January 17th, 2021 8:44am pst If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning Grace-full read ( words) "1-15. After transferring and reformatting a handful of entries from this old site to the new, I am pretty well sick of moving information. My old desktop computer had two large displays, the smaller of which was used for editing. This machine is much narrower, so the older work runs off the screen. In an effort to maintain order with regard to line numbering, I must re-key each line of code for the smaller display. Tedious, to say the least. I generally can sit and transfer several before losing my way and giving up for a while. The good thing is that everything I created after seventeen or so is narrow and only needs a slight amount of attention. Very nice. Ahh... Today. Sex on the mind means I must remain busy for most of the day. I won't let myself fall off a cliff over things. That is never good and I usually realize later that I could have been fine had I just made more of an effort. There is plenty to do today. Pause. Hours later and the routine is nearly complete. I also went out into the garage and wrapped more keepsakes for storage, reorganized one of the pantry drawers and tossed some things into the recycle. So far today, so good. I am looking forward to relaxing later with the goddess and catching another couple of episodes. We watched two yesterday. The last was difficult, to say the least. The storyline is not the most pleasant to see play out sometimes. I should have a good amount of work done before our afternoon screening. Very nice. Grace. Ugh. I watched that movie all the way through (finally) and cannot seem to delete the content from my recorder. My intention is to capture stills from a few of her scenes because I have to stare without restriction. Big fucking surprise, that one. Her tenure as an actor only just began last year, meaning there is not much information available as of yet. I still do not know of her height, but if the appearance of her midsection is truly a match to the woman I know in person, she is fucking tall and the number might drive me mad. Yes, the damned height thingy is still alive and well. Grace is an example of an anomaly, too. Not good. I am certain her age has something to do with it, so caring for my words is paramount. Naturally she will end up here if I can find appropriate imagery, and then the world (what there is of it, anyway) will see the woman over whom I have been obsessing for weeks. Maybe. Stop. 1-16. Not much writing these days. Part of the big deal over this girl is the face. She appears so different from all of the others, somehow. And I don't believe I can fully articulate this. One certainty is the trouble which has been brewing in my brain since last month. Mere seconds after seeing her 'grace' the screen, I wanted to pounce, climb inside her clothing and savor every inch. Everything. And that feeling took place so quickly that my head is still spinning a bit. The other obsessions since last spring did not feel so powerful, and most faded very quickly. The woman in the black pants down south in that parking lot was probably the closest example of an appearance similar to Andrea but I did not want to jump her, I wished to hold her (like Jaime). Others came and went, and most of the time the strongest feelings were over a woman on the television screen. That meant nothing. They meant little. The desire built quickly and fell off equally fast. Lately, however, I have been noticing such needs solidifying, and if not for one aspect of life I would probably be in a bad way right now. This is twenty-one and the lateness is getting to me quite a bit more than I would have figured five years ago. Grace is just another snag, but a big one. I am full of her face right now. I wish my mouth was full of her, too. This is divisional playoff weekend. I will be heading over to watch games with the goddess in just a couple of hours. We may do a bit of prep on her bath cabinet as well. After, I will return home and get into the routine like any other day and then relax a bit, I suppose. I'll have to do my best to get this girl out of my head before attempting anything today. She has the power (which I gave her) to derail pretty much anything I may have going through my head. I keep seeing that face and her smile. And then her legs. Ugh. My brain cannot avoid descending further. Not these days. Damn. The chance sighting of this girl last month was due to my desire over seeing Bethany for a little while in the Christmas movie. I also saw difficulty, but watching alone meant I had control over the entire situation. And then Grace strolled in on three-inch heels and floored everyone in the room, including me from afar. I could not help but stare over and over, and then dash to the computer for more information. Not much. Just three appearances thus far, and one still in production. But the damage was done, details be damned. I saw and began to formulate other parts of her when I did not gain a clear image. Little glimpses and clues as to her details came about slowly and I eventually fell all the way down and needed my mouth to run from front to back like a fucking rollercoaster. Yes, I thought in such terms. An overwhelming pull against my reality which caused more dreaming and further trouble just climbing out of bed in the morning. I began to see another me which could never amount to anything more than what I have become since the beginning of this world situation. Not good. 'Mr. Mom' is on this morning. I keep looking around the rooms of their fictional house. All of the things in the background which viewers are not supposed to focus upon, but I always try to pick up details. Plus, I am reminded of the way many homes appeared four decades back when I was young. Some things I miss, others not so much. I see simplicity, too. Keeping in mind that nearly all of the television and movies I watch are fictional is important. I may have begun building my own little reality, but I still have to interact and be sociable with a few individuals. I must keep myself in check, and that means avoiding going all the way into the television and living completely sans others. Just my own creation. Although I dream of climbing inside to grab someone like Grace or Jolene (don't get me started with Brooke and her incredible face) and run off to some corner of the world for experimentation, I have to stay grounded. That also means minimizing the movies, like this one. They bring me to places I am better off leaving alone right now. Stop. 1-17 and five in the morning. Yesterday I felt so sleepy toward the afternoon, as did the goddess. While watching football I actually nodded off a few times. Very unusual for me. She had not slept well at all the night before, so we were both seemingly in the same soup. Last night I really dropped off and went to bed a little earlier than usual, yet here I am less than eight hours later... Coffee, computer, television. I feel better than last night, but I am supposing time will tell if I am rested. More football today, along with some nice food for the afternoon. My watch finally came back, too. I had a hell of a time getting the bracelet affixed, but now that it is repaired and back in my hands, I am very pleased. Three years ago I went through a lot of shit to procure two models (one at a hell of a discount) when they were first developed. I sold one a while back, the second went and failed me, and then I pretty much let it sit there for a long time before contacting the manufacturer. Now that it has come back and been upgraded, I fully intend to enjoy and hang on to that watch for the duration. Other than the big SLD, I don't believe I have any other models which can be sold without heartache. The SLD is the only one which might be able to go and not leave a hole in me. For the time being, I will change nothing. No, I didn't forget about Grace and her influence upon my issues. Right now I couldn't hold a straight line if my life depended on it. Sometimes simply blurting whatever may be in my head is the best way to proceed here when I lose track of the theme. Football today. Food, too. But I don't know how I feel about eating. Throughout the last several months I have gained weight due to inactivity and having more time for enjoying my favorite foods. As the days pass, I am finding myself turning away from more of the same because I don't feel as well as