty nasty thing. i wonder if those who've seen it find it sexy.

The Greek philosopher Aristotle noted its existence,Galen (2nd century) described the female prostate, the Italian anatomist Renaldus Columbus referred to female ejaculate while he was explaining the function of the clitoris. In the 17th century, the Dutch anatomist Regnier de Graaf wrote a book about female anatomy and spoke of female fluid "rushing out" and "coming in one gush" during sexual excitement.

Up until the 1980s female ejaculation was largely ignored by the medical community. At that time the subject resurfaced with the bestselling book The G-Spot by Ladas, Whipple and Perry. The book not only addressed the validity of the g-spot, but it also brought female ejaculation to the forefront of women's sexual health inside the medical community.

While many in the medical and scientific communities are now acknowledging the existence of female ejaculation, there remains a large void when it comes to solid scientific data explaining the process of ejaculation in females or the source of the fluid itself.

The latest research indicates the possibility that all women produce female ejaculate, even if they are not aware of it. The expelled or released fluid is an alkaline liquid secreted by the paraurethral glands. The paraurethral glands produce an enzyme called prostatic acid phosphatase (PAP) and glucose.

the party is a success if:
a) u can only remember half of it
b)u lose at least one shoe on your way home
c)u have to apologize to at least a dozen of ppl the next morning
d)u narrowly escaped being killed in a fight
...been there, done that. now i know why i prefer to go clubbing only a couple of times a year

why do people lie all the time?
men lie, women lie, kids lie; young, old, smart, stupid, wise...regardless of age and social status...i can always figure when someone is lying;something which is obscure to the rest of people is absolutely clear to me.must be my curse or something: seeing more shit in others than they've got to show. i tend to classify the lies i'm told. first category: innocuous lies: when my girlfriend lied to me on our first date, it's just cause she wanted me to like her, when she lied afterwards it's just cause she wanted me to stay, i didn't mind. i was flattered.
category №2: malicious lies. involves made up events, meant to hurt you and/or as a result (maybe in the longrun) gaining something/someone. to put a long story short: ppl with cultivated inferiority complex looking to find self-confidence. i detest that in ppl. why there are so many stupid fucks out there they seem to be born for one thing: wrecking my nerves. arent' these cute little cunts have a better thing to do?
...spring has always been giving me quite a hard time. wish i could print this post on my t-shirt and expose it every time some shitass is about to utter a word of bullshit.

all the below is a partial ridicule on cross - gender issues. it reveals the cyclical nature of human thought (and therefore) of human life. and what a waste of time it is to care of bodily comfort; even if it's said to believe that the latter has (not even in the least!)has direct influence on a person's emotional health. not comfortable with your gender? peek inside; maybe it's not the body to blame///the deepest satisfaction/dissatisfaction over sthg stemms from the inside. it's a truly fantastic thing that a human being holds the ineffable power of turning his own self into the happiest or the most miserable of all ppl.

Dr McFatum's notebook lay open in front of him. The last page of it said:
'god help us!'
this laconic entry shall terminate the diary. It was a story of shaken nerve and broken spirit.

eight years later.
summer 1981, Dr McFatum in his study consulting his schedule. A patient walks in. A well built middle aged good-looking young man.

Dr:(not raising his eyes from the notebook)so what brings you to my SRS clinique?

M: how much would you charge me for a male-to-female surgery?

Dr:(not taking his gaze away from the notebook)
Have you ever dreamed of becoming a woman? What kind of woman? Do you want to know what an orgasm feels like to women? Or you just wanna know why they fake it?

M: i used to dream of becoming a man...

Dr:(*raising his eyes from the laptop to recognize one of his former patients)

same day, same setting,CA

Dr: getting ready to face the real world?

M: i prefer avoiding it. Mankind's love of real is simply a pose! When in fact we neglect reality in our striving for pleasure. Every night billions of people dream the same dream: how to put oppressive reality behind? What if there were no jobs, no taxes, no obligations&commitments? If i had to describe a human being with just one word it would've been 'desperate'. We spend our lifetime in a desperate search of something or someone...searching...finding...losing...then searching again...finding again...

