I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,
but if the white runs out I’ll drink the red.
As old and as cynical as I am, this song, at this time of year, can still bring a tear to my eye. It reminds me of Christmases past, and gives me hope for Christmases still to come.
Please listen joyously.
Snoopy always seems to have a white Christmas…..
to love and to be loved is the ultimate,
but to love without being loved back is the truth.
If I said I had met both the Clintons, and that I liked him but didn’t like her, might either suggest that I lacked taste, or that I once moved in some exalted circles. Well, maybe I did both. I got used to turning left when got on the aircraft, having hotel receptionists know who I was without asking, and having bartenders mix my drink without me having to say it was a vodka martini. Fuck! just how pretentious was that?
The trappings of success are seductive, money makes life much easier than it is for the less well off, and it seems that successful men attract better looking women than do the average office drone. And, take it from me, when it comes to looking good most of what I had was clothes and charisma.
The circles I worked in, attracting top dollar, were filled with very attractive, well-dressed good looking women and men who could have had a career in Hollywood. And there was I, a product of the post-war depression that gripped England. Low calorie, vitamin deficient, crap medical care, and non existent dentistry. We were a nation of short, maladjusted, angry, troglodyte, geniuses.
Among a nation of pretty brilliant, if mal-adjusted guys, I was in the upper quartile, at the far end of the bell-curve. And that’s a hard place to live your life. In England, at the time, being the top scholar in a grammar school just got you beaten up. Ergo the smarter guys hid their lights under a bushel.
Then the worst thing imaginable happened. Valerie Nelson, the prettiest, nicest, most attractive girl in my year had an obvious crush on me. Valerie came from money, she was always suntanned in a town where the sun was always hidden behind the dirty cloud from the coke works. She holidayed in Kenya, whereas I spent a week in Whitby. She had a manicure and I bit my nails.
I’d like to say that the story had a happy ending.
I was her Quasimodo and she was my Esmeralda. There was a sexual incident. That was the first time I knew I could be dangerously violent.
It broke her heart when I walked away.
I may get over her one day. I may spend the rest of my life trying.
Paris is Burning
both porn and the church distort man’s perspective on women
I like pornography, most especially on the boundaries of where art becomes porn.
All healthy men like porn. A man who says otherwise is most probably a liar or sick. From personal experience I know that women like pornography too. But there are limits. Just as in real life there are some things that an honourable man will not do, in pornography there are some places I will not go. Some people like pornography that would get them arrested in real life.
However, the whole thing about porn is that it lets people explore stuff outside of their everyday lives. I have a friend who likes dog porn I’m more than certain she would not have sex with a dog but she gets off on watching other women being mounted. Or maybe she is more than friends with her Labrador. The whole thing gets very blurred. Dog porn and animal porn also have their own communities and websites. k9dating.com
I also know that my very best friend watched porn with her partner when their relationship was jaded. I have no idea what kind of porn that was. It sort of doesn’t matter because then she went far beyond porn and fucked a lot of younger men, and he is very dead.
For porn comes in many flavours and colours. Some is hard, and touches the extremes of human behaviour. The porn I watch is very soft, and is called glamour porn. Mostly you would get far more erotic in a strip joint in Carson City.
Just because you are reading this I know you have used internet porn. Which is cool. If you continually wank off over porn that is not so cool.
When I was so sick with pneumonia I wanted to die I had internet porn playing on my TV all the time. I was too ill to react.
But, do I use porn now?
No. I don’t believe that watching porn is healthy. And I also believe it objectifies women.
I’d watch porn with you. But not on my own.
Some say that all women are sluts. And that a married woman is a whore trying to find a way to escape. All I know is that a good guy has some limits.
Danica Collins used to do soft porn
Life is like sailing, you can use any wind to go in any direction
scattered like butterflies
under grey autumn skies
reflected and mirrored
haze shimmered and silvered
riding the send of the sea
against a rising tide
ignoring our dreams
our plans and schemes
the sea has a life of it’s own
seems we can’t have it all
for I’m I’m no Bogy
and sadly you’re no Bacall
this is not Key Largo
I must go down to the sea again
the key to life is accepting challenges
once someone stops doing this, he’s dead
I was always a precocious child; I developed abilities and inclinations at a much earlier age that was usual or expected of me.
Everybody has kindness in their eyes. Except some people.
