Half Life

This has not been a good winter. The weather here has been non stop cold and tempestuous. For the first time in memory I am so ready for spring. And my emotional and mental state ought to be quite fragile. My whole world has been assaulted from every front. And yet I am holding up well. Too well I’d say.

Despite all the sadness to come my way recently, there have been no tears. None. Barely a fight to even stop any welling. I am serene almost. And I’m no Buddhist. And I don’t sleep. This is not my way. Perhaps it was the preparation. Or past history. Somehow I have buried all the wrenching raw feelings I should have in some far away locked-down recess of my mind. Apparently not even I have the key. Personal sorrow earlier I took in stride. Like it was an everyday occurrence.

The day my plane should have left, it barely registered on me. It was just not going to happen. That’s just how it is, and let’s move on.

All this raw emotion is buried deep in personal bedrock like waste radioactive nuclear fuel. I wonder what its half life is?

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I Saw Her Recently

I saw her a few evenings ago. The first time in almost two weeks. Sometimes I can forget how breathlessly beautiful she is. With her lithe body. Her slim muscular legs. And an ass that is so tight I think a quarter would bounce back into my hand if I dropped one on it.

I watched her deep chestnut eyes drink me in and swallow as I approached. I enjoyed that.  Seeing her face light up with that killer smile, knowing she missed me and I had already made her evening. And how she couldn’t stop talking she was so excited.

I’m going to have to give her more attention.

I Try

I love you. That I know. But the excitement is gone. As we lie beside each other, I feel nothing. My mind does try. But the physical does not respond.

Seducing Annie (1)

I was recently thinking fondly about Annie, a past lover. I met Annie many years ago at a convention where English was not readily spoken. Several of my colleagues and I were out on the town very late, and as we returned to the hotel, walking past the front desk, I noticed this very attractive woman behind the counter. She was smiling at us as we passed.

I stopped in my tracks, arrested by her beauty. Brunette with short hair, roundish face, dark eyes, a beauty spot on her lower cheek, and sumptuous figure.  In my less than perfect foreign language I began, aided by 7 or 8 drinks in my belly, the flirtation. My colleagues bid me good night and, with a chuckle, good luck.

Each time I ventured with a new verbal advance, she smiled sweetly, parried and shook her head. After 2 hours, even to my muddled brain, I was getting nowhere. Beyond being her late night entertainment of course.

But the dance continued. Never say I give up easily. Then, precisely at 7:03 am, she smiled once more, said good-bye, and up and left. It was time to go home.

It was time for me to go to bed.

Who’ll Stop The Rain?

Will you? Will it be me? I wish I knew

Storm Clouds

You make every atom in my being

Come alive

In your brilliant sunshine.

How can I begin to contemplate

The storm clouds

Gathering from afar?

Would I know the fierce rain  to come might

Wash away love

I can not live without?

Neil Has a Point

I’m kind of looking at what I write here in a Neil Young frame of mind.

The thing about my music is, there really is no point.

And Here We Go …

I intend on conversing with myself on this blog. There are no expectations of wider readership.

I am in continuous debate with myself. Everything and everyone I see, I experience, I think about, sparks an internal debate. God I hate that! Is that what (usually) she really means?  Am I getting it right?

There will probably be lots of posts about Cassandra. I’m involved with Cassandra. She haunts me.   But more on her later.

So this is a good start