2-26-06
Lying in bed is such a nice treat. I think I stayed there a little longer than I would have liked but then again. I was daydreaming and touching myself.
The Pudendal nerve is the nerve of the clit. If... well if you were a woman you could put a little pressure on the left lip and stimulate the nerve. You press down towards the bone a little. It's nice putting pressure there, holding it. I think in men the nerve is not as easy to directly stimulate. I looked it up once, dissected it, analyzed it. Now it's back in perspective. It's a nice spot to touch. It doesn't demand direct attention nor discourage it when over stimulated. So I laid there for a while touching myself. Lolling around from neither here nor there letting my mind wonder where it may. I thought about the cocoa butter....and my fantasy life. I asked him to come over to the side of the bed. His cock was looking just so...plump but not completely erect. I wanted him to want to shove it in my mouth. "Put it in my mouth." He moves a foot closer. 'Close enough'. I take it in my mouth with hope. With desire. Maybe it was just expectations. I looked up ......... I was expecting help...I thought he would be putting it in my mouth. Helping, pushing it down. He was stretching, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
I don't care being the fool...it's the stupidity I dread.
The insanity of expecting/hoping for something diffferent when I know it's not going to happen. Even something so small. So small, it's always the little things.
The insanity is controllable, the stupidity is just soo mindlessly hopeful.
despite all good advise I do yoga, not just stretching, but like the freaky pretzel ashtanga yoga, in front of the tv....bad tv...Inked...2 episodes. PBS had Nature on so I did more yoga...to Big Wave Surfers. Damn those old guys are hot, riding those huge waves oye vay....then I did more yoga to Alton Brown "Good Eats" show....he's hot too. I decidedly want to have Alton's babies....so long as he does all the cooking. Despite all good yogic advice I got hot while doing yoga. Bad Form.
I ate vicariously the last three days from the TV. I'd rather eat fried chicken on the TV than actually put that in my mouth. I got more pleasure watching other people eat. Eating is over rated.
I cleaned the bathroom naked today....well I had my flip flops on. So I guess I wasn't "naked" per say.
The fireworks were kinda boring.
And....I drank one of those malted beverages....with caffeine tonight....maybe I should not drink those anymore.
*hiccup
;-)
Quote:
Originally Posted by ObiJohnKenobi
i'm intrigued.
little to leave behind. i am a shell of man today.
...
I am glad.
I am glad it's done.
I am glad she won't be pacing around my house.
Glad she won't be clomping around at 3 am with those goddamned doc martin sandals.
Glad I don't have to put up with her incessant chain smoking, her constant stream of gibberish, paranoid delusions. Talking to the television.
Glad I don't have to run off to the store and buy her cigarrettes because she chainsmoked two packs overnight and is threatening to leave.
Glad we did it.
I am pissed he was happy I came home with out her.
Pissed blue he had no words to console me.
Words only to express that everything would be easier.
Easier for him.
Glad I can have my "bat cave" back.
Glad I can sleep on my own a few nights a week.
Glad you gave me inspiration for a little piece of my own.
Glad (was) to have a break from even you.
Will be glad to see you back there.
I want to be angry at someone.
I want it be someones fault.
I want to blame it on someone.
I want to find a center to this anger.
I want to find a place to put this,
the anger, the unknown,
her, my lost friend.
My Schizoid.
I've become reckless...
taking risks,
driving too fast.
Considered mindless sex,
with real strangers,
in his office.
Bleeding out,
in all the wrong places,
here.
The mind bent under pressure,
desensitized,
forced obfusification.
Fuck All....
Fuck the guilt I feel for being glad.
Fuck the sadness I feel...I am so goddamned numb I feel like this mental ebola is like juicing a fucking rock.
My best friend hates me for dumping her at the mental hospital, my SO is irritating me and I miss my distractions...
The hole in my heart,
masked by distraction,
beautiful/visceral/necessary.
I tried to tear away my talisman.
Om mani and her azul lotus,
itches around my neck,
chokes me,
like the noose that it is,
reminds me now
not of my compassionate nature,
but of my intolerance,
my ugly inside,
anger.
The band of blue,
sits...broken,
waiting repair,
my helplessness,
weakness.
I long to touch my neck;
caress,
with my own hand
unobstructed,
feel with no other.
It can not be removed.
There, some force binds it.
Somedays bluer,
locks, I streak
others sapphire kohl lined eyes.
Thinking,
today,
the noose comes off,
free.
Am I?
My bit of blue,
I am adorned,
vowed to don
until I know you again.
I fear not their eyes.
I fear I'll forget my blue,
my vow, too, you.
And, for, you a wHOLE of my heart, blue.
...........................
Written for my best friend...Lost to schizophrenia
