Yesterday I had to follow through...and it was the epitome of the "double-edged sword." In essence, to be true to myself I had to confront the untruths of another. Normally, I would shy away from, in fact avoid altogether, a situation of this nature, and have done so repeatedly in my past much to my detriment, however, the pain and constriction I was feeling had become prohibitive. Over the course of my life, I have taken on many roles - some positive, some really quite negative. Of late, I am making an attempt to shed, one by perilous one, the negative precepts to which I cling. In most instances this is a completely personal journey and one of Everest difficulty, but yesterday was an exception. I took responsibility for the way I felt when I was treated shabbily. Maybe I should have continued in my Christian tack of turning the other cheek, but things were beginning to fester.
My initial reaction was to feel weightless, relieved, boyant (see previous post) and that should have been that. However my old knee-jerk, self-abasement tapes start playing and I abuse myself for hurting another for my own sanity.
And so we return again in this blog to the issues of honesty and integrity. And, once again I say no martyr am I, but our primary directive as sentient beings, I believe, is to cherish each and every other human. To respect him, to treat him with humanity and to be non-judgemental, and to offer our very best. This is the ideal.
So much for soap-boxing...let's move on to some comedy-jokes.......
7.31.2004
7.30.2004
Phew..............
Resolving festering feelings is like breathing again. Claiming oneself is euphoric. Moving forward makes me giddy.
I float...
I float...
Last Night...
I sailed terrifying seas with Nazis, sipped Pat O'Brien's Strawberry Daquiris with old chums, experienced an exhilirating ride in an anti-gravity lift, and decided to dance again.
What dreams... may come...
What dreams... may come...
7.29.2004
Realizations and Epiphanies
Today, of all Thursdays, I found insight. It was always there, lurking behind my mind's scary dark door, but there nonetheless. And, not only was there insight, it was coupled with action. I dare say that insight, epiphany, realization is satisfying in itself, but much more fulfilling when coupled with the corollary and appropriate action.
True to my nature and the nature I am trying to nurture, some of these "new beginnings" I will pursue like a pit-bull, others, the less important and efficacious, will wither with the season.
True to my nature and the nature I am trying to nurture, some of these "new beginnings" I will pursue like a pit-bull, others, the less important and efficacious, will wither with the season.
7.28.2004
Hi! I'm a GOOBER, ... Wanna Dance?
UH, OK, everyone... Link-y no work-y, but now I fix-y, I think-y. Feedback-y, Por Favor. (Try the slideshow...)
Love, Ur Favorite Cyber Goober
P.S. Sincere apologies to "Anonymous"
Love, Ur Favorite Cyber Goober
P.S. Sincere apologies to "Anonymous"
New Toy....YeeHaw!
I gotta new toy...WooHoooooooooooo! Am still working out the details but perhaps I can elucidate thru some crude attempts here...
7.27.2004
I like Grapes...
Hmmmm...I really like grapes.... Aw, crud, I forgot to get those tomatoes from Mom's house.... Shark week has started off kinda sucky this time.... I wonder hong long I could go without laundering underwear?... Boy, "J" loves crickets....Slut Bunwhalah!...Ok, I can give up bread but NEVER cheese....Look at my dragon....Yippe is sooooooo sweet....My darling babies here....I love you/A bushel and a peck....What should I write in my blog tomorrow? Everything has been so dour lately....Will I have to explain "dour?"....ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzz
7.26.2004
What to scribe.... I had so many ideas, thoughts, and generally random frenetic synaptic excursions. So let's address a few:
A: Dad
I've thought often about my Dad this week. Much of it to do with our slowly developing relationship that has been stranded for so long on the shores of misperception (at least on my part). Mostly I mourn the wasted years of silent recrimmination, the inhibition due to fear and guilt, and just plain laziness.
B: The "J" Report, Fifth Element
We've moved up to solid, wiggly food and supplement with chunky Stage 3 pabulum. Poops are looking firm and "J" is moving beyond immediate alimentary evacuation to some nutrient retention. And, on review, I revise our big "D" Day. Evidently, "J" was much younger when he came to me than I originally surmised. Or perhaps his maturing is retarded by having a mother with opposable thumbs who jumps and jives to his merest gurgle.
In all actuality, it is quite useless to speculate as to the hour and minute of his maturation. As an exercise in zen, I will live in "J"s moment and rejoice in his minutae.
