There is One, But Only One

How Do I know?

What I got to do to make you love me?

What I got to do to make you love me?

The budgie on my shoulder told me so, “There is One, But Only One.”. The budgie is a ‘she’ and very cheeky…loves my ear and nibbles in sharp bites. So is my lover! I believe the budgie is no budgie at all, but a secret whisperer.I am the horse and I want to live in the stable of two, and ‘she’ knows this and whispers as she bites my ear.

 Make me Special

She tells me that to speak of past lovers and passed wives is to place us in a box as ‘done and dusted’. Never dust a love, she says. No memory is forgotten. No one is only one. Make me special, she says and I feel her on my shoulder, this tiny wisp of a thing, as something of significance, a weight I cannot avoid.

you are my love

You are special, I reply. I lift you from the box and place you in the pulse of my heart, bright and charming, forever the first of my life lines. You are there for me, not to save the flesh and blood of me, but to save my soul. I am drowning in a sea where no one else will swim. They say I dived in by choice; I say I was led, and I wanted you to be my leader.

Dreaming is not for Everyone

As a teenager I read the book “Siddhartha” and ever since I believed that life is a journey and along the way you meet your teachers; one for intelligence; one for wisdom; one for sex; one for love….and so on. I am now in the company of “one for solitude.” Maybe, I have to learn to love myself? Maybe, that is my one lover? And if I disobey the teacher and continue to dream of a lover, I mess in the plans of the gods.

Oh Dear!

The devious little rat that I am, I have a plan; I will invite my earth love to meet me, in a dream of course, and spirit her away to a far distant planet in the Universe, where not even the diligent gods of my purpose can find us. There we will live happily ever after…until…

(to be continued)

"Dear Mayme, I love you" sheet music...

“I love you”

;

Dear

Dear Me

    Lover I Don't Have to Love

There is NOT a Single Woman

The Wanderer above a sea of fog by Caspar Davi...

The Wanderer

one man

I have searched for many years and have come to this conclusion; “there is not a single woman in this Universe meant for me.” I am not being cynical or negative. I am being honest. I am also being real, and I am not a realist. I am a Romantic Adventurer. I was married once. I have had lovers; I even lived with a woman, but none have lasted, and the issue is always the same.

 

I am a selfextreming man

My creative energy is my driving force. I forfeit security for passion. I accept the consequences of failure and will not allow myself to stagnate. I am a man of dynamic action and will take the risk over and above the safety of doing nothing. And underpinning all of that is my honesty. I will not bullshit myself into believing something that I am not. When criticized I face the issue and readjust.

 I am also domesticated

I know where the sand box is; clean is a pillar of my mind; I am intense, coming from a long line of fox terrier blood; once I have a hold I never let go. That goes for love too. I am also self-centred; I love myself; I have worked hard to be as perfect as possible. But I am not egocentric. My ego is the lesser part of me. My heart rules and I trust my heart.

That is why  no woman on planet earth is meant for me

Imagine living with such a person. There is no escape. All the women in my life have said the same thing; you don’t have to tell the whole truth; tell only the smaller part without giving yourself away by saying too much. Oh! And a little lie is quite acceptable, after all, none of us are perfect. Except your father. He pays the bills so we cut him a bit of slack..

WOMEN ARE A MATERIAL FACTOR

They have to be; they bare the children and with it the responsibility of providing for their growth. Pain brings the provisions. Creativity brings disaster, and true love is an illusion found only in dreams and soft covered books. They dare not look aside; on each side there is only the abyss, and the measure of happiness allotted to them is sufficient to keep their eyes on their feet, one step in front of the other, until death us do part.

Of Course, this is all rubbish

Each of us lives life according to our understanding of the design of its purpose, but there comes a time when we break out of our self-imposed imprisonment and fly…but fly where….into what? Fly into loneliness and despair; fly into the smallest measure of our creative worth; or fly into the abyss.

There is not One 

I look left and I look right. I see a few men, many goats and many more beetles and bugs. Not a single woman. Oh! There comes one…nope, she’s clinging to the trunk of a tree near the top of the ridge. Now some one is pulling her up. It’s her son. Good boy. That’s love.

I DARE YOU TO LET GO.

If you comment you are entering the debate. If you bitch you are just making yourself heard, and all of us deserve to be heard, especially our true self. That is what our creative energy is; a window to the soul. The trouble is the soul may say “More, please!”.

Naughty Soul.

Are you naughty? I bet not. There are only naughty girls in porn and none in the free Universe. I’ve been there. Now I am back, and I did not leave anyone behind.

Quick Reference:

Your guide to living a FAB life

sassy blog; great energy and loads of information; all safely tucked into the material.

The Battered Woman’s Survival Guide: Breaking the Cycle, By Jan Berliner Statman

EVERYTHING’S AN ILLUSION

Lauren has a passion for her closet. She absolutely loves shopping and will never pass up a sweet treat. Lauren loves adventure and to truly see the world.

Traditionally

regarded as the domain of men, now the midlife crisis is being reported with increasing frequency among women. Sue Shellenbarger shows us how today’s women are changing course in search of greater fulfillment Shellenbarger reveals an entire generation who are experiencing this tumultuous transition to midlife and brushing aside stereotypes along the way.

 A MIND NEVER DORMANT

The great thing about being a feisty woman is that you feel your own heart strong and throbbing and you don’t need to ask permission to speak, to dream, to act.

Midlife Crisis (song)

A song

I should delete this “song” but there is something about “every side of the coin” saying “maybe shit is feisty too”. I know beauty is imperfect…and who knows where expression can take us? Around the world in eighty days maybe! How about, a trip to Casablanca?