Make believe land

An escape from reality is sometimes the thing you just need to do. It’s really fun though when you can have company along the way.

It can’t just be just anybody. It has to be someone who can relate. Someone who is willing to take your hand or vice versa and go on the adventure with you. 

It could be tango dancing or exploring a whole new world. It might be spelunking in a cave or just talking about some outrageous scheme.

The thing is I want to find the person but is this taking things too far? Should I create this make believe land or just resign myself to the fact that fantasy is best to be just that fantasy. I can have the ideal in my head but why is there such a drive inside to find another to share this with. Am I being selfish? Am I deluding myself? I suppose I should be satisfied with what I have yet there is this desire. 

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It’s not okay

I wish I could just smile and pretend it didn’t hurt. I wish I could just say that I am not upset by the turn of events. Sometimes people forget that there are other people on the other side of the keyboard. The internet is made of computers but there are people behind those computers breathing, crying, laughing and wanting to share.

Even gamers sometimes forget that the people they are playing with or against have feelings. They can pretend in their world of fantasy as they back stab and plot their next attack but the person they are playing against or with does have feelings.

You can say that you care but if you can’t be truthful to the person you are relating with what does that say about you? Yeah, I am not okay because I am tired of the lies. I am sick of the half-truths or the simple fact that my feelings aren’t taken into consideration.

To say that you care about some one is easy to do. To follow it up with action is another kettle of fish which can be a slippery slope which I feel that I am the fish out of water trying to breath air when I have gills that filter life giving oxygen from the water.

I can’t even speak with the person I am upset with because I am so angry that I might actually make matters worse but aren’t I making things worse by not speaking?

Even as I type this I wonder if I am being too hard but I can’t help feeling the way that I feel. Is there a dang sign on my forehead that says go ahead and shit all over me. I don’t mind. It’ll wash off me. I wonder if I do because lately, that’s all I end up feeling. I am being shat all over by people who claim to care and want to spend time with me but when push comes to shove they fall short. WAY SHORT!

I wish I was harder. I wish I had thick skin and that things didn’t upset me the way that they do because in the long run, it doesn’t matter.

When am I going to learn not to have expectations or standards. When am I going to realise that everyone doesn’t think or try to take other people’s feeling into consideration. Not every one does this, so I shouldn’t be so shocked when it occurs.

It’s not okay. I am not sure how it will ever be okay but eventually the sting will leave me. I will heal and forgive but I don’t think I am ever going to forget.

Another Sleepless Night

I’ve been crying over things. Friends who don’t stay in touch. A death of a sibling whom I felt extremely close to but something got in the way and years went by and I always thought I would get another hug. It’s not going to happen ever in this lifetime for me. 

A good cry is sometimes what is needed. I’ve been missing another someone but it’s almost like I am grieving or adrift in a rip because they just aren’t responding. I should just phone or  drop a line again. It just gets tiring always reaching out no response.

Songs keep popping into my head like Sting ‘When you love somebody’ or Sheryl Crow ‘favorite mistake’ which just makes me feel more adrift. 

Time to let go; perhaps way past time to let go but I still hold on tight in this rip I am caught in because this person reminds me of my beloved sibling whom I lost. 

Is it some demented primal game I am taunting myself with? It’s another sleepless night grappling with a situation which should be so simple to deal with but it’s complicated in my mind.

Have you missed me?

Have you missed me? Have you missed my cheeky irreverence? Have you missed my flirtation? Do you miss the conversations we’ve had? The way we discussed things so freely. The openess you said I had was so fun.

I am questioning again if what we had was real. Did I imagine the connection? I think I must have but then we touch base again. I get confirmation causing the doubt to end. It’s the silence that’s the bringer of doubt. 

Which brings me back to the question I proposed first, do you miss me? Are you glad I’m back again ready to share? 

Do you want an erotic story or poem or one of my rants? I want to know so please leave a comment!



Fuck Off

If you are looking for a rant, buddy, you just found yourself on the right blog but at the moment there is absolutely nothing erotic being written here except for the use of a hell of a lot of fucking expletives

I had experienced a very lovely afternoon with a friend of my sister’s in law. Thank goodness I left my iphone in my room because if I had it on me when the message came in, I would have blown my fucking top even worse than I have.

