The Most Childish...

... of Adults.

Back again in short order, this psychotic bitch. 

Let me explain.

After a long trend of heat & humidity, we've had a few spurts of storms and rain. Jag, Bruno, & I, in a moment of delirium, decided to take advantage of the rains. We would slip outside into the back yard as we allowed ourselves that moment of almost childish bliss & naivety. 

Slipping back into the outdoor shower to the bathroom as we laughed at ourselves, soaked to the bone, and ignoring the emotion of embarrassment or vanity. 

It was our moment of joint joy & brought us closer together. 

I wanted to share this quirky moment we had and how much fun it was for me. I'll forever cherish this moment in my life. 

A Flood of Emotions...

... ,storm waters, & summer heat

Made it to a shorter gap between posts! It's been a shitshow of events in such a short time, though -- let's talk about it. 

The perception of my tastes and self by others has been a game of assumptions for years. "She's an 80s girly girl", "She'd hate dark music", etc. doubled. 

While I am quite bound to the 80s era & culture, one must recall that hair bands and rock music were also formed within the 80s as well.  That said -- the passing of Ozzy Osborne was a hard pill to take. Along with the passing of other celebrities, including vocalist George Kooymans of Golden Earring. All were pinnacles of their art and brought us all imagery within our minds through their music. They are all to be missed yet also thanked for their contributions to the world. 

Within those events, I've watched storm waters rise and recede near my backyard from the lake level rise from recent storms & runoff. One day, the rains came as I was outside doing yard work, and it made me glad I was wearing a bikini under my clothes. The warm rainwater felt good, even with the high temperatures lately. 

My home has lakefront access, and it does at times bear moments of concern. I also have a custom-designed bath, which gives access to an outside shower that has flooded slightly, which keeps me on my toes sometimes.  The storms have also tried to drown my garden and taken out 1 larger tree in the neighborhood I'm in.  Wild times to be honest. 

As of this current week, I've been having girls' night (and Bruno) with Jag. The news of Ozzy's passing and other things going on personally had taken a toll on her. There is nothing I can truly speak on; it's her own story and life to tell at her own time.  She's fine and her mental state was, nor is, not where one should be concerned. 

I am in such love with Jag and we're like sisters, but with an interesting dynamic. Frequent readers know my story with Bruno, Jag's bodyguard & associate. We are all so close and care for each other deeply. Yet, I also know much deeper aspects of her life that others don't, and she's been embracing that side of herself more in private within the house. 

More beach time & Pool fun with summer foods to come for us, as weather permits. She was so impressed and happy with how the July events at Glen Garden's went, and I don't blame her as I attended Anima & Glen Fest. Anima, this year, was my first time attending, and it was epic seeing the cosplays and stage shows. 

I'm so proud of her. She's a great roomie as well when she visits. 

I'm doing fine while letting this summer be a time to just relax & improve my self-image. Bikini season is a time of uncertainty. I get self-conscious about my frame, while I get more male attention for the same, obviously. I have never been a fan of being objectified by men; even at my worst, it was a point of discomfort for me.

I am fortunate that most men in my life are intelligent gentlemen who, even if sexually pleased by them in some capacity, are still respectful and kind. The few assholes I have encountered rarely get far in bed with me, nor do I try to give them the time of day. 

If you haven't noticed by now, my taste in men has always been unorthodox compared to what other "bubbly blond bimbos", as I've once been referred to as, would want. My crushes have always been the outsiders of society, the gentleman of a time past, the bad boys with true hearts. Few girls, like myself, who have lusted for and dreamed of Michael Jackson for decades, rarely wind up dating or giving oxygen to immature boys or men lost in themselves or their delusions of "manliness" curated by porn sites & poor father figures. 

My body simply attracts the latter while my personality attracts the former. Some of you may already know the ratio of the two sadly leans more to boys & fake men than it ever does real men.  I reiterate; I have been blessed to have at least 2 or 3 of them in my life. 

So I guess my advice to close out is... make sure to hold out for the real men. If you are a man, hold out for the real women, too. The ones that have a true mind, their own opinions, & make you feel happy and safe. 

Have a fun and rest-filled summer into fall. I can smell the pumpkin spice already. 

Winter Depressions, Sexual Dry Spells, Almost Boob Reduction...

... & 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!

Busy first month...

 ... and I go conspiracy theorist.

I'm back in my home. The process was hell and arduous, to say the least. There was insurance red tape, weather delays, supply delays, and even my mental tooling at half speed to make decisions about the aesthetic I wished to create. The final product, however, meets my wishes and requirements. I've been enjoying our surreal winter snowfall from my home with great coziness and a slight air of pride.

My time - during the process - was spent with Jag and Bruno. The sexual temptations I had would constantly be in check and even fail at times. I don't complain about those times of moral strength as I still am a craven woman, a mammal driven to breed and reproduce for survival. Of course, none of those moments were for reproduction and solely my own desired lustful appetite.

