Friday, January 1, 2021

A NEW New Year

 A NNEW New Year


2021, has there ever been a year that has been more anticipated?  Not in my lifetime.  2020, has there ever been a year that we've needed to end any more desperately?  Again, not in my lifetime.  It seems appropriate that it's to rain all day.  It feels like the whole world needs cleansing.  Not that a simple rain could accomplish such a herculean task but it's the symbolism that strikes me.  There are a myriad of woes in the world that still need solving but there's a feeling of optimism now that has been missing for far too long.  I have to attribute that mainly to the fact that in 2 weeks, 4 days', 22 hours and 40 minutes and counting down Donald J. Trump will no longer be president!  No, I am NOT a Trump supporter by any stretch of the imagination.  The man is a malignant narcissist and the absolute worst person to have ever held that office.  Not just my opinion, it's been verified by mental health professionals since before he decided to run for the office.  At any rate, I've had my various rants about him on Twitter and for now, that's where I'll leave them.  I'm very much looking towards forgetting his existence.   We also have Covid 19 to deal with but there are now vaccines rolling out and soon the infastructure to get them out and into arms will be in full swing so all I can do there is stay informed and stay safe until our turns come to be injected and make no mistake, I'm going to be in line as fast as they say I can be there!  I happen to like living which is why I have made the sacrifice to shelter at home and mask up when I go out.  I want to see this whole time frame in my past, never to be repeated but never to be forgotten either.

I can't say that everything that we as humanity have encountered during the past year especially has been detrimental to our existence.  Yes, there has been death and devastation but there has also been enlightenment, growth and a reconnecting to knowledge that we once had and had forgotten.  Like how important human touch and connections are.   That spending time with family and friends is absolutely vital to our mental well being.  That our children require our time and involvement in their lives.  Our elderly still have value and things to teach us.  We are our brother's keepers and when our neighbors need help it's a soul healing gift to help them, not only for them but for ourselves.  Our success or failure is bound one to another.  And most of all, there are still many things worth fighting for, especially when it's against injustice. 

I'm not such an optimist that I've put on blinders and am ignoring the negative, and there is a plethera of it, but I am choosing to focus on what we've gotten right, something we don't get enough credit for nor recognize enough.  The whole "if it bleeds, it leads" thing has just gotten way too bloated for our sanity to stay healthy these days.  Yes, we have a lot to work on but we have taken adversity and made some good of it.  Let's hope we stay on that path.  And for those who only want to dwell in the negative, bury yourself with it in the dark of your souls, I choose to find the light.

 


Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Gifts From The Heart




This was recently posted as a post quote on Facebook by someone who’s been a part of my life for a very long time.  I have to say, it made me feel sorry for them although not likely in the manner they had hoped it might.  They’re not a bad person, just misguided and without external insight…

 

“You’ll end up real disappointed if you think people will do for you as you do for them.  Not everyone has the same heart as you.”

 

We have all felt the sting, or crush, of disappointment in our life through many avenues so I know we all understand from where this sentiment might stem.  However, in having known the person who’d placed this statement on their page as a representation of their own feelings, I found myself disconcerted. I began to dissect this particular statement and found duplicity at its core. 

 

One assumes that this person has done something for another ‘out of the goodness/kindness of their heart’.  Perhaps it is the vast ambiguity of this that is the very ‘heart’ of the issue in it’s self.  How that precise organ based act should be defined; the goodness or kindness of one’s heart as well as the term ‘gift’…    I suppose the definition is relative and relevant to the one holding the sentiment over all, how they wish to classify it in regards to the function it serves within their situational sphere.  Usually a self righteous one from my observations though I digress…  I believe there should be a base understanding, so in being that this is my observation on the subject, it will be my own for the course of this post.  You will either agree or not but at least it’s the start of a good discussion, which is the key to any understanding that’s to be had.

 

Giving or doing something out of the goodness or kindness of one’s heart is that which is offered freely, for the sheer grace of the gift of giving, for the pleasure of making another happy or lifting their burden and one that is entirely without expectation or obligation.  Anything less than that misses the mark of being from the heart resoundingly.  This is the point in which it gets convoluted.  With this definition in mind then, how many of us beyond doubt give a gift of the heart?  Suddenly our level of generosity to our fellow man plummets…  Not such a pleasant reflection on our selfless motives is it.  Ok, so if it’s not a gift then what is it we’re offering?  That’s simple though not nearly as magnanimous; it’s merely a trade and one that’s often unbalanced to both party’s reckoning.  Tit for tat, in for a penny – out for a pond, a bargaining chip, leverage.  (That last one being the most primary reason of all.)  In essence it’s being said, “I’m begrudgingly doing this for you BUT, should you agree to accept this thing that you would like, want or might even be desperate to receive, you are agreeing to be obligated to me on MY terms.  I’m expecting something in return on my investment and I get to stipulate the value of what I want back at the time of my choosing.”  Rather mercenary is it not?  Talk about being on the polar opposite side of kind, philanthropic or gifting.  Of course, every transaction varies in the perceived obligation owed.  It might be as simple a string as recognition and acknowledgement but it might also be an intricate web of strings that one may never disentangle themselves from, leaving them the unwitting puppet of a sadist holding the strings, always reminding them of how much they owe in debt for the ‘kindness’ they’ve been afforded.  I’ve observed that this type of ‘giver’ often over valued themselves and their contribution while devaluing that of the person they’ve contributed to or anything that person might have done for them.  Ergo the bane of the ‘giver’s’ disappointment, no one can ever hope to measure up when they’re not the one holding the yard stick.

 

I’m writing this as an observation as well as a reprimand of human behavior.  I also confess my own sin of falling into this practice on occasion, though hopefully not as frequently as I might once have done so since my awareness acuity has sharpened.  I believe it is a reflection of one of the base human nature elements as to how we glean our self worth against that of others but in understanding it’s root then we are able to recognize the trait and correct it accordingly.  This is not a means to discourage anyone from helping others where they can, that should occur far more than it does, it’s to encourage us to be completely honest with ourselves; examine which we’re offering and why.  Doing this might guide us to less disappointment in life if we comprehend that giving anything to another that has been tied up in a pretty bow with the strings of obligation is no gift from the heart.  An authentic gift from the heart holds no expectations thus no prospect of disappointment is created.

Monday, January 20, 2014

Imagine...


