Yes, indeed. I have already started to take action in small ways that won't overwhelm me, and even they are more of a challenge than I was anticipating. But, I'm forcing myself, just to get used to doing and acting while I still internally dig and search. You know, the whole "start small" song and dance bit.
Wow. So, he's "sick to death" and had "nothing good to say" to me this morning, all because I refuse to cause a stink about the insufficient heat in my apartment. I've apparently been annoying him and p*****g him off beyond tolerance because I won't do anything to help myself. In the meantime, I have not bothered him about any of it, nor have I asked him to help me. Does this not seem a little extreme? Like, what business is it of his to be that mad and infuriated? Obviously, I take care of what matters to me. Example, I didn't stand for his crapass treatment of me, today, and certainly did something about it.
He's just insulting. He doesn't help me at all, nor care enough to help me, but apparently cares so much so to demean me. I think it's all just an excuse so he feels justified in doing it.
Help to achieve a husband who actually doesn't love me at all on his own accord, and voodoo children that are half-spawned by Satan?
I think I'll pass.
How is this not boring?
Even fake as crap, you couldn't imagine anything more interesting, risque, or unique to poorly write than this? This is it? Please, please, please say that you have aspirations to be a writer so that I can gloat when your dreams shatter and you end up failing, then turn into yet another human clone, leading a completely unremarkable life as a shadow.
I can't. I just can't. Can't afford it, can't cave. I really don't know how to cope with myself, right now, granted, but I know that just indulging for need and not want isn't going to make me feel any better about myself when the effects wear off and I'm back to work on Tuesday. Maybe with the weed, I'd have a much cleaner apartment and beautiful new paintings I've created, interesting thoughts and stories, and that's so incredibly desirable. That WILL make me feel better about myself, but I'll know it was medicated and manufactured, and that will disappoint me.
But, does it really matter if it is drug infused? I'd feel so much better, right now.
F*****g tug o' war between my mood and mind.
Wait a sec! LOL! My happiness isn't dependent on being with someone. I already was happy in love for nearly a decade and a half. But, not being picky in the first place ended causing me massive upset, grief, and bereavement beyond anything that I could have ever known. That kind of unhappiness is nothing I will ever go through EVER again, so dang right that I'm gonna be picky (not really picky, just specific) as I please, because I'm currently learning how to be truly happy living single potentially forever. So, no matter what, I'm paving a path that will make me happy with or without that love or partner thing. I'm not there yet, of course, the transition takes time, but I will be.
Ever finding someone suitable would be a very ideal addition to my life, but unhappiness would be to settle for less than the right match for me. Money and sex are superficial as eff, and I'm not going to give chances to anyone who shows himself to be that. See how happy you'll be when you're finally able to land the woman you really want to bang, then fall in love because of Miss. Pretty Freepuss, and down the road, eventually discover how happy you truly are because you didn't take the time to discover that she's the wrong one for you before you decided to fall in love with her and are then stuck with her and a depleted bank account.
"Keep telling yourself whatever you need to tell yourself."
Same back to ya.
Okay, so again, no listening to you, and be the decent person that I am, instead. Good! :)
Because, I'm a woman, and I don't care about money. So, it's not a universal truth. And, if I exist, then what must also exist is that not all men only care about sex.
Next up: Unicorns and Where to Find Them
If that's a universal truth, then I suppose I won't bother with any man again, except to start swindling money out of them for being superficial pieces of human hard-on trash. You'll all pay up if you think you're going to get sex, and I'm apparently really good at making guys think they're going to get it. But, you'll never get the sex, again, and I'm going to rob the eff out of you.
Nice guys or no, all the same, huh? Just that the nice guys are easier.
Do I have it right?
Add it with any slander you wish, I'm still the star in your specially created username, and you can't help but keep paying me attention, even though you know you shouldn't. That's how you're enamored with me.
I take up every other post because this place is quite dead, not because I'm posting any more frequently than what I've done in the past. There are no strangers here. There isn't really anyone here.
And, yet, look at you all in love with me n' stuff. It's almost cute!
Why besides misery hates happiness, failure hates success, and you're just jealous?
And, doing was indeed done! The pumpkin soup is simmering. The beet salad is chilling. The avocado dip has set. Laundry is soaking in the tub. I didn't get to the sweet potato/apple/cranberry bake nor the chocolate cake, but I am satisfied of just how much I did accomplish. Now, I'm waiting for young Mr. Grumpus to arrive.