The visit included trips to Los Angeles, a city my heart pours out for during its tragic uncontrolled fires creating destruction, along with other parties and events. I felt the aura of being a rockstar or person of interest and fame. It did fully engulf me at times and I would quickly fall back to earth upon my return to this humble headquarters of my life. All of these things had no small effect on my mental state, egotistical blight, or the entry to my temple or body to those of layman's terms.

I've spent the last few weeks at home in my own office and living room as I tool with my thoughts and scroll the endless pit of the internet known as Instagram. You may know (reading this Blog you should, hun) that I am a "Moonwalker" aka Michael Jackson fan.

I've slowly been teetering along the conspiracy fence on MJ, his Life, & passing. A part of me understands that life is finite and fragile as well as that Jackson had a time of his life when substance abuse was very much prevalent.

I also understand his death is a proverbial Swiss cheese of theories, toothbrush-level scoured inconsistencies, & parallel-tuned Elvis theories of faked endings. My heart, my soul, really wants to clench to the later options I just mentioned.

One thing that I tend to find, as I have been able to stomach listening again to his songs without feeling a pain in me that even dwarfs my worst "time of the month", is the shocking realities of how Michael's lyrics tend to speak volumes today of current events. These lyrics pre-date the timeline we currently live and yet he was exposing and slathering the world of today to us back then. At times those lyrics are even a melodic warning to the masses of what he saw ahead.

Below is an Instagram suggested reel that I came across a few days ago in which you can hear and read in the comments the fact that MJ was most likely doing a very deep expose on the music industry and society overall. I also, within this vocals-only version, notice the lyric "Hit Me, Kick Me, You can never get me..." which makes that naive part of me question if this was a message well beyond our understanding then and today. Was Michael telling us that he would find ways to evade the people who want him silenced? Is this a lyrical nudge to the theories for years that he simply went into hiding and his passing or the person of interest shown in his passing was not him after all?

This is the small glimmer I will keep close to my heart, regardless of what rational tells it. Jackson had a reach that surpassed even the eluded higher powers of the world which made him ultimately a power of peace, unity, & a collaborative fight against the high powers and to change society against the "man", as they always called them in the hippie eras.

It is also of interest to note; that my attempts to replay the saved reel in Instagram on my Firefox browser yielded a frozen video that soon came to be any of the video media and reels just not wanting to work.

When I opened the same in Google Chrome, the reels played just fine. Again, I'm not openly saying there's anything to it, but it makes you wonder just who's really watching as well.

Let me know your thoughts if you want. Stay strong my fellow Moonwalkers. His voice, his charm, his existence, and his love are more needed today than ever before as the events he warned us of are now coming forefront in a world of turmoil & excess consumption, and distraction.

I love you all! X's & O's to you all as we navigate the 2025 year. I also apologize I don't post often. I've honestly spent a lot of my tooling time in my office deciding if I wish to put my full soul into literary ventures or if I should diverge into something else. Only Time will tell if my mind changes or not. 

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First Time to LA...

...Rolling like a Rock Star Farce

Bonjour my loves~
Firstly; Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, and Joyous whatever you celebrate!

In a way, my Christmas gift was received about two or three weeks ago (time flies, doesn't it?). While I have been a bit of a couch moocher while staying at Jag's place while my house has been getting repaired, I've mostly spent much of the time out and about & utilizing Jag's bodyguard, Bruno, as a stand-in shopping boyfriend. A few enjoyable days of gift buying and, admittedly, utilizing Bruno's feral senses to test outfits. I still tend to get wrapped up in being a bit of a sexual tease at times.

In all honesty, Bruno is a bit of a hunk-style guy. He gives off that mix of mild womanizer and soft teddy bear. He's not really my type, yet I have had intimacy with him in the past.

ANYWAYS! Back onto the topic. About two or three weeks ago, I made my first trip to Los Angeles, California. Jag, Bruno, KaiMei, a friend & her husband, along with myself.

Last year, the event was an in-person affair. Jag & the aforementioned friend, who goes by the nickname Pumpkin, had gone and wanted to go again this year.

This year, the event was streaming only. Thus, the group decided to go to LA and stay someplace to watch the stream. Jag set up an AirB&B that was amazing, yet also cost like $6K (!).

I'll have a photo below & a link to the website of this accommodation. It felt like being a rock star & I may have let our awards night bender get a bit wild on my part. I couldn't pass up some naughty pool fun with Kai Mei while we ordered food and watched the Awards show. 

Sourced from Air B&B Listing linked Below - Pool at Night

The Grove 5 Bedroom Villa - https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/15361680

The awards show was one hell of an interesting watch. We stayed the extended 3-day weekend & a huge culture shock (bucket list?) item to live like an LA high roller. I drank way too much alcohol while also eating well beyond my own body weight in food.

