Females tell me they love me because I’m tall. They love when I stand over them and look down. They love when I lay them down and my height and body weight dominates them.

Females tell me they love me because I look like an idol . They say they never seen an Asian man so masculine, so pretty, so beautiful before. Females say they love my eyes. They’re jet black too. Women claim they find a passion in them so forceful that they’ll do anything I say.

Females tell me they love my body. They beg me for a hug even when there’s nothing between me and them. They want to be captured in my embrace, and press their breasts against my chest. Some females ask if they can just touch me. Some tremble when my hands touch them. They say they love the muscles in my arms. They surrender when I lift them up. Some of them even say they love the way my teeth look in my mouth and how my feet look in my kicks.

Females tell me they love the way I walk, like I’m soon to own the world.

Most females say they love that I’m quiet. Then shiver when I finally talk.

All of the women show me that they love my guns, the fact that I walk with two of them at times. Even the ones who get scared fall in love with their fear of me. Then they come at me even harder.

Some females say I’m too serious, then shield their eyes to hide their feelings from the shine when I finally smile.

I can’t lie, I enjoy the good times that some of these women offer me. But I don’t take them to heart. I know that they don’t really even know me. All the shit that they are in love with is just my style and my looks, all window dressing.

I know that a man is his own beliefs, his own ideas and actions. If you knew me, you would know what I believe. If you knew me, you would know what I believe. If you knew what I believe, then you would understand how I think. You would understand my ideas and actions. Only then should you decide. Either you believe what I believe, or you admire what I believe and want to get with those beliefs. If not, in the long run, we got nothing in common. I can’t take you seriously. I gotta go. You got nothing that makes me want to stay.

I don’t come from where you come from. I don’t think like you do. My whole situation is different. I come from a country of real men who take real life, real serious.

I wouldn’t trade places with any born man for any amount of cash.

Where I’m from, a son has a first name and three last names. The three last names are the names of his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. Any male who cannot identify his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather is already lost.