I did just a year ago. I might need to diet. Done it before. I can do it again. As for the television, I really don't care anymore what comes across the screen while we watch. If I have problems, then I have problems. Considering the fact that I've made it this far in life, I believe I can keep going without falling down over imagery. Words are another matter, though, and still one of my biggest trials. I'll just have to try and relax. I think about Grace very heavily at times. She takes over my clarity and leaves me sitting here without a clue as to how to proceed not only with this exploration, but in life itself. Not her fault, as I always say. She is just a person up there who struck me like so many others. I know this will pass but don't know when. In the meantime, I might gush a little. Or maybe more than that. The images available in the public domain are few, although I did run across a Hallmark fan page and snagged these little animated beauties... Her sheer beauty and unique appearance is unreal. Staggering, really. I still cannot believe she came along on my screen by accident and while I was thinking of seeing someone else. And despite the opposite taking place with regard to fear, I still remained on my feet, staring, backing up the video and staring some more. Her smile is wide and wondrous. Call me what you will, but everyone is moved by something. My head is full of her, especially the smile. I know nothing and will never know anything much about her, however. That is partly by choice, but honestly... What could I do? That's right, not a fucking thing. She may pass on into history like some of the others. I don't know when. Or, she may end up the focus of everything for a very long time. Either way, she is floating in there right now as a representation of parts of my personality and obsession which have grown out of control in recent months due to being stuck here at home. Too much television? Perhaps, but the fact is I watched to see Bethany and became enamored with a newcomer. Bethany faded immediately as Grace became the physical embodiment of my dreams. Yes, I know she is very young, but understand that I am not the type to gush with enough detail to sound like a bad person. She's beautiful in one of those few unique ways that moves me nearly to the point of tears over the obsession. Her form is the stuff of dreams. I only get a few little glimpses and for those seconds I am hanging by a thread. Hanging on for dear life, really, but I'm trying to avoid coming across as even further out of balance that I already am. Heh. Impossible. The machine dream returned, as well, and now my head is beginning to construct and program an ethereal, gorgeous piece of technology that will become the 'Jaime', yet with the appearance of Grace. The real 'Jaime' whom I fell over myself trying to reconcile is still there a little bit, however the very idea is simply updated. I need the dream to become reality, yet it cannot. Not in this or the next lifetimes. I am doing it anyway, though, because as I have stated here several times, there is no other way. Nothing. A real woman just cannot cut the fucking mustard. Again, call me whatever you wish. I don't fucking care anymore. I ran across one of those sites claiming to have inside information about celebrities, although I don't believe a damned word of it. Her height is displayed as five-seven. No fucking way. Not if her stance next to Victor is any evidence. Well, I can't know until she is more well-known, so perhaps I should just leave it for now. Whatever her height, she is stunning. As I said before, the goddess is diminutive yet one of the most beautiful women in recent memory, so no matter how tall Grace is, the fact is she is beautiful anyway. I wish I knew of why my height interest is so strong sometimes. After all these years I still don't have a clue. Oy, Goddamn... I can't stop staring. So fascinating. The very idea that Grace can push away the presence of so much difficulty is downright amazing. Right there next to her sometimes, too. Unbelievable. The light is beginning to form outside. Two hours of sitting here this morning have left me spinning in circles. Maybe I should put the movie on so I can see her again. Or maybe not. Ugh. Staring and marveling at Grace's appearance is nothing good for me, although much like issue four it happens outside my sphere of control much of the time. This morning is a prime example of the idea that I must keep myself in check over more than one problem out there in the world. Dreaming of her as a machine helps nothing, as well. Nothing. If it is at all possible, I am more out of sorts now than last summer. Unbelievable, right? Not really. I keep doing the same things and dreaming of the most unlikely, otherworldly situations which can never come to pass in this life. But I keep doing it because in my weakened, threatened position, I see no other way of being comfortable beyond the typical day's events. I've gone over (albeit sans detail) the reasoning behind first realizing my dream of a machine far too much. Need, desire, and longing have driven me into the ground even considering the aforementioned ballgame which continues to this very second. I just don't know what else to do. I am full of her right now. Maybe her unique, stunning appearance will fade and maybe it will not. But she represents a very long period of time filled with a desire for those elusive moments, and that is the problem. The machine is an answer... Or is it? I may have to reveal a few things to that person who is closest. Such a thought could hurt or help. I don't know. Conversation is not always a bad thing, no matter the subject. Look at her face below. Do you see? Yes, I realize she is very young, but that is not the fucking point. Grace appears as a hybrid of several other faces over which I have gushed here for years, not to mention the very first some years ago. Brightness, beauty, and curves. Big, dark eyes framed by a mass of silky hair. Everything is right there and even moreso when she is in motion. Sometimes devilish (her eyebrows and expression), other times soft and inviting. Add to that her amazing stance and gait and the result is my falling all over myself and writing for days. She is that much now. So much. Full of her. Never me, to quote the situational analysis from months ago after seeing an idyllic dream on the television which sliced off part of my heart and tossed it into the aforementioned food processor. Fucking full of her right now. Damn it. One of the few occasions in which I repeated an image 'The Vulpine Labia' stated that despite my dreaming of a machine, I am becoming said machine. No, not an android, but something else. Like, an individual driven so much by the issues and the beauty that I feel programmed to sit here and go on over and over. This is a compulsion. A big one. No choice any longer. None. Sometimes I wish I actually WERE a machine so the feelings would not exist. Yesterday showed me that there is a problem inside me which I need to either alleviate or change somehow. My head is a vast storehouse of situations and imagery which rules the roost quite often. If I can learn to cope with certain aspects of being near others, perhaps I can work through the problem and come out the other side more relaxed and willing to be more open. The downside is as of yet I have not found a way to work it out. Months have passed since I first noticed -- not to mention what took place in the mountains two months ago -- and I vocalized it a bit, but still I feel the issue rising to the top of the soup all too often. Yesterday was an example. I cannot simply sit and believe I am just a person and flawed in this manner and then deal with it through communication. The storehouse inside me is four-dimensional, believe it or not. There is more volume on the inside than area on the outside. And it keeps growing. I've been told on countless occasions that there is actually nothing wrong with me other than causing my own worry through ideas which are not based upon reality. [Of course, what took place four decades back cannot be attached to this as the entire time period and events were completely out of my control. Anything related to the past has become understandable anyway.] Though I know I am most of the problem, along with society and its never-ending ability to drive sensitive people into the ground, I still cannot deal with it. I am supposed