I loved the experience & I'd do it again! I'll wait until next year to find out if they are going again. I also must admit my jealousy of Pumpkin's occasional Japan trips.

An additional bucket list item I'd love to accomplish someday.

Until then, however. Have a great holiday darlings, & amazing New Year! Sending all my blown kisses and warm hugs!

xoxo

A first time...

 ... that wasn't as good as another first time.

In August I submitted, on a whim, what was the sum of my blog short bio to a publication. I did not expect much from it honestly. After a brief of radio silence, a response was received to what I would have expected.

Take this not as me bemoaning a author career I never had. I am just passing alone updates of this step from my comfort zone. I won't be tossing my hands to trash in disgust nor swearing from slathering emotion to paper. Just coming full circle on this first time submitting something outside of my bubble. 

I hope you are all enjoying the transition into spooky season and the chill of Autumn and Winter. I've already started wearing more of my long sleeve and sweaters as the temps drop and the girls get chilly. I'm sure others of the busty persuasion of figure can attest to the chill your breasts. I also, personally at least, am not always a fan of my nipples being noticed in my tops when the cold affects them. 

Silver's girlfriend and my fellow friend really enjoys the Halloween season. So we'll be enjoying a fun evening on Thursday for the Hallows Eve including food, friends, and maybe some fire water even.  It'll be fun!

Hoping i can be able to post more often, but life and the separation from the internet does tend to improve a already troubled mind. Our current timeline of life is bombarded by negative & pain for the sake of "content" that I honestly cannot be bothering my time with. I highly urge you all to spend time away from the internet and more with nature, friends, lovers, and yourself. 

Until our next digital meeting. kisses!

No fancy title...

... cuz' reasons

You can thank my cycle for my added presence this month, lovelies. More so, I desired to stay in bed all day today and need to feel like I am accomplishing a form of importance instead of impotence.

Two friends of mine have brought the internal tug-of-war within my literary space between my ears. The exceptionally talented of the two is an adjunct instructor of literary persuasion and has been encouraging me to submit writings to be published.

I've been supplied with a good starting step source website to look for appropriate options for publishers.

Yet, I am apprehensive. The mix of my shit self-esteem, undiagnosed ADHD potential, & self-doubt try to proverbially gang-bang me into feeling my writing is not suitable for publishment.

I have to shake those flakes of darkness & figure out the logistics of it all - as well as wait for Mother Nature to stop giving me period pains & listless moods.

I do hope to look into it more & being published would be a fun little gold star for my very shattered and jaded ego. We'll see in the future.

I'm going to finish my grilled cheese and soup and go to bed. I know it's hot as an oven outside, but I need my nostalgia comfort right now.

Until next time Lovelies! 💋

Blast from the past...

...not fit for use today.

Am I starting to seem like that man after marriage who only comes once a month if you're lucky? God knows I have been feeling that these past few months while I try to - never mind. I digress.

Visitors and avid lurkers may have noted my direction and focus on writing & general liberal arts. I felt willing to slip away from the covers of not letting people into my life through photography.

I'm not keen on giving the internet roamers access to more pieces of a puzzle called my life so they can start their perverse hunt for the soul behind the ink (even if it is digital). However, pictorial context is necessary to flesh out the archeological findings I uncovered within my storage unit after helping my parents declutter Mama & Papa's things.

Hidden under some sheets and boxes was an old Underwood Champion typewriter. Sadly, it's well beyond its operative lifespan. It is an amazingly majestic artifact of the Gilded Age of literary drafting. A time before autocorrect & backspace or delete keys, when you felt the tactile indentations of the letters within the keys, the force of your digits produced the leverage to strike each character onto your paper.

This gem also harkened to a time of solitude within a study or room as it was only you, your thoughts, your typewriter & the sounds of your typing as you spilled the inner machinations of your story into your fingertips and onto the page with ribboned ink. There is a very romantic, dare I say literarily erotic aura, which a typewriter commands your attention upon its sight.

Truly, I wish this typewriter from my grandparents was functional to use. Yet - I share here its form for my fellow literary souls who may appreciate the sensual forms of its key sets, feed drum, & strike arms - which once would write worlds onto woven sheets of fiber.

I hope to find an old Smith Corona unit someday that speaks to me & maybe when that day comes, I will have something aged like wine within my conscious to strike to paper. Until then - please enjoy these two photos I took & until next time I see you, my lovelies ~ goodnight!

 

Underwood Champion Typewriter (Manual Operation)

Underwood Champion Key Set and Striker Rack

 

💋P.S. I am in no way an expert on typewriter terminology, so the naming of parts I say are most likely nonsense to true experts.
 

Forcing you to worship my...

 ... King

Below is a clip from Oprah, who I am not a fan of, which comes around the internet at times in my view.

Few artists - few men (Especially in this day & age) have the talent and sheer creative prowess to create good music but also to be an entire band with simple beatboxing.

