Monday, 17 February 2014

The Table's Fifth Leg

I read something today that made me feel quite guilty for just upping and leaving the blogosphere, the same place where even though you know my face and the bit you do see is covered somehow we connected you and I.

I hate that I have allowed life to get to me so badly that it's taken away from such a great story and dimmed the all consuming glow this love incites in me. For that I apologise profusely and beg that you find it in your heart to forgive me.

When we left off, the love had been confirmed as mutual and it was all systems go...well sort of....The man returned and we broke with the tradition of bonking each other's brains out at first opportunity and went to have a civilised meal where we just gazed into each others faces and drowned in one another's eyes. I love this man and this man loves me. Despite everything we had been through with each other, he saw all my faults, failings and stretch marked abdomen and loved me anyway.

He saw me at the level I saw myself which made it easier for me to accept him into my space (*Ts &Cs apply). We talkd forever and I had my feet nestled on the warm hard bulge on his lap as he stroked and massaged them under the table. I had eaten my fill and now needed to fill other...


yeah...the kittykat.

So as we sat in the lull of an almost empty lounge with our fingertips touching lightly and breathy responses emanated in starts and stops from areas other than my mouth I could feel his energy. I could feel him moving in me without any erotic move made, no suggestion of rough,animal push me to the wall coitus -nada!

I was yearning for Nemesis so badly. I was afraid standing up and trying to maintain balance would give me away as I squeezed my thighs together trying to waddle and clench my way to the ladie's room for a quick stroke. He was no better because he was literally giving the table a fifth and unnecessary leg.

Both of us were in deep physical pain from being in a place so public, trying to act like there hadnt been an ocean between us a day before. He made a play at some excessive yawning and untucked his shirt to try and hide his seemed to work, he made it to the loo ok. Crisis arose while he was trying to aim at the urinal and almost sprayed his bladder on the ceiling. Tisk tisk -Cocky bastard sends me a message from the bathroom saying I was in for it tonight,never has he had to almost sleep on the urinal trying to direct things the right way, what was I doing to him. I just laughed and said he was only permitted to give himself one shake... anything more than that would be considered masturbation and I wasn't about to accept a watered down performance that night due to him partially emptying the tank. To that he retorted that I had been in the loo for a good 8 minutes earlier how did he know I wasn't reducing my tensions as he sat waiting for me.

Ok ok fine I had been caught out but had I not done that the diners staff and management could have had themselves an eye and earful after I carefully strung napkins together, tied him to the tablelegs, jumped on top of him and fed my hunger the way I really needed to. I would have probably landed both of us in jail as well.  Exactly 6mins and 34 seconds after heading to the loo he came out breathing hard and looking like a hot and feverish rabid canine he hurriedly paid the bill and probably tipped more than the total cost of the bill as he grabbed my elbow and literally pushed my goosebumped body out of that place:

we ran, squealed and giggled like teenagers getting to his car..first it  was his hand on my thigh aaandd it slid down...deeper...deeper  as   he sped home  I sssped to heaven with   his  shaft firmly  gripped  in my hand...needless to say, that poor car saw things

Monday, 3 February 2014

Life Happens


I am not fine.

The past few days and weeks have been SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Personal trials, professional tests, parenting issues- EVERYTHING.

I am not going to keep pretending I am ok it’s not profiting me in any way. I cry at the sight of leaves falling, small things and big things too. I have mentioned before that I may or may not be depressed I don’t think I could deal with an actual diagnosis and quite frankly one doesn’t need an educated professional in a white trench-coat , a couch and an office full of fake flowers to know that self-diagnosis and Dr. Google are the key to all life’s ugly mysteries.

Things overtake and swallow me sometimes and I can only focus on a small spectrum of things. 

