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"Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo."

H. G. Wells
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In the Interest of Clarity
Posted:Oct 25, 2012 3:51 pm
Last Updated:Oct 20, 2020 4:42 am

Since it has been a while since I blogged.
Since my profile is pretty devoid of information.
Since for some reason saying that I am only here to blog and have no photos other than these that are posted on my blog, I still get emails that are entertaining, but nonetheless annoying; without further ado and with great aplomb...

(Insert drumroll)

Imma bout to de-mystify Dee.

Hi, my name is Dee.

I am a 57 year old woman with some pretty disabling health problems, who is supremely content with my family.
I am in a poly-amorous relationship with a man and a woman.
I have been since 2008.
I have zero plans to change that.
No desire to.
No need to.

I do not need a friend with benefits, I simply need friends.
Friends that 'get me'.
Friends that embrace my eccentric ways.
Friends that listen to my boring rambling.
Friends that don't mind me sharing my love of this world I live in through my photos.
Friends who will not be shocked by the fact that I can cuss like a sailor on first shore leave.
Friends who don't mind if I have a moment and write some erotica. (Don't get excited, that muse rarely ever descends on me.)

So thank you, for the , the invitations to do things that lead me to wonder about people in general, the offers of countless nights of pleasures that only an Arabian Pasha should hope to encounter,
But with no regret, I decline.

If you want to be my friend, this is the place to do so. I don't cam, don't chat, will email on occasion, will friend you on the book of faces if you are nice and can refrain from doing things on my wall that are over-the-top. (I like scantily clad photos of people there, but things of a sexual nature I abstain from there because I have a few on my list.)

If we become friends? I am a good friend to have. I will help people I am friends with in any way I can possibly help them. But if you are thinking this means I am gonna give you money, pay your bills, or not tell you if I think you are fucking up? I will only say this, my kindness should never be misconstrued as weakness,
and I am completely broke as a joke.

So this is me, as I am in my natural state. Thoughtful, compassionate to a point, honest, and respectful. I only have one rule for this blog, and that is respect.
If you disrespect me, if you disrespect anyone else here?
I will not war with you. I will not fight.
I will delete.
I will block.
I will forget.
Welcome, I do hope you find things here at least mildly entertaining.
Not Enough Time
Posted:Oct 27, 2020 1:49 pm
Last Updated:Oct 28, 2020 11:59 am

I am struggling find a time when I can write.

My writing flows best when I am alone and undistracted and those are rare days for me since 'rona came town.
But I find myself with a couple of hours today so I thought I would regale you with a tale from my past, attending orgies and swingers parties back when I truly was wild and wanton instead of the tame and tepid beast I seem to be morphing into. The party scene is fun for a time, but sooner or later unicorns get to feeling a bit used in that situation and while I do have fond memories of events that took place, it is not a place I look to visit again.