Imagine…


You’ve created a different kind of summer for me these days.  Plenty to keep me hot and wet even without the sun!  *grins* It’s been so long that I’m surprised I’m not re-virginized!  I’m so damned tight, tense & hot I’m about to implode!  Oh what I wouldn’t give for the right catalyst!  *wink* Again it’s a late night for me and I’ve been looking at your pics.  All I can think about is putting my arms around your neck, pressing my breasts into the wall of your chest then dancing to that primal music lead by the throbbing of our hearts, swaying my hips against the expansion of your answering need as you pull my hips into you to impress your hardness into my softness.  I want to feel the pressure of your lips against mine, taste you as our tongues invade the warmth of each others mouths.  As I told you before, I love kissing.  Long, deep kisses that grow in intensity till our senses are reeling and we’re breathless!  I want to hold your face in my hands, trace the contours of your brow, feel the pulse at your temples quicken as I fall into the depths of your eyes, feel the roughness of the hair on your face against the smoothness of my cheek as I nibble on your ear lobe, breathing my whispered moans of need into your ear.  Kissing down the column of your neck and feeling the racing of your pulse as your heated blood thunders through your veins to match the rhythm of my own.  I want to tease that hollow at the base of your throat with the tip of my tongue till you tip your head back in the fervor of surrendering the tender spot to the demands of my lips before I move to nip and suck at the skin over your collar bones.  Good God I love the image in my mind!  So simple a thing as to see your head thrown back, the muscles in your neck strained and tight as your passion washes over you makes my breathing increase, gives me goose bumps, my nipples hard and my pussy clench!  I want to feel your hands cupping my breasts, kneading them together, thumbing over my nipples then rolling them between your fingers, pinching them, pulling them into hard knots standing at attention waiting for more.  I want to feel your hand tangled in my hair pulling my head back to allow you to bite and mark my neck and shoulders like I have yours.  I want to feel the warmth of your mouth trail down my chest to find the peaks of my nipples, watch your face transfixed and the need glaze your eyes as you swirl the tip of your tongue around my straining buds before you envelope them with your lips, sucking them in, one then the other, nursing with fervent  greed.  I want to lay back, as  you kiss down my tummy, your beautiful long hair trailing feathery tendrils of delight down my skin.  Feeling your hands stroking my thighs then moving inward to stroke the fine hair covering the mons of my sex.  Slipping your fingers between the outer folds to find the flood of wetness inside the inner excitedly blushing petals.  My hips move in time with your hand, speaking their own plea for more.  Gasping as you insert one then two then three fingers into the soaking center of my passage.  You turn your hand upward, stroking the hidden spongy spot at the front of the wall of my clenching muscles just as you bring your tongue tip to lazily tease around the outside of my clit, working inward till your mouth covers it and you run your tongue flat and long over it.  I clench my hands in your hair, puling your mouth harder against my pussy as I grind my hips into your face as a wave of the purest pleasure forces a loud cry of surrender from my throat.  You remove your fingers only to replace them with the exquisite torture of your mouth.  Your tongue stabbing, rolling, stroking, lapping at the fountain of nectar my flower bestows to a conquering lover.  My breathing is bursting from my lungs, my head thrashing from side to side.  I praise you, encourage you while I ride your mouth until I tense, shudder and explode. 
 
 
You lift your handsome face from between my thighs, smiling, the hair on you face still damp from my juices.  Our eyes lock and you lick your lips slowly, savoring the flavor of me.  The breath catches in my throat.  You stroke the tops of my thighs before using your hand to direct me to roll over onto my stomach.  I flip over, putting my legs to either side of yours then slowly tantalizingly raise my rounded ass upward, swaying alluringly before your smiling face.  Before I surrender fully to the position I rise up on my knees, reaching behind to grasp your lovely hardness and lifting the other up above my head to guide your head forward, tilt my head to the side, inviting you to feast on the flesh of my neck while I press my back against the unyielding wall of your body.  I stroke your hair as you dip your head down to lick, kiss then bite the pulse pounding in my throat.  You look over my shoulder as you wrap your arms around me from behind; grasping my breasts, molding them in your hands to bound the pliant mounds to please your eyes.  One breast is released so that you can again reach between my legs to caress my very sensitive engorged clit.  Your hips move rhythmically as you thrust your steely staff between the cushioned cleavage of my ass that my hand has directed you to, copious pre-cum allows for effortless movement.  There’s spectacular sensation as your cock slides against the small puckered orifice.  A tremor shudders through my body in response.  I wonder which will be your pleasure tonight, knowing it didn’t matter because I’d be delighted with either.  I press back against your cock, encouragingly. You put your hand in the middle of my back, pushing me forward.  I again bend forward, leaning on my elbows, tossing my long platinum hair back, arching my back to undulate my hips in circles against your pelvis.  You smooth your hands over my full round cheeks, growling appreciatively before smacking the pale flesh, not hard enough to be really painful but enough to sting, color the skin and cause me to inhale quickly in response.  You talk to me, ask me how I like what you’re doing, telling me what you want to do.  I respond breathless, panting.  You take your member in your hand, tapping it against my small tight anus.  Then you move forward to position it against my clit where you bump forward, nudging the swollen nerve packed nub to screaming attention.  You moan and smile, loving my response to your teasing but the delicious torment is beginning to overwhelm us both, driving us to frenzy.  You move the sensitive head to the inner lips of my dripping canal, slipping just slightly inside.  Grabbing both my hips you drive deep, burying yourself to the hilt.  You pause, savoring the tight velvety vice of my muscles gripping and releasing.  Again you move a slow luxurious stroke. Almost fully retreating then driving piston-like smoothly forward.  I press backwards, matching your pace.  You grasp my hair, wrapping the soft length of it around your hand, drawing my head up so you can see the expression of sensual pleasure on my face and the swinging of my breasts moving in time to our strokes in the mirror built into the headboard.  As the intensity builds I rock faster.  You’re breathing is ragged, strained as you watch yourself plunging in and out of me.  The darkened petals of my inner lips moving like butterfly wings caressing your length as you move back and forth.  You feel your testicles smacking against the pillow of my swollen clit and labia, feeling the tightening build.  You close your eyes, mouth open panting, and head thrown back.  Both of your hands grasp my waist and you increase your thrusts to jack hammer strength.  Our groans are reverberating around the room, the clap of wet flesh against wet flesh as our nectars blend and smear both our groins.   My upper body has collapsed forward onto the pillows because my arms could no longer support my body which is weakened from the intensity of exertion and emotion.  You swallow hard, opening you eyes to see my face as my body quakes with breaking waves of climax.  This hurls you over the top and you muscles begin to seize you as spastically thrust a few last times before sinking hard and deep to empty your seed into the clenching, milking channel deep in my womb.  As your body relaxes you fall forward, blanketing my body with your own, still buried as every last pearl is drained.  We murmur intimately to each other, content as our breathing returns to normal.  When you finally find some strength returning you roll to the side, pulling me into the curve of your body.  I lean up to kiss you deeply, stroking your face and hair before lying back down with my head on your chest.  As I listen to the beat of your heart you listen to the sound of my softening breaths and we fall into unbroken slumber in one another’s arms… 

 

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

Primordial Touch



Primordial Touch

 

Life has not allotted me the opportunity for much travel so when I am afforded the chance you won’t find another who appreciates it or absorbs the experience quite as acutely as I do!  *grins*  This past October I got my first ‘hands on’ experience of the ocean.  This is a letter I wrote to a special friend about my adventure…

 

 

Hi there love,

 

Just sitting here before my next 3 hour block of time is to begin.  Won’t be time during to add to this but thought I’d jot a few things here then send it to you later…  This job is mind (and ass) numbing.  Certainly not the career I wanted for myself when I was younger looking ahead.  I’d envisioned everything from writer to singer, political sciences to geology, Egyptology to Astronomy.  Psychology to Sex Therapist.  What life has brought me is a wealth of knowledge about many things but no mastery of one area in particular.  *grins*  It’s funny how life often does more of the molding of our future than we do.  Certainly we have plenty of impact but without that crystal ball we don’t know how the choices we’re going to make are going to affect our futures till we’re in them.  Seems that’s when we’re most desirous of wishing we could change them too.  There’s a quote by Mia Angelo – I did the best that I knew at the time and when I knew better, I did better.  Perhaps that’s not exactly true.  Sometimes it may not be better; perhaps it’s only different on some occasions and better on others.  Maybe it’s even worse if we’re not paying attention.  Hopefully it balances somewhere.  Wouldn’t it be nice if we could do it in reverse, see the resulting experience then deconstruct it forensically so that we know what we should or shouldn’t do with our life to get the outcome that we want?  My life would certainly be vastly different.  I think there’s a science fiction novel there if it’s not already been done. 

