Forever Love

Forever pursue me, like the devil lust for souls,

Forever chase me, like the sun does the moon,

Forever follow me, like ducklings in the pond.

Forever protect me, like a mamma bears cub .

Forever walk beside me, like rows in a garden.

Forever love me with passion, like an artist painting a master piece.

Forever laugh with me, like kids in a park.

 

 

 

 

 

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Lonely Nights

Adult/sexual content warning!!!! Today I am wanting to try to write something a little more exciting. Hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

I lie here alone, this bed feels so much bigger without you under it’s sheets. I still smell you cologne, intoxicating, it fills the bedroom reminding me of your your body against mine. I still feel your heart beating, your muscles tensing and hear you deep breathing in my ear.

I close my eyes, I try to fall asleep. I see your eyes and feel you touching my body. I feel you squeeze my breasts, nibble and suck on my nipples. I feel you lick my neck, and slowly kiss me all-the-way-down. Your tongue sends shivers all over my body.

I touch myself to make it real. I squeeze my breast like you do. I put my hand between my legs like you do. My breath deepens, heart begins to rush. My fingers caress my clitoris like you do. I breath faster, a little moan, muscles tense. I move my hips as I push my fingers inside, I curl my finger like you do, in search of the point that makes me moan louder. I imagine your hard penis thrusting deep inside me, bringing me to orgasm.

When it’s all over I am still alone. I can hardly bare sleeping under these sheets without you.

 

 

Frisky

The night makes me feel a little frisky,

The music makes me think a little naughty,

The smoke in the drink’s got me a little hazy,

I’m wanna cause something a little crazy.

 

Swaying to the music, with my little sexy dance,

She don’t like it, but I can tell by your glance,

Your thinking we should make a little romance,

Come over here and take  a chance.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I Look Up To A Third Grade Drop Out

What a strange thing to say right? Me, who has been educated beyond the third grade, I have  multiple certificates and by all account would be considered well-educated. (Even though I struggle with some things I am working on) Why on earth would I look up to a third grade drop out?

This particular third grade drop out was in third grade three times. Failed because he broke his writing arm one year. Failed the next because he broke his other arm. The final time in grade three he dropped out and went to work. An eleven year old boy digging ditches to put food on the table and a roof over his families head. This eleven year old became a man, became the sole money earner for 8 people.

This drop out loved to read and would read anything he could get his hands on. He worked hard all his life. He dug ditches, cleaned out sewers, drove heavy equipment, learned to repair heavy equipment, started his own logging business. Married and raised 7 children, including one adoption and cared for many foster children over the years.

This man was strong, wise, and always ready to lend a helping hand. He loved people, loved to talk with people, loved to hear their stories and always lifted them up before he left. He always did his best to make a wrong right. He overcame alcoholism, he overcame abuse, he overcame hardship and starvation. This man’s life experiences were vast and hard. He still rose above it, learned from it and always worked on making himself a better man, a better husband, and a better father  and friend. He is an inspiration to all who met him. I never met a person over the years who knew him say anything bad, always pleasant memories and stories of how he made their lives better.

Anytime I needed help he was always there with the best support and advice. He would ponder what your predicament was, then gave you a couple of choices. He always let you know how he saw those choices would work out. From there he allowed me to make my own choice, no matter my choice, no matter if he thought it was right or wrong, he always backed me up. Always loved me even when I really messed things up. He said that it is when we mess things up is when we find out what kind of person we truly are. If we make it right, if we do all we can to swallow our pride and make amends that is the lessons we must learn to become stronger. He taught  me to never carry the past into the future with  me. Let the past be a distant memory and never let it control your future. By watching how he loved my mother I learned how love should be, how fighting to work it out should be. How to forgive each other and how to always see the person inside and never see them in a superficial way.

When I was taking my college exams he decided to take a placement test. He just wanted to see if he was still at grade 3 level. Turns out he was a 4 th year engineer level. He had the life experience and read his way to such a high education that he still succeeded without stepping foot into University.

My father was is the man I compare all men to. This is a tall order follow, but I don’t need a degree, I don’t need a beautiful face, I don’t need fancy cars or trucks or anything materialistic. I want the love my father showed, I want a man who when he see his faults does everything in his power to change for the better.  Quit drinking or quit drugs or become more patient. To have courage to make amends, to make a better choice and learn from his mistakes. To always work hard at any job he has, as long as he takes pride in his work and never gives up. I don’t care if he cleans out sewers, he does it for me, and the family and holds his head up high. That is a great man.

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t miss my father. Not a day that I wish I could share my day with him. I want to hear his voice, his laugh, to feel his bear hugs and see into his eyes one more time.  To ask his advice just once more.

I try to honour my father by living like he did. by always improving on myself, by becoming stronger and more caring. I try to treat people with love and respect, even when it’s hard. I try to read everything I can to improve my mind and learn from others. I try to make wise choices, and to lend a helping hand where ever I can. I try to raise my child with love, understanding and open honesty.  I try to not judge people, not at all, not how they look, or talk, or choices they made or religion or anything superficial.