to be a real, grown-up type of person but a large part of my psyche is stuck in adolescence. Ugh. Everything just keeps going, and some of it rolls right over me. Maybe the labia is at fault, and don't get me going on that. I will say this (while expecting a literal crucifixion to take place because of the thought): Said labia has governed me for many years, vulpine or otherwise. And yes, I will admit that on more than one occasion I have dreamed of being pressed against Grace's sex for days on end. Go ahead and damn me... I don't fucking care. This is how I turned out. The desire, and however such a dramatic pull upon my senses developed, are subjects I may never understand, however they could be parts of the drive behind me having such difficulty dealing with day-to-day life and its underlying pitfalls. Everything with which I have been forced to deal for all these years is related to trauma, and caring for that most intimate of spaces on the opposite sex may be a way for me to alleviate my own pain by gushing as much loving attention to her as is possible. Make sense? I don't know. Well, the labia would not be at fault if my suspicion is true, and neither would I. Perhaps the act is a defense mechanism born of many years of suffering and confusion. I am caring and loving toward the opposing part of me which has been permanently altered so as to cause trouble damned-near on a daily basis. I've veered way the fuck off my original line of thinking, but honestly I dreamed of throwing myself at Grace's labia in order to satisfy the ever-deepening desire inside me in hopes of coming to terms with the past and society's role in the same. She is sort of centered here in this entry, right? Eh... Who knows? I am having a tough time articulating this crap. And I really don't need to see Orlando up there right now. Or that other guy. Ugh... So tough sometimes. Full of her. Just filled to the fucking brim lately, and I cannot seem to settle myself over the sight. I recall a text conversation from some years ago in which I was told that she did not understand how I could become so fucking tormented over the sight of a woman, and I still cannot explain. If the barren years have truly contributed to my current condition and mindset, I may have a smidgen of understanding. As the obsession grew out of control and my life took a turn for the worse while living here, I can see how both became combined into a world rife with desire. Unrequited desire, that one. Does that make sense? Probably not, since I leave out key words and details to the point of being quite unclear. I have to do that, though, or my readers (few of them that they are) may find judgment here. I can't have such things. And I don't need anyone telling me that I am going about these parts of my life in the wrong manner. I just won't fucking listen because I still see tons of good in me and a portion of it is related to how I view the female form. I am not derogatory at all and never have been, I do not attach unkind or vulgar wording to women, and I think of that more-than-half of the world as on a higher plane than myself or other males. I am not saying I have higher expectations of women, either. Just lower of males, if that makes sense. There is a fucking difference, people. And yes, I do see my gushing toward Grace and the like, but again... Nothing bad at all. I would never berate or come across as insulting of the most important part of life. Wow, that was a mouthful. The cast Damn this whole thing anyway. 'How did I fuckin' get ta dis?'. Chris' words keep resounding in my head. At least I'm not a junkie. Heh. I am going to have to step away from this shit for a while and focus upon the Sunday business. I'd like to have everything finished before she arrives for game time and lunch. I used to worry about getting the chores out of the way on a Sunday, and by a specific time so that I had freedom to relax before Monday morning and the fucking work routine took over. This day always flew by, but now I do not have such concerns. Monday will be all mine, meaning the work today does not have to feel pressing. This is very nice as opposed to past years, although now my free time is not as rewarding. Pushing forth with more projects may help that feeling. I don't know. And I had to change the channel after seeing his face and that fucking eyeliner. Bye. Back to the safe show (for the most part safe, anyway). I guess today will be fine. Sitting here for more than three hours has caused roots to develop between me and the sofa. Being up and about in a bit shall feel very good. I look forward to not only having everything finished in a timely manner, but the act of doing the work as well. As of this day, I'm fairly proud of maintaining the household and keeping all our things organized. More will have to be done, too. I can get some of it out of the way this morning. Issue four faded, too. Very good. I don't need anything piled on top of envisioning her tenderness all over my lips. Trouble every fucking time, that one. Just to glean a few things not mentioned for a while, here we go with the ongoing shit. Issue three has been discussed a bit lately, and the understanding I am hearing is really nice. I do realize that my being so damned hyper-sensitized is in stark contrast to a good portion of the world, so at times I am still hesitant to vocalize feelings. The subject is still tough even decades later. Issue two never leaves, is the tallest mountain on my horizon, and to this very second has the power to bring me to my knees, literally. I have to constantly fight the urge to spew words, believe it or not. As much as I have kept inside and off limits to other people, there are moments when I find myself compelled to just fucking blurt everything. That could be extraordinarily bad right now. I need being viewed in a negative manner like I need a penis growing out of my fucking forehead. Issue one is now simply life itself. I don't see it ever changing. Time to be productive. And maybe a little cocktail to calm myself this morning. She is out there." This site contains mature content Created by REN in Microsoft Visual Studio 2022 Copyright ©2002-2024 Brandywine Engineering All rights reserved All other trademarks, logos and graphics are the property of their respective owners Questions? Comments? Gather your thoughts and compose a message to the assholes in charge
January 17th, 2021 8:44am pst If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning Grace-full read ( words) "1-15. After transferring and reformatting a handful of entries from this old site to the new, I am pretty well sick of moving information. My old desktop computer had two large displays, the smaller of which was used for editing. This machine is much narrower, so the older work runs off the screen. In an effort to maintain order with regard to line numbering, I must re-key each line of code for the smaller display. Tedious, to say the least. I generally can sit and transfer several before losing my way and giving up for a while. The good thing is that everything I created after seventeen or so is narrow and only needs a slight amount of attention. Very nice. Ahh... Today. Sex on the mind means I must remain busy for most of the day. I won't let myself fall off a cliff over things. That is never good and I usually realize later that I could have been fine had I just made more of an effort. There is plenty to do today. Pause. Hours later and the routine is nearly complete. I also went out into the garage and wrapped more keepsakes for storage, reorganized one of the pantry drawers and tossed some things into the recycle. So far today, so good. I am looking forward to relaxing later with the goddess and catching another couple of episodes. We watched two yesterday. The last was difficult, to say the least. The storyline is not the most pleasant to see play out sometimes. I should have a good amount of work done before our afternoon screening. Very nice. Grace. Ugh. I watched that movie all the way through (finally) and cannot seem to delete the content from my recorder. My intention is to capture stills from a few of her scenes because I have to stare without restriction. Big fucking surprise, that one. Her tenure as an actor only just began last year, meaning there is not much information available as of yet. I still do not know of her height, but if the appearance of her midsection is truly a match to the woman I