 

Anyway, I was sitting here thinking about all the conversations I’ve had with you in my head and how sometimes I forget that they weren’t real so the things I’ve told you there that I haven’t actually told you in real life.  You are in my thoughts so often that I almost believe I could send my thoughts out to you and you’d get them through osmosis I suppose.  Ah, if only!  With all that I’ve written to you over the years I’m sure you wonder how it’s even possible that I’ve not already said all that could be said.  *smiles*  I don’t think I could ever run out of things I want to tell you or hear from you, in a few lifetimes maybe but not just in one.  Case in point, my trip to Florida. 

 


What a life changing experience that was for me!  Even with the not so great things that happened, it was phenomenal!  You had always been there with me.  When I finally got down to the beach and into the waves you were with me even more so.  I sat on my towel at the tide line and I couldn’t stop touching the sand, running my hands through it, rolling it between my fingers; wondering about each grain.  Was it a piece of salt, a piece of shell or coral, had it once been part of a dessert or a mountain.  How many things had it been before I’d touched it.  I dug down into it to see what it was like further down, how far did it go?  I wondered if the handprint that I pressed into the bottom before I refilled it would someday be able to be seen in the rock that the sand may become or be washed out to sea as the beach eroded.  I wrote your name in the sand beside me so you could be there with me as I pondered each grain of sand and each drop of water in the ocean.  The writer in me imagined that the oceans were made from every tear ever shed throughout time.  Tears of sadness, joy, pain, laughter…  How old is the water?  You hear about science giving rocks ages but not the water.  What paths had it cut in the earth under and above the ground?  What sins had it washed away, what life had it bestowed or taken?  What shores had it touched?  How many times had it been circulated through the ecological system?  I don’t know what I’d expected in the smell.  Perhaps that fishy smell one finds in the ‘fresh’ seafood area of the local grocery?  I did smell that but only when we had driven near an inset bay that was a bit away from the cleansing circulation of wind and tide.  I wouldn’t want to have to live near that scent but by the ocean there was the astringent saline scent and warm water.  It's that same smell that exists in your nostrils after a sweating workout.  It’s funny, I knew the scent even before I came to the ocean because after I’d spend a couple hours at the gym I’d become aware of that warm saline scent and knew it was the smell of the ocean.  I’d lick my lips and taste the salt my body had extruded from my pores.  I was aware that the elements that lived there were within me, all part of the same as all creatures of this planet, the elements that bound us as one.  Seems less surprising to me now to grasp that when the people of our world are violent, sick or polluted that our planet reflects the same and as our planet is polluted, violent and sickened we are affected likewise.

 

The waves…  Oh love, I wasn’t prepared for that sound or the draw of it on my soul.  I used to think people were crazy who lived by the ocean that had their lives and homes washed away by hurricanes but kept rebuilding in the same area.  I didn’t understand the hypnotic enigma of it.  I get it now!  The very first night, by the time we got in, it was dark so when we came into the condo I wasn’t able to see the ocean because they have no illuminating lights on the sea side, a good thing I think, but I could hear it right there at my feet!  It sounded so close, as if all I needed to do was reach out to grasp it in my hands.  I have never been suicidal but I literally had to sit down and hold myself still because even though I was 11 floors up I felt this intense urge to jump over the rail to get to it.  It was actually rather frightening to be drawn so intensely.  It was a primordial desire that I’d never had fully awakened before.  That dark night I couldn’t tell what direction the waves were flowing.  It sounded like it was rolling left and right but that wasn’t possible.  Waves go in and out, not side to side…  It wasn’t till the next morning that I understood why.   As the wave broke on the shore the wake would run the length of the wave along the edge of the tide line.  I started thinking of these as runner waves because they sort of chased each other along the edge of the sand.  That’s what had given that side to side sound that had thrown me off.  Every night I slept with the patio doors and the bedroom door open.  For a week I didn’t listen to music, didn’t turn on a television because the only sound I wanted to hear was the ocean.  It mesmerized me during the day and sang to me like a lullaby at night.  I have never felt so peaceful nor slept as well as I did that week.  The ocean surprised me every day with its moods.  The first night the waves broke hard enough that the water smacked against its wake as it curled and fell upon it’s self as it rushed the shore.  The first day it rained all day but that didn’t stop me from sitting outside absorbing the mists to hear its muted roar, watch it shift the sands and see the white caps dancing.  The second day the water was so still!  Not quit a dead calm but almost.  The colors were amazing!  It has to be because of its longitude/latitude that caused the skies to be so deeply blue and the oceans clarity reflecting it back with a tinge of turquoise that made all the colors appear so much more vivid and alive.  The whiteness of the sun hung in the blueness of the sky like a giant pinpoint flashlight whose light wasn’t as diffused as I’m used to seeing here, even in the summer.  Plus I’ve noticed that whenever I’ve been in the more southern areas of the country that the sky ‘feels’ closer.  That the place where clouds would exist is a shorter distance away than it is the further north one would go, the bowl of the sky is nearer though wider to the south than it is towards the poles.  Perhaps that’s because of the equator.  I don’t know other than it’s something that I’ve made note of in my limited traveling experience.