Almost forgot, this morning as I lay snoodled up in my beddy-by, "J" perched smartly on the silk tapestry above me, cloaca aimed expertly at my face, he suddenly launched and smacked smartly into the revolving ceiling fan. He was flung into the wall, slid down and shook himself, took a few wobbly steps and then was rescued by Mom. He suffered not greatly, but I must be more vigilant.
A: Dad
I've thought often about my Dad this week. Much of it to do with our slowly developing relationship that has been stranded for so long on the shores of misperception (at least on my part). Mostly I mourn the wasted years of silent recrimmination, the inhibition due to fear and guilt, and just plain laziness.
B: The "J" Report, Fifth Element
We've moved up to solid, wiggly food and supplement with chunky Stage 3 pabulum. Poops are looking firm and "J" is moving beyond immediate alimentary evacuation to some nutrient retention. And, on review, I revise our big "D" Day. Evidently, "J" was much younger when he came to me than I originally surmised. Or perhaps his maturing is retarded by having a mother with opposable thumbs who jumps and jives to his merest gurgle.
In all actuality, it is quite useless to speculate as to the hour and minute of his maturation. As an exercise in zen, I will live in "J"s moment and rejoice in his minutae.
Almost forgot, this morning as I lay snoodled up in my beddy-by, "J" perched smartly on the silk tapestry above me, cloaca aimed expertly at my face, he suddenly launched and smacked smartly into the revolving ceiling fan. He was flung into the wall, slid down and shook himself, took a few wobbly steps and then was rescued by Mom. He suffered not greatly, but I must be more vigilant.
Addendum: "J" has begun to eat on his own with a few pointers from Mom. He has discovered the joy of cheese and crickets, and still shows a predilection to be near me when not exploring the surrounds. Also, he has discovered his water bowl and the marvels of the aquatic realm, not to mention enjoying a tepid shower with Mom on occassion (pictures on request...heehee).
7.21.2004
The "J" Report, Episode Quatre
We near the big day for "J". He grows at a mystical rate yet still clings to his infant behavior. As we appraoch his "Day of Decision," I begin to hope that he will stay knowing that he will most likely leave. This seems to be a recurring theme in my life and perhaps on this small scale it is a lesson to inspect. My role seems to be one of nurturer, giving to those in need and denying my own desires until at last I have given all that I can. No, no...I am not a martyr. Trust me when I say that I am broken, and disillusioned each time that this process concludes and renews. Perhaps I should embrace this aspect of myself. Submit to my natural instinct and let my soul be nourished by that which I have tried to negate and struggle against for Lo! these long years.
Possibly, it is "J" that has come into my life to help me realize these grand life lessons.
Possibly, it is "J" that has come into my life to help me realize these grand life lessons.
7.20.2004
Padded Walls
This morning brings panic. Not only were my dreams extremely violent, but I arose with a constricted heart, a spinning head and all of the "shouldas" whirling ceaselessly through my psyche.
Who am I?
Where am I going?
Why am I so fearful?
This will pass, but in the midst of it I feel helpless...swirling, spinning tornadicly, and moving through the banal motions of a wasted life.
India be with me...
Who am I?
Where am I going?
Why am I so fearful?
This will pass, but in the midst of it I feel helpless...swirling, spinning tornadicly, and moving through the banal motions of a wasted life.
India be with me...
7.19.2004
Immortals; Gods on Earth
Like witnessing the inexorable rise of the Sun, the unfolding petals of the first flower of Spring, or the jeweled strands of a web in morning dew, awe and amazement are too tame to describe my open-mouthed gaping wonder as I watch Armstrong pump almost lazily through mountains, torturous turns, and deathly descents.
Working to win his 6th consecutive Tour de France, Armstrong appears to possess super-human, -natural abilities. Although we must surely recognize that he is all too human vis a vis his marital diffculties that have been so widely publicized. Nevertheless, this transcendence of pain, of wordly limitation must surely be a gift of the gods, a sign of his chosen status.
Working to win his 6th consecutive Tour de France, Armstrong appears to possess super-human, -natural abilities. Although we must surely recognize that he is all too human vis a vis his marital diffculties that have been so widely publicized. Nevertheless, this transcendence of pain, of wordly limitation must surely be a gift of the gods, a sign of his chosen status.