Dr: you have ample time for that search-find-lose cycle. That's where all the fun is: you never know what will come next

"the results of the savage journey to the heart of human nature"

1973 St Lutheran hospital, 16.09.1973 10:45 AM. Michael/a wakes up, gets out of bed and runs to the mirror. Dr McFatum walks in.

Dr: so how does it feel?to look at the new you?

M:...confusing. Like flying and falling all at once. I gotta get used to it.

Dr. yes, you have years to try...anything worth having deserves some effort.

M: i'm not sure i'm ready for more investments. it feels like the victory which was within my reach had been cruelly snached away.

Dr: no, it's just another test.

M: i'm tired. i'm so tired of coping

Dr: We are never given more trials than we're able to bear.

M: (looking away) I love you, I love you cause you know when to lie and when to tell the truth. If someone always tells the truth it might hurt and when someone always lies it's boring. You know when the right moment is for either.

“surgical aggression, surgical attack, surgical intervention, surgical service?”

15.09.1973. 8 AM. Operation room №13. The surgical team surrounds the patient. The lights are on. Michael/a’s eyes are wide open.

Dr:(*smiling broadly) When you wake up things will be a little different.

M: (taking Dr McFatum by the hand, eyes closing slowly) I expect it to be a whole new world.

*surgeons talking

S: weird isn’t it?
S: what’ya mean?
S: like I’m god…and it’s up to me to decides which gender should this kid have
S: I hate it!
S:???
S: I hate it when I have to play a role society wants me to play….dictatorship from losers!
S: hey,You ok?

S: (* making a deep breath&looking down at a patient’s chest) Have you ever tried to give an unbiased assessment of someone? Totally unbiased? Have you ever happened to look farther than person’s social status, earning potential, intelligence,sense of humour etc…ever been deeper than that?
S: there’s a side of each person we don’t need to know

S: Oh, sure! It’s XXth century. Truly knowing the person is worthless. In today’s pace of life the scheme ‘do ‘em and move on’ works perfectly well for everyone. Never wanted to know what’s on the mind of your beloved one?

S: wish I’d never known…silence speaks the truth
S: the greatest of lies are often told in silence!
S: no questions – no lies..
S: ignorance is bliss? Like you don’t develop attitudes toward things?
S: even critics are paid for having attitudes towards things
S: unprecedented cynicism!i’m mentally applauding to that final outburst of brilliance…

*both went silent for a while

S: do you always do what society wants you to do? Do you like playing by their rules?

S: if I were to choose, I would’ve settled in south-west with someone lovely. Someone who luckily remained intact by the world of total materialism. Someone who managed to escape this obsession of all times.

S: My best friend once said: “ financially insecure, seedy people, those with negative social status, motley horde are the nicest of all god’s creatures”

S: how would you describe the girl of your dreams?

S: if I’d known what she looks like, would’ve gone and got her…you know…all these carefully thought out descriptions, such as: good looking, smart, funny, sufficiently well-off, successful, understanding, loving, caring….We all know at least half a dozen of people who would fit the description. But still there’s something missing. And it is this ‘something’ we’re looking for. And if we can summarize a person into a handful of adjectives, write up all ‘pro et contra’ (in fact it should only be ‘pro’ cause love is blind)…and after such a meticulous scrutiny the word ‘love’ disappears somewhere in the maze of predictability.

S: So what is this ‘something’ that we’re looking for? How can you tell a genuine one from false?

S: Mystery – the rival of predictability. If the one you love has ceased to be a mystery to you and looks more like an open book…take a look at the ‘content’ to make sure you want to read it again.
Finding this ‘something’ is only half the matter. Keeping it is far more harder. Human beings are far more optimistic than Dr Freud would’ve thought. They never settle for something less than incredibly impossible. They keep hoping that the best is yet to come….’something’ which shall surpass their wildest expectations. Isn’t it ridiculous to hope for a sixth act when the curtain has already fallen?