 


I was amazed at how crystal clear the water was!  I’ve never seen that before, or at least not since I was very young in small streams.  I’ve been to Lake Erie; I’m in Ohio so we all go there eventually.  I live in an area where there are five rivers that converge through my city so I’ve grown up around rivers and streams.  I’ve been to Boston so I have at least seen some of the Atlantic in flying over it & from Long Wharf behind the tide wall in the city but all of those are murky and threatening.  Even knowing there was life there it was hard to believe anything would want to live in that kind of gloom.  This water was not like that at all!  I thought with such an obvious abundance of life and sand and salt it would be cloudy too.  When I first stepped into it I felt so many things at once.  First there was the power of it, the absolute knowledge of my insignificance to this thing that was the second oldest thing I’d ever touch, the first being the ground beneath my feet.  But the ground records our imprint where as the ocean simply removes it all together.  Water is the blood of the planet and the tides are the pulse of its heart.  It literally wipes away the evidence that we even came near it.  We may leave our trinkets on its floor but it eventually takes it apart or buries it.  As you said I would, I stood there and felt the sand being pulled right out from under my feet.  Eventually my feet ended up buried but once I moved from the spot any proof of where I’d been vanished in the wash of the waves.  I used to think that the woodlands marked the slowness of times passing and our newness but the sea is so much more ancient than the trees and I have never been so clearly aware of the length of time as I was as I stood there looking out into the waves.  It wasn’t just water; it was a living thing, this ocean.  I have never been afraid of water and I wasn’t actually afraid of this although I do respect it but I was cautious of it because it was unknown.  This was no safe chlorinated pool.  It was an alien yet familiar place where life existed and thrived around me.  From the condo balcony I’d seen dolphins leaping in the distance and manta rays frolicking at the edge of the surf.  While in the water there were little schools of tiny fish flashing metallic around my calves, sea weed floating in with the tides, a jelly fish that I made a point to avoid.  I ducked my head under the water, knowing better than to open my eyes like I might in a swimming pool and when I came up I licked my lips, tasted the salt.  I was shocked.   I’ve known all my life that the ocean was salty but it really is brine!  This only made me even more curious how things could live in it without literally being pickled.  I wondered if being near the shore intensified the saltiness or was it just as potent in open water.  I’ve been told it’s the same no matter where you are.  I then had to wonder how so much salt gets into the water.  What chemical reaction causes it to exist in the levels that it does in some bodies of water but not in others?  Yes, the whole thing seriously brought out my geek side (of course I had to look up the answers) and I so wanted you there to talk to about it.  You truly were sharing it with me in my mind though silently.  You are sometimes such a substantial presence in my mind that I feel that you must feel me pulling you into my world to share my experiences.  Ergo why I sometimes forget that you’ve not and I need to share then with you the old fashioned way.  Though I do believe that our connection is such that there has been much that truly has passed between us beyond the constraints of the physical realm. 

 

*smiles* I did have to adjust some of my thinking.  Sex on the beach or in the ocean…  Not happening!  At least not easily…  Sand got into areas where it shouldn’t have been just from being in the water a short time.  Sitting on the beach was a total ‘sands on’ lesson in abrasion that I hadn’t fully grasped prior to having lived it.  So I’m thinking, sure, play in the ocean and the sand then leave the sex for the nicely chlorinated pool or the shower that is a necessity after spending time in the ocean!  Or better yet, the balcony overlooking and mimicking the pounding of the waves on the shore… *grins*  I really was amazed at all the places I found sand when I took my showers!

 

When I got home I called my friend in Missouri who had lived for years in Ventura, California so I could share my ocean experience with someone who had lived near one.  After I’d regaled her with all my observations, feelings and ponderings she told me that she had spent years going to the ocean but had never looked at it or felt the things I had described before.  Not that it wasn’t like that but she had just never taken it in or been affected by it like I had been.  I was mystified, how could she not?  I can’t be all that different from others am I?  Or maybe I’m just greedier for the experiences that make me more susceptible to their impact.  I know I’ve always been a very tactile person, I absorb what’s around me through my entire being but surely something like the ocean has to pack a pretty big punch with anyone who gets near it doesn’t it?  I know that it very much affected me.  I dream of getting back to it.  Oh how could one sleep long who could wake up each day in paradise and be sung into dreams by the ocean each night!

 

Thus ends this missive…

 

Love you lots dear heart!

 
 

Myself
Author - Mo (VJM)
 
I am comforted by no one
But myself
I am held by no one
But myself
I am heard by no one
But myself
I am real to no one
But myself
I am cared for by no one
But myself
I am touched by no one
But myself
I am loved by no one
But myself
I am lost to no one
But myself
I stay strong for no one
But myself


Friday, October 5, 2012

Gifts (#quotepic)

As I've said before, I love quotes!  I not only collect them but I come up with my own through the inspiration of life.  This is one of mine...

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Ass+u+me


I have someone in one of my circles on Google+ who happens to have a very lucrative business selling sex toys.  Today he made a statement on his stream that sort of threw me off balance a bit.  He said, “They say it’s important to know who your customer is, but do I really want to know who my customer is that buys the inflatable butt plug?” 

My reply was, “(name here) you probably already DO know the person who would buy this! Even for those we think we know we never really do down deep to their souls and souls hide lots of secrets we don't tell the world. So as I said, I'm betting you already do know them.” 

I started thinking about their statement, especially in light of how they make their living, and I got more put off with every path my mind traveled.  It struck me as a very ‘Rupert Murdock’ sort of attitude.  ‘I’ll sell them this product and gladly take their money but I wouldn’t associate personally with them knowing that they do business with me.’  A sort of moral judgment per sae but to who’s morality?  It’s a very narrow and unfair view of those who’s patronage they rely and capitalize on.  I’ve been on the internet for about 15 years & I’ve hung out in adult rooms, fetish rooms, as well as general interest rooms and I can tell you that the majority of the people who hang out in the more colorful places are just the same as all the rest of the ‘vanilla’ crowd, they are just a bit more open and expressive of that specific facet of their life.  As long as I’ve been around I’ve talked to a great many people on a great many subjects and I know that those who purchase & use sex toys are not ‘deviants’ or those who are socially questionable.  And for those who are ‘questionable’ they aren’t more or less so if they buy or use them.  They just simply are regardless of that fact.  I’m not saying that there aren’t deviants out there who do use them but just as every oak is a tree but every tree is not an oak, the same goes here.  Deviants may buy sex toys but not everyone who buys them is a deviant.

I suppose what bothered me the most about what he said was that it was a reflection of a way of thought that I find incredibly erroneous and virulent.  It’s a negative painting of a person’s character overall based on a single small facet of the whole of what makes them up.  Example: We had a teacher locally who was an exemplary educator, very well respected and liked by both colleagues and students, but it was found that he wrote erotic poetry under a pseudonym.  He never published anything where his students might find it, never wrote about any illegal sexual content and didn’t do his writing during working hours.  Yet he happened to tell someone who told someone who either had an axe to grind against him, probably jealousy, or was a prude who then ‘turned him in’ and he was fired!  The sentiment being, ‘They didn’t want someone with that kind of mentality teaching their children.’ WTF?!  Teachers are to be eunuchs or asexual now?  First and foremost, no one pays anyone enough money to be able to dictate what an individual does with their life outside the workplace.  Somehow that area is becoming more and more blurred, thus more and more dangerous to our personal freedoms.  I don’t know how the rest went after that but it’s certainly not the only case of its kind.  I’m hoping he sued, got damages and reimbursement for the lunacy he should never have had to endure and moved on to a place where minds weren’t as littered with pompous narrow minded ugliness. 