Please listen responsibly.
life is a sexual jest
and her eyes show it
women go where they find sincerity, authenticity, and masculinity
calmness and serenity
manners decorum dignity
mindfulness resolve nobility
decisiveness determined sobriety
illnesses disorder recovery adaptability
finally sincerity strength courage reliability
why are all the very cool guys fictional?
nobility is not being better than anyone else,
it’s being better than you used to be
I wanted more
than just to adore her
she could see
it was all about me
there was no nobility
in my lust and desire
I was no better a man
than I used to be
just another ignoble lover
I like to believe that I’m a better man than I used to be
To truly forgive is to set a prisoner free, and discover that the prisoner was you.
Looking back, I never learned what it means to truly forgive someone. Worse than that, my morbid fear of abandonment makes it extremely difficult for me to forgive anyone I believe has / will / may betray me.
Refusing to forgive has never made me feel better about anything. All I was doing was holding on to negative feelings of upset, anger, jealousy, resentment, and a desire to somehow get even. And all that has ever done for me has been to drive me deeper into the Abyss.
Resentment and holding on to anger is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die. ~ Malachy McCourt
The worst of it is that I can become angry, resentful, jealous, paranoid, and believe that someone has betrayed me ~ when it’s really all in my own mind. I can feel abandoned and betrayed by things that a friend did in the past, maybe years before we even knew one another. The reason I am hurt may be just crazy, but the hurt is real, and the forgiveness I need to feel should be real as well.
To create even a moderately successful life I should forgive others who have hurt or offended me, even if the offence, betrayal, or hurt is really all in my own mind. I need to learn forgiveness, not because I believe someone close to me was right, or because I can forget what they have done, but because forgiving will free me mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. By forgiving I can allow myself to move on with my life ~ I can get my feet back on the warrior’s path.
Forgiving others will allow me to finally learn to trust. Honest and real forgiveness will be a part of me learning to build relationships with others, instead of always having unstable and dysfunctional relationships which usually end with one of us just walking away.
Forgiveness will release me from my self-built dungeon of extremely dark and negative feelings.
Some things I will never forgive. I will not forgive the low-life vermin who burgled my place a short while ago. Come the Revolution they will be the first up against the wall and shot.
Some say that forgiving others is weak and stupid. And that to forgive means that you weren’t actually hurt, upset, or angry in the first place. All I know is that I must forgive others for the sake of my own well-being.
with forgiveness, it can be a Wonderful Life
The real man smiles in trouble, gathers strength from distress, and grows brave by reflection.
I’m in trouble, my soul is in distress, and it’s only bravado that’s keeping me sane and sober.
Every day is a winding road, and we can never know what the end of the day and the end of the road will bring. The future and the destination are both uncertain, and sometimes all a man can do is to keep on going on. And, it seems to me that the real man doesn’t give up, just because the going gets really tough. As Churchill said sometimes we just have to ‘keep buggering on…..’
My past few years have had lots of ups and downs, but it seems that today I have really hit rock bottom, and there is no booze involved ~ I am stone cold sober. In fact I have passed through sobriety to the desolate slough of despond that lies beyond. Taking a drink would only solve the problem in so far as it would help me to forget my worries for a while. In reality, taking a drink would compound and multiply my real and perceived problems ~ and that’s not a good plan.
For a while I’ve been working towards being a better man, more worthy on body, mind, and spirit But, worthy for whom? It seems that I’ve been striving to be better every day, not just for myself, but also for someone I cared for. Trying to be the better guy for someone else is incredibly false, and it set me up for a fall. Your Goddess will never be perfect, and that presupposes that your ideal of perfection has some ultimate truth.
So, from now on I will still go on quietly working to be the superior man; in body, mind, spirit, and achievements. However, from now on I shall be doing this for myself, and never again to please another. No more lists, no more plans, just living each day to the fullest.
The strong are considered weak, and the weak are considered strong, that’s the way of the world, but it’s not the way of the spirit.
Some say that what doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. And that real character is to live each day as if it was your last. All I know is that I don’t want to live another day feeling like this.
don’t make a list
do something real instead
The worst part of holding onto the memory isn’t the pain, it’s the crushing loneliness.
Not all memories need to be bad ones ~ but then why are all my memories and dreams in out-of-focus monochrome?
this isn’t a memory
it was a nightmare.