know in person, she is fucking tall and the number might drive me mad. Yes, the damned height thingy is still alive and well. Grace is an example of an anomaly, too. Not good. I am certain her age has something to do with it, so caring for my words is paramount. Naturally she will end up here if I can find appropriate imagery, and then the world (what there is of it, anyway) will see the woman over whom I have been obsessing for weeks. Maybe. Stop. 1-16. Not much writing these days. Part of the big deal over this girl is the face. She appears so different from all of the others, somehow. And I don't believe I can fully articulate this. One certainty is the trouble which has been brewing in my brain since last month. Mere seconds after seeing her 'grace' the screen, I wanted to pounce, climb inside her clothing and savor every inch. Everything. And that feeling took place so quickly that my head is still spinning a bit. The other obsessions since last spring did not feel so powerful, and most faded very quickly. The woman in the black pants down south in that parking lot was probably the closest example of an appearance similar to Andrea but I did not want to jump her, I wished to hold her (like Jaime). Others came and went, and most of the time the strongest feelings were over a woman on the television screen. That meant nothing. They meant little. The desire built quickly and fell off equally fast. Lately, however, I have been noticing such needs solidifying, and if not for one aspect of life I would probably be in a bad way right now. This is twenty-one and the lateness is getting to me quite a bit more than I would have figured five years ago. Grace is just another snag, but a big one. I am full of her face right now. I wish my mouth was full of her, too. This is divisional playoff weekend. I will be heading over to watch games with the goddess in just a couple of hours. We may do a bit of prep on her bath cabinet as well. After, I will return home and get into the routine like any other day and then relax a bit, I suppose. I'll have to do my best to get this girl out of my head before attempting anything today. She has the power (which I gave her) to derail pretty much anything I may have going through my head. I keep seeing that face and her smile. And then her legs. Ugh. My brain cannot avoid descending further. Not these days. Damn. The chance sighting of this girl last month was due to my desire over seeing Bethany for a little while in the Christmas movie. I also saw difficulty, but watching alone meant I had control over the entire situation. And then Grace strolled in on three-inch heels and floored everyone in the room, including me from afar. I could not help but stare over and over, and then dash to the computer for more information. Not much. Just three appearances thus far, and one still in production. But the damage was done, details be damned. I saw and began to formulate other parts of her when I did not gain a clear image. Little glimpses and clues as to her details came about slowly and I eventually fell all the way down and needed my mouth to run from front to back like a fucking rollercoaster. Yes, I thought in such terms. An overwhelming pull against my reality which caused more dreaming and further trouble just climbing out of bed in the morning. I began to see another me which could never amount to anything more than what I have become since the beginning of this world situation. Not good. 'Mr. Mom' is on this morning. I keep looking around the rooms of their fictional house. All of the things in the background which viewers are not supposed to focus upon, but I always try to pick up details. Plus, I am reminded of the way many homes appeared four decades back when I was young. Some things I miss, others not so much. I see simplicity, too. Keeping in mind that nearly all of the television and movies I watch are fictional is important. I may have begun building my own little reality, but I still have to interact and be sociable with a few individuals. I must keep myself in check, and that means avoiding going all the way into the television and living completely sans others. Just my own creation. Although I dream of climbing inside to grab someone like Grace or Jolene (don't get me started with Brooke and her incredible face) and run off to some corner of the world for experimentation, I have to stay grounded. That also means minimizing the movies, like this one. They bring me to places I am better off leaving alone right now. Stop. 1-17 and five in the morning. Yesterday I felt so sleepy toward the afternoon, as did the goddess. While watching football I actually nodded off a few times. Very unusual for me. She had not slept well at all the night before, so we were both seemingly in the same soup. Last night I really dropped off and went to bed a little earlier than usual, yet here I am less than eight hours later... Coffee, computer, television. I feel better than last night, but I am supposing time will tell if I am rested. More football today, along with some nice food for the afternoon. My watch finally came back, too. I had a hell of a time getting the bracelet affixed, but now that it is repaired and back in my hands, I am very pleased. Three years ago I went through a lot of shit to procure two models (one at a hell of a discount) when they were first developed. I sold one a while back, the second went and failed me, and then I pretty much let it sit there for a long time before contacting the manufacturer. Now that it has come back and been upgraded, I fully intend to enjoy and hang on to that watch for the duration. Other than the big SLD, I don't believe I have any other models which can be sold without heartache. The SLD is the only one which might be able to go and not leave a hole in me. For the time being, I will change nothing. No, I didn't forget about Grace and her influence upon my issues. Right now I couldn't hold a straight line if my life depended on it. Sometimes simply blurting whatever may be in my head is the best way to proceed here when I lose track of the theme. Football today. Food, too. But I don't know how I feel about eating. Throughout the last several months I have gained weight due to inactivity and having more time for enjoying my favorite foods. As the days pass, I am finding myself turning away from more of the same because I don't feel as well as I did just a year ago. I might need to diet. Done it before. I can do it again. As for the television, I really don't care anymore what comes across the screen while we watch. If I have problems, then I have problems. Considering the fact that I've made it this far in life, I believe I can keep going without falling down over imagery. Words are another matter, though, and still one of my biggest trials. I'll just have to try and relax. I think about Grace very heavily at times. She takes over my clarity and leaves me sitting here without a clue as to how to proceed not only with this exploration, but in life itself. Not her fault, as I always say. She is just a person up there who struck me like so many others. I know this will pass but don't know when. In the meantime, I might gush a little. Or maybe more than that. The images available in the public domain are few, although I did run across a Hallmark fan page and snagged these little animated beauties... Her sheer beauty and unique appearance is unreal. Staggering, really. I still cannot believe she came along on my screen by accident and while I was thinking of seeing someone else. And despite the opposite taking place with regard to fear, I still remained on my feet, staring, backing up the video and staring some more. Her smile is wide and wondrous. Call me what you will, but everyone is moved by something. My head is full of her, especially the smile. I know nothing and will never know anything much about her, however. That is partly by choice, but honestly... What could I do? That's right, not a fucking thing. She may pass on into history like some of the others. I don't know when. Or, she may end up the focus of everything for a very long time. Either way, she is floating in there right now as a representation of parts of my personality and obsession which have grown out of control in recent months due to being stuck here at home. Too much television? Perhaps, but the fact is I watched to see Bethany and became enamored with a newcomer. Bethany faded immediately as