Hmm... how the gifted suffer...
7.18.2004
The "J" Report, Episode Tres
My Goodness! Look at him grow. "J" is now toddling about fairly well and the only sensations to report are his continued progress towards adulthood and our maturing bond. "J" seems to have a preference to be with me at all times. Put in his own space, he quickly works his way over to me or in my general vicinty. He is communicating more, becoming more verbal, and I have been told that he will eventually, if he stays, pick up some words. I expect he will be ready to make some big decisions in the coming 10 days. I will give him free reign to choose as he pleases and will be proud of wherever he chooses to reside.
His capacity for food is prodigious and we have gone through a 4oz jar of 'Vegetable Chicken Dinner' in a little under 48 hours. He is taking more interest in his surroundings and even beginning to show interest in feeding himself - this a new development for today. I am trying to encourage him by leaving foodstuffs where he can easily reach them. However, he still is unsure and asks for feeding regularly and often (even as I type this). Additionally, I can't say that I will be too sad when he moves on to feeding himself, although I feel sure that hand feeding will continue for several more days.
He is socializing well and accepts strangers with only minor trepidation. My Grandfather suggests that I mimic his parents behavior, yet I think he will instinctually learn to behave correctly. Of course, all of this is moot if he decides to stay.
"J" is now resting comfortably near me and he is, at least, a lovely companion who would never lie or hurt me intentionally. Now that's something!
His capacity for food is prodigious and we have gone through a 4oz jar of 'Vegetable Chicken Dinner' in a little under 48 hours. He is taking more interest in his surroundings and even beginning to show interest in feeding himself - this a new development for today. I am trying to encourage him by leaving foodstuffs where he can easily reach them. However, he still is unsure and asks for feeding regularly and often (even as I type this). Additionally, I can't say that I will be too sad when he moves on to feeding himself, although I feel sure that hand feeding will continue for several more days.
He is socializing well and accepts strangers with only minor trepidation. My Grandfather suggests that I mimic his parents behavior, yet I think he will instinctually learn to behave correctly. Of course, all of this is moot if he decides to stay.
"J" is now resting comfortably near me and he is, at least, a lovely companion who would never lie or hurt me intentionally. Now that's something!
7.17.2004
The "Lying" Game
Dictionary.com partially defines "lie" as "an intentional violation of truth" and I suspect that if you were to ask me at this very moment my definition of "lie" it would include some vituperatives. However, not willing to risk injuring my karma, I refrain from aforementioned. Nevertheless, I wonder at this thing called "karma" and exactly when I reap the rewards of taking moral high ground on a regular basis? A recent rash of deceptions, injustices, and blatant ethical/moral disobedience leaves me desirous of leaping from my karmic wheel. Except for the occasion when my Mother so lovingly informed me that I couldn't help my emotions because I was "pre-menopausal," I have not been this upset in a while. (And these are really two different species of upset.) On the phone with a friend this morning, I spewed forth my rage, my willingness to abandon the "Duddley Do-Right Bandwagon" that I am on and open up a huge, Texas-sized can of "Whoop-Ass" and let it fountain unhindered over all who come into its path, regardless of innocence, deviousness or stupidity. Unfortunately, I am prevented from this vicious action by that same impluse that drives me to forgive. Drives me to love unconditionally, to say "Thank You," to nurture, to introspect and to strive for oneness.
I practice patience... OHM...
7.15.2004
The "J" Report, Episode Two
Following the advice of my inner counselor, I cruised immediately to my nearest Alblurtson's and procured the finest infant foods made by man. A grand selection was presented and for "J"s nutrition I selected 'Chicken & Chicken Gravy,' 'Mixed Vegetables' and 'Apples & Blueberries.' I felt these puréed delicacies fit nicely with the information gleaned from the Internet regarding what "J"s diet should include.
Pulling 'G's as I drove home, I know I must have returned at least 10 seconds earlier than if I had obeyed all traffic signs. My Lord, this was an emergency of the grandest proportions. Had I been stopped by Mr. Law, I would have tearfully recounted the traumatic event and most probably would have been provided with a personal escort home, lights and sirens ablaze.