It’s survival mode; 

  • ·        5am Wake
  • ·        Pray
  • ·        Bath
  • ·        Coffee
  • ·        Work
  • ·        Pray
  • ·        More coffee
  • ·        3l of water a day and try to remember to eat
  • ·        Work
  • ·        Go home
  • ·        Pray
  • ·        Do homework
  • ·        Do a quality activity with my child
  • ·        Make supper
  • ·        Eat
  • ·        Bath
  • ·        Pray
  • ·        Surrender to Insomnia peppered with exhaustion
  • ·        Try to read ANYTHING
  • ·        3am (if I’m lucky) knock out

(Watermark yourself some Nemesis throughout all the activities on a daily and note that all the praying may be likened to a mad woman walking around muttering to herself, maybe I do actually talk to myself and no one hears me)

But this is life, you cruise on auto pilot -everything becoming a knee-jerk action that bears no meaning and is as mundane as it is necessary. Nothing seems to change and nothing you seem to try to do changes anything. The things you love doing do not incite any feelings of joy or accomplishment. Everyone is just so used to seeing you being so strong and holding your head up high when you feel like you are going to spontaneously combust the next time anyone dares say hi and how are you. Plenty of times I have had someone as that and find myself snorting back, do you want the truth or would you just like a generic make-you-feel-like-you’ve-done-humanity-a-favour-by-asking-gratuitous-type-answer? I wish someone…anyone would actually give a damn. I believe I am becoming quite dehydrated from all the crying. What is saddening too is this whole adage about a trouble shared being a trouble halved. 

Ain’t nobody about that crap! Just cut it

I have a simple policy, no need to trouble anyone with my troubles if there isn’t a damn thing they can do about it. No need having a whole battalion of people joining in the sleeplessness I shoulder daily as if it will help me with my quotas. 

Equally depressing is the fact that through all this I long so badly for the one person who knows everything to be more…I don’t know what more I expect or want him to see that I need him to be. I am all talked out and there is nothing I can see that can silver-line these clouds, they have deep ominous forbidding shadows and only the eerie piercing beauty of a lightning bolt periodically slithers through illuminating and devastating in one fell swoop.


Just as suddenly as lightning strikes the cliff edge between ecstatic and suicidal becoming blurred in the fog of one drama unrelentlessly beating down on me just as I start to see any glimmer of hope (This Is Me) coming through the dark tinted greyness of this abyss….
What is hope anyway? Who does it belong to? What do you need to have done to deserve it. Haven’t I paid penance enough in my short lifetime to have suffered for the sins of even ancestors that walked this continent long before my time? No matter how much scripture, motivational writings and quotes I digest I see no point to it. 

Do you know why you I am here?
Why I keep going from one disaster and train-smashing into the next, almost actively seeking out things to knock me down and slowly press any joy at existing out of my stubborn life source, making my lungs gasp for air they have no joy at receiving since there is no point to anything.
Even this whole blog thing, I am too tired of life to actually put as much heart into it as I would love to. Hey…if I am not talking about Nemesis and his sexual prowess who gives a damn right? No matter. We all have problems nothing special about mine, right? Even the good loving I got this weekend is set in almost stone old pallor right now, I feel zero motivation to do anything except work…auto pilot on and Anthony Hamilton in my ears. Look for the song listen to it, put it on repeat and pretend the world actually cares

Early was the morn', flowers filled with dew
I became somebody through lovin' you
softly as a child born in natural rain
I predict the seasons to go unchanged
Sometimes in life you run across a love unknown
Without a reason it seems like you belong
Hold on dear life, don't go off runnin' from what's new
I became somebody through lovin' you
Warm was the sun that covered my body so
Reminded me of you as I'd first known
Those were the days, the days that changed my life
And made me new, I became somebody through lovin' you
Sometimes in life you run across a love unknown
Without a reason it feels like you belong
Hold on dear life, don't go off runnin' from what's new
I became somebody through lovin' you
As the sun shine down on me
I know with you and love is where I wanna be
Oh, sometime I go on through life
Thinking that love is something that's not meant for me
Woah, somebody, somebody
Hold on dear life, don't go off runnin' from what's new
I became somebody through lovin' you
I became somebody through lovin' you
Oh, I became somebody through lovin' you, oh, oh, ooh
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