“ The One”

1973, St Lutheran Hospital, Pasadena,CA. A major SRS is to be carried out in 3 days. 12.09.1963. 3 PM. Dr McFatum meets his patient for a convo. Michael/a (who has never been involved in any sort of a long term relationship) is sitting in a corner reading “Sex&Marriage ” by J. O’Connor.

Dr: Have you ever heard that there’s more than mere physical attraction? That there are things which are much more interesting kind of a bond between two people than marriage? Do you know what it’s like to feel the eternity? Do you know what it’s like when her laughter makes you happy and her tears hurt?

M:…to be honest…I’ve spent my lifetime waiting for something like this to happen to me! I had all sort of loving caring women but my empirical approach seem to have taken me nowhere.

Dr: “u can be the one for millions but there will never be the one for you”?

M: I’m kinda everyone’s Mrs. Right…if you know what I mean.

Part three
“ from rebirth to human folly”

Fall 1974, Michaela turned to Michael. Now s/he’s back to the “Third Oak” (to undergo a psycho-correction programme).

Dr McFatum walks in, produces a pile of official papers(various permits for a name change, prescriptions for hormones etc)

Dr: It’s been nine months…how have you been doing?

M: I’ve been through everything over the past 9 months. Between Scillae & Charibdis, between the devil and the blue see. I’ve been interrogated by some weirdos who know nothing about themselves but want to know all about me. I’ve been humiliated by the weakest creatures I’ve ever seen. I was raped by a virgin. I was threatened by a priest. I was laughed at by morons. I was going out with a frigid hooker who lost her both legs in a car wreck. Now, is there anything else i have to go through before you misdiagnose me with a recovery?

Dr: What was the best thing thing happened to you for the last 9 months?

M: I read the most intense and interesting book of my life.

Dr:Oh, really?Which one? "The hottest girls of the XXth century"?

M: The Bible actually

Dr: Feel like confessing?

M: At least not to you, my ill - humoured friend. (*pause) I'd like to stay on my own for a while if you don't mind.

Dr McFatum leaves. Michael/a(standing above the pile of papers) pulls her/his crotch aside and urinates. Then holds it back, then urinates again

Part two

“sleeping with ghosts”

1963, Pasadena, CA. Insane asylum. A regular check up, Dr McFatum visiting one of his female patients. S/he’s got a straitjacket on. Talks in a loud excited voice.

M: hey doc, what’s this straitjacket is on for? Someone wants to fuck my face and thinks I might mind it? I wouldn’t!!(Michael/a gives a warm smile). I also don’t like the idea of having my hands all to myself!!
*DrMcFatum writes down “aggressive euphoria accompanied by insistent sexual ideas.*

M: aggressive? I’d rather say suggestive!(grins)

M: hop on top, doc. I’ll teach you how to go down on a woman. The key constituent to feeling confident. Powerful as Marilyn. Desired by the many. Isn’t it a conception of being useful to a society ? Enriching every single female member of the society with new emotions, strongly positive sensations, spreading healthy sexual energy over all continents. After all – the world is just one big swollen clit with an explosion at the end.

Dr: We need to get our DNA checked, just to see if we’re from the same planet…ok..I shall leave you now…

M: better leave some porn mags with me, doc. These nasty nurses have taken all my Playboy’s away. I need something to wank about. You can deny me the privilege of looking through the dirty pictures. But doc, don’t even try to defy the laws of human nature. Whether we want it or not it’s always on our minds. How many times a day do you think dirty, doc? All the time? Your mind is like a multipaged steaming book of perversions?

Dr: (sighs)…have a good day ma’am.

M: you’re leaving? Eh, like I give a fuck. Go read some Boccaccio. Erotic classics will surely do you good. (* spits on her pants and keeps watching the spit travel down her/his zipper)

M: gotta get me a nurse to do the clean up…(*yells in a growling tone “ nurse!nurse!i need you to sort something in my crotch!)

Below is the first part of the diary(which(as mentioned previously comes in form of a play). imagine an amateur theatre..the curtain hasn't fallen yet...