There are so many complex, happy, sad, & unreal thoughts or feelings I have remembering this god that was outcast by our society that believed a corrupt media that wanted him gone from attention. The man was a humanitarian who did good deeds whether seen nationally or not. People still come to light of Michael doing things for them and helping the helpless, none of which we ever knew because he never wanted it televised or publicized.

It's why I will never stand next to the "modern kings" of music. They can't hold my fucking bra strap compared to the greatness that was MJ.

Please enjoy this gold that came up on Instagram late tonight as I fight insomnia episodes again. Keep an eye on the original post comments about how Prince could play 79 instruments while MJ made endless instruments for himself.

Click the Image to go to the post, the Instagram embed thing doesn't want to work with me and my half awake brain. 

Pillow Talk...

   ...At bedtime

I think I had mentioned this in a prior post; God knows I don't recall all due to the whirlwind of neurological processes in my brain all going at once, the practice of "moonbathing."

So why don't I take this moment of zen listening to my mechanical keyboard keys to talk more about my experience? 

First, I must lead you into this with descriptives of what "moonbathing" is. Bearing in mind that I am no expert and going off of information from my friend who does this much more than me. 

"Moonbathing," put simply, is sleeping with your window coverings open to allow the moonlight to shine indoors and lay upon your body. She advises, for best results, a bed closer to a window that gets lots of moonlight and that you do so nude. 

You have read that last sentence correctly & I hope you perverted readers are at least kind with your imaginative imagery of me nude, but also don't. It's creepy. 

So, I started trying this process as winter arrived & I went head-on with the full-nude option. My first concern was the chill, so I invested in a nice heavy-weighted blanket for my bed. On some of the coldest nights, I was very comfy and sometimes even had to use my lighter blanket because I felt too warm. 

I found myself quickly feeling more rested in the morning & there was an almost surreal feeling from the chill of the winter air on my skin as I undressed at night and the instant warmth of the cloth of my blanket as I tucked into bed. I started using a thinner top bedsheet since the weather has been warmer at night.

I believe there is something about the human body and its ability to sense & determine touch via sensations delivered to our brains. Feeling the softness & weave of your bed linens with parts of your bare body align you with your core existence. It can be considered perverse, primitive, relaxing, or simply awakening.

I scoffed at the idea & the much deeper meanings my friend ordained unto me of this process. My experience of throwing caution to the wind and trying to normalize myself walking nude within my private space before bed has afforded me better sleep, a new appreciation for sitting in my bed to stare at the moon, & a new level of comfort. 

I honestly can recommend this to anyone to try. It also helps with self-image and body image as you must face yourself at your core form. I type this sitting in my bed with my MacBook on my lap, looking at my screen horizon above my bust. My ceiling fan is on tonight with the warmer temps outside & I may start my restful pursuits atop my top sheets and migrate lower if a chill surfaces. 

I know this post was very randomly topical. I apologize for that. I have sadly been lazy and worthless in advance of my life. Many days, I spent working at the diner and then coming home to be a glutton and hibernate in bed watching TV or internet videos. I'm sure many would call this a form of self-care. 

I'm hoping for great days for those of you who come to read my blog. Until next time I post, au revoir ♥!

*  Yes, I had very basic French in High School. 

** I also enjoy pre-bedtime music to fuel possible dreams, which has become more intimate feeling during this process. Plan to vibe again tonight to this Video DJ Set from 1st Place, a Virtual Media company responsible for Vocaloid IA.  Click the image below to check it out yourself!

Source Image from :: https://www.pngwing.com/en/free-png-bmzxm

I'm just a bag full of...

 ... hyper-fixation & procrastination

 

Is it reversive parasocial to feel bad for not posting more on a blog to an audience that may not even exist? I'm most guilty of the rampant seduction of the offline life I have been living as of late. My mind and body, a swing set filled with emotions of swinging forward and back, all trying to see who can rock the framework from the soil first.

Where must I begin with updates?

Have you the time?
Have you slipped yourself into the most coziest attire?
Have you acquired a tea, coffee, wine, or choice of beverage?
Brace for a long entry - tentative on my level of ADHD for tonight.

Firstly, my mental health has been good. Overall, my mind has been peaceful from a darkness and anger menu. I have spoken with my professional therapeutic counselor (Therapist, in simple terms) on the topic of hypersexualization. Of course, we start my blog for the year on sex, huh?

It is an important topic that I feel needs focus. As readers of my blog may have noticed, more so if you follow Jag's Twitter, is that I have spent the end of 2023 on a sexual high. It was enough of a problem that eventually, KaiMei asked for a pause in our times of intimacy. Jag's bodyguard has a long history of groupies and suited an exotic opportunity for me with larger sizing compared to prior lovers I've been with.

Dr. Sprivzy explained that both Men & Women can, at times of stress and traumatic triggering, use the sensation of sexual interactions to disassociate from the emotions of pain, hurt, or sadness. I had some heightened stress at the end of the year with finishing the semester of schooling, and I fought some holiday blues. I found myself entertaining Jag and her bodyguard for the holidays, enabling reach to a consenting muse in "relieving stress" in private.