Grace became the physical embodiment of my dreams. Yes, I know she is very young, but understand that I am not the type to gush with enough detail to sound like a bad person. She's beautiful in one of those few unique ways that moves me nearly to the point of tears over the obsession. Her form is the stuff of dreams. I only get a few little glimpses and for those seconds I am hanging by a thread. Hanging on for dear life, really, but I'm trying to avoid coming across as even further out of balance that I already am. Heh. Impossible. The machine dream returned, as well, and now my head is beginning to construct and program an ethereal, gorgeous piece of technology that will become the 'Jaime', yet with the appearance of Grace. The real 'Jaime' whom I fell over myself trying to reconcile is still there a little bit, however the very idea is simply updated. I need the dream to become reality, yet it cannot. Not in this or the next lifetimes. I am doing it anyway, though, because as I have stated here several times, there is no other way. Nothing. A real woman just cannot cut the fucking mustard. Again, call me whatever you wish. I don't fucking care anymore. I ran across one of those sites claiming to have inside information about celebrities, although I don't believe a damned word of it. Her height is displayed as five-seven. No fucking way. Not if her stance next to Victor is any evidence. Well, I can't know until she is more well-known, so perhaps I should just leave it for now. Whatever her height, she is stunning. As I said before, the goddess is diminutive yet one of the most beautiful women in recent memory, so no matter how tall Grace is, the fact is she is beautiful anyway. I wish I knew of why my height interest is so strong sometimes. After all these years I still don't have a clue. Oy, Goddamn... I can't stop staring. So fascinating. The very idea that Grace can push away the presence of so much difficulty is downright amazing. Right there next to her sometimes, too. Unbelievable. The light is beginning to form outside. Two hours of sitting here this morning have left me spinning in circles. Maybe I should put the movie on so I can see her again. Or maybe not. Ugh. Staring and marveling at Grace's appearance is nothing good for me, although much like issue four it happens outside my sphere of control much of the time. This morning is a prime example of the idea that I must keep myself in check over more than one problem out there in the world. Dreaming of her as a machine helps nothing, as well. Nothing. If it is at all possible, I am more out of sorts now than last summer. Unbelievable, right? Not really. I keep doing the same things and dreaming of the most unlikely, otherworldly situations which can never come to pass in this life. But I keep doing it because in my weakened, threatened position, I see no other way of being comfortable beyond the typical day's events. I've gone over (albeit sans detail) the reasoning behind first realizing my dream of a machine far too much. Need, desire, and longing have driven me into the ground even considering the aforementioned ballgame which continues to this very second. I just don't know what else to do. I am full of her right now. Maybe her unique, stunning appearance will fade and maybe it will not. But she represents a very long period of time filled with a desire for those elusive moments, and that is the problem. The machine is an answer... Or is it? I may have to reveal a few things to that person who is closest. Such a thought could hurt or help. I don't know. Conversation is not always a bad thing, no matter the subject. Look at her face below. Do you see? Yes, I realize she is very young, but that is not the fucking point. Grace appears as a hybrid of several other faces over which I have gushed here for years, not to mention the very first some years ago. Brightness, beauty, and curves. Big, dark eyes framed by a mass of silky hair. Everything is right there and even moreso when she is in motion. Sometimes devilish (her eyebrows and expression), other times soft and inviting. Add to that her amazing stance and gait and the result is my falling all over myself and writing for days. She is that much now. So much. Full of her. Never me, to quote the situational analysis from months ago after seeing an idyllic dream on the television which sliced off part of my heart and tossed it into the aforementioned food processor. Fucking full of her right now. Damn it. One of the few occasions in which I repeated an image 'The Vulpine Labia' stated that despite my dreaming of a machine, I am becoming said machine. No, not an android, but something else. Like, an individual driven so much by the issues and the beauty that I feel programmed to sit here and go on over and over. This is a compulsion. A big one. No choice any longer. None. Sometimes I wish I actually WERE a machine so the feelings would not exist. Yesterday showed me that there is a problem inside me which I need to either alleviate or change somehow. My head is a vast storehouse of situations and imagery which rules the roost quite often. If I can learn to cope with certain aspects of being near others, perhaps I can work through the problem and come out the other side more relaxed and willing to be more open. The downside is as of yet I have not found a way to work it out. Months have passed since I first noticed -- not to mention what took place in the mountains two months ago -- and I vocalized it a bit, but still I feel the issue rising to the top of the soup all too often. Yesterday was an example. I cannot simply sit and believe I am just a person and flawed in this manner and then deal with it through communication. The storehouse inside me is four-dimensional, believe it or not. There is more volume on the inside than area on the outside. And it keeps growing. I've been told on countless occasions that there is actually nothing wrong with me other than causing my own worry through ideas which are not based upon reality. [Of course, what took place four decades back cannot be attached to this as the entire time period and events were completely out of my control. Anything related to the past has become understandable anyway.] Though I know I am most of the problem, along with society and its never-ending ability to drive sensitive people into the ground, I still cannot deal with it. I am supposed to be a real, grown-up type of person but a large part of my psyche is stuck in adolescence. Ugh. Everything just keeps going, and some of it rolls right over me. Maybe the labia is at fault, and don't get me going on that. I will say this (while expecting a literal crucifixion to take place because of the thought): Said labia has governed me for many years, vulpine or otherwise. And yes, I will admit that on more than one occasion I have dreamed of being pressed against Grace's sex for days on end. Go ahead and damn me... I don't fucking care. This is how I turned out. The desire, and however such a dramatic pull upon my senses developed, are subjects I may never understand, however they could be parts of the drive behind me having such difficulty dealing with day-to-day life and its underlying pitfalls. Everything with which I have been forced to deal for all these years is related to trauma, and caring for that most intimate of spaces on the opposite sex may be a way for me to alleviate my own pain by gushing as much loving attention to her as is possible. Make sense? I don't know. Well, the labia would not be at fault if my suspicion is true, and neither would I. Perhaps the act is a defense mechanism born of many years of suffering and confusion. I am caring and loving toward the opposing part of me which has been permanently altered so as to cause trouble damned-near on a daily basis. I've veered way the fuck off my original line of thinking, but honestly I dreamed of throwing myself at Grace's labia in order to satisfy the ever-deepening desire inside me in hopes of coming to terms with the past and society's role in the same. She is sort of centered here in this entry, right? Eh... Who knows? I am having a tough time articulating this crap. And I really don't need to see Orlando up there right now. Or that other guy. Ugh... So tough sometimes. Full of her. Just filled to the fucking brim lately, and I cannot seem to settle myself over the sight. I recall a text conversation from some years ago in which I was told