Shucking plastic bags and child proof lids as I sprinted into the house, I was suddenly flummoxed as to how I would dispense this thick goo. I'll try a spoon. Big end won't work. Ah...the spade-like narrow handle will do just the trick. By this time, "J" seemed fairly dehydrated, still breathing heavily and quite tucked up. He didn't even respond to my coo's, trills, or murmurs of encouragement. I waved the spoon handle loaded with smooth chicken paste enticingly in front of "J"s nose but he refused to acknowledge my efforts. OK, time for some tough dietary measures. I prised his wee mouth open and forced minute quantities of slime into his mouth. After a few seconds he dutifully swallowed but was not interested in more. I continued the food torture until I felt "J" had had enough to last him through the long night.
This morning I woke to old "J" again. Restored, although not completely, and ready for limited action, "J" was up with the rising sun and blessing me in his infantile way. Unlike other babies I have raised, "J", being a wild-child, has much different needs. I have to adjust all schedules and preconceived notions and learn as I go. It was evident that "J" was pretty darn ravenous this morn and my plan was to feed him up for another nocturnal fast, keep him safely confined and minimize all intrusions to restore his appetite and morale.
Plan B unfolded as follows:
Check on "J". If "J" asks for food, "J" gets all he can handle. Inspect "J"s poop (it's gotten much more average sized with an increasingly pleasing color and texture completely devoid of all odor).*
Spend the next 20- 30 minutes wisely (I learned this quite quickly, actually).
Check on "J". Yep, he's definitely ready for food again.
And so on throughout the day. "J" became positively Olympic as we ate. He gained strength from the nourishing pap and found the energy to inspect himself and make adjustments where necessary. He visited with friends and family, wary the whole while. He even sat with me for a space, a comfortable companionship marked by silent communion and gentle nuzzlings from "J"s little gourd.
I deem the plan and "J" a success today. Tonight is anticipated on pins and needles to see if he sleeps the sleep of the innocent. Tomorrow will bring new adventures for "J" and myself as we embark on more planning and scheduling.
Am being called by "J"...off to the feeding mill.
NOTE*: An amazing synchronicty is observed in regard to the food going into "J"s mouth and the subsequent, immediate evacuation of "J"s bowels. Extraordinary...I even know some people like this.
Pulling 'G's as I drove home, I know I must have returned at least 10 seconds earlier than if I had obeyed all traffic signs. My Lord, this was an emergency of the grandest proportions. Had I been stopped by Mr. Law, I would have tearfully recounted the traumatic event and most probably would have been provided with a personal escort home, lights and sirens ablaze.
Shucking plastic bags and child proof lids as I sprinted into the house, I was suddenly flummoxed as to how I would dispense this thick goo. I'll try a spoon. Big end won't work. Ah...the spade-like narrow handle will do just the trick. By this time, "J" seemed fairly dehydrated, still breathing heavily and quite tucked up. He didn't even respond to my coo's, trills, or murmurs of encouragement. I waved the spoon handle loaded with smooth chicken paste enticingly in front of "J"s nose but he refused to acknowledge my efforts. OK, time for some tough dietary measures. I prised his wee mouth open and forced minute quantities of slime into his mouth. After a few seconds he dutifully swallowed but was not interested in more. I continued the food torture until I felt "J" had had enough to last him through the long night.
This morning I woke to old "J" again. Restored, although not completely, and ready for limited action, "J" was up with the rising sun and blessing me in his infantile way. Unlike other babies I have raised, "J", being a wild-child, has much different needs. I have to adjust all schedules and preconceived notions and learn as I go. It was evident that "J" was pretty darn ravenous this morn and my plan was to feed him up for another nocturnal fast, keep him safely confined and minimize all intrusions to restore his appetite and morale.
Plan B unfolded as follows:
Check on "J". If "J" asks for food, "J" gets all he can handle. Inspect "J"s poop (it's gotten much more average sized with an increasingly pleasing color and texture completely devoid of all odor).*
Spend the next 20- 30 minutes wisely (I learned this quite quickly, actually).
Check on "J". Yep, he's definitely ready for food again.
And so on throughout the day. "J" became positively Olympic as we ate. He gained strength from the nourishing pap and found the energy to inspect himself and make adjustments where necessary. He visited with friends and family, wary the whole while. He even sat with me for a space, a comfortable companionship marked by silent communion and gentle nuzzlings from "J"s little gourd.