A third grade drop out is my biggest inspiration, my biggest fan, my best friend, and my father.

 

Rule Your Hell

Very recently I have experienced a struggle, with reality I guess you could put it. I am in Alice’s Wonderland of all lands to enter. I mean really, why couldn’t I enter the land of enchantment, to be a queen in a castle? What’s up is really down, and the truth be told, the left side of that mushroom will not make you taller. Just like the right will not make you smaller. While I go through hard times I always try to learn from others, I read anything and everything as fast as I can read it. Just so I can find an inspiration, and tool or a strand of hope to get me through this with some sort of grace. I love and respect all writers, it is a fantastic way to weave in and out of realities, lessons and of course finding treasures in mystical worlds, my favourite. Words in print, just the best.

While having a random anxiety attack, I opened a random book. Seriously just random, picked up what was beside where I was sitting. While taking those deep slow breaths I opened a page deep within the bindings. This is what I read;

“To reign is worth ambition though in Hell: Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven” (Pg. 44 in Confessions of an Advertising Man by David Ogilvy)

This was like a fist to the face. What the hell is this person saying? It was shocking, thought provoking, and made me think I was about to be stricken by God at any point. This was blasphemous! Should I duck? Run for cover? I mean I honestly, felt like I was in serious harms way. Not what someone in the middle of an anxiety attach needs! But this is what writing is all about for me. To shock you, to make you think, to encourage or shake up your reality, only then are you open to a new way of thinking.

I put it down and took a few more deep slow breaths. I’m calming down from the attack now by reminding myself “I am all right”. As you may know, our body does not know the difference between stress of excitement, stress of fear, or stress of shock. To our bodies, stress is stress, and it releases all sorts of chemical reactions to help you fight or flight. So, self talk, (don’t laugh) is a huge help to let your body  know you are all right. After calming down I had to open that book again. I searched for the page and re-read that line. I took it to be speaking to me right now. Ya, I’m special in the way, but anything that can help make sense of or contribute to a better situation; I’ll take it.

It is better to rule in Hell than to serve in Heaven. What? To me, I think of it meaning when going through Hell you had better rule it while you pass through. Make it worth your while right, why be a slave in Hell? Learn all you need to make it work for you.

That’s my interpretation at this point in life of the first part. However, the better than serving in Heaven part I am not sure.Heaven is supposed to be a place we all want to go, but no I don’t want to be a servant for eternity, be it heaven or hell.

I often think of things that help me get through hard times. such things like:

The light at the end of the tunnel is not at train.

This too shall pass.

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

Tomorrow is always better than today.

When travelling through hell don’t stop, you are just passing through.

These little self-help pep talks are great when you need them as a quick pick up, but to consider to actually rule your Hell. This is a total shift. Take charge! for a lack of better words “man up.” What a great perspective.

So, next question is… How?

Go to school and get that education that will make you a leader. Focus on your current work to show you are stronger, better, and more passionate. Show you want that raise, be assertive! Go for the next level within the company or a competing company. Don’t hang around for a boyfriend / girlfriend to get their shit together, move it on up, don’t let them drag you down. Don’t let them hold you back either, do not let them follow you like a weight around your ankles. Let the pain of the past be exactly that, all in the past. Don’t carry it with you in your future. If you let the past follow you around then it wins, you must win over anything that happened yesterday. It hurt, yup, now let it go.

Basically find the courage to take a leap of faith, to make a move up, or move forward. You can do it. How do I know this? Because history is filled with stories of people who had nothing that made the world change. Not just the local town shaken up, no, these people who had nothing, changed the WORLD! How? Courage! Be courageous, be assertive, get educated and rule your Hell.

😉

 

Oh Gravity

As I get older I see gravity is becoming a bit of a bitch. I suppose I should look into a support group. I wonder if there is a nipple dragging group out there?  I don’t want to be a “tripper” when I am in a nursing home, geesh, I could break a hip. A bit dramatic? maybe so. However this is a serious problem among women! 🙂

We all want to look good right? We all want to feel attractive, wanted and desired right? Hell ya. I love being loved, touched, kissed, licked, who doesn’t? But as I get older and hips have widened I see the downside of age. Such cruel reality.

Why bother, no one is looking under my shirt anymore. Why can’t I just let it all hang out? Swinging to and fro, who cares? A strong gust of wind and I have my own flags cheering me on! Other than the people they may slap in the face, oh no, more like slap in the knees! My apologies.

I am exaggerating of course. But some days it feels like the sex appeal is all gone. The body changes through life I get it. So, how do you feel sexy as you age? How do you make yourself feel like you have a” little dirty secret” that puts a little bounce back in your step? You know, when you used to wear lingerie under your cloths or freshly shaved/waxed vagina, or whatever you did you make you feel good. What can you do now? Exercise!