that she did not understand how I could become so fucking tormented over the sight of a woman, and I still cannot explain. If the barren years have truly contributed to my current condition and mindset, I may have a smidgen of understanding. As the obsession grew out of control and my life took a turn for the worse while living here, I can see how both became combined into a world rife with desire. Unrequited desire, that one. Does that make sense? Probably not, since I leave out key words and details to the point of being quite unclear. I have to do that, though, or my readers (few of them that they are) may find judgment here. I can't have such things. And I don't need anyone telling me that I am going about these parts of my life in the wrong manner. I just won't fucking listen because I still see tons of good in me and a portion of it is related to how I view the female form. I am not derogatory at all and never have been, I do not attach unkind or vulgar wording to women, and I think of that more-than-half of the world as on a higher plane than myself or other males. I am not saying I have higher expectations of women, either. Just lower of males, if that makes sense. There is a fucking difference, people. And yes, I do see my gushing toward Grace and the like, but again... Nothing bad at all. I would never berate or come across as insulting of the most important part of life. Wow, that was a mouthful. The cast Damn this whole thing anyway. 'How did I fuckin' get ta dis?'. Chris' words keep resounding in my head. At least I'm not a junkie. Heh. I am going to have to step away from this shit for a while and focus upon the Sunday business. I'd like to have everything finished before she arrives for game time and lunch. I used to worry about getting the chores out of the way on a Sunday, and by a specific time so that I had freedom to relax before Monday morning and the fucking work routine took over. This day always flew by, but now I do not have such concerns. Monday will be all mine, meaning the work today does not have to feel pressing. This is very nice as opposed to past years, although now my free time is not as rewarding. Pushing forth with more projects may help that feeling. I don't know. And I had to change the channel after seeing his face and that fucking eyeliner. Bye. Back to the safe show (for the most part safe, anyway). I guess today will be fine. Sitting here for more than three hours has caused roots to develop between me and the sofa. Being up and about in a bit shall feel very good. I look forward to not only having everything finished in a timely manner, but the act of doing the work as well. As of this day, I'm fairly proud of maintaining the household and keeping all our things organized. More will have to be done, too. I can get some of it out of the way this morning. Issue four faded, too. Very good. I don't need anything piled on top of envisioning her tenderness all over my lips. Trouble every fucking time, that one. Just to glean a few things not mentioned for a while, here we go with the ongoing shit. Issue three has been discussed a bit lately, and the understanding I am hearing is really nice. I do realize that my being so damned hyper-sensitized is in stark contrast to a good portion of the world, so at times I am still hesitant to vocalize feelings. The subject is still tough even decades later. Issue two never leaves, is the tallest mountain on my horizon, and to this very second has the power to bring me to my knees, literally. I have to constantly fight the urge to spew words, believe it or not. As much as I have kept inside and off limits to other people, there are moments when I find myself compelled to just fucking blurt everything. That could be extraordinarily bad right now. I need being viewed in a negative manner like I need a penis growing out of my fucking forehead. Issue one is now simply life itself. I don't see it ever changing. Time to be productive. And maybe a little cocktail to calm myself this morning. She is out there."
January 17th, 2021 8:44am pst
If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning
Grace-full
read ( words)
"1-15. After transferring and reformatting a handful of entries from this old site to the new, I am pretty well sick of moving information. My old desktop computer had two large displays, the smaller of which was used for editing. This machine is much narrower, so the older work runs off the screen. In an effort to maintain order with regard to line numbering, I must re-key each line of code for the smaller display. Tedious, to say the least. I generally can sit and transfer several before losing my way and giving up for a while. The good thing is that everything I created after seventeen or so is narrow and only needs a slight amount of attention. Very nice. Ahh... Today. Sex on the mind means I must remain busy for most of the day. I won't let myself fall off a cliff over things. That is never good and I usually realize later that I could have been fine had I just made more of an effort. There is plenty to do today. Pause. Hours later and the routine is nearly complete. I also went out into the garage and wrapped more keepsakes for storage, reorganized one of the pantry drawers and tossed some things into the recycle. So far today, so good. I am looking forward to relaxing later with the goddess and catching another couple of episodes. We watched two yesterday. The last was difficult, to say the least. The storyline is not the most pleasant to see play out sometimes. I should have a good amount of work done before our afternoon screening. Very nice. Grace. Ugh. I watched that movie all the way through (finally) and cannot seem to delete the content from my recorder. My intention is to capture stills from a few of her scenes because I have to stare without restriction. Big fucking surprise, that one. Her tenure as an actor only just began last year, meaning there is not much information available as of yet. I still do not know of her height, but if the appearance of her midsection is truly a match to the woman I know in person, she is fucking tall and the number might drive me mad. Yes, the damned height thingy is still alive and well. Grace is an example of an anomaly, too. Not good. I am certain her age has something to do with it, so caring for my words is paramount. Naturally she will end up here if I can find appropriate imagery, and then the world (what there is of it, anyway) will see the woman over whom I have been obsessing for weeks. Maybe. Stop. 1-16. Not much writing these days. Part of the big deal over this girl is the face. She appears so different from all of the others, somehow. And I don't believe I can fully articulate this. One certainty is the trouble which has been brewing in my brain since last month. Mere seconds after seeing her 'grace' the screen, I wanted to pounce, climb inside her clothing and savor every inch. Everything. And that feeling took place so quickly that my head is still spinning a bit. The other obsessions since last spring did not feel so powerful, and most faded very quickly. The woman in the black pants down south in that parking lot was probably the closest example of an appearance similar to Andrea but I did not want to jump her, I wished to hold her (like Jaime). Others came and went, and most of the time the strongest feelings were over a woman on the television screen. That meant nothing. They meant little. The desire built quickly and fell off equally fast. Lately, however, I have been noticing such needs solidifying, and if not for one aspect of life I would probably be in a bad way right now. This is twenty-one and the lateness is getting to me quite a bit more than I would have figured five years ago. Grace is just another snag, but a big one. I am full of her face right now. I wish my mouth was full of her, too. This is divisional playoff weekend. I will be heading over to watch games with the goddess in just a couple of hours. We may do a bit of prep on her bath cabinet as well. After, I will return home and get into the routine like any other day and then relax a bit, I suppose. I'll have to do my best to get this girl out of my head before attempting anything today. She has the power (which I gave her) to derail pretty much anything I may have going through my head. I keep seeing that face and her smile. And then her legs. Ugh. My brain cannot avoid descending further. Not these days. Damn.