I’ve often wondered if there was a degree in which we are responsible for how others see or perceive us.  What portion is our responsibility to what is theirs because they are most certainly viewing us through their own filters.  At what point does our liability end and theirs begin?  Or perhaps the better question would be, why the hell aren’t more of us asking ourselves that question or even recognizing that this is a commonly practiced behavior?  My theory is that if we looked more closely at why we do the things we do and to what ends they bring us as well as all others affected we might not engage in more of the less than desired acts that we perpetrate one against the other.  We’ve gone from the adage of ‘think first, act later’ to just act out and not think at all.  Is this were the murder of common sense was committed?  Our thoughts are the same as our actions.  Intellect demands governors on action.  Not to restrain them but to direct them to their most productive end.  There is a need to examine why is it we come to the conclusions we do, see the filters that we see life through clearly so that we understand why we make the conclusions thus take the actions that we do.  I’d like to remind readers here that there is NO single person in this place or in this life that you can trust gives you absolute unerringly accurate information 100% of the time yet we believe, without question, what we tell ourselves…  Hmm, something wrong with that equation is there not? 

What I am entirely certain of is my G+ friend should be very aware that he has likely already been and will continue to be personally painted by the very same brush of misperception that he himself welds far too easily.

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

"If you scatter thorns, don't go barefoot." Italian Proverb


The other day I was perusing the posts from my circles on Google+.  I found one that has weighed heavy on my mind for the last two days, even to the point of waking me up so as to get my thoughts recorded on the subject.  The identity of the one who posted is irrelevant as are those who replied to the post because this is a trending attitude of late in our society as a whole that many of us say we find disturbing yet too few resist the inclination to participate.  These individuals merely reflect that trend and stirred my desire to respond over all.  The post was about how people edit themselves when ‘faced’ with responding to another’s posting.  The gist of the question was; are there others out there who debate with themselves on how they answer or respond to a certain type of post.  Are they brutally forthright with their true feelings or do they edit their response upon reading a post from someone else in an ‘effort’ at politeness.  (*Suggestion – contrary to self belief, you DO NOT have to respond to a post just because you see it!  The person is going to do or not do whatever it is they want regardless or in spite of your input.  So if they don’t place that much relevance in your opinion you might rethink doing the same.)  Is it not sad that it should be such a hard won effort in the first place?  Now given, this was in reference apparently to someone who had a habit of posting to the negativity of their life.  Like none of us aren’t familiar with those peeks and valleys ourselves.  The responder wanted to know if there were others out there who felt like she did, that she was ‘restraining’ herself from being harsher in her responses.  I looked at all the replies she in turn got that said they were more than willing to be ‘blunt, honest, true to their own inclinations…’  One went so far as to say ‘offense is taken, never given.’  WTF?  Really?  Believe me, if I’ve a desire to ‘give’ offense the recipient is most definitely aware of it whether they ‘take’ it or not.  I’m sure the quotability looked good even if the thought was ludicrous and fell far short of completion.  Sure, the internet gives us refuge in delightful anonymity so we often think its ‘ok’ to just give it to ‘em straight, tell the truth even if it hurts.  May I remind those of you who feel this way that truth is a matter of perception, not reality.  What may be truth to you may not, in fact, apply to every situation.  So this person, the original poster, tends to run into negativity.  Why is it people think that if they have a single bit of information that the story they create around it to flesh it out without actual input from those whose life they are fictionalizing is 100% accurate?  Good lord, we never believe anyone else’s accuracy to be that high but we sure as hell love to believe we have all the answers all the time!  If that doesn’t scream convenient willful ignorance I don’t know what does.  What also made me respond was that a good number of these responders were writers.  I learned that the cardinal question we all are required as writers to ask ourselves constantly is, ‘what if…’  What if this was a person you loved, what if their circumstances won’t allow them the clarity that others might have in problem solving, what if there are circumstances affecting the situation that they aren’t disclosing…  What if, what if, what if.  We don’t have all the answers and we’ve also stopped asking the right question.  Back to the original poster…  We don’t know what struggles they have had in life; we don’t know what they may have already overcome.  We don’t know the frame of reference that has brought them to this point in life where they are reaching out hoping for a care only to be smacked in the face.  Who even really knows they were looking for a response?  Perhaps the idea was simply to vent, to make what they were struggling with a tangible thing so that they are more able to deal with it.  And what if they were looking for input?  Telling someone to hike up your big girl panties & man up helps how other than to be condescending and callous.  Sure, you can dump your ‘truth’ out there like a stinking pile of verbal garbage and be proud, expecting everyone to be impressed as they walk around it trying not to step on your toes just in case you feel like dumping more but guess what folks, your opinion is simply that, yours.  No better but often worse than you might think it is if all the effort you put into it is casting word bombs, expecting people to think because you do you’re ‘special’.  Not fucking likely.  I am a writer, have been one all my life.  Not because I’m published but because it is something I’ve always done, like breathing, it’s my art, my natural form of expression, a wide open window to my thought process if there are those who care to explore.  Even if they don’t, I’m still going to write even if I sometimes only do it in my head.  I know the importance of words.  I know how they can be healing or hurting, powerful or cutting, inspirational or damning.  All of which is why I don’t throw them about randomly or without thought often.  I’m fine with often keeping my thoughts to myself; they’re good company and they tend to mature better that way.  What I also know about words is that they only have the power someone else assigns to them, that is true, but those who parry with that mighty sword hopes most that their words are powerful enough to cut deepest so there is responsibility when you send them out to represent you.  Too sad is that of late words have become a substitute for action and a wall against empathy.  There is a psychological behavior called leveling in which one elevates them when they feel lesser than another by putting another down.  Some of you ‘internet truth tellers’ might want to dig a bit deeper into your own psyche before you pull out the poison pen, or keyboard as it were.

I am a great believer in Karma.  I’ve often been told that I am far too kind, too polite, too caring for my own good.  I don’t think so.  I put out what I want back.  I treat others as I want to be treated.  I know the stones I cast into the waters of life create waves that affect me as well as the others around me whom I love.  Am I perfect, God no.  I have my moods and there are the trolls who deserve my wrath but it’s vented on those who are blatant idiots.  Not those who are vulnerable.  And yes, I have known more than my fair share of whiners who couldn’t find a positive grain if a beach of it were set before them but my response to that type is to simply remove them from my life and my concern.  Nothing I could say, good or bad, will ever impact them.  They’re bottomless wells and it’s not my job to fill them up but just the same, I’m not insensitive towards them.  I have compassion, empathy and sympathy for them but also know where my boundaries extend and where they do not.  Even if I don’t personally care for them I have my own set of humanitarian mores that I have to answer to and those say I will not go out of my way to be unkind simply because I have the ability to do so.  There is a time, place and audience for rapier wit and that’s generally not served flaming someone’s personal page.  I’m writing this in an attempt to remind some of you out there, you’re better than the internet can influence you to be.  You create your interactions here but karma will find you in your personal life as well.  Example: When you child cries to you of being bullied remember that the bullies learned their intolerance from an intolerant and uncaring parent.  I’m not a tremendously religious person, more a spiritual explorer but the phrase, ‘but by grace go I’, has a big influence on my thoughts and how I interact with others.  There are places where cutting wit is encouraged and welcome but what point is it to take aim at a target that has no defense or doesn’t even know they’re a target.  Wit is a controlled substance, it is ‘verbose genius’ best served to those who appreciate the effort, it’s not hurtful or meant for general audiences.  I started this with a quote I just recently found, it was timely and telling.  One, which perhaps, more should be taking to heart.