I deem the plan and "J" a success today. Tonight is anticipated on pins and needles to see if he sleeps the sleep of the innocent. Tomorrow will bring new adventures for "J" and myself as we embark on more planning and scheduling.
Am being called by "J"...off to the feeding mill.
NOTE*: An amazing synchronicty is observed in regard to the food going into "J"s mouth and the subsequent, immediate evacuation of "J"s bowels. Extraordinary...I even know some people like this.
7.14.2004
The "J" Report, Episode 1
"Would you like a new 'project?'" Mom queried craftily.
"What? I can't hear you!" I retorted knowing full well that I was just one very fine frog's hair from being suckered into another maternal scheme.
"Don't you want a new, little project (imagine big, wide Bambi eyes here)?" as she turned to me with her hand cupped concealingly about her waist.
"What is it?" I sighed.
And there he was, "J",...shocked, abandoned, staring wild-eyed. Yep, this little guy could have been no luckier than when he inadvertantly landed in our domain.
So, I carried my new charge home. We nestled him in, fed him up, stroked his shocky wee pate and pledged to do our best.
Morning found "J" plump, comfy and ready for some sustenance which I willingly and with some effort provided. "J" sat drooling parts of his breakfast onto me, making baby sounds of comfort and delight. As I watched him, those familiar maternal feelings washed through me and I felt truly content. He jumped and jived for a moment finding his feet and then gave a little waggle that made me snort, and then that waggle turned insistent, intense even, and out from "J"'s bottom came the biggest fecal extrusion I have seen come from such a small orifice in quite some time. " J," I exclaimed, "that was as big as your own head....YEOUCH!" Well, when you can watch an orphan perform a feat like that, you just have to love him.
I left "J" snuggled up, sated and rectally devoid knowing he would be safe at my house while I accomplished my tasks for the day. Several hours later I returned to find no "J" where he should be, where I left him. My heart skipped and dervished. Crap, where is "J"? I hope the dogs have acted with courtesy about "J" escaping. And so my search began for the missing "J". Directly, I found him scrunched up in the middle of the Pakistani rug in the living room, seemingly unharmed but fazed.
I returned him to his familiar surroundings and tried to get some food into him all the while reassuring him, but he was quite distraught. He refused my nourishing offerings and was laboring for breath. I became concerned. Before I went all panicky and frothy, I took some deep breaths and counseled my inner voice. In those few brief therapeutic moments, my internal guide answered and I knew it was the right thing.
To Be Continued...
"What? I can't hear you!" I retorted knowing full well that I was just one very fine frog's hair from being suckered into another maternal scheme.
"Don't you want a new, little project (imagine big, wide Bambi eyes here)?" as she turned to me with her hand cupped concealingly about her waist.
"What is it?" I sighed.
And there he was, "J",...shocked, abandoned, staring wild-eyed. Yep, this little guy could have been no luckier than when he inadvertantly landed in our domain.
So, I carried my new charge home. We nestled him in, fed him up, stroked his shocky wee pate and pledged to do our best.
Morning found "J" plump, comfy and ready for some sustenance which I willingly and with some effort provided. "J" sat drooling parts of his breakfast onto me, making baby sounds of comfort and delight. As I watched him, those familiar maternal feelings washed through me and I felt truly content. He jumped and jived for a moment finding his feet and then gave a little waggle that made me snort, and then that waggle turned insistent, intense even, and out from "J"'s bottom came the biggest fecal extrusion I have seen come from such a small orifice in quite some time. " J," I exclaimed, "that was as big as your own head....YEOUCH!" Well, when you can watch an orphan perform a feat like that, you just have to love him.
I left "J" snuggled up, sated and rectally devoid knowing he would be safe at my house while I accomplished my tasks for the day. Several hours later I returned to find no "J" where he should be, where I left him. My heart skipped and dervished. Crap, where is "J"? I hope the dogs have acted with courtesy about "J" escaping. And so my search began for the missing "J". Directly, I found him scrunched up in the middle of the Pakistani rug in the living room, seemingly unharmed but fazed.
I returned him to his familiar surroundings and tried to get some food into him all the while reassuring him, but he was quite distraught. He refused my nourishing offerings and was laboring for breath. I became concerned. Before I went all panicky and frothy, I took some deep breaths and counseled my inner voice. In those few brief therapeutic moments, my internal guide answered and I knew it was the right thing.
