Bundle of Irritation

Bundles of joy, they are not. My son is driving me nuts today - though it is not the first time; and I know he is driving Sofie nuts too, she is holding it together; less visibly annoyed than I. I want to sleep, I'm tired - but he wants to play and run around (can't fault him for being a healthy child). But seriously, what the fuck. Have you ever heard the sound of finger nails on a chalk board - yeah, he's that irritating today.

I went to the bathroom and he followed me - fine, I was trying to urinate and he placed his hand on the toilet bowl; J don't do that - he stopped (and gave me that pseudo innocent look - you know the one; it means I'm just prepping for the real mischief); I began to urinate, and the minute it came down he shoved his hand in the stream of my piss (Piss-interrupted; midstream) . Did I tell you at that point I wanted to smack him (that child has taught me some patience) - but instead I yelled (I know I should not have - but it was my first reaction) at him and he took off crying to his mother.

Don't get me wrong, he doesn't always piss me off, sometimes he brings joy, a joy that I have not found words to describe - where I just look at him and grin like at idiot; but other times he grates on my last vein. I'm less patient than Sofie (it's either that or she pretends better), and she too gets to her point of frustration; but she holds it together. Today my bundle of joy is not such a bundle - because he won't allow me to sleep; he is buzzing around like an annoying mosquito in your ear that won't go away despite your many attempts to squat it.

Release

Mouths open widely, but no words are spoken 

Eyes wide shut, the future is certain 

Nostrils flare, the breathing hastens 

Skin is flush, the heart beats are racing 

Muscles now tense, urgently waiting 

Sweat dripping, bodies moving 

Bed sheets grabbing, loins pulsing 

Sound escaping, obscenities spoken 

Climax is reaching 

Moans, grunting, the beast unleashing 

Ecstasy releasing

Ohhhhh Shit! Baby, baby, baby, I'm cumming

Monster girl

You feel is love dat dere

What de fuck

You're just another cut

You get a fuck and now you stuck

You feel is love dat dere

What de fuck

You walked on by, everything look right

I was curious to examine your size

My boy, is not love dat dere

It's just a cut

Your swagger your style, the way you smile

I could not let that pass me by

Doh feel is love dat dere

What de fuck

I only wanted to cut

The way you move, the way you groove

Just sought of put me in the mood

To feel your chest against my breast

My hips and yours they dare not rest

Becoming one, until I cum

And then my boy, we are done

But you thought was love that was dere

Oh Fuck

I only wanted a good cut

Your mysterious allure, I longed to explore

What's at your core, I prefer ignore

Can you work that thing the way you whyne

I'm not interested in making you mine

But you thought that was love

No pal, you block

All I wanted was some cock

Don't need your money, I have my own

I'm not one of those hungry girls

Can you rock my world, make my toes curl

Leave me thinking, I've found a pearl

But no, you thought was love

How is me, what the fuck

Boy shut your mouth and pass da cock

These words she said rocked his core

This macho man's ego now bruised and sore

Some how this time he wanted more,

Than just another girl he scored

Aa, you feel is love dat dere

What de fuck

Baby, you were just a good fuck

Forward Ever

This feeling of distress can't be permanent, much like this inclement weather; it to will pass. The clouds of disappointment and defeat will break and the rays of hope and the prospect of a brighter day shine through.Yeah, falling is easy, it's the getting up part that sometimes proves difficult. But I don't like the view from down here - I'm meant to prosper, to be free, strong, determined like the fowl of the air. So, whatever it takes I will pick myself up, dust myself off and press on. The day is already looking brighter - I just need to change my view.

Disappointed

Every disappointment is a blessing they say - over the years I have tried to convince myself of that saying; but at times I find it difficult to see the blessing that has came from my disappointment. Disappointment to me is a by product of expectations, and I have often said that the best way to avoid disappointment from people is to have little or no expectations of them. However, the same can not be said for oneself. How do you live your life - at least meaningfully, if you have little or no expectations of yourself; and when you do have high expectations of yourself and you fall short of that expectation - what then.

Do you beat up on yourself? Do you say, well what did you expect - do you engage in the otherwise negative emotions and comments that would follow if it were some one else who did not live up to your expectations. Self loathing and doubt is destructive, but one can't help feel like shit when you let yourself down - it's difficult not to feel inadequate. Today, I feel like shit, inadequate and extremely disappointed in myself. I am sitting here hoping this feeling will pass; but it's taking its sweet time. I can not afford the time to sulk - but I do not at this point have the motivation, will power or fortitude to pick my chin up off the floor and press on ahead.

I'm hoping by the graces of the north wind this blessing will materialise - yes, I am relegated to the point of pinning my deliverance from this crappy feeling on the north wind, so distressed am I. Perhaps after a good nights rest, I will wake up re-energised and focused on the way forward from my latest disappointment. Time waits for no man, and I do not have time to feel like this.

No Subject

Every time you call me it puts a smile on my face
I am happy that we are in this space, this place
Where yesterday is almost forgotten
And past transgressions are forgiven
Where together we can grow
And look forward to tomorrow
Where we can say I love you
And reciprocate I love you too.

Silver Lining

The hemorrhaging has ceased, no longer am I on that emotional roller coaster, running into the seemingly growing and shrinking hurdles of my consternation and no longer is the wall of my emotional recession up - what is left of all that are memories of a darker time. Brighter clouds are over head and the rain has dissipated - and with bended knees, hands held high, I whisper a quiet thank you to the north wind for making it through this storm. I look back on some of my blog postings and sometimes smile - but it is not a smile of joy but one of wonder; wonder that I harbored such ill feelings . I sometimes read them and in amazement think to myself - you wrote that shit, what the fuck were you thinking; rather feeling.

Almost six months later I'm here with a different outlook on things and the more menacing, bitter, angry version of me finally in repose. A lot can be said for the therapeutic benefits of venting. As I sit here typing, Schizophrenic Conversations by Staind is playing in the back ground and it is so ironic to me that I had many such conversations over the last few months not realising that I was slowly losing my mind to rancor. Thankfully I was able to find all the constituent parts of my mind in time to keep it from becoming permanently lost to a vessel of misery.

Happiness is truly relative to your state of disillusionment or perhaps perception at that point in time in your life. Ultimately it would seem that a state of happiness is trail and error and changes much like the weather. That being said, at this point in my life - I'm in a good space, I'm happy; so until somebody pisses me off or I have an experience which puts me in a less than happy space - there will be no further dark postings from me. Just musings of the things that bring me pleasure in this short life I call my own and I may be to busy enjoying them to even bother posting about them.