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!”.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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?