A part of me still feels mild shame in the marks left on my bed, the imagery of my face in the bathroom mirror, the feeling of my body pressed against the shower tile. The beginning of this affair of craven lust came with the introduced new sensations that come with female reproductive organs introduced with increasingly proportionate size than used to. Can you tell I am dancing around the details to feint some form of decency in my presence? Needless to say. 2023 ended with me whoring my body in the name of disassociation.

For the last month or so, I have been trying to confront my feelings and the discomfort associated with the head-on approach. Sometimes, I do need to still "blow off steam" and have regulated myself to the silicone stand-ins under my bed.

Beyond that struggle with my sexual health, I completed the last semester of technical college. I have not graduated, but I am at an impasse if I will return the next session. I still stand undecided about my fate and career beyond the walls of education. The time-tested claims of the institution have also become riddled with holes over the last decade, putting their claims in question in my mind. I've never grown out of the indecisiveness of my path in life.

My income, which many speculate all the avenues of possibility, will disappoint many of the perverse or hopeful wanderers of their dirty minds. I detest and have yet to come to terms with my family's wealth being a crutch that my sister takes advantage of constantly, even to this day. Yet I still receive "gifts" from my parents, who felt their daughter working for her funds degrades the family name.

I also work part-time at a local diner as a waitress and am compensated for my time when I join Jag on her livestreams. These income streams allow me to live in my home, enjoy being with loved ones, and continue to find lovers and self-appreciation.

An acquaintance through my friend announced her engagement to her boyfriend of many years. My friend's lover (direct bloodline of the bride-to-be) has been at odds with the bride-to-be about the guest lists and details. It is all very multifaceted in form, the drama, and the issues they are working out. I hope the best for the couple on their wedding and life together. They are super cute together & good friends of mine and KaiMei's.

The weather has been very spontaneous thus far. We are now back into the tease of spring. I have transitioned between warmer cotton and fleece PJs on cold nights. Cotton bra and panties when warmer. The earlier mentioned lover of a friend has always told me the benefits of sleeping nude, more so within a room where your bed position allows moonlight to shine upon you at night.

I have tried her suggestions as of late once it was warm enough. It's best not to catch hypothermia in your bedroom. From the nights I have tried this form of sleep, I've felt better and more rested. I may have mentioned this journey in prior entries but stopped doing so as temps dropped. It may be my hypersexualization issues coming to face, but there is a feeling of safety and freedom in feeling your bedsheets against your bare skin. Dare I mention the touch of those sheets against sensitive areas as well? It's difficult to explain, and I suggest you try it yourself.

I think that is everything I can think of for now, and this entry must be miles long by now. I am still doing okay while making forward progress. I hope the same for all of you. You know, the lost internet wanderer who has stumbled across my blog. 

Return to my Roots...

... Cheer Squad

Long time no - write?

Life still keeps me from writing or even thinking of what to write, but I thought it an interesting tidbit to share about an event I was at near the end of November.

Studious creepers (who read my biography section) will note the time I spent in the Cheer and dance squad in school. I did so with my friend Silver, which is a story of its own, considering her more gothy vibes. Coincidently, her niece was also in Cheer.

About 3 or 4 years ago, the high school from which all 3 of us had graduated wanted to do something special for homecoming & the niece, Beth, thought of the idea for former squad members to do a routine together. It would be a hit with three prior graduated class squads dancing to music that each would have used at the time.

Fast Forward to this past November as the 2023 Senior team would be playing the final championship game at home. Our last Senior team sweep was actually during my senior year - our team kicked some serious ass to win that spot.

To commemorate this year's seniors getting to that prestigious spot & at a home game, I and the others got asked to join in the halftime festivities and help on the sidelines. Of course, we agreed & set to getting our uniforms slightly altered. Let's be honest; in Senior Year, or even the last time we did this event, I measured as thin & busty. While busty is still on the menu, "thin" has become average.

The night comes. Silver & Beth look amazing in uniform & we have the music set up and have practiced with the others for the past month. We walk in & one of the current senior Cheerleaders makes a smart-ass comment about bringing in the Old Folks Home. It's apparent the lack of respect current generations tend to have.

Beth was the only one who couldn't let it slip and snipped back a comment I will only paraphrase as containing information about us getting "more dick than that girl's ugly face could land her." I honestly just tried to ignore it. I knew our routine would speak for itself & in the end, it did.

Long story short, our squad showed the newer generation how it is done. Our music was on point, and we seemed to be the loudest squad during the game, rooting for the team and trying to keep the crowd energized. The Southstar All Stars won State Championship status for 2023. We girls left at the end of the game & decided to be naughty and laid waste to the local Denny's. I hadn't been there in a long time & ate way too much food, but it was worth it.

