One Night Variable 6 to 7

Irish Sea Variable 2 to 4, becoming southeast 4 or 5, occasionally 6 later. The room felt cold and damp and hot at the same time. A bit of a shiver ran down his back. The night air flowed in.
She lay on her back, her feet facing his chin: one leg over the side of his body the other resting on his chest. They ended on the

Continue reading “One Night Variable 6 to 7”

Sleep is temporary death time -being dead is time entwined eternally

She knew death temporarily waking up after her hip operation-a knee operation-a broken pelvis-she was knocked unconscious at least 5 times.

She also knew she was booked for a 2nd hip op in June.

 

Gutenberg Doing My Knowing In Game nearly Over
Gutenberg Doing My Knowing In Game nearly Over

 

She had been in oblivion a place no one knows but being there is silence. It is not categorisible it is beyond comprehension and human knowing-somewhere but where is where-a black hole a subsumption of all the external and informational-it is unknown.

These temporary timeouts are to the wander lustre a place beyond all cognition and recognition.

When she would become conscious after these time lapses her surroundings were frightening-the air-the lights-the colours-the people-the world.

There was an inner cry for release, but it was always imprisonment. Shackled to the earth’s time bomb.

Why do people fear death it can’t be bad or good it is silence. Endless. Over. Timeless.

It is the living who cannot face the death of another. This right to be forever. The expectancy of the living to control life in a never ending prevention-delay-deny-hinder-obstruct an others excursion to uncharted fateful destinies.

And it certainly cannot be worse than this hell hole she thought.

14 long years here-what exactly was her purpose did she need 1 no-did she have 1 no-pulled and pushed-force fed-depressed-oppressed-suppressed-rightless-voiceless-ignored-afraid.

STOP

Hello Mercy, my friend have you come for me?

FINALLY

 

the locust plague of unquestioning unctuousness is detrimental to all living things diving into the prurient pit

the locust plague of unquestioning unctuousness is detrimental to all living things diving into the prurient pit

it’s impossible to assemble the disassembled mind of heroes

it’s impossible to assemble the disassembled mind of heroes

When you look at people it’s amazing what actually although arguably they would never admit it goes on inside their head and on their head, which she thinks is their thought processor intel 8.

A clean-living working man. Very nice person with children. Works hard to make a crust. Helps with a charity. Is funny and likable. Very respectable. Doesn’t drive.

when he presents beautiful life models @corkvisioncentre
when he presents beautiful life models @thelongyardstudio

But the sordid mind that is there is beyond comprehension. The desires and capabilities of this hidden aspect is craving exposure and pleasure. It needs the place and the internet has the place ‘texting’ now ‘sexting’.

The hackneyed phrase a picture paints a thousand words is concerned with the visual being very powerful maybe it is, but the power of the word goes far deeper than

Continue reading “Foreplay v Wordplay and John Paul”

Having a sexting orgasm with JP better than the real thing!?

What is this world of sexting-and the interlocution between two total strangers.

JP arrived with a query to my question?

Is that a double entendre? He wrote.

I lol’d and that was the beginning of something like sexual magnetic

 

Sexting: exploits for the darkest space of the mind
Sexting: exploits for the darkest space of the mind

resonancing with words in

Continue reading “Having a sexting orgasm with JP better than the real thing!?”

it’s impossible to assemble the disassembled mind of heroes

it’s impossible to assemble the disassembled mind of heroes

the locust plague of unquestioning unctuousness is detrimental to all living things diving into the prurient pit

the locust plague of unquestioning unctuousness is detrimental to all living things diving into the prurient pit

it started on the edge of reason when there is in fact no reasonableness in the purity of reason: only destruction

A Christmas Childhood by Patrick Kavanagh Solitude Isolation memories as then is today with more comes more

One side of the potato-pits was white with frost –patrick kavanagh
How wonderful that was, how wonderful!
And when we put our ears to the paling-post
The music that came out was magical. Continue reading “A Christmas Childhood by Patrick Kavanagh-Solitude-Isolation-Memories as then is today:with more comes more”

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