The chance sighting of this girl last month was due to my desire over seeing Bethany for a little while in the Christmas movie. I also saw difficulty, but watching alone meant I had control over the entire situation. And then Grace strolled in on three-inch heels and floored everyone in the room, including me from afar. I could not help but stare over and over, and then dash to the computer for more information. Not much. Just three appearances thus far, and one still in production. But the damage was done, details be damned. I saw and began to formulate other parts of her when I did not gain a clear image. Little glimpses and clues as to her details came about slowly and I eventually fell all the way down and needed my mouth to run from front to back like a fucking rollercoaster. Yes, I thought in such terms. An overwhelming pull against my reality which caused more dreaming and further trouble just climbing out of bed in the morning. I began to see another me which could never amount to anything more than what I have become since the beginning of this world situation. Not good. 'Mr. Mom' is on this morning. I keep looking around the rooms of their fictional house. All of the things in the background which viewers are not supposed to focus upon, but I always try to pick up details. Plus, I am reminded of the way many homes appeared four decades back when I was young. Some things I miss, others not so much. I see simplicity, too. Keeping in mind that nearly all of the television and movies I watch are fictional is important. I may have begun building my own little reality, but I still have to interact and be sociable with a few individuals. I must keep myself in check, and that means avoiding going all the way into the television and living completely sans others. Just my own creation. Although I dream of climbing inside to grab someone like Grace or Jolene (don't get me started with Brooke and her incredible face) and run off to some corner of the world for experimentation, I have to stay grounded. That also means minimizing the movies, like this one. They bring me to places I am better off leaving alone right now. Stop. 1-17 and five in the morning. Yesterday I felt so sleepy toward the afternoon, as did the goddess. While watching football I actually nodded off a few times. Very unusual for me. She had not slept well at all the night before, so we were both seemingly in the same soup. Last night I really dropped off and went to bed a little earlier than usual, yet here I am less than eight hours later... Coffee, computer, television. I feel better than last night, but I am supposing time will tell if I am rested. More football today, along with some nice food for the afternoon. My watch finally came back, too. I had a hell of a time getting the bracelet affixed, but now that it is repaired and back in my hands, I am very pleased. Three years ago I went through a lot of shit to procure two models (one at a hell of a discount) when they were first developed. I sold one a while back, the second went and failed me, and then I pretty much let it sit there for a long time before contacting the manufacturer. Now that it has come back and been upgraded, I fully intend to enjoy and hang on to that watch for the duration. Other than the big SLD, I don't believe I have any other models which can be sold without heartache. The SLD is the only one which might be able to go and not leave a hole in me. For the time being, I will change nothing. No, I didn't forget about Grace and her influence upon my issues. Right now I couldn't hold a straight line if my life depended on it. Sometimes simply blurting whatever may be in my head is the best way to proceed here when I lose track of the theme. Football today. Food, too. But I don't know how I feel about eating. Throughout the last several months I have gained weight due to inactivity and having more time for enjoying my favorite foods. As the days pass, I am finding myself turning away from more of the same because I don't feel as well as I did just a year ago. I might need to diet. Done it before. I can do it again. As for the television, I really don't care anymore what comes across the screen while we watch. If I have problems, then I have problems. Considering the fact that I've made it this far in life, I believe I can keep going without falling down over imagery. Words are another matter, though, and still one of my biggest trials. I'll just have to try and relax. I think about Grace very heavily at times. She takes over my clarity and leaves me sitting here without a clue as to how to proceed not only with this exploration, but in life itself. Not her fault, as I always say. She is just a person up there who struck me like so many others. I know this will pass but don't know when. In the meantime, I might gush a little. Or maybe more than that. The images available in the public domain are few, although I did run across a Hallmark fan page and snagged these little animated beauties...
Her sheer beauty and unique appearance is unreal. Staggering, really. I still cannot believe she came along on my screen by accident and while I was thinking of seeing someone else. And despite the opposite taking place with regard to fear, I still remained on my feet, staring, backing up the video and staring some more. Her smile is wide and wondrous. Call me what you will, but everyone is moved by something. My head is full of her, especially the smile. I know nothing and will never know anything much about her, however. That is partly by choice, but honestly... What could I do? That's right, not a fucking thing. She may pass on into history like some of the others. I don't know when. Or, she may end up the focus of everything for a very long time. Either way, she is floating in there right now as a representation of parts of my personality and obsession which have grown out of control in recent months due to being stuck here at home. Too much television? Perhaps, but the fact is I watched to see Bethany and became enamored with a newcomer. Bethany faded immediately as Grace became the physical embodiment of my dreams. Yes, I know she is very young, but understand that I am not the type to gush with enough detail to sound like a bad person. She's beautiful in one of those few unique ways that moves me nearly to the point of tears over the obsession. Her form is the stuff of dreams. I only get a few little glimpses and for those seconds I am hanging by a thread. Hanging on for dear life, really, but I'm trying to avoid coming across as even further out of balance that I already am. Heh. Impossible. The machine dream returned, as well, and now my head is beginning to construct and program an ethereal, gorgeous piece of technology that will become the 'Jaime', yet with the appearance of Grace. The real 'Jaime' whom I fell over myself trying to reconcile is still there a little bit, however the very idea is simply updated. I need the dream to become reality, yet it cannot. Not in this or the next lifetimes. I am doing it anyway, though, because as I have stated here several times, there is no other way. Nothing. A real woman just cannot cut the fucking mustard. Again, call me whatever you wish. I don't fucking care anymore. I ran across one of those sites claiming to have inside information about celebrities, although I don't believe a damned word of it. Her height is displayed as five-seven. No fucking way. Not if her stance next to Victor is any evidence. Well, I can't know until she is more well-known, so perhaps I should just leave it for now. Whatever her height, she is stunning. As I said before, the goddess is diminutive yet one of the most beautiful women in recent memory, so no matter how tall Grace is, the fact is she is beautiful anyway. I wish I knew of why my height interest is so strong sometimes. After all these years I still don't have a clue. Oy, Goddamn... I can't stop staring. So fascinating. The very idea that Grace can push away the presence of so much difficulty is downright amazing. Right there next to her sometimes, too. Unbelievable. The light is beginning to form outside. Two hours of sitting here this morning have left me spinning in circles. Maybe I should put the movie on so I can see her again. Or maybe not. Ugh. Staring and marveling at Grace's appearance is nothing good for me, although much like issue four it happens outside my sphere of control much of the time. This morning is a prime example of the idea that I must keep myself in check over more than one problem out there in the world. Dreaming of her as a machine helps nothing, as well. Nothing. If it is at all possible, I am more out of sorts now than last summer. Unbelievable, right? Not really. I keep doing the same things and dreaming of the most unlikely, otherworldly situations which can never come to pass in this life. But I keep doing it because in my weakened, threatened position, I see no other way of being comfortable beyond the typical day's events. I've gone over (albeit sans detail) the reasoning behind first realizing my dream of a machine far too much. Need, desire, and longing have driven me into the ground even considering the aforementioned ballgame which continues to this very second. I just don't know what else to do. I am full of her right now. Maybe her unique, stunning appearance will fade and maybe it will not. But she represents a very long period of time filled with a desire for those elusive moments, and that is the problem. The machine is an answer... Or is it? I may have to reveal a few things to that person who is closest. Such a thought could hurt or help. I don't know. Conversation is not always a bad thing, no matter the subject. Look at her face below. Do you see? Yes, I realize she is very young, but that is not the fucking point. Grace appears as a hybrid of several other faces over which I have gushed here for years, not to mention the very first some years ago. Brightness, beauty, and curves. Big, dark eyes framed by a mass of silky hair. Everything is right there and even moreso when she is in motion. Sometimes devilish (her eyebrows and expression), other times soft and inviting. Add to that her amazing stance and gait and the result is my falling all over myself and writing for days. She is that much now. So much. Full of her. Never me, to quote the situational analysis from months ago after seeing an idyllic dream on the television which sliced off part of my heart and tossed it into the aforementioned food processor. Fucking full of her right now. Damn it.