Part of me wanted to see if Kai Mei wanted to play naughty Cheerleader, but I figured I had enough energy used for the night. It's bad form if you fall asleep in the middle of sex. At least, that's my understanding.  

It was a fun night to reunite with my old classmates & friends to show we still had it.

I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving holiday or Friendsgiving for those of you who don't wanna celebrate the massacre of natives gaslit into a story of peace. I also wish you all a great Christmas Holiday & New Year if I don't find myself back writing here before then. 💋

Uninspired...

...into Hiatus

I'm aware it's been over a month now since I posted. The simple truth is a lack of inspiration, being overwhelmed by in-life events, & personal plateau of calm.

The honest touch of literary endeavor bears moments of sharp claws to pull your soul into words. Yet also moments of that hand slowly falling from your shoulder. The words do not come. Your inner demons are quiet and content.

Life comes in ebb & flow, as does inspiration. I've been feeling less discourse. Kai Mei and I have kept things platonic. Jag has been busy with her venue and being the rockstar she is. I've been in a few of her streams from time to time. Nothing has triggered my past or pain to transcribe into literary gold.

As Autumn and Winter are near, I bask in the chill air, bringing me permission to sweaters, extra-long sleeves, and spiced coffee.

I've tried to lend an ear to a friend struggling with life and being deep in financial unrest. Things have been rough for many people, bearing with economic issues and the senseless gain of hateful minds.

The best I can offer is the initial statement. That literary movement requires the inspiration of life and pain. Beyond that becomes the realm of fiction and the cognitive exercises to think outside your comfort zone.

I have great respect for authors of fiction & their skill to take on the task of bringing words to a character or troupe from thin air. Those who dig into their created world and the world of reality for inspiration are not just authors but craftsmen of their craft. I use "craftsman" as the general term it was once contrived. I do not use the term to thrust absent gender onto these geniuses of the script.

One of my friends is a very talented craftswoman who has done her time learning her craft in college, gaining her Master's Degree, and is now looking to bring her work out into the published world. I exude all my possible love to her and her journey to become published & I know it will come to fruition.

I hope, in time, I will find more inspiration for posts. I also feel like this blog shouldn't become filled with senseless pinpoints about nothing. We will have to see how things progress.

Until next time.

Fast Updates...

 ... from the girl behind the text

After posting such a personal post, I felt it foolish to add minuit updates of a more upbeat tone in the same breath.

Last month, July, marked 3-years of life after the events talked about in my previous post. I have a long road ahead, but I am optimistic that I will not find myself where I was those years back.

Below is a moving song by AmaLee on YouTube (Monarch on Twitch). I have always found my peace with music & Jag is one to tell others my tastes in music are Avant-garde. The variety offers so many onion layers of warmth to my life and soul when I listen to or share them. Please enjoy this snippet I share with you.

 

 

A male artist friend - I always question the need for gender-stressing those who I interact with - has been playing around with an AI art-generating website. He has sent me some renders he created of me that range from beautiful to very glitchy. I'll add one of the better ones below.

He has a blogger post talking about his view of this art form. I know of the polarizing sides to this & so I avoid the battlefield. I, however,  find these images quite fun & feel he makes good points in favor of AI. I'll link his blogger below as well. 

©2023 Dave McCoy, using Live3D AI Art Generator

CelixDog's Blog - CelixBook

It's very late now. I should put the laptop away & pull the sheets over my body to sleep. ~Goodnight Loves.

Monthly Posts...

 ...unintentionally

I honestly have made the self-realization that my posting schedule has been mostly monthly.

My house has slowly been becoming quieter. The sister group has relocated to their near-finished abode. Jag, and I hope I am not speaking out of turn, has been narrowing herself down to the thought of centralizing herself. I can't talk for her, so I won't & I hope I am not spoiling future news.

All of this recent opening of my space has brought on the sadness of reality back, making me feel less distracted by all the wonderful people around me and again focus on - me.

I decided to flip through an old diary of mine. A difficult part of this finding myself has been gathering the proverbial balls to look at my writings from before my attempt. It was hard to flip through the pages of what are, at face value, pure hate and vitriol of myself. Below is a snippet of an entry I wrote the night before my suicide attempt.

Advanced Warning. For triggering dark, hate-filled self-reflection. Yet this was how far I was gone at the time. I, again, shall never find the words or actions that would properly repay KaiMei for his heroism that day and for saving me.

" Selfish, worthless bitch. Laid unto the ground, stabbed countlessly to death by emotionless men. Countless times to wish it was blood, not lust, filling the gape. If only his dirty cock measured in length to reach my black heart. Silence this waste of life! "

 ~ ♦ ~

"My vagina still feels filled with warm skin as I vomit alcohol, semen, and blood in my bathroom. Just holding this goddamn pen tasks all my will between bouts with my head in a porcelain bowl of shame. If a god truly lived about this earth - he must smite such a shameful failure of whore as I."