There was a man who used to attend the parties I did, nice guy always seemed to be more of a voyeur than an active participant so he stood out to me. We engaged in polite small talk and some random flirtations but I am not the 'make the first move' type. (Rejection mind fucks me hard and not in a good way.) So for some months this was the nature of our interactions.
Until one night.
The party was rocking on in the ballroom of the place the party was hosted, dancing, naked people groping, booze in the gallons being consumed and that night I had consumed my fair share and maybe a couple of other people's share as well. While I could still walk upright and say coherent words, I seem to have misplaced all my inhibitions.
The odd thing about me is that when I do get intoxicated I don't like to be in a crowded space so I wandered into an alcove that had a pool table and several padded seats lined along the walls. There were pool players and the wallflower in the room, so I plopped down in a seat next him and started flirting with him. He flirted back and so we continued until the pool players finished their game and headed back into the ballroom, leaving only the two of us there.
Being the worst pool player on the planet I invited him to play. Being a kind soul, he accepted. We played for a bit, (Well, he played, I just sort of shot in amongst them and hoped for the best.) and then we were down to the eight ball and I think I had four balls on the table and I had to make a long shot to try to bank around the eight ball. Which meant I had to nearly lay down on the table to get to the cue ball. I was wearing the classic little black dress and not much else because I had shed my shoes and hose back at the table I had been sitting around with my friends and I never bothered wearing panties to these events.
When I laid across the table to line the shot, I felt his hand my ass, warm and a little callused. I turned my head and smiled at him and asked him if I had anything else he wanted touch.
Now...I have been surprised by shy guys before, but this guy?
He grabbed my hips under my dress and pulled back into him and slid his hands down the front of my hips and straight to my clit. Just that alone was enough to make wet, but his complete understanding of the female anatomy was nothing short of stellar. While he worked my clit like a pro, his other hand was everywhere at once and he had his face buried in my neck, kissing and biting. I had my first orgasm standing there at the pool table, I soaked his fingers with it.
He sat down on one of the padded benches along the wall and opened his pants and took out his cock, which was already hard and the tip had a shiny drop of pre-cum on it. I was almost sorry he had to put on a condom, but I appreciated deeply that I didn't have to ask him to. Once he had it on, he pulled me down on his lap and I straddled him and rode his cock like I was hell bent for leather. And it was almost like public sex, the room full of partying people around the corner were loud and raucous, but our little alcove was just the two of us, releasing our inner demons and fucking like it was our last night on earth.
Some more people came in to play pool, and while I don't mind being watched, it seemed bother him so I asked him quietly if he would like continue this in my room and he seemed relieved and nodded yes. So I climbed off him (much the dismay of our audience), and we hopped the elevator and headed to my room for the evening.
We got to the room and unfortunately my gal pal had already made it there before we did and she was in the middle of a full blown gang bang, so I backed my way out into the hall to tell my shy friend that maybe we should go to his room?
But he had not intended to stay for the night, so he didn't have one.
We were on the third floor of the building, and the party was still in full tilt, so the halls were empty. At the end of the hallways there were large windows with a deep well that was big enough for me sit on so I led him there, hopped up on the ledge and pulled him between my thighs and started kissing him.
A new condom and we are back in business. The ledge was just a little too tall, the angle was awkward so I stood and bent over the ledge and he fucked me there in the window facing the freeway, my dress pushed around my neck, he was holding my tits and pounding me into the glass with cars driving by. I often wonder if anyone ever saw us there.
It was one of the most erotic things ever.
And a warm memory for a cold snowy day.

Love, peace, and twisted release till we meet again!
There is Yet Life
Posted:Oct 20, 2020 4:40 am
Last Updated:Oct 27, 2020 4:32 pm

Hello ! Nice to see you.
(Image is 10+ years old, don't get all het up.
Or do.
As you wish.)

Well, here I go again. I'm back on my bullshit. The hormone fairy has returned to my neck of the woods and I am happily surprised to find that once again, sex is something more than another chore. Not quite sure what to make of that , but after a 3 year drought, but I sure ain't one to complain.

The odd thing about it is the curiosity I seem to have grown. I have always been a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to sex. Positions may vary, but it was fairly vanilla, every now and again I danced around the edges of BDSM, silk ties, ropes, yada yada. Standard fare to be sure.
But now, I find that thoughts of things I never thought I would enjoy seem to invade my mind and I find myself lost in lurid fantasies when I have the time to let my mind wander.
Being choked with a cock has become a huge turn on for me. Whereas before I was happy to give a blowjob but it was merely foreplay and if you tried to choke me the foreplay was over, now when he grabs my jaw in his hand and grabs my hair and shoves his dick down my throat I get wet. When I feel the head of his cock hit the back of my throat I turn into a puddle.
I have also started thinking about anal play. Which is something I have NEVER had any interest in because in the main I find it painful, but after a good bit of reading and researching I think maybe that reason it was painful is due to the fact that I never had any considerate lovers who tried it and the few that I did try it with were apparently deathly afraid of lube.
I still haven't gotten brave enough to explore that fantasy, but it tends to make my morning shower a lot more....fulfilling. It may only remain a fantasy, I still have my many trust issues and there is fun pain and there is pain pain and I have enough pain pain to last me for the rest of my days.
There are other thoughts that cross my mind at various times of the day, and I find that there are days I need to masturbate or I will simply implode. That is definitely new, I seldom ever needed to give myself any kind of release because I kept a stable of fuckboys in my phone and if I needed release I just "reached out and touched someone". Being in a relationship has caused me to give up my little black book that was marked with such tidbits of info like 'Eats Pussy, dinner date, well hung,' So I have to "let my fingers do the walking".
Well, now that I have given thought to all this stuff, I suppose I should get a shower.
Love and Peace and Twisted Release to you all today.
Hello Margret, It's Me Again.
Posted:Jun 9, 2019 5:08 pm
Last Updated:Oct 20, 2020 4:05 am