I now recall why I had decided to cut somebody out of my life after the message I received. I know I was in the fucking wrong but still fuck me if that stupid bitch just didn’t understand why I didn’t respond to her long message. I was in no mood to mollycoddle her and let her think she had done me a huge favor by writing to me. Now I am taking the fucking coward’s way out and fucking ranting on my blog that hardly anyone has read to just get this fucking bullshit out so I can put this bullshit to fucking bed so I can get some fucking decent sleep.

I mean I know I was there for her in the past but why does she think I need to respond to that freaking huge message she wrote to me trying to console me. I don’t feel like dwelling on it and I certainly don’t fucking feel like responding to her but I fucking caved in, was fucking diplomatic about the boo boo I had done to her by not fucking responding fucking pronto to her. I didn’t want to write back. I could care less about what the fuck she is doing. So fucking what if I want to be quiet and not reach out when she was trying to be my fucking savior. I didn’t ask for help. I didn’t say I was fucking lonely or needed any fucking condolences. I just want to fucking wallow in my own feces for as fucking long as I fucking want to. I know this is fucking self serving and selfish. SO FUCKING WHAT! IT’S MY FUCKING BLOG!

JUST FUCK OFF! Enough said? Yeah, I think so. I want to fuck nothing changes there but I certainly don’t want to be fucked by this sort of bullshit which only gives me aggravation and fucking grief. I am dealing with my own shit in my own fucking way. In no fucking way did I say I wanted her input or ask for her fucking advice which I wouldn’t follow any fucking way because she’s paranoid. When you write to someone to console them, normally you don’t write them again to ask why they didn’t respond. OMFG!

Somebody get me off this computer and give it to me good…so good I fucking forget I said to FUCK OFF!

Fucked Up Beyond All Reasoning

No one ever promised life was going to be easy but how in the world could someone be so heartless and cruel? These thoughts keeping popping in my head as I sit here trying to figure out how to help someone who is also hurting and lost without someone they love in their world. 

Losing someone you love is never easy but to know another member of the family is blatantly lashing out at someone who is low and wanting to make them pay for something they had no control over and already filled with guilt over the loss is just fucked up beyond all reasoning

In grief people do really stupid things. The truth of the situation is already fucked up beyond all reasoning. I don’t know how to express myself. I am trying to make sense of these things. I am trying to be Switzerland. I feel as if I am failing miserably on all counts. I want to be there for them both because we all have lost this person but tearing each other down isn’t what our loved one wanted. I know he would not be happy. 

Why is it wrong to kick a dog when it is already hurting and broken but to hurt someone else who is already at their lowest point ok? In what universe is that even okay. I can’t believe how fucked up beyond all reasoning this is. It’s a reality in my world. I can’t fix it. 

Yet in this fucked up situation I still have hope. The eternal optimist inside me still wants to believe that in the end everything is going to be okay.

It’s fucked up beyond all reasoning but I still believe in the end we will all be stronger.

Honey

After a month of holding back, staying quiet, being mindful of how discreet we had to be it was so good to finally have the sort of sexual encounter that literally had me feeling like honey. I am pretty sure being in our own bed had something to do with my reaction. I knew I could just let go. I could revel in the sensations you were putting me through. Your touch was like honey. You had me creating my own sort of honey too. I felt as if I were sticky but oh so sweet. When you went down on me it was as if you were a hummingbird collecting my nectar from a honeysuckle blossom.

It was as if I was honey. Every time I thought I had enough you just got me going again and again. I couldn’t get honey out of my mind. I kept chanting honey. It was as if we were feeding off of each others energy. You would give and I would take. I would give and you would take. I didn’t want the production to stop but eventually you gave in to your own honey exploding into my honey pot. 

I can’t wait for it to happen again. I anticipate our next encounter with each other when you are my honey and I am your honey. We’ll get all sticky, sweet, and indulge each others whims. Just let me know honey when you need another dip!