Monday, December 19, 2011



Out of the Blue…

I’d been thinking about writing this blog for a while and have decided that now is the time.  In the job that I do I get calls all day long so inexorably someone will volunteer personal information about their situations without prompting of any kind from me.  I have always been a listener so perhaps they either sense that or I have a voice that invites Aunt Agony confessions.  Either way there was a man who called for other purposes but then began to explain that he was flustered, after 26 years of marriage his wife divorced him ‘out of the blue’.  I have tons of compassion because I realize that he was in the middle of a major life changing event, that he couldn’t possibly predict all the consequences that were going to result from the incident.  But just because things were different, requiring him to make adjustments didn’t mean it was inevitably or conclusively going to be a negative in his life.  Different doesn’t equate to bad.  Even with all that empathy I couldn’t help feeling a bit annoyed because there is one thing I do know without a doubt; it did NOT happen ‘out of the blue.’  He may not have been paying attention, a possible root to the problem in the first place; he may have played ostrich sticking his head in the sand to deny that it was worse than he wanted to acknowledge that it was or perhaps he just took for granted.  Supposing that things had rolled along as they had for all that time so that momentum would invariably carry them through, but, it didn’t get there over night or happen ‘out of the blue.’  Please don’t think I’m singling men out here either.  Women play the same unrealistic mental mind fuck games with themselves as well.  Ah, the story teller syndrome…  More on that at another time.

I’ve decided, being that I’m living the situation now, to inform you of some facts based in reality, at least through my perception of it.  Isn’t that all any of us have anyway?

This did NOT happen out of the blue!!!  Paper is thin but it still has two sides.  There can be entirely different perspectives written on either side, sharing nothing in common but depending on the situation of the emotional instrument being used in writing, one side will make an impression and/or bleed onto the other side and it WILL be seen!  Acknowledgment is an entirely different beastie that most choose not to heed.  It’s more than just having blinders on, the only way it’s unexpected is if they’re totally dead to reality.  Did you know there is an employment test for awareness?  My husband has failed it.  There’s a shock!  I think there are some who need to be given that test BEFORE they get married and have to renew it every few years like a license!  Hmm, perhaps it should be posed as a course that starts in high school and advanced courses could be offered in college.  Just a thought…  *grins*

It actually starts to go wrong far BEFORE we get into those committed relationships.  No one gives us a guide on how to choose the person who will be our best relationship match when we first begin to dream of the person that we hope will share our life.  Those little ‘compatibility’ games we played in writing down each name with our own, crossing out the duplicate letters then doing the ‘love, hate, friendship, marriage’ thing with the remaining letters just don’t flippin work!  Even if we had a crystal ball we wouldn’t pay it any mind.  Our hearts and hormones have little to do with long term relationship forecasting!  If they did then they’d be about as accurate as weathermen!  The choices we make are based on a lot of factors; few that will carry over into the long haul. 

Attractiveness – Hey, we’re going sleep with them, maybe even reproduce with them, so we want them to be appealing, right?   What I’ve found here on the other side of youth is that those who are gorgeous young don’t usually stay that way.  Gee, imagine that!  Of course, those who weren’t so hot when they were young can turn into knock outs later on!  Gotta love the late bloomers!  But beauty is in the eye of the beholder isn’t it.  There are some fabulous physical beauties that are malignantly ugly to the core as there are precious stunning souls who are as ordinary as a blade of grass.  Where beauty is concerned, it’s something you really don’t find fact in as early as one might assume.  Real beauty is something that presents it’s self over time and has depth.  But when we’re young we don’t always know that. 

Compatibility – ok, so we think we know what we want when we’re young and know how to go about getting it.  What idiots we were!  Most of the time we didn’t have a clue other than we had our hearts set to that one person and one damned way or another we were going to have them!  God forbid it happened to be someone that our family didn’t approve of!  Again, from my own personal experience, let someone tell a teen what they can’t have and that’s just what they want.  Too many young couples have been driven into each others arms by way of ‘good intentions.’  Often the relationship is an escape; one preferable to what they’re moving away from - real or perceived.  We feed ourselves the fiction of what we want our life to be and then expect it to happen.  Some of us clumsily stagger along; little wonder the foundation was sandy rather than firm.  If goals are set and direction is employed then we find momentum but life is no perpetual motion machine.  Falling backwards is a hazard if efforts aren’t made to keep it going forward.  We can’t just love them, we have to really like the person we’re with; as they are rather than what we want them to be or plan to shape them into.  So much time and effort is wasted on power plays in the beginning.  I understand it stems from learning to live in new conditions with a person you are still getting to know but believe when I tell you that here is where patterns are set.  The scars to come are first cut.  Insidious shadows first creep.  Also be aware that when choosing someone you are subconsciously selecting someone who allows you to be what you think your role should be in that relationship.  A strong willed person is going to select a mild mannered person so that their own character can dominate.  Understand that well.  Somewhere down the line when you want to complain that your partner is weak or too pushy, remember that we teach people how to treat us as well as we pick our poisons.  We have just as much hand in our misery as our joys.  I also think that we tend to see others potential possibly more than they might see it themselves.  Just remember that potential is what they are capable of being, not necessarily what they want to or will be; attaining more is up to them, not you.  When relationships go bad we tend to beat ourselves up doubting our ability to judge character.  We turn it in on ourselves and get angry at the other who didn’t live up to our judgment.  Perhaps we aren’t wrong, perhaps we just hope for more than they are able to be for us.  The fit isn’t what it should have been for the best outcome.  As a general rule I have also noticed that there are those I call short termers and those who are long termers.  Short termers never stay in a relationship for more than a few years at the most at a time and usually they are shorter than that.  They sort of have relationship A.D.D.  These folks generally have unrealistic ideals of what a relationship should be as well as what the role the other person in it with them should be.  They tend to be a bit more self involved.  But to their favor they aren’t willing to waste time to put up with all the idiocy that some people can bring into the mix.  Long termers are in it for the long haul.  They work at it; they are too stubborn or stupid to give up.  They’re short fall is that they tend to tolerate a lot more than perhaps they should over time and usually invest far more than they can afford to lose should it fail.  They also tend to slant to the side of martyrdom.  The one thing for certain is that never the two shall mix successfully.  Next category to be aware of are those who are of words, those who are of action and the rare breed who can do both.  The ‘word’ person is going to talk a lot but not follow through often.  The ‘action’ person is going to do what needs doing for the most part but as they want because they aren’t willing to talk to get any other input but their own.  The magic equation is the one who can do both. 