To Be Continued...
7.13.2004
More Unfinished
fire...the igniting passion
water...the supple nurturer
air...the sustaining breath
earth...the fecund mother
----------------------------------
desire pulls it's caressing syllables across
my skin, wanting some further
explanation or denoument. Help
me! Help me explore the dishes of
the new-found desire to write.
I was there. I was languishing in the moment.
YOU can't deny me that.
----------------------------------
Joy - painful, exquisite joy!
My life's ambrosia
Set to 4 patter.
Joy - precious, ethereal joy!
water...the supple nurturer
air...the sustaining breath
earth...the fecund mother
----------------------------------
desire pulls it's caressing syllables across
my skin, wanting some further
explanation or denoument. Help
me! Help me explore the dishes of
the new-found desire to write.
I was there. I was languishing in the moment.
YOU can't deny me that.
----------------------------------
Joy - painful, exquisite joy!
My life's ambrosia
Set to 4 patter.
Joy - precious, ethereal joy!
7.10.2004
An In-Depth Questionnaire Assessing the Personality Characteristics of Either Gender**
1. What is your birthday?
2. How do you feel about tomatoes?
3. Morning person or night person or just person?
4. Country or City or Private Island?
5. How many of you are there?
6. Is there a god, with a big "G?"
7. How many centimeters in an pound?
8. Sweet or Sour?
9. Have you ever been in love?
10. When would you scr........
** This profile provided courtesy of Cranston Snord's little known treatise, "Fred's Complete Guide to Psychoanalysis." Apparently Herr Señor Snord, called "Windy" by his closest enemies, suffered from short term memory loss and while constructing this questionnaire, was suddenly struck by the need to can some berries. He then submitted his creation to a small, and now defunct, publishing company specializing in one-page scientific inquiries. Much to Cranston's surprise, his writings were published but only in Africa in the 'click' dialect. This recently discovered handbook is now being applied by the most sophisticated psychologists, psychiatrists, and Miss Cleo, as a valuable adjunct in their professions.
Additionally, an oft misquoted appendix which does not appear in Mrs. Snord's book is the Gorge of Eternal Peril's Bridge Keeper's three question riddle to questers. The original questions in the appendix have been lost to the scientific community due to Cranston's fetish for things no longer than a page. Perhaps the mythical appendix was meant as a completely distinct and separate half-page publication.....We may never know.
Cheerfully submitted by the "Committee for Extended Rights for Axe Handles"
2. How do you feel about tomatoes?
3. Morning person or night person or just person?
4. Country or City or Private Island?
5. How many of you are there?
6. Is there a god, with a big "G?"
7. How many centimeters in an pound?
8. Sweet or Sour?
9. Have you ever been in love?
10. When would you scr........
** This profile provided courtesy of Cranston Snord's little known treatise, "Fred's Complete Guide to Psychoanalysis." Apparently Herr Señor Snord, called "Windy" by his closest enemies, suffered from short term memory loss and while constructing this questionnaire, was suddenly struck by the need to can some berries. He then submitted his creation to a small, and now defunct, publishing company specializing in one-page scientific inquiries. Much to Cranston's surprise, his writings were published but only in Africa in the 'click' dialect. This recently discovered handbook is now being applied by the most sophisticated psychologists, psychiatrists, and Miss Cleo, as a valuable adjunct in their professions.
Additionally, an oft misquoted appendix which does not appear in Mrs. Snord's book is the Gorge of Eternal Peril's Bridge Keeper's three question riddle to questers. The original questions in the appendix have been lost to the scientific community due to Cranston's fetish for things no longer than a page. Perhaps the mythical appendix was meant as a completely distinct and separate half-page publication.....We may never know.
Cheerfully submitted by the "Committee for Extended Rights for Axe Handles"
Unfinished
If one were to
Think...
just Think.
Contemplate, Cogitate,
Masticate...
a Thought.
Turn It, Twist It,
Circulate...
these Emotions.
Think...
just Think.
Contemplate, Cogitate,
Masticate...
a Thought.
Turn It, Twist It,
Circulate...
these Emotions.
7.09.2004
7.08.2004
Sleep. Sleep....
Sleeping way too much. Dreaming bizarre things. Could it be the drugs? Feeling caught between this waking world and the unconscious realm. Drifting. Heavy. Slowly....