~ ♦ ~

" Goodbye, god-forsaken hell. I sign this last entry with the blood of my veins before doing what god himself is too ball-less to commit! My last entry, Curse all those who find these books of the failed bitch. My blood is on your hands in such depth as they will be on mine. A Fucked society of perfection that only rapes the lost, like me, into death. Today is my correcting of error. Goodbye, good riddance!"

*Notation: The reference of death within the first entry comes from a song by Cutting Crew called " (I just) died in your arms". The song's usage of death comes from french "la petite mort" ((the little death)) being used as a metaphor for an orgasm.

 

These are the entries of the week prior up to the day of. I felt no one knew love to me, only hate & lust. Society and its pressures had pushed me into what felt to be a self-served abduction into mindless compliance. I was drinking heavily and vomiting the mornings after from hangovers & alcohol poisoning. I allowed myself to be a toy to men who saw no value in me & thus instilled a lack of self-worth in my self-image.

The book, which I refuse to post imagery of, does have my blood stained through its pages from the final entry. I recall snippets of using a box-cutting knife to slice my palm open to smear the blood onto the book before placing it on my face in tears, tearing at my clothes from the pain I felt from the cut.

I am not recounting these details to scare my readers, footnote a horror story, or inspire such acts by others. I do so as a record of opening this book, my forsaken scripture, feeling more power than I did the day I last wrote within its papers. I shed tears reading these few pages and realizing the real power and size of the demons I nearly lost the war too.

This diary ended on that entry and will remain as such. It rests with my other private collections to be, as earlier dubbed, a dark scripture of my lowest past. To show me what rock bottom looks like and how far I have and will continue to come from that point. It will also remind me that when I believed no one loved me, someone did. So much so - as to risk their safety and health to save my life.

As my home begins to empty of all the life with such characters and unique experiences, I must remind myself that when I am alone, the demons will again try to reclaim their prey. I have a long road to fight while trying to find myself - My true self.

That road brought many people into my home & so many unexpected events and, at times, downfalls.

One example is falling into my old ways with Bruno, Jag's Bodyguard. Yet I cherish the opportunity to have experienced that form of pleasure in a way in which I controlled and felt beauty instead of pain and hate.

I shall close out this entry so I may go to bed. I shall do so by asserting to you, my readers, know that someone loves you. No matter how doubtful the thought or sheer audacity, you mean the world to someone close to you. Never let your demons tell you otherwise!  

I close this entry by wishing you a good night, or day, filled with small victories. I love all of you who read or visit this blog. I do not have the time to mince words to strangers, we are all connected & my love of you is true no matter our connection within reality.

😘 xoxo

 

I Popped Online...

... Neighbors Popping outside.

I feel it's time for a shift in gears, grinding them like a mad thing as I've never learned manual driving, of course, to talk or share more on the human condition.

My list of vices and self-destruction à la carte does not include alcoholism. One can easily vouch for my bouts with alcohol. Lightweight and easily molded after just a few.

This video came to my attention from one of my gal pals of late late-night show host Craig Ferguson. He is speaking on a podcast, from what I can tell, on addiction and overcoming it with the host. His words target alcoholism - but are profound for all who struggle with the battle within. So I am sharing it as a way for others to watch as well and hear very sound advice and perception from someone who found rock bottom thru his own battle with himself, persevered past it, & now speaks of sobriety as a ongoing battle.



Enjoy~

When you're being a dick...

...instigating sexual advances of your dream dick.

Two months & a day since my last entry, a blur of spaced time filled with withdrawals, stress, and falling hard into destructive habits.

I preface this forthcoming story with the fact that myself & Jag have talked & I have seen the error in my ways.

But I also footnote that statement with what I've touched upon in a past Tumblr blog I once had. Partly what fueled my wish for an end was the path of self-destruction of my worth & sexual values. I found myself wrapped in events that led to me abusing myself with the use of my body with no regard for my safety and having sex with men I didn't know. Simply put, I hated myself and found false value in acting like the sex toy of others.

I won't harp on this & I'm sorry this shall fall into the grey area of sexual posts. Yet I also feel others like myself should also understand sex is not a metric of your value. I age myself by expressing displeasure with the national sentiment of younger women acting like their vagina is the key to success. Similarly, the idea of treating men like objects and toys - sex should be a cooperative union.

Calling the kettle black, I feel deep into my destructive muse while Jag and her Bodyguard stay in my home. Stating details many did not ask for,  Jag's bodyguard, Bruno suits his title. This man is tall and muscular and presents himself as confident. He also has what some women consider the sexual dream man to make personal pornography videos with. Frankly, his manhood is one of the larger I've had. I warned you all of what degree this may take in personal information.