Love – all we need is love…  Bullshit!  That fantasy works for teenagers and those in their early 20’s ONLY.  Ask anyone, male or female past the age of 35, whose real brain cells have kicked in if love is enough and they’ll laugh in your face.  A relationship is the fabric a couple weaves together.  It’s only as strong, as rich as what’s put into it.  Even the strongest and richest can become tattered if its not cared for properly.  Also know that there is no one in your life ever that you can love enough, cajole enough, push enough, wish enough, drag enough into doing or being anything more than they want to be.  The pain you might feel on their behalf is only going to be yours.  It won’t move them to your way of thinking, doing or being.

In the beginning it’s the little things, like a cancer cell, one mutation at a time.  Example:  She’s cleans the house but everyday you throw your dirty clothes on the floor rather than in the laundry hamper.  ‘Cleaning up in the home is her job!’ you might be thinking.  (There are a lot of stupid sexism ideals that rear their ugly heads in the beginning of relationships on both sides of the x/y fence)  Well let’s see, switch places here…  If you are working all day, every day and on call all the other hours you weren’t actually out there doing your thing and someone came behind you who intentionally countermines everything you’ve put your efforts into doing how might you feel?  Wouldn’t that feel like a personal attack to you?  Then why would you do this to someone you claim to love?  Have you ever noticed we tolerate more from strangers and extend more courtesy to them than we do to those we profess to care about?  How the hell does that possibly work to anything other than disaster in the end?  First thing that usually breaks in a relationship is that each person’s efforts get undermined and underappreciated by the other.  Besides, you’re an adult!  You are capable thus you have NO excuse.  You should want a clean home, money in the bank, a secure future, each others happiness too and be willing to invest small efforts to have those things.  Your life, your family and your home are where you showcase all the efforts you invest your time working towards.  Your home is your trophy case, illustrating what and whom you care for.  Taking care of things means you don’t have to replace them as often so that what you work so hard to earn can be used for other things you enjoy.  Having to continuously repeat an action that you’ve already done that is not part of routine maintenance is bad time management.  The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.  Put the damn dirty clothes where they belong and she doesn’t bitch and you both get more time to do things you enjoy!  Why is that such a hard concept?  Again, ladies, you’re not off the hook either.  My biggest pet peeve about women is that they go into a relationship with the attitude that she really doesn’t like everything about him but she can mold him into what she wants him to be once they’re in a committed relationship.  If they have a track record of a particular behavior why the hell do you think you’re the magic key that turns it around?  Yep, in you’re mind you just that SPECIAL!!  I’ll call the short bus for ya…  Honey, if you don’t like him now or some of the things he does, you’re going to like him a hell of a lot less later because those things are going to drive you nuts as well as consistently get worse!  No matter how much you want him to do it like you would if you are stupid enough to forget he is NOT you, not like you and never will be then you only get what you deserve.  I’m not saying that you BOTH shouldn’t set a high standard but make it realistic with attainable steps in between, just realize that you each have priorities and they don’t always mesh.  Find his strengths, not his weaknesses and set him on those paths where he’ll find success and praise him so that he gets used to those ego strokes.  We all enjoy them and will go out of our way to earn them, even attempting things that may be out of our comfort zones!  Imagine that!  Never discourage him when he makes the effort even if it’s not to your liking because as soon as you do he’ll never try again and even more will be left to you to do.  And lastly, most importantly – never forget this is a man you are with.  If you want someone who acts like you then heterosexuality is not the right game for you.  Don’t try so hard to neuter him; you won’t like what you end up with in the end.  If you do when you need your man to stand up on his own two feet you’re going to find bit by bit you’ve removed everything from his waist down; crippling him to be what he should have been.  And stop trying to erase the evidence of him in the home!  So he has an ugly chair, picture, trophy that you think is tacky and you hate it!  Too bad!  He lives there too!  This is a good place to learn compromise and negotiation.  Look them up.  These are much better life skills to have over spoiled brat syndrome always wanting your way.  Besides, if you plan on having children you might as well introduce yourself to chaos slowly, what better way then through him!  *wink*  Let him have his friends and you keep yours.  You’re both going to need that network of support in your life.  Just because you are a couple doesn’t mean that you cease to be individuals.  You have to have experiences together as well as apart so that when you are together you’re able to bring things that are fresh, new and interesting to the unit.  As I’ve said in previous blogs, some of the best teachers we ever have in life are those who do it wrong because we get to see the results without having to experience them first hand.  Pay attention to what works and doesn’t work for others in your social circles.  Besides, isolating yourselves may be fun at first but in the end it’s another thing you’ll regret that will bite you in the ass later in your life together.

After the beginning, kids come along, work demands and life has settled into a pattern.  Things seem fine, alls going well and you’re content…  Not likely.  You’re just too distracted to deal with the gnawing annoyances.  You’ve stopped making time for yourself.  You start to examine your life.  You had plans, dreams and desires.  How does what you have compare to what you thought you’d have by this point?  It’s usually not very well.  It’s easier to adjust your ideals here at the midway point than it will be later on.  You’ve stopped making time for each other.  Sex is something you get through or just do to get out of the way more often than not.  It’s never as often or all that it should be.  Another thing I know for certain is that no one person can be all things to another person at all times and no matter how much you might want it to be different no one can will it into being otherwise.  That knowledge isn’t going to take away the feeling of isolation you’re beginning to feel in the relationship.  This is a dangerous time.  When couples stop reaching for each other to fulfill their needs yet if they aren’t fulfilled they will start to reach out to others.  At first it’s just support, some innocent flirtations, an ear, a shoulder, someone to make them feel desirable and allows them some bit of self indulgence.  In the beginning these things generally come from a variety of people.  They’re harmless then because there’s no ‘re-coupling’ going on.  It’s when the isolation goes deeper and the chasm between the two feels insurmountable that the unconscious search begins.  The connection is unraveling.  We tend to either feel vulnerable to re-coupling or a great desire to break away to independence.  We seek what’s missing.  If it’s gotten to this point it’s very likely communication is sporadic at best.  The things that really matter are being buried, internalized.  Again, this didn’t happen ‘out of the blue.’  She’s talked and he’s ignored her.  He’s struggled and she’s given him no credit.  He can’t understand why such things bother her; she can’t understand why those things don’t bother him.  If a relationship doesn’t progress and evolve as it goes along it can have no hope of survival.  Patterns and routine will kill any relationship regardless of who’s stuck in them.  So the cancer grows and goes deeper…

