I am between calculations at the moment. I thought I would
rapid type just a quick elaboration on what I realised about my relationship
approach while I was away. It seems I have been seeking out a man for a
long-term relationship based on all the things I ‘should’ want. Do I really
want them? Where did I get these ‘shoulds’ from? Then I realised that we are
all set Hollywood criteria and fairy-tale ‘Happy Ever Afters’. Why? I have a
sneaky feeling it is to do with the fact that it controls society. People stay
in shyte relationships for economic reasons and fear of being alone. Also women
don’t want to be the source of scathing gossip from fat, bitchy women whose
husbands gain more pleasure playing with a small train than having passionate
intimacy with them. Dark eh? All these comments about single people having
something wrong with them. All this bitchiness about how they spend so much
time on how they look and what do we see from the other side of the single
coin? People who have become complacent of the person they fell in love with.
Where there was once passion, now there is child vomit and flannel pyjamas. No
wonder they resort to gossip. I hope I never take for-granted any man that I
fall passionately in love with.
I came to the conclusion that lust is beautiful because it
takes you into the body and drives you towards desire. Why are we made to feel
guilty about natural instinct? Passion comes from somewhere – it is life force
and there are times when a woman simply needs a bloody good snog and a pair of pectoral
perfectus to caress. They will often belong to a younger man who is not nasally
hair challenged like the older ones... Some people might say this is a bit ‘cougar’
yet while I was laying on a sun lounger being massaged by a rather attractive
young man – it dawned on me. Who said it was right that stinky, hairy men with
cash had the right to date young totty because they have wealth? Why do people
sneer at women with younger men when those younger men are searching for
learning and understanding on how to truly love and honour a woman’s body? Who
is there to teach men properly about how to respect and truly pleasure a
woman’s body? How many of them actually know it takes around twenty minutes to
bring a woman to a heightened sexual state and there we are Boom – a blown out
sausage wonder in less than a quarter of that time! Amazing. Someone needs to
get porn off the internet and provide proper learning to both sexes about the
pleasure of the body rather than diagrams of where to shove a tampon given by a
female teacher with a moustashe!
In the meantime, some clever nostril-hair-clad rich old
bloke got all the old boys together and got them to ‘cash in’ on the stupid
idea of female beauty exchange for old fart finance. ‘Let’s persuade women to
tolerate all our dull unfulfilling chatter and arthritis because we can pay for
a decent meal. ‘We will set the rules because we pay and they will admire us! It
is fair exchange chaps! Tally-ho!’
I thought about the rich idiots I dated who believed they
had power over me because they had money. I explained to each of them that I
assumed that wealthy men would be of high intelligence and provide great
insight. I did not need their money because I have money so there is no power
dynamic, so why do I have to play by these shyte rules? I am sure that
impressed them.
So I came to the conclusion during the massage that for a
woman to truly be herself she must love herself completely and not allow
herself to tolerate that which does not make her heart shine and glow. She
needs to connect to her true femininity and embody it. I was reading a book
about embodying the sacred feminine along with another book about ignoring
fairy-tales. It then got me thinking about how we are fed fairy-tales of wealthy
princes. Clever isn’t it? Persuasion from the beginning to be saved by a rich
prince. If this does not happen then you fail. Earn your love by being
beautiful. In the meantime, someone with a persuasive voice advised women ‘you
know you can get really nice shoes if you tolerate an old man because he can
buy you stuff. Both sides were benefitted – nice shoes in exchange for rancid
nostril hair tolerance. And so the dynamic continues – the old financial fart
exchange. Both parties know the financial fart exchange stinks but both ignore
the smell because money is involved! All these ideals make me go - Grrrr!!!!
Rant. Rant. Rant!
While I was by the pool, I watched a prunesque old bloke
with white chest hair and leopard skin trunks flaunt his bustily-modified
girlfriend, who was definitely twenty years his junior. She strutted while he
surreptitiously passed wind. He had no control. It was so weird when he was
doing breast-stroke in the pool and a trail of bubbles rose to the surface with
every kick. The air was filled with the aroma of intestinal sulphur. And she
had to put up with that in exchange for cash and body modification. She was his
status symbol and he was her income. Errch... I just realised ‘in come’ there
we are – there is the fluid financial exchange!
I will send you the LUST list shortly... I have realised
something big. It seems that youth is exchanged as a commodity. What a
superficial world. Does no one truly know how to love in the deepest sense?
What has become of the value of maturity and wisdom? I realise that I am
superficial in some ways; although I have been out with people sixteen years my
senior and ten years my junior. I love the insight from the ones who were
actual gentleman and the advanced conversations. The unfortunate truth is that
I am too energetic for them and they often nod off before anything amorous
takes place. The younger chaps are fun and full of energy and you can do lots
of activities but lack the maturity to provide insight. Where is the happy
medium without the baggage? After all of this reading and massaging I realised
I like being single and having freedom. This whole dating lark is an adventure
really. It provides a great deal of learning about others and myself.