Part one

“social morons & antisocial mores”


1969, Pasadena,CA, Insane Asylum. A doctor sitting at a table facing his patient.
Patient: a pre-op TG female in her/his late 20-es. S/he’s holding a cigarette end between her/his forefinger and middle finger, the elbow of the left hand is on the table. S/he’s looking at the doctor wistfully…

Dr McFatum – psychoanalyst, specializing in pre-op TGs, the only professor in Pasadena who can actually ‘prescribe’ a SRS (sex reassignment surgery)
Michael/a – a pre – op TG, 27 y.o. the only good looking professional in Pasadena who wants to undergo a SRS.

Dr: (in a low voice, almost whispering) Have you ever dreamed of becoming a man? What kind of man? Or would you rather prefer to be an angel…..having no gender?no reproductive glands, no sexual excitement bothering you day & night. No flushes, no shallow breathes, no shakes, no contractions,sweet convulsions etc…

M: I’d give the world for preserving all I hold at the moment.

Dr: And what is there so precious about your life that you want to get hold of it so much? Is there anything at all worthy? Are you sure you’re not a redundant human being? Do you really have a mission? Do you still want to set the world on fire?

M: I don’t believe it’s all about usefulness to a society. There’s definitely something totalitarian in the notion.

Dr: Achievements? Not for you? You can deny it but this question will haunt you till your last gasp. And on your dying day, will you be able to list the things you got done or only the women you did?

M: women…’the light of my day, the fire of my loins, my soul, my sin’ huh(Michael/a grins).
An innate feeling of never ceasing excitement towards these multipleasured creatures…..there’s nothing I can do but to avail to its wish…the best way to resist to a temptation is to succumb to it.

The chronological order of the events hasn’t been kept
Reminder: the diary comes in form of a play.

The suburbs of Aberdeen, 1989
An old man (who doesn’t wish for his identity to be revealed) is being interviewed by four journalists:


Q:Interviewers do not find you a particularly stimulating
person. Why is that so?

A:I pride myself on being a person with no public appeal. I
have never been drunk in my life. I never use schoolboy words
of four letters. I have never worked in an office or in a coal
mine. I have never belonged to any club or group. No creed or
school has had any influence on me whatsoever. Nothing bores me
more than political novels and the literature of social intent.

Q:Still there must be things that move you--likes and
dislikes.

A:My loathings are simple: stupidity, oppression, crime,
cruelty, soft music. My pleasures are the most intense known to
man: writing and butterfly hunting.

Q:You write everything in longhand, don't you?

A:Yes. I cannot type.

Q:Do you read many new novels? Why do you laugh?

A:I laugh because well-meaning publishers keep sending me--
with "hope-you-will-like-it-as-much-as-we-do" letters -- only
one kind of fiction: novels truffled with obscenities, fancy
words, and would-be weird incidents. They seem to be all by one
and the same writer-- who is not even the shadow of my shadow.

Q:I notice you "haw" and "er"a great deal. Is it a sign
of approaching senility?

A:Not at all. I have always been a wretched speaker. My
vocabulary dwells deep in my mind and needs paper to wriggle
out into the physical zone. Spontaneous eloquence seems to me a
miracle. I have rewritten-- often several times-- every word I
have ever published. My pencils outlast their erasers.

Q:When did you start writing in English?

A:I was bilingual as a baby (Russian and English) and added
French at five years of age. In my early boyhood all the notes
I made on any subject of interest were in English.
In the middle thirties I translated for publication in English
two of my Russian novels,
'The Misanthrope'and 'Three Strange Lovers'(retitled 'Divorced'
in America). The first novel that I wrote
directly in English was 'All These Women'in 1937 in Paris. After
moving to America in 1939,
I contributed poems and stories to The Atlantic and The New
Yorker and wrote four novels. Sterling Holden (1947),
The Red Diary (1955), The Oaks (1957) and Crisis
(1962). I have also published an autobiography,Private
Confessions(1951), and several scientific papers.
Q: How would you describe your works?
A: The passion of science and the patience of poetry. As an artist
and scholar I prefer the specific detail to the generalization,
images to ideas, obscure facts to clear symbols, and the discovered
wild fruit to the synthetic jam.