Well, here I am again.
I wonder why I keep coming back this place. The blogs are bereft of most of the creative writers that were once here, My inbox is still filled with such astounding offers that I could not begin to detail in writing. Suffice to say, those offers while being very flattering, are offers I will decline. I no longer need them.

Maybe it is just a sense of nostalgia that keeps from deleting this . I used to make this place worth the time for some back in the day. I was the unicorn party chick that was DTF and absolutely no strings attached. That time was a time of awakening for me. A time to fully explore my pent up sexuality, be free and run wild and wanton through the many emails I received. It was a time of personal growth and self understanding.

But as with many things in life, I reached an apex and could grow no further. I found things about myself, my vision of self became clear. I began seeking other things and this site no longer served my purpose.

I met two of the dearest friends ever and my partners in life through this place, so I will never say my time here was ill spent. This site gave me more than my $$ worth. But after all the bloggers I read began departing in droves, I was hard pressed keep spending the hours I once spent here.

Still, I can't quite let go of the occasional stroll through the blogs, the intermittent post to say absolutely nothing of worth to anyone other than my own ego.

I still pop in, read a few favorite blogs that still titillate my gray cells with their words and wit, but I seldom feel a need write anything, because my life has become anything but stimulating. That is not say that it isn't good. My life is rather happy, I feel blessed. But there is hardly anything newsworthy happening at any given time.
I suppose this post is nothing more than a long winded hello for the few folks I still interact with on here before I head off to catch up on my reading.

Love and Peace~
Check Out is at Noon
Posted:Dec 11, 2018 9:33 am
Last Updated:Oct 29, 2020 2:01 pm

Hi , do you like violence?

Hold up, wrong blog.

Well, it seems that after my extended hiatus that there are still some readers of my daft babbling.
That is truly endearing, thank you all.

I have been a bit busy with life and all it entails, but it is now Winter, a time when my days are short and my thoughts are long. And they wander aimlessly over the years of my life. Finding side roads that lead to long forgotten memories, some good, some not so good. But all a part of the totality. I think I might come put them down here for safe keeping.

But first, I have to catch up on my reading.
A Little Under the Weather
Posted:Oct 23, 2017 6:35 pm
Last Updated:Dec 11, 2018 8:34 am

I am still around, lurking on the blogs and reading and commenting. I am suffering from some malaise and lethargy right now. Plus I am going to have to visit the dentist, I have a cavity that needs to be dealt with. So I'm just not in the mood to write. My bestie was handfasted this weekend in a lovely intimate ceremony and I am sorting through and tweeking photos that I took, so that is eating up whatever time I am not balled up in a blanket trying to sleep.
No worries I'll be writing again soon, I'm sure.
Big-mouthed women like me always have something to say.
Happiness Can Be Found.....
Posted:Oct 18, 2017 8:42 pm
Last Updated:Dec 11, 2018 8:37 am
....even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light."

So, I feel better. I have taken a long overdue social media break. It has been rather refreshing, really. A day with no atrocities being screeched from any screens.

Dare I say it? I nearly feel normal!
Well not really, but it looked good in print though, didn't it?

