The Culture that has been here all the time

I have changed my mind: I want a dominant woman. Why? Because then I will know exactly how to please her. No assumptions. No guessing. She will tell me and command me, and I will comply.

Only one contrary point stands in the way. I am inclined to deal with "my stuff" here, including my house and car, until I decide their fate. This includes my desire to shed as much of my accumulated stuff as I can. Even to the point of renting a dumpster.

My only hope is this: If I respond to her wishes and commands, will she love me? MY PRIORITY? I DON'T WANT TO LIVE ALONE.

I updated my Morning Post. Now, I am one step closer to being a working artist once more. I have my business cards and am about to start a website, but what I need most is a companion muse who is also an artist, so we can encourage one another.

When looking for something fails, it cranks up my anxiety. I can't seem to shake it today. My cat and dog tried, but to no avail. When anxiety flares up at this level, and nothing seems to quench it, it generates the stark picture of a lonely life. A comforting embrace would go a long way, but it is missing, and it's something I can not buy.

A wise black woman I knew a half-century ago often counseled me on my way of thinking. Her simple question was so thought-provoking that I have never forgotten her words, "What does what you are thinking (or believing) have to do with that?" Sometimes she paraphrased it to fit a situation. How she became an impromptu counselor, I do not recall.

The situation was when I was in an emotionally dark place, and the information I had available to me was scarce and often inaccurate, so my mind, being so intensely active, filled all the blanks, and as many of you know from my blog, that is not good because I chose to see things in a negative light.

The missing solution then and now is the same: a warm, comforting embrace. Since I communicate most effectively with human touch, offering and receiving, and I am living in what may be the darkest cave of my life. If only I had just one candle offered to me. images pixabay

UPDATE: I found dozens of my paintings in my self-storage unit. My anxiety dropped very well. I will sleep much better tonight. Also, I will go over my new website notes before I build it; the first step will establish it, and the second step later will offer my artwork for sale again.

Many of you know I have been anything but happy-go-lucky ^1, and I am afraid it is getting worse. Direct words can mask what's going on inside. I must admit the negative attitude is the most profound I have ever experienced. No mystery, not having nearby friends, family, or a companion; my mind fills with negative words, and, unlike in most of my past life, there is no one here to say things will get better. I only get periodic "cheer up," this will pass if anyone bothers to speak to me at all.

My dog is not too bad, but my cat demands that he help me restring my guitar, though I have told him the strings are not edible. If they could speak to me in English, Polish, Spanish, or even Russian, I would be able to learn about their thoughts. Last week, I learned in my cat language class on YouTube that I have been doing it all wrong. Cats only stare when they are ready to fight. I learned that I am supposed to squint and glance away. I can imagine he thinks I am such a duffas.

Have you ever lost your anchor, drifting on a large body of water, then broken an ore? Then, did you make a sale with a shirt and a windbreaker? I was even rescued by the coast guard twice. What do I do now? Stay on the shore and remain a land lover. This is how my life seems to be now, I must buy an app to make my cell phone a compass and see if that helps me navigate. Pixabay image:

1 Battled clinical depression all my life and was only diagnosed as bipolar about five years ago; eight years as my wife's only full-time caregiver took its toll, too.

Maybe one morning I will awaken to find that I have a new woman in my life, and we are both in love. It could be that after sixty years of having a lover, I am now addicted to love. Absolutely not the worst addiction. Loving sex as part of it is superior to being addicted to sex. I defeated several challenges in my life, such as cigarettes and alcoholic beverages, but I never equate my desire for love as purely lust, so I will not wean myself from love. 

Dear and lovely companion, wherever you are, Good morning. Your smile would brighten a rainy morning if you were here. I am about to make coffee and breakfast. Is there anything special you want? Though the sky is grey and the street wet, crocuses and daffodils are blooming. The Forsythia's yellow buds are more obvious this morning. Maybe this is the day we shall meet. (all pixabay)