There’s a common complaint I hear from men, who have always loved talking to me about anything and everything but especially about their sexual prowess.  Surprise, surprise!  ‘We don’t have sex like we used to anymore.  She never wants it and if she does it’s boring.’  Now this is an area that varies from couple to couple but one thing that I have noticed that I find amazing is that people are willing to do things with and to each other that they’re terrified to talk about.  How strange is that?  My belief is that if you can’t say it out loud then you damned well shouldn’t be doing it!  You’re not mature enough yet!  When we’re younger its new, fun and something to explore together but even then we rarely ask for what we really want or need physically.  Then as we get older she’s wrapped up in everything except him because she’s managing the family, as is her nature, and he still wants the highly physical stimulation, as is his nature, they condemn each other for it!  He may have had or still has an interest in adult magazines or movies but some women feel personally offended by it.  I don’t get it.  (I happen to own and look at far more adult content than my husband does.  He’s not a prude but he’s also not as sensually oriented as I am.  It is what it is.)  Do you see guys bitching over the books that women read, the shows they like to watch, and all the distractions that they use for escapism?  Not usually huh.  She whines, ‘but I don’t look like those women, it gives them a false idea of what women should look like or want.’  It’s a fantasy babe.  I know you love your man but really, in most cases do you think if your guy walked up to a woman like that she’s going to just drop to her knees and worship him?  Yes guys, I know that’s how your best wet dream goes but even you know you’re not Hugh Hefner.  Then again, isn’t it flattering that your lady thinks so much of you that she believes the bombshell type couldn’t help but want you as much as she does?  Think about it, she may not say it but her actions are screaming that you’re a rock star in her eyes.  *winks*  Oh and ah, guys, women are very sexual, especially as she gets older.  Just think of yourself at 18 and how dynamic that awareness was for you.  It’s the same for her later on and if she doesn’t want sex that much it’s not that she isn’t sexual anymore, as you often tell yourself, it’s just very likely she doesn’t want sex with YOU!  There IS a difference.  The thing to remember about woman is that they don’t differentiate between what goes on outside the bedroom from what goes on in it.  The physical and the emotional are one and the same.  If there are issues in other parts of the relationship it’s going to affect the way she relates to you sexually as well.  If she’s gotten to that point then sadly, there is little a man can do to reverse that sentence.  Although, from my own conversations with some men there do seem to be those men who see sex as little more than a bodily function; something to be done casually at any time, anywhere with the currently available vessel that is little more than receptacle of the release. It may be more pleasurable than taking a piss but for some men it’s of little more impact to them than just that.  Ah the conquering male!  Those who subscribe to that kind of behavior don’t seem to realize that it’s equivalent to a small dog running around the neighborhood trying to mark territory.  It’s rather mindless and pathetic.  He loves the pursuit but after that…?  Yes, I know that sounds rather crass and base but there’s no other way of putting it to make it any prettier than what it is.  Not to say this is every man, it certainly isn’t but if by chance your woman feels any inkling that this same attitude is manifesting in your relationship it will wedge you apart permanently.  There’s plenty of blame to be spread to both men and women.  Even though he’s not the raging hormonal teen he is still a guy.  They are visual & physical.  Both men & women tend to get lazy as far as their creativity goes with each other in the bedroom.  Not surprising.  If they aren’t talking about it then they aren’t doing it!  Viagra – whoopee, you can pop a pill and get hard and she’s supposed to just fall all over you because you’ve got wood!  Right!  You’re so proud of that appendage, it’s what defines you as male, always has; at least in your mind.  Such a noble accomplishment that your body should function as it was meant to or that there’s a pill that can aid it to do so when the plumbing gets a kink.  Man logic - A hard cock equates to virility & power.  Sure caveman.  Mister, you better be packing more between your ears as between your legs if you’re going to stand a snowballs chance in hell.  I can tell you it’s not working for her and you’re going to be out of the game if that’s all you come swinging with.  Most of the Viagra, or other ED drugs being used, are being popped by guys who are too lazy to be creative.  Nothings wrong with the plumbing other than lack of enthusiasm.  Routine is death to anything that should be exciting!  Another point on Viagra…  The mere fact that this was the first drug of its kind to come out and that it came out for men tells you plenty right there!  Men can be sexually selfish at times, even before the advent of Viagra!  A really smart man would have invented the drug for women first, that is if women were yet allowed by society to be sexual beings in the first place…  Anyway, think about it guys, how hot would it be if your woman could take a pill that had her so hot she’d be all over you?  Talk about the gift that keeps on giving!  The pharmaceutical companies would make huge money because both men and women would be buying it up like tic tacs!  There are a lot of reasons why women lose interest.  It’s not because someone else has necessarily caught their fancy but more likely the relationship has taken enough of a toll that she’s finding her pleasure for herself either with a little bean time or maybe some hot sexting.  See, she’s going to be a sexual being whether you like it or not and with or without you.  Hey, being a long time writer of erotically explicit materials both publicly and privately I can tell you women love reading or writing some naughty prose and likely invented sexting!  (That and the hand held shower massage! *grins*)  You do notice that it goes on a lot but it’s just the guys who keep getting busted doing it?  She’s much cleverer in her pursuits I can guarantee you!  Oh and for the record.  I do NOT think sexting is cheating although it can be used as a gateway to that end obviously if it’s taken into reality.  Generally it’s just one of the many ways men and women interact socially.  It’s exciting, its fun, it’s also very eye opening.  You find out things about people you might not have guessed, including yourself!  Sexting is used differently by each person.  Though for me personally, it’s not something I neither do casually nor am I open to doing it with anyone just for the fun of it.  It’s private territory.  I have to have a hell of a connection with someone, which has taken place over time and is far more complex than just the physical attraction.  I require my muse.  *smiles*  But even this can be a painful reminder of what’s missing in your relationship/life, therefore adding to the feelings of frustration and isolation.  Yet another thing to want and not be able to have.

Mid-life crisis…  I hate this term.  If by chance you’ve managed to make it through all the rest to this point without having fixed the problems or baled sooner then I feel your pain.  The kids are grown; on their own or at least of an age where they damned well ought to be but might not be.  You’re finding yourself in the same house with what may be just short of a stranger; behaving more as room mates than a couple.  Living together but separated emotionally.  Not that you don’t care about one another, you’ve just come to the knowledge that it’s time to focus on yourself again.  Time is running out.  Maybe you’ve had some health concerns and are really beginning to feel your mortality.  You’ve done the family life, some of it was good, and some of it wasn’t.  Life isn’t a dress rehearsal, it’s here and now and there’s no more time to put things off for later because later may not come.  I don’t see this point in life as a crisis except to those who have become complacent and want no more than they have settled for.  Just how long and to what point do you sacrifice your desires, dreams and ideals to give someone else theirs?  How much is the ransom for self worth?  I suppose the question to pose over the whole of it is if you could go back and do it again, would you?  If the answer is no then it’s time to walk away.  If by chance you say that you would to a point but you’d change things so that they would be different then change them now.  If they can’t be changed then again you’re at a stalemate.  This is the place where I currently struggle, the questions I ponder most at the moment.  I think if I could change things I’d personally start my own cult, be the goddess of it and collect my own personal harem of men.  But that’s just me…  And what kind of person wants to be in a relationship where both are not living to their authentic self?  Who is this who’s closing their eyes to your needs and only allowing for their own?  These are the people who think divorces ‘come out of the blue.’  Again, they forget that there was more than one person in the relationship and perhaps the other wasn’t content, happy or fulfilled.  Come to think of it, it really is a statement of selfishness.  I was perfectly content to settle with things as they were but during the time when I really didn’t want to acknowledge anyone else or consider their part in this ‘shared experience’ someone else wasn’t any of the things they thought they were going to be by this point in their life.  So that must be the gist of the phrase ‘out of the blue.’