I did briefly get on FB today though. Lol, I love my friends.
I got this crazy friend who once lived here, still visits family here on the regular, who has a most wonderfully absurd sense of humor. She made me look like an idiot on my own front porch from several hundred miles away. You got to admire a skill set like that.
She recently acquired the first job she has held, publically speaking, for the first time in a good many years.
Let's just say shit did not pan out.They opened the door to the cage and set her free.
One of her biggest beefs with the job was the necessity of wearing a bra. This woman hasn't even owned a bra in twenty years. (I am dead serious. When you have small tits, it is an option to go braless when you don't have a public job.)
There was much writing on her part, detailing this new employment, the discussion of the bra, posts about the purchase of said torture device. It has been great reading with my morning coffee. Anyhoo, when the end of said employment came she ran a wee contest to see who could guess what happened and what the end results were. I participated and then promptly forgot all about it.
More on this in a bit.
So today has been a busy day. For one thing the minion horde are all out of school here for parent-teacher conferences. The wubbie is delighted that her big sisters are here all day with her and her volume control button has spun off and rolled under the stairs and into oblivion. And naps? Oh hell..I would have a better chance of getting her to recite the Preamble of the Constitution.
Plus there was the normal chores, laundry, sweeping, dishes...otherwise known as my eternal exercise in futility. You are never really done doing chores, you just get short reprieves between rounds.
While I was downstairs folding laundry, the postman came. The mutts lost their ever-loving minds because it was a nice day and I had the windows and doors open, so they could really give that guy a piece of their minds. I came upstairs to calm the clamor and went outside to get the mail.
The weather here is in its peak. The evenings have that nice nip, the days are temperate and mild. It is the lovely lazy days that I enjoy so much. I stood there, listening to the Wubbie do her very best banshee impression while, the Princess was egging her on. Since the shrillness was muted by the brick wall, it was rather nice.
I reached into the mailbox and lo and behold! There is a padded envelope addressed to me with her return address. What?! I haven't talked to her in over a month so this was a total surprise. The screaming through the wall was now being accompanied by thunderous hoofbeats, so I decided that I was just going to open this on the porch, savor a little minute before I returned to the fray, as it were.
Inside was a sports bra.
What the actual fuck?
So I am standing on my front porch, holding up this sports bra, and peering into the envelope to see if there was an explanatory note. Found it!
Winner, winner, chicken dinner! I won the contest.
The contest? Reading on and remembering the post, I started cracking up.
Meanwhile...all my neighbors; that I really don't know all that well, are starting to come home from work. There I am, standing on my front porch in my finest laundry day attire with hair clipped up on my head and slightly resembling an extra from the cast of "Twister". Holding a sports bra up and looking at it while cackling like a madwoman. The pair across the street from us ignored me, as they do everyone, the nice family with the two little ones on the other side of the street might have been making the sign of the cross as they ran their in the house. I only caught a glimpse of mom as she looked back over her shoulder at me. Have no clue who the car was, hopefully they were too busy driving to notice.
It would not surprise me to end up in a viral video some day. I can be so entirely oblivious to my surroundings at times.
But, the laugh was a beautiful thing, I will have to send her a thank you card.
Full of glitter.

Love and Peace!
Misty Blue
Posted:Oct 16, 2017 8:41 am
Last Updated:Dec 11, 2018 8:39 am