Yup, I saw an older lady from the back at first, it was a body of a 20 or even 30 year old. Then she turned around, and my mouth dropped! She was not at all a young woman. I had to ask her what she did? Is this plastic surgery? Nope. She does yoga 3 days a week and pole dancing 3 days a week. POLE DANCING! I asked her how old she was. She was 67 years old. I was so impressed. She told me she had only been doing dancing for about a year and she saw changes in her body that she had never had before. She has done yoga for 5 years. So she started at 62 years old to loose 30Lbs but she gained a body she never even dreamed of. How wonderful! She said her breasts have even firmed up. Come on, this is the key ladies. Find a strengthening workout that you love and work it, work it work it!

One of my new year goals is to lift these babies up, up, up. Rise my sweets! Look to the ski! I am doing push-ups, and chest pumping and anything I can to re-develop that muscle area. (And I am signed up for the next pole dance class) I wonder if there is Botox for breast? Hmmm? nah, I don’t like getting a needle in my arm, sure don’t want needles stuck into my tender ladies.

oh no, my mind just wondered to a tire pump, wouldn’t that be nice hey, just pump them up when they get a little flat. hahaha.

Well I’m just saying, gravity, she’s is a bitch. But so am I, I will not let you win!

Happy exercising. 🙂

Sway To The Beat

Wake up in the morning,  don’t know what happen the night before.

Try to get up and shower, but the ground is turnin, feel like I’m gonna hit the floor.

Drag my butt to work, boss is pickin a fight. I back it on up, right out the door.

Call my friend to tell her the news,  she said lets go hit the dance floor.

 

Ya, I shake my toosh, sway my hips to the beat.

Whisky drowns away, all my feelings of defeat.

I’ll fly away, fly higher to a better place.

Soar above the clouds to feel the emptiness of space.

 

I’m not the girl your mamma wants to see.

I’m not the girl you take to the office party,

I’m soft and tender but all you’ll see is strong and free.

I’ll leave you in a minute if you don’t make me happy.

Back on the dance floor is I like to be.

 

Ya, I shake my toosh, sway my hips to the beat.

Whisky drowns away, all my feelings of defeat.

I’ll fly away, fly higher to a better place.

Soar above the clouds to feel the emptiness of space.

 

I pick a fight to see if I still feel, to hear if my heart still beats.

I never let em see me fall apart, strong like a rock and always looking sweet.

Before you know it I’m back on the dance floor,

Not a care in the world, just swinging to the beat.

The Monster You Made

When I awoke this morning, I had hoped to shed you.

I hoped the pain you stabbed me with, no longer bled.

Showered off your smell, and watched your touch go down the drain.

Your twisted truth of love  turned into nothing more than a burdensome trinket.

But here I stand strong, I’ve not turned to ash and blew away in the wind.

I’ll rise from this wreckage, stronger still, with higher walls.

I wear upon my chest the heavy medallion you gave me.

My heart blackened, for believing your lies.

My love turned to vengeance, jaded and cold.

My kiss, laced with venom.

My touch, lined with poison.

My stare enchants and encapsulates all who gaze, unable to resist me.

I smile as I drink thier life force, watching it slowly drain from their eyes.

Look what you created, in all your arrogance.

You made this, you pulled out all my innocence, and filled it’s hole with the venomous beast before you.

Is this what you had in mind? Have I made you proud? Am I beautiful to you now?

Come and gaze into my eyes, let me touch your flesh, let my beautiful lips kiss you.

Come closer, feel my breath, listen to my gentle whisper,  breath in my sweet potion.

Enter my chambers my love, let me look into your eyes…

 

By Tina Curtis

 

 

 

 

 

 

You Swerved

When we met, you loved my eyes, and wanted to kiss my lips, I let you kiss me and look into my soul.

You liked my body, I danced for you.

You couldn’t get my words out of your mind, I talked and laughed with you.

You wanted to touch me, I let you.

You wanted to know me, I said yes.

But then you swerved. Our love was about shine brighter than the sun. But you swerved.

You said you were sorry and can’t go on without me. I stayed.

You said you love my smell. I pulled you closer.

You said you admire my strength, I let you lean on me.

You said you wanted me, I said yes.

But then you swerved. Our love was about to shine brighter than the sun. But you swerved.

I felt the wind as you passed me by,  and now you are too far behind.

I will not go back, I will not wait, I will not swerve from my path.

You want me now? I’m too far ahead to look back.

You swerved.

 

Remember When.

Remembering a life long passed,

Played with dolls, ran through the tall grass, chased squirrels, climbed trees, and scraped my knees.

A first kiss so new and exciting.

Feels like an eternity has passed.

What a gift it would be to turn back time, to feel all those new and firsts. Remembering how easy life was, simple and free.

Love felt so good, it was easy, laughing, exploring, swimming and having fun.

How did all that turn into fear? Hate? Self doubt and regret?

Spending all the year in the sun, and making up a little song, walk around without a destination, smell the gravel road, laugh at nothing and everything and chase a dragonfly.

But now I lost another love, gained another broken heart, and cry myself to sleep.

Reality bites me with overdue bills, piles of chores, work, kids, bad breakups, burying memories and dreams of what I wanted to be.

Remember when we used to know everything, now I know nothing.