7.05.2004
Offer Expires - June 30, Midnight
Well, Sports Fans, on June 30 at midnight I withdrew my personal ad ending a 3 year process that has yielded confused results. Initially an experiment from a foreign country into the realms of cyber-socializing that evolved into a myriad of chats, dates, and interactions - that particular monkey can now ride on someone else's back.
What I gained from this experience was disillusionment, punctuated moments of spurious joy, copious amounts of criticism, a refined sense of self, tidbits of sheer delight and a couple of friends. However, most importantly, I came to realize that there can never be a substitute for seeing someone across a crowded room; for the palpitating intrigue of chance meeting; or for the comfort of a best friend over a game of Scrabble.
The cyber-dating world is for the faint-of-heart and for the insecure. An outlet for fantasy and self re-invention. I leave it gladly and know that my search for intimacy will be much better served out there in that wide world of reality no matter how harsh it may be.
Good Luck to all of you who are still searching!
What I gained from this experience was disillusionment, punctuated moments of spurious joy, copious amounts of criticism, a refined sense of self, tidbits of sheer delight and a couple of friends. However, most importantly, I came to realize that there can never be a substitute for seeing someone across a crowded room; for the palpitating intrigue of chance meeting; or for the comfort of a best friend over a game of Scrabble.
The cyber-dating world is for the faint-of-heart and for the insecure. An outlet for fantasy and self re-invention. I leave it gladly and know that my search for intimacy will be much better served out there in that wide world of reality no matter how harsh it may be.
Good Luck to all of you who are still searching!
7.02.2004
7.01.2004
#3.14
As you near the end of a trying workday, you realize that you just have time to get to the library for some research that you have been putting off for ages. You zip over to your local branch, dash in and ask the desk librarian, a plain looking girl with glasses and mousy hair, if she can direct you to the rack containing information on animal slayings. She directs you with a slender pencil laden hand and a quiet courteous nod. As you turn to follow her directions, you smell the scent of old paper, tea roses and fresh skin. You glance back, but your shy librarian has already retreated behind her monitor.
As you browse through the stacks, you reflect on your recent encounter with the associate. It is getting near closing time and you realize that everyone is gone. You head over to the copy machine to Xerox some choice tidbits, and passing close to the office you notice your little reading rabbit getting ready to depart for the night. She has taken off her glasses in order to rearrange her hair, which previously you thought mousy, now tumbles down her back in soft waves. Her bulky cardigan is hanging on a rack and you can now see her plump bosom hidden beneath her demure lace collar, a delightful decolletage.
You watch as she deftly weaves and pulls her hair into a loose braid, her arms raised high above her head, sleeves ruched back exposing her milky white forearms. Her slim waist, delineated by her severe black skirt, aches to be encircled by your hands. Suddenly you realize that you are pulsing for her..this unknown girl-woman. Leaving your books on the nearest table you approach the office, the electrical smell of computers and the musty scent of old catalog cards growing stronger as you enter. You startle your timid prey and she jumps from her chair. Coming much too close you back her to her desk, her eyes wild with confusion. You gently stroke her cheek feeling the hot flush of her skin and you whisper, "I'll be back for more research..."
As you browse through the stacks, you reflect on your recent encounter with the associate. It is getting near closing time and you realize that everyone is gone. You head over to the copy machine to Xerox some choice tidbits, and passing close to the office you notice your little reading rabbit getting ready to depart for the night. She has taken off her glasses in order to rearrange her hair, which previously you thought mousy, now tumbles down her back in soft waves. Her bulky cardigan is hanging on a rack and you can now see her plump bosom hidden beneath her demure lace collar, a delightful decolletage.
You watch as she deftly weaves and pulls her hair into a loose braid, her arms raised high above her head, sleeves ruched back exposing her milky white forearms. Her slim waist, delineated by her severe black skirt, aches to be encircled by your hands. Suddenly you realize that you are pulsing for her..this unknown girl-woman. Leaving your books on the nearest table you approach the office, the electrical smell of computers and the musty scent of old catalog cards growing stronger as you enter. You startle your timid prey and she jumps from her chair. Coming much too close you back her to her desk, her eyes wild with confusion. You gently stroke her cheek feeling the hot flush of her skin and you whisper, "I'll be back for more research..."
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