While I wait, I'm a cozy wee bug, right now. I'm listening to Blossom Dearie jazz, and the dripping of rain from outside. I'm sipping on a wonderful Chardonnay in the perfect and spotless wine glasses I keep, because I felt I deserved it. Damn, I'm romantic as s**t, really. I'm so very proud that I'm not essentially blue about any of it. I suppose it's because even with someone, I was like this all on my own. I found this music on my own, I had this in my personality all on my own. I enjoyed it mostly all on my own. I thought I was fueled by a great love, but I wasn't. I was fueled by me under the comfort of believing that I was joined by a simpatico second and true love. The invitation to join me was there for the taking. Physically, he joined in from time to time when it was unavoidable. But, if it wasn't adopted in the heart by the one I adored above all, that's not for trying and it's truly not my fault. I suppose I enjoyed so much on my own, when I think on it. The way I internalized and processed my experiences, that was all me. I was on my own, and didn't at all know it. But, should that diminish what it all was to me? It's too bad that it wasn't shared in the soulful way that I felt it. I wanted it so much, I was certain I had it. But, in the end, the truth is here to slap me in the face. However, in its soul, it's all still alive and if everything else was an illusion, the proof in the eventual pudding is that my experiences with him were not dependent on him. They were mine, and still are. It would be nice to share the romance with someone true, granted, but it's truly okay that its not. It's not my loss. Someone else is losing out, and I'm enjoying. I'm so glad that I can, and that I made this happen for myself. Do you know how easy and natural it is for me to do the opposite? To wallow, to melodramatize, to take to misery? I had to fight all of my natural urges to enjoy what I am, all on my own, right now. Yeah, I'm really proud of myself for this.
It likely wasn't the fire, in this instance. It had been already started for over an hour (way after the smokey part and roaring fire had died, and when the flames were died down to cooking embers too, mind you), and it was clear skies until the planes started passing en masse, visibly leaving their trails or streams. Not that you don't have an excellent logical point, but in this instance, and maybe you had to be there to witness it, it was sort of undeniable that the planes were the correlating factor.
Although I'm exceptionally gullible in general and relatively dumb about such things, and Derek isn't as smart as he thinks he is, I at least trust Derek's knowledge via vast experience as he grew up on campfires and stargazing in the remote wild enough that he'd know the difference between light or smoke or cloud interference and something else he's not otherwise used to. This was something that he's not otherwise used to.
Oh, f**k off.
Just, f**k right off.
Stupid POS sex. Was feeling hot the night before, even all day yesterday. But, you fell asleep on me last night, and this morning, you just wanted to start ramming as soon as wake me up. With complete dragon breath and five minutes to spare before we go? I DID say "I'm not doing this, I'm not even a little bit aroused, and it's only just going to make for painful sex". So, I tried to stand up for myself. What happens after that? LOL! A complete display of how ignorant you are after all this time to what I like. Start kissing my nipples, start BITING my nipples. Sort of fumbling with kissing around my chest. Pathetic. I know I've told you once, so I've probably told you multiple times, the boobs do nothing for me, nothing at all. They only do something for YOU. But, why would you remember something that doesn't matter or isn't important to you? Right? So, I stopped that crap so I wouldn't have to endure anymore additional pain, and just let you go ahead and screw me anyways, re-tearing whatever may have already healed, internally.
You suck, kid. You truly suck. Everything else is kinda awesome about us, otherwise having great visits, lots of pets and affection, but this bedstuff is a mess.
You know it! The more goobery and slobbery, the better. First last night, then again this morning.
Yeah, because I've been real stingy with the whole going-down-on-you-multiple-times-a-day-on-my-own-accord thing. Right. Yeah, that's just reserved for cute alpha douchebags, sorry.
And for the blow jobs and massages that no one else can do better. Yeah, I know.
Statement makes no sense. If no one cared about me, they also wouldn't care if I were dead, either. If everyone wishes me dead, then everyone cares about me.
But, I see why you might. You must have graced me with such stupidity in the past and I called your arse out on it similarly. You care enough to create an alt dedicated to me. You care about me quite a bit.
That's very sweet. Thank-you, and you're welcome. Do well, be happy.