I was settling into a comfortable mood inside my shell, which is inside my cave, when I discovered a pair of eyes in the back where my cave is at its darkest. Now what? Who are you? What are you? Are you friendly!?
pixabay.comMy room is a shell inside my cave. Maybe it is because I have always been too sensitive and had to use my creativity to offset my total mistrust for humanity, or perhaps I have an emotionally damaged personality as a result of numerous childhood traumas. Nevertheless, misanthropy has been the most dominant characteristic of my life. My wife, who is now cognitively impaired, can not help me as she always has by getting me out of that dark place. I live in the fortress called the internet or World Wide Web to keep me safe now that I have been scammed and know better. I can still create, even if I can not paint or write songs, I can write some prose and even some poetry. Most of you will not detect any change since I have always been in this war within myself, and trusting people has truly never been harder for me.
Email pal like a pen pal of old: Nadia
Nadia and I exchanged explicit emails for several weeks. She told me about all her fantasies and I told her about mine. We seemed to have a wonderful cyber affair. I even wrote an allegory about her. She said she was from Odessa and fled the war, leaving her son and divorced husband, who she claimed bought their way out of the Ukrainian draft. If I wanted to see unpublished war damage photos that she had, she would share them.
The last email she wrote was telling me she wanted to save her money and come from California for a vacation with me. Her interest in BDSM grew, and she looked forward to my tying her up in a chair and playing games.
She never arrived. I suspect she wasn't in California and may have been in Ukraine.
Ukrainian women who engage the Russians in combat amaze me with their courage and skill. Bravo, wonderful heroes all. "Budmo" (бу́дмо). To realize that some US leaders avoided the draft.
news photo
Here is a song that says it all from the time I was growing up:
Yes, I miss a lover teasing me, edging until we both are ready to explode. At this point, I would try being a submissive guy. Yes, I am having a horney day, so I must get over it. My tongue is restless and it wants to lick and poke my lips want to suck on nipples and a clit. I do not really get satisfied with porn or even masturbation (science indicates it can't compare to the chemistry of real sex).
Don't worry, I won't sneak off and leave my sleeping wife alone. If only there was a way to repair her brain, so we could go back to the way we made love for decades. pixabay.com
After two mind transmissions, I received a message back that contained this image.
MESSAGE:
These are things I miss and have missed now for several years: Sitting down for our evening meal, talking about the day and our plans for tomorrow. Having breakfast together. Having Lunch together. These are important times within a normal relationship that, for me, are gone (probably gone forever).
No one can tell me things will get better. There is no getting better. I have no expectations of things getting better.
I have to write this and say this to put my life into reality and not pretend with false hope.
I have decided to transmit mental waves when I get up in the morning and just as I fall asleep at night. Now we will see if anyone has received my signals on my wavelength and answers me. I wonder if I can reach aliens somewhere out in the cosmos?
pixabay.com image.I Used to be a Good Cook: In 2005, I almost died because a doctor diagnosed asthma, but I had idiopathic congestive heart failure. I was on a heart transplant list for five years with three Cardiologists. I worked with them, researched and chose my meds with their help, and prepared all my food from scratch. I recovered and now have an almost normal heart for a seventy-seven-year-old man. I no longer do much cooking from scratch for myself but I do some for my wife, who has IBS (under control).
I dislike eating alone, but my wife needs attention when she eats, so I eat separately. I mostly nibble. I now take the easy way out: microwave foods and prepared supermarket food. I vary the choices to keep it interesting. I just don't have the time or patience to cook from scratch these days. My heart is OK.