Do you ever feel like maybe you were born in the wrong century? That your morality and principles belong to a bygone era where logic and common sense were used to make important decisions instead of a collective set of emotions, and try as you may, you will never really fit into this age?
I've been in a really weird mood for lack of a better term. Part of it likely has to do with living in an age of madness where nothing makes any kind of sense. We have 'leaders' who seem hell bent on returning us to the 1950's where "White is Right" and destroying the planet is normal. Where a human fetus has rights but the woman carrying it is property to be controlled. A world where after the fetus becomes an actual human , those rights are shredded to ribbons and who gives a fuck if they eat or have a home. A world where human dignity has a dollar sign attached to it and if you don't have tons of money, then your life has no value unless it is in some way exploitable.
As I said, it is a weird mood. In a bid to keep my sanity, I have been avoiding the news and Facebook, but I checked the news today and well, here I am. I seem to forget that I have to maintain a certain amount of detachment or I am seriously going to fall into another depression. Because me, myself, and I are not enough to tackle all that is broken, and there is no coalition, no collaborative collective that is seriously doing anything more than beating a dead to death yet again with talk, talk, talk. I have signed petitions, spoken out, shared thoughts and my own opinions until my hands ache and my head hurts. And still the horror that is humanity's inhumanity continues to become more and more self-destructive. After a time, you have to just realize that there really is nothing more that you can do as one person, you know?

Maybe I will find something happy to blog about later. I really just needed to vent all this out somewhere so it will quit spinning around in my brain.
Here Comes the Rain Again....
Posted:Oct 14, 2017 4:34 pm
Last Updated:Oct 23, 2017 7:29 am
Fuck me, I love Annie Lennox.

Well, we are sitting here under a severe storm warning. Unusual for this time of the year, but not unheard of. I am listening to the distant rolling thunder and wondering if I should batten down the hatches or just not trip on it and go watch the Harry Potter marathon and watch the lightning show from the comfort of my bed. Decisions, decisions.
Such tawdry plans for a Saturday night, eh? There was once a time in my life where I would be dining with friends at this hour, making plans for the shenanigans to come later. There are times I somewhat miss it, the excitement, the laughter shared with friends, the drunken debauchery, but overall I am pretty content to be a house mouse, even if it is a trifle boring most days.
So, I am thinking of going geocaching. There are tons of listed caches in my area, a couple of them in places I haven't really explored all that much. They let you know when a particular cache is in a challenging terrain, which gives me something to work up to. I try not to be a 'goals' kind of person, as most of my life I have been more of a 'wing it' sort, but lately I rather like setting small accomplishable goals for myself. ( I still have it in my mind that I am going to tackle the Appalachian Trail before I die, because I am an optimist. I want to see it before they run that god forsaken pipeline through it. )
I have less that squat to blog about tonight.
It looks like Harry has won the coin toss. I swear I have seen this set of movies and read the books at least a hundred times, but this series is a lot like comfort food to me. It takes me back to when my own were young and the fun of discovering the wizarding world and the wondrous imagination of
Ms. Rowling. What an amazing tale she wove. She challenged young readers while still keeping the books easy to follow and understand. Oh to be so talented.

Leave me a comment and tell me what kind of wild and wanton adventures you had tonight. Let me live vicariously!
Of Fear and Superstition (VSG#35)
Posted:Oct 12, 2017 8:46 am
Last Updated:Oct 20, 2020 4:48 am

Of superstition:
I grew up in the Appalachian mountains. Superstitions are as common as fleas on a squirrels ass there and my beautiful mother is about as superstitious as they come. I almost gave her apoplexy by walking under a hayloft ladder when I was five or six. I was well into my thirties before I stopped throwing salt over my left shoulder when I spilled a bit out of force of habit. (Bless her heart, my mom is a real stickler about that one). Many superstitions were born of fears, both real and unfounded. Repeating them to kept the from doing things that would possibly get them injured or killed. Some, like the salt thing, have a basis in religion. (Judas was thought to have spilled salt at the last supper.) I never had a lot of faith in the truth of any superstition frankly. Life has enough unexplainable bad fortune, it never felt logical to me that doing something to ward off bad luck would work.