As a group of three, we have had our time being overly opinionated and our style of lewd commentary. For whatever reason, I started abusing this open banter by instigating occasional mini-affairs. Occasional became nightly unto morning shower sex and afternoon or night sessions, shamefully gasping that thick man as he penetrated me in the shower bringing me to climax.

I lavished on this while becoming blind to it turning problematic. After Jag walked in on us twice and angrily, the final time, pulled him away from me and sent him away, we fought. Foolishly I tried to justify my acts & turned her trusted words to me against her. Jag left the house, Bruno in tow, until this afternoon when we finally patched the rift with the starter foundation.

Long & short of it. I am trying to once again recover from a momentary relapse. Part of me feels down and hurt by what I've done, and the other part is still on the high of what moments I lived out from my darkest, most deprived self. Now I must heal others whom I have hurt along with myself.

I hope everyone else has had a less drama filled few months. Maybe you are living this fleeting pornstar lifestyle with your forever love. I truly hope that for everyone. Just be sure to use condoms and be responsible. Your body is a temple, and worship is for the beauty and being beyond your body's features. A lesson I still am struggling to learn to live by.

Until next time, I still have a house full of guests and crave late-night snacks.

Updates...

... between life & satin.

Two weeks later, my initial hopes of personal fun with Kai Mei are thwarted upon realizing the mix of many guests and my sexual sensitivities prove problematic.

My friend's farmhouse has been repaired, for the most part, and she has decided to return, taking KaiMei with her. Thus my bed returns to its lonely chilled state. Noting KaiMei is her brother.

The residents of the conversion barn, leveled by the tornado, remain. A unique mix of personalities, bodies, & ideals indeed. One girl is quite shy and homely-minded, yet her bust rivals mine. The other two tend to be more social and outgoing.

We've had some great conversations & times thus far. KaiMei plans to rebuild the barn conversion anew for the girls. Their sister has visited on and off as well. She lives in the downtown area here in Valley Pines, but her apartment doesn't have enough beds to cover everyone & I don't mind them staying.

Jag was hit the most by the storm, sadly. Her tour bus also was destroyed & currently, she has been staying with me as well. It would be the second bus destroyed by a tornado since she decided to arrive in Arkansas.

She's been quiet about it, but I can tell she's hurt and trying to figure out her next steps. Bruno has been in LA doing work. He hasn't been able to break free from it. So I guess we are now riding freestyle and learning about the other guests. Hoping we will, maybe, stream again at the Venue to liven our spirits.

I just wanted to make a quick update on things. Sorry, it's not more poetic lately for entries.

🌪️ Bad Weather...

... brings a house full of friends.

 If you've kept up with trending things tonight or the news in general. A significant tornado outbreak occurred today into this evening from Arkansas to Wisconsin. Many cities have been struck by tornados and storm damage, sadly one of which was Southstar Glen.

Outside the city, it is frozen in time with the old farms and homes and an old diner and steel bridge, which bring positive and negative emotions. My friends live out there along with Jag live in her tour bus. The property is a farm built in the 1800s and has seen mild disruptions from storms in the past. Today was not as lucky.

Jag lost her tour bus, I was out at the farm this evening & the bus looks like a gutted tin can wrapped around an old oak tree on site. The farm took a near-direct hit leaving the outbuilding used as a guest suite leveled and damaging KaiMei's car shed. The house also lost sections of the roofing, broken windows, and siding. The deck KaiMei built a few years back was also ripped apart and scattered into the field.

The bridge is now adorned with insulation from the farmhouse and Jag's tour bus. Tree limbs and entires trees dot the roadway, graveyard, and farm. It was an emotional downfall for many of us, but everyone was safe and okay physically.

For now, my house has become HQ as 5 people now stay over. Jag was in New York City. Some of said guests also had their sister over at the guest building. She will head back to Valley Pines to her apartment with her boyfriend. Some of those guests may stay with her next week.

Needless to say, it will be a little cozy. Kai Mei will sleep with me in my room, this time for actual sleeping, while others will share the guest rooms. Jag plans to stay in New York until she decides on her next steps.

Today has been taxing for me mentally, but the amount of love in my home and knowing I am helping people who helped me is warming.

The farmhouse will be fixable, the guest building a loss, but rebuildable. Kai Mei's cars mostly survived safely & insurance will help front the costs of the damages. The tornado carried across a field into my friend's farm and across the road before weakening. I hope it did not touch down further away and cause more damage or injury.

Stay safe Fam. These storms today made a mess & in the morning we will need to begin cleaning up and mentally processing the events. I don't live in the area, but visiting afterward is surreal & it makes me understand a tiny example of what those affected might feel when faced with the loss of their livelihood.

Part of me is greedy and is excited to have Kai Mei in my bed for the whole night. Part of me missed waking up with his arms around me, feeling the touch of his manhood against my ass from such close contact.

My Music Pet Peeve...

...Fucking Remasters

After sitting in bed with the laptop on my productivity floof and music bonding with a friend between messenger & Spotify (I'd credit your Blