Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
I'm happy to chat to all that share at least some part of my ideas.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Tuesday, July 07, 2009
Forty two years ago today I made decisions very quickly almost like deciding on momentous becomings. Someone close to me had died. I got involved in making that more complex than simple loss. My whole character changed. All of my appetites changed, too - emotionally, politically and socially. For weeks I thought to deny simple things for myself and to resist complex things for others. I wanted to tie myself up in knots and I did. As a default I feared the worse in every situation. I felt it was a small price to pay for the few comforts I felt I needed. Meanwhile however I destroyed that security for others because all I saw was destruction and potential destruction. No-one I knew then is part of my life now. My family are all dead. I have no ties whatsoever.
But here I am now, better to light a candle... This brings me around to the new idea that even after over four decades I have no good answers for the many assumptions my new love wants me to have about him. I mean I learnt nothing in my past which can help me now. I don't know why but I feel that is positive and offers us a better chance. Let me just say that he has a wife and I am his wife also. The three of us live together in one relationship, in an atmosphere of mutual trust and as an experiment in another way of living and loving. Certainly I feel very loved. Certainly I feel fulfilled. In the scheme of things I am considered a little unique by others who do not understand or care to understand. We feel we are manifestations of inner needs and we tend not to question our motivations, like one would not question something which feels natural. He is our foundation, and we do not feel we are sharing him. Rather we are sharing each other mutually. No I am not bi-sexual, nor am I bi-curious. It is about the mind not the body. We work together,
against the void of illimitation.
Thursday, July 02, 2009
I seek freedoms I have no right to. I am tooled-up with electricity and explosive chemistries. As such I am given a wide berth, commended as I go to some kind of loose disaster, as an allowing, as a form of good works. Through me is the way that’s best for her. I will share nothing but her physical information. With the public, I am grateful for that means to no end. There are times when problems make one situation too much like another, and I dip my interest and freeze her out. This is imperfect and wasteful; so those are imperfect and wasteful days. Imagine that kind of variety, if you can. Because it’s important to me, I feel there’s someone else out there for my kind, who I haven't met yet. Mistakes happen when I am in that kind of mood. Snapped necks. Burning beds. Unexplained stomach bugs from wiping my ugly dick on your door handles. Oily browsings through curtain cracks. Spyglassing.
I control his finances. We decided on that shortly after we met. I might worry about those responsibilities from time to time but I suppose I might say anything here. It's more that something lets me make decisions for the both of us. That something is my opinion about the things that matter. I have better ideas. So I get to make all the real decisions. I leave him in the dark and he knows I do and he is fine with that. Ultimately it’s done because it can done. I like that feeling of inevitability. I don’t think I could ever be his doormat. I'm not into taking turns. He earns less than I do, but we both earn enough. It's more or less all mine, though. He prefers blindness, because I think he trusts me. I think it's more to do with him not trusting himself though. His obedience is like some inner childishness. I used to have a long list of things I wanted. Now I have them all. I sleep really well, knowing that tomorrow I can think what I like. Lately I've been putting female hormones in his food.
There isn't any strict logic to the reasons behind why I am about to write what I am about to write. I said my piece yesterday - or so I thought. Now, though, I feel I have to add more, in order to convey the sense of things as I originally intended. I'm pretty sure I'll only confuse the scene further, and maybe all I'm really doing is venting my anger. But, this is my right, and if that bothers you don't read me. OK ... I am stranded. Since the operation - an unnecessary one, as regular readers will know... lawsuit pending - I've been unable to even myself out. Bedtime is a nightmare. I barely breath. Time drags, and I am suffocating. It’s not the old purposelessness I'm used to, either. My health is an issue but it is not the issue. What I'm most frightened of is that I'm costing myself some kind of valuable entirety, because, in all of this, she has no use for me, except as a hesitation. I cannot think of anything but the bedroom I am no longer welcome in. I crawled, as was suggested. But it was a faint. I simply have no other duties now. It’s never been a problem before. But now it is. Any ideas? Mark