Of fear:
There is not a single halfway sane person who doesn't have some fear. Fear is inborn to most mammals, survival is dependent on a small amount of fear.
I fear a lot of things, but not the things that many people fear.
For example, I am not afraid of clowns. If a clown comes after me with a weapon, it best pray I don't have one. I will readily defend myself, and I will fight like a wildcat to the last breath if I don't. I might die, but I will absolutely go down swinging.
I have no fear of nature, but I do possess a healthy respect for what it can do. I am certain I would be paralyzed with fear were I to be confronted with an apex predator or a natural disaster, so I do try to avoid those kinds of encounters. But I don't limit my time in nature because of potential fear. Spiders, snakes, rodents....they might startle me by showing up when I don't expect them, but I am not afraid of them.
I don't fear heights, but again, I have respect for the damage that could be done by being aloft on unstable footing. But I will walk to the edge of the cliff or walk across a swinging bridge and imagine what it must feel like to be a bird.
And while I do not invite it, I do not fear death. Death is the end of life in this plane, no one knows what comes after this body gives up. Maybe it is nothing, maybe it is hell, maybe it is an alternate universe....I will know when I get there. But I am not going to sit in fear of dying. It is a waste of time better spent enjoying what is here and now.

But I do have fears.
I fear a world made uninhabitable by our incessant greed. A world with limited resources and too many people is just north of hell's gates in my mind.
I fear any loss of my personal freedom. Life in a cage, life with someone else in control of what I say or do. My sanity would be entirely forfeit in a matter of days.
I fear loss of passion. I'm not only talking about sexual passion, but passion for life in general. A life of simply existing, going through the motions of living without any feeling. That to me seems to me, to be the saddest life possible.
I fear alzheimer's, or any other kind of dementia. A life lost within the confines of ones own mind, no connection to anything or anyone. I have worked with the elderly long enough to pray for a fast death should genetics and/or environment lead to that reality.
I fear the loss of my loved ones, those closest to me. (Including; but not limited to, my mutts.) While I readily love humanity, even the less than loveable ones, I have a very small, very close circle of those I have allowed to see me at my worst, those whom I have allowed access into the totality of who I am. There is not a single day of my life that I am not grateful for each and every one of them, there is not a day that I do not wish the best of all life has to offer for them, there is not a day I do not take comfort in just knowing they are alive and on this planet with me. And there is no day I fear greater than the day I lose any one of them. This is my greatest fear, and it is also the fear I know that unless I check out first, I will face. But instead of fearing that day, I spend it enjoying every last second I have with them.

Too much fear will steal the flavor from life, so I try to face mine head on. I try to live life fearlessly as deeply as I can.
But right now, I fear if I don't get to doing this laundry it won't ever get done.

Ya'll have a good day. I'm off and running.
Love and Peace!
Lost in a Parking Lot.
Posted:Oct 5, 2017 10:43 pm
Last Updated:Oct 12, 2017 9:12 am

Sooo...I had to go to Wally World tonight...That place is one of those things that just never fails to amaze me at times. It just needs a hurdy gurdy playing over the intercom and voila! Instant circus.
I wheeled around of a bit, looking at everything except what I went to get, shopping, people watching. Got my goods procured and headed to the check out.
One cashier, fifty people. The bank of self serve kiosks on the end near where I parked were closed, so I hauled myself to the grocery side of the store and waited in line to check myself out. Clever of them to capitalize on folks impatience like that. Why pay a cashier?
I've always thought all those other register stations were just for slowing down shoplifters.
As I was standing there in line, I started having a hot flash that felt a lot like I might have been standing in the middle of the Gobi. Well, goody.
Finally make it to the kiosk, pay for my things and started walking all the way back down that empty bank of checkout stands. Out into the parking lot where there was at least a breeze blowing.
I start looking around for Mrs.'s Jeep.
It's not there.
So my directionally challenged self went the wrong way to look for it, because I just naturally do shit like that. Walked ALLLL the way to the opposite end of the parking lot.
Went to where I thought it should be.
No Jeep.
My head exploded.
"Fuck me to death, I know I locked it. Did I maybe park in the wrong place and get towed? Shit! Fuck! Omg, I'm dead. I'm dead I'm dead I'm dead...she is going to kill me and I will be dead. Shit." So then comes the logical side to the rescue. What is the procedure for having one's vehicle stolen off a parking lot, this is all new territory for me and I am now pacing, because that is what I do when I am stressed out. Stalking up and down the rows of cars, looking and pressing the lock button waiting for that familiar horn.
So I get about half way across the parking lot, and think well...I might as well call them and let them know that the Jeep is missing.
Start looking for a place to prop my purse so I can fish my phone out.
Happen to look to my right.
Found the jeep.
All they way down on the opposite end of the parking lot.

