And the crow called the raven black
And he was far too certain of himself.
Some say that only a geordie boy is a real man. And that whoever wants to relax in the south is a wanker. All I know is that it gets cold in the sunshine here.
where the crow commands the captive must obey
Self-censorship is a lie to yourself;
one should never be afraid to say what you think.
I am a firm believer in not allowing the approval, or disapproval, of others to influence what one believes, thinks, says, writes, or does. I am also a liar, because today, yesterday, and for a few days / weeks / months before that I have not been true to my own beliefs.
My lies to you all are lies of omission, in that I am not prepared to tell you the whole truth about some things, and I am not prepared to tell you anything at all about some other things, and there are some things I will just completely deny. It seems that everyone has dark secrets, and everyone lies without thought.
As this is by way of a confessional I will tell you why I’m making this admission.
Today I was going to publish one of a few completed posts that I have just decided I shall never publish. These included;
- Sex, Lust, and Whores. Most women sell sex; most of them just don’t take money from everyone who wants them.
- Masturbation and Fetishes. Only boys masturbate, or so the myth goes, because a woman touching herself is immoral.
- Love Wars. Love and war, it seems, work by exactly the same rules.
- Goddess of Sexual Love. Sexual love is powerful, it can bring women to their knees.
- Casual Sex and Immorality. In an imperfect world you could fuck anyone and everyone without thinking about the consequences.
All the above posts I’ve irrevocably put into my trash were of a highly sexual nature, impinging upon the real truths of most interpersonal relationships.
The face is the mirror of the mind, and the eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart. ~ St. Jerome.
Some say that evaluation of the truth is not an absolute, but a matter of piecing together bits of information to form a picture. And that most people’s idea of the truth is based on their preconceived ideas and prejudices. All know is that, sometimes, the real truth is best left unsaid.
the most common fetishes are depicted here
smoking, heels, stockings, submission, mystery, mastery
She was Purgatory incarnate, promising Heaven and delivering Hell
every time I go back there is the same as the one before
every journey has me wondering why I desire her more
her hot breath of adoration a mere promise of scorn
Goddess of love incarnate, and yet she is a whore
beautiful, mysterious, wild and free
gods and men have enjoyed thee
God may be in the details but the goddess is in the questions.
Once we begin to ask them, there is no turning back.
who comprehends her sexuality
call her Aphrodite, Hathor, or Venus
she is carnal love incarnate
I have come to believe that the shape of the Earth cannot be proven. ~ Albert Einstein
Following on from my post earlier in the week about self-deluded people who believe in a flat Earth, here’s a song about a woman who seems to believe that the Earth isn’t round.
When it comes to believing in very strange theories, it’s almost always a woman.
Please listen responsibly.
well, there you go
the Earth is round, after all
Life is for living, and I intend to live it with all my heart and soul.
Some will say “how much does that cost”
Some people are obsessed by numbers.
This post marks a milestone in that it’s the number 1111 post I’ve published.
It seems that the angel number 1111 represents a gateway between realms, and a sign that angels are nearby. I’m not certain that I’ve really understood the reality of angels, since my early years were pretty much dominated by a repressive Methodist view of God, religion, and angels. Any mention of the power of numbers would have warranted a swift clip around the ear.
Our very early years can completely distort our view of life, particularly if there’s a church and money involved.
Numbers have power beyond the strictly mathematical, financial, and physical realms. Allegedly the number 1111 opens an energy doorway which will allow us to turn our wishes, needs, wants, and desires into reality.
Eleven ~ Eleven is one of the numbers that have special meaning to me; the others are 28, and 42. Why? I have no idea, but these numbers keep coming up in my life, over and over again.
It’s interesting to know that, whenever I’ve thought about writing this post, something mundane has happened to distract my train of thought. And, that whenever I’ve tried to write this post something has happened to stop me; my internet fell over, this pc crashed, I was blocked from access to Google, WordPress wouldn’t accept my logon id….. Spooky.
