... & Social Media Avoidance totality.
Five months tick past, subjectively paced. Brew a tea or coffee, I'll wait—this will take a bit of both our time.
Ready? Pull up a seat, the fluffy beanbag is my personal preference and tuck into the drink.
The winter season challenged my mental health more than it used to. My life path felt lost, covered by the proverbial snow of life or doubt. I feel I've touched in a prior post on how sex tends to become a coping mechanism for me. Most would consider this a win instead of a loss, but when the synthetic play-things become boring & the real thing is not a consistently available resource; it's more frustrating trying to relieve the steam than it feels it should be.
"Rio, you're delving into your erotic natures of oversharing again!" you say. Like you aren't tossing all the pointless things of your day into your social media account in hopes someone likes or follows will flick your egotistical clitoris. We speak on social media again shortly!
I almost got breast reduction surgery last month. Consulted and planned, yet I got cold feet or cold armpits (?) near the end between the cost, talks with Jag, and Bruno, & my questioning what my life would be in a smaller cup.
The $10K price tag was quickly concerning once my fever dream of whims settled down. Bruno & Jag both spoke highly, in their own tones, of my figure, appearance, bust size, and the unspoken tone one's silhouette exudes to create a perceivable likeness. The post-planning measures and discussions of the surgery ultimately sealed my concerns, thus pushing me to cancel. The risks of reducing natural fatty tissues, recovery time, & obvious human error aren't worth a fleeting reward to change something I struggle to love, that being my body.
That 10 grand was placed into an account, minus a few hundred to fix some storm damage over the last few months. The weather as we entered spring came in like an angry hornet. At least 3 times I have had to fix things at my house. Tree Work, New Windows, and Roofing were all done. Roofing men are a special breed. Handsome, hard-working, and yet also very genuine and nice. It's rare when I find men who are fun to just hang around and talk to, and watch work, while still knowing that they probably have plenty of comments to each other of myself.
So Social Media. I have private accounts. I don't share those here & each day I become less attracted to this concept of access to the world's wealth of information. Between the oozing toxic sap of the ego-misogynistic, cynical, & putrid hatred array; the overtly full-frontal sexual display of Nymphomaniac which makes even myself blush; or falsified truths of deception -- I've had well beyond my fill.
Something, such as this blog, allows a full spectrum of allowances paired with personality. You read my text, agree or disagree, then make your way to your next digital fix. The human brain can spend 3-seconds to determine the fruitfulness of a text. Yet 90% of the netizens of the world (mostly the USA) seem to have decided that brief moment should be assaulted by stupidity, sexism, and blatant lies.
It's overall sickening and doesn't help my mental state. It makes me fearful for y'all as well. I find myself cooing for the 80's era of outdoor interactions with humans and less with screen-masked morals. There was a time when you could call out assholes in real time with a face to match future interactions. Now keyboard warriors hide behind their overpriced electricity vampires, prisons of an open mind.
That's been my last few months in a nutshell. I always try not to ghost my blog, but I have never had a trend of commitment in my life.
Tonight, I write this on a handicap as I work with an already overly stimulated mind. Speaking to the 2025 graduates of my High School Alma Mater. A great dinner as well as conversation. It warms my heart to be invited to such an opportunity & watch a future generation step forward into their adult paths. I had Jag as my plus one, an experience she missed out on with her Child Musician career.
I felt so old, seeing such youthful and excited High Schoolers. But maybe I was the hottest Milf some of those guys met? I know -- "That's a stretch". But let a girl bath in her delusional imagination. :)
Until next time my dears!
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