One of the few occasions in which I repeated an image
'The Vulpine Labia' stated that despite my dreaming of a machine, I am becoming said machine. No, not an android, but something else. Like, an individual driven so much by the issues and the beauty that I feel programmed to sit here and go on over and over. This is a compulsion. A big one. No choice any longer. None. Sometimes I wish I actually WERE a machine so the feelings would not exist. Yesterday showed me that there is a problem inside me which I need to either alleviate or change somehow. My head is a vast storehouse of situations and imagery which rules the roost quite often. If I can learn to cope with certain aspects of being near others, perhaps I can work through the problem and come out the other side more relaxed and willing to be more open. The downside is as of yet I have not found a way to work it out. Months have passed since I first noticed -- not to mention what took place in the mountains two months ago -- and I vocalized it a bit, but still I feel the issue rising to the top of the soup all too often. Yesterday was an example. I cannot simply sit and believe I am just a person and flawed in this manner and then deal with it through communication. The storehouse inside me is four-dimensional, believe it or not. There is more volume on the inside than area on the outside. And it keeps growing. I've been told on countless occasions that there is actually nothing wrong with me other than causing my own worry through ideas which are not based upon reality. [Of course, what took place four decades back cannot be attached to this as the entire time period and events were completely out of my control. Anything related to the past has become understandable anyway.] Though I know I am most of the problem, along with society and its never-ending ability to drive sensitive people into the ground, I still cannot deal with it. I am supposed to be a real, grown-up type of person but a large part of my psyche is stuck in adolescence. Ugh. Everything just keeps going, and some of it rolls right over me. Maybe the labia is at fault, and don't get me going on that. I will say this (while expecting a literal crucifixion to take place because of the thought): Said labia has governed me for many years, vulpine or otherwise. And yes, I will admit that on more than one occasion I have dreamed of being pressed against Grace's sex for days on end. Go ahead and damn me... I don't fucking care. This is how I turned out. The desire, and however such a dramatic pull upon my senses developed, are subjects I may never understand, however they could be parts of the drive behind me having such difficulty dealing with day-to-day life and its underlying pitfalls. Everything with which I have been forced to deal for all these years is related to trauma, and caring for that most intimate of spaces on the opposite sex may be a way for me to alleviate my own pain by gushing as much loving attention to her as is possible. Make sense? I don't know. Well, the labia would not be at fault if my suspicion is true, and neither would I. Perhaps the act is a defense mechanism born of many years of suffering and confusion. I am caring and loving toward the opposing part of me which has been permanently altered so as to cause trouble damned-near on a daily basis. I've veered way the fuck off my original line of thinking, but honestly I dreamed of throwing myself at Grace's labia in order to satisfy the ever-deepening desire inside me in hopes of coming to terms with the past and society's role in the same. She is sort of centered here in this entry, right? Eh... Who knows? I am having a tough time articulating this crap. And I really don't need to see Orlando up there right now. Or that other guy. Ugh... So tough sometimes. Full of her. Just filled to the fucking brim lately, and I cannot seem to settle myself over the sight. I recall a text conversation from some years ago in which I was told that she did not understand how I could become so fucking tormented over the sight of a woman, and I still cannot explain. If the barren years have truly contributed to my current condition and mindset, I may have a smidgen of understanding. As the obsession grew out of control and my life took a turn for the worse while living here, I can see how both became combined into a world rife with desire. Unrequited desire, that one. Does that make sense? Probably not, since I leave out key words and details to the point of being quite unclear. I have to do that, though, or my readers (few of them that they are) may find judgment here. I can't have such things. And I don't need anyone telling me that I am going about these parts of my life in the wrong manner. I just won't fucking listen because I still see tons of good in me and a portion of it is related to how I view the female form. I am not derogatory at all and never have been, I do not attach unkind or vulgar wording to women, and I think of that more-than-half of the world as on a higher plane than myself or other males. I am not saying I have higher expectations of women, either. Just lower of males, if that makes sense. There is a fucking difference, people. And yes, I do see my gushing toward Grace and the like, but again... Nothing bad at all. I would never berate or come across as insulting of the most important part of life. Wow, that was a mouthful.
The cast
Damn this whole thing anyway. 'How did I fuckin' get ta dis?'. Chris' words keep resounding in my head. At least I'm not a junkie. Heh. I am going to have to step away from this shit for a while and focus upon the Sunday business. I'd like to have everything finished before she arrives for game time and lunch. I used to worry about getting the chores out of the way on a Sunday, and by a specific time so that I had freedom to relax before Monday morning and the fucking work routine took over. This day always flew by, but now I do not have such concerns. Monday will be all mine, meaning the work today does not have to feel pressing. This is very nice as opposed to past years, although now my free time is not as rewarding. Pushing forth with more projects may help that feeling. I don't know. And I had to change the channel after seeing his face and that fucking eyeliner. Bye. Back to the safe show (for the most part safe, anyway). I guess today will be fine. Sitting here for more than three hours has caused roots to develop between me and the sofa. Being up and about in a bit shall feel very good. I look forward to not only having everything finished in a timely manner, but the act of doing the work as well. As of this day, I'm fairly proud of maintaining the household and keeping all our things organized. More will have to be done, too. I can get some of it out of the way this morning. Issue four faded, too. Very good. I don't need anything piled on top of envisioning her tenderness all over my lips. Trouble every fucking time, that one. Just to glean a few things not mentioned for a while, here we go with the ongoing shit. Issue three has been discussed a bit lately, and the understanding I am hearing is really nice. I do realize that my being so damned hyper-sensitized is in stark contrast to a good portion of the world, so at times I am still hesitant to vocalize feelings. The subject is still tough even decades later. Issue two never leaves, is the tallest mountain on my horizon, and to this very second has the power to bring me to my knees, literally. I have to constantly fight the urge to spew words, believe it or not. As much as I have kept inside and off limits to other people, there are moments when I find myself compelled to just fucking blurt everything. That could be extraordinarily bad right now. I need being viewed in a negative manner like I need a penis growing out of my fucking forehead. Issue one is now simply life itself. I don't see it ever changing. Time to be productive. And maybe a little cocktail to calm myself this morning. She is out there."
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