"...a human soul can't be enlightened unless it has both
male and female elements..."
from Da Vinci's diary

I shudder retrospectively when I recall
that there was a moment, in 2005, and again in 2006 , when I was
on the point of burning my little red diary.
No, I shall never regret I’ve written it and kept it.(also keeping the privilege of reading it over and over again bringing back to life (at moments-- savouring) the most intriguing moments.
Some would find it weird to discover that it comes in form of a play.
Writing it was like the
composition of a beautiful puzzle-- its composition and its
solution at the same time, since one is a mirror view of the
other, depending on the way you look. Of course it completely
eclipsed my other works-- at least those I wrote in English:
, my short “E” stories, my notebook of recollections; There is a queer, tender charm about that mythical play.
Though many readers would disagree that
Her(play=she) charm is tender, few would deny that it is queer--

I thought as a diary it was absolutely first-rate.
I could stress certain things that were not stressed in real life—
Openly ridiculing human folly…which/to be honest/ leaves me supremely indifferent.
Whatever happened between 2004-2005 has affected me greatly/for better or worse/

Настроение сейчас - shkodlivoye

christmas is coming.everyone is in search of gifts etc.all that fuss
- not my style. i already got a card from my uk friend though!...
lovely charlene.me,1) i've managed to reserve several champagne
bottles,2) wrote a letter to santa. guess now it's about the time to
sit upright and wait patiently for him to send a handful of surprises
my way...big grrl is still into wonders that much...i usually get at
least one miracle on x'mas eve...

We shall never know the origin of life, or
the meaning of life, or the nature of space and time,
or the nature of nature, or the nature of thought.
Life is fantastically deceitful and complex. It's never
sincere and simple. Neither are people.
Illusions - rejected...taking an objective look at an outside world.
Regarding it as a motion in time and space.Relationships.Sex.Sex as
an institution,sex as a general notion,sex as a problem,sex as a
platitude...
*initial difficulty/false facts cognoscenti
the imagination of a small child at once distorts,alters the
bizzare things he is told about the 'busy bee'-->the kid has to
invent his own world of a 'busy bee'-->injecting average reality
into the brew of individual fancy and newly found sexual identity.
All the above should form an easy going, good-natured atmosphere
for acquiring more self-confidence that you've ever had-->aficionadas
keeping you warm and safe.
Somehow, my scheme/based on my own experience/ doesn't seem to
work smothly,not even for me. I guess it also takes an inborn
capacity of recombining and re-creating the given world,avoiding
duplication, turning your every move in time and space into a
masterpiece of wit.
*the first shock of recognition/theory shattered by reality
a sudden sense of 'this is not at all what i want!' At first
the process goes on solely in the mind. At times it seems the
whole world is spinning inside my head.
*facing reality/mistificator/agent provocateur
facing challenges and reacting to it adequately.
redressing 'shit/bingo' balance by minimizing the
'shit's and 'maximizing' the 'bingos'. and all of that -
on your own.One is always alone.In someone's company or not...
there are no things in life that are about team work...every
thing, every time...on your own...as before the blank page

no sound of footsteps coming from the hall, no voices in the kitchen, no crowded parties at my place...i wish...i'm a typical 'cancer' always strive to hide my ass in a warm and quiet place. fussy relatives...my worst nightmare...moms,dads,sisters,half-brothers,grandmoms,dad's ex-wives,ex-girlfriends,current girlfriends...the whole crowd nibbling at my pshyche...in a while i started putting on my 'fuck off' pants whenever they showed up. how long will i have to endure it?another couple of weeks?couple of years?i gotta think of a decent excuse to leave...

В колонках играет - "...i've got a world on a string...sitting on a rainbow..."
Настроение сейчас - awwwesome

it's taken us a long time...though it was worth it
hopefully the thing will be completed soon.
link to the web site:
www.dfc-ru.com

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