Don’t ever believe that what we see is all there is
Some say that we should expect little miracles and coincidences to happen in our lives. And that these miracles and coincidences represent a rebirth of our spirit. All I know is that I could do with angel-dust right now.
Allegedly, this picture is faked
The eyes are the windows to the soul. ~ Shakespeare.
In what distant deeps or skies
burned the fire of thine eyes
you have fallen, deep and wide, into her exotic eyes
with promises blue and wide as distant skies
and so you drown, in her lovely lies
some women would love to have those eyes
Legend has it there is always a reason why two souls meet. ~ N.R. Hart
The tale of Beauty and the Beast is an allegory which has as much relevance today as it did when it was written in 1740, in French. (La Belle et le Bête) In fact this tale is just a retelling of many earlier stories that go back at least as far as 4,000 years ago.
In the tale a beautiful and kind young woman, we shall call Belle, is forced to live with a real Beast, (of some description, or type of wolf, or mythical creature, or bull), who constantly wants to have sex with Belle ~ which she not unnaturally refuses, (that would be real bestiality).
It transpires that the Beast is as rich as any King.
Money is power. Power is an aphrodisiac. ~ Felix Dennis
However, after spending several months in the lap of absolute luxury, being treated like a princess by the Beast and his servants, having her every whim catered for, and with an endless wardrobe of gorgeous clothes, shoes, and jewelry to wear, the beautiful young Belle finds an excuse to abandon the beast. (For multifarious reasons, including a young, handsome lover ~ depending on which version of the tale you are reading).
Lost in his unrequited love for Belle, the Beast sickens in body, mind and spirit ~ isolates himself in some garret, or cave, or tower, and prepares to die.
After a while, wracked by guilt, or bored with her younger lover, or broke, Belle goes back to the Beast, finding the heartbroken monster in a terrible state. Playing the dutiful partner, Belle nurses the Beast back to health, and they both return to their previous glittering lifestyle.
Even today, almost this exact same scenario is played out time and time again when a beautiful, exotic young woman dates / has a relationship with / marries some pretty ordinary looking / ugly much older man ~ and he will be fucking wealthy.
They seldom live happily ever after.
I’ll give you one example, the horrible Bernie Ecclestone, (the billionaire ex-head of F1 motor racing), and his then wife gorgeous, much taller, Tamara.
If money goes before, all ways do lie open. ~ Shakespeare
Some say that money can’t buy you love. And, that a sexually mature woman will want your love, time, attention, and money. All I know is that enough money changes everything.
every good girl has a bad girl streak
it just depends if he can awaken her beast
She who is possessed by carnal desire for the serpent is lost.
Dawn, and smell the sulpher from the dragon’s breath as she purred
Her Life is a journey of imagined adventures, so lie back and enjoy the ride
Eat a marijuana cookie explore the inner Cosmos to see the rainbow serpent
Experimenting playing with psychedelic substances has always been her forte
Smiling as she watches the kaleidoscopic mordant rainbows melt and change
Reality is an illusion, real life is what she thinks in the strange deranged moment
No angels in bright, white raiment there, only darkly amorous vampyres play
At night, cats are black, vampyres are dark, except for the ones you mirror watched
Lazily, indolently, intoxicated, she dallied with a dulcimer as my heart was shattered
Venus was breaking, creating lust; then she said with laciviousness falsely enamored ~
if you want to prove your love, then bring me the head of the mirrored dragon
Or dead red roses in the hard midnight rain
Why think rationally? Common sense never had fair maiden
and fear never won the day
Neither in her canopied bed, nor even at the dismal end of a misted swamp
Bitter better man never gets chance to play with carnal women and absinthe
She’s beautifully dangerous, I desire her this moonlit night, and she is not patient
There are never certainties, nothing a man can ever trust, there is only useful myth
It could be worse, if the iron dice roll, may the Goddess help me
When she fails, take me back to Liars Bar again, finally
a vampyre will always bite
dragons burns, and women lie
et une belle biche, elle est gratuit