Shit like this is why I should not be let loose without a keeper.

Who knew going senile would be such a good workout. I stomped around in that parking lot for 25 minutes.

I'm running away from home for the weekend, you guys be good!

Love and Peace
Seduced by Words
Posted:Oct 2, 2017 4:21 am
Last Updated:Dec 11, 2018 8:49 am
A tip o' the cap to gardenboy321 for a reply to a comment I had left. Tis' tonight's inspiration. (The imagery of that reply....Oh myyyy....Words that will grab me roughly by the optic nerve and drag me where they want me to go. Oh, purr....I like it rough.)

I like to be seduced by a writer, beguiled by the first chapter, lusting by the second. I want a scintillating synopsis to slide like watered silk along my earlobes and cause gasp to leave my lips by the end of the first paragraph. I want to frantically open your chapters, revealing more and more as each page drops from my trembling fingers. I want titillating turns of phrase to drop eagerly from between my lips; moist and and heavy with the weight of their sound. I want to feel the weight of written emotion to press against my chest as thoughts bury themselves in my hair so that they might trickle into my dreams as I lay sleeping. I want to feel the rise of impassioned words rubbing against my belly, urgent and hard, seeking a seat within depths of heart, their purpose to be savored.
I want to feel saturated in words and images, my mind filled to overflowing, again and again....
Until it is finished, and I am replete and sated, all words spent and swimming frantically in my mind, seeking a fertile corner where they may find shelter and a place to grow into yet more words.
Ah yes, seduce me with your words.
An Enchanted Moment
Posted:Sep 30, 2017 10:52 am
Last Updated:Oct 12, 2017 1:41 pm
A break from the constant influx of frightening, heart-rending, sadness that is the world today.

On the weekends when I write, I have a luxury that is not normally afforded me, to let my thoughts freely flow and create a small torrent of words that I will eventually restructure into some kind of coherent thought. But I also have another luxury that is afforded me, being able to sit and watch the butterflies that come to the yard to feed from the different nectar bearing flowers I plant for them, through the window I sit by when I write.
Such wondrous creatures they are. Growing from the most innocuous of creatures into flying flowers, the likes of which we plant specific plants for their dining pleasure, just to enjoy the sight of them.
But as you can see these two luxuries are often at odds with one another. These butterflies are making it hard for me to write. I am easily distracted by nature, I enjoy letting its peace wash over me. I look at these butterflies and realize just how tenacious these tiny bits of shiny paper are, what an amazing miracle their existence is. How relatively short, yet beautifully uncomplicated their lives are.

How much, in many senses, I actually envy them the relative peace they enjoy.

Other than a primitive drive to avoid predators, they know no fear. They float on the barest of breezes from one flower to the next, feeding, basking in the sun. No fear of rejection, war, murder most foul. They wander, they feed, they procreate and they die. Do they fear death? I couldn't possibly know. But I am willing to bet that they don't waste one moment worrying about it. I have found dying butterflies before. They are exhausted, weak, their magnificent wings battered and torn, and they happily will climb up on your fingertip if they have the strength, to have their wings turned towards the sun, to bask in the warmth of it and give up their life peacefully.
If that isn't skidding into home plate, then I don't know what is.
Other than angry wing fluttering over the territory of a particular flower or girl, they don't experience war as we do either. There is no collective of badassed butterflies who want to control all the nectar in the garden. The loser in a butterfly brawl flutters off to another flower or another girl, whichever the case may be.
Higher thought may not be all it is cracked up to be. Maybe it is more a curse than a blessing. A day with none of the world's heavier worries would be a blessing right now..
That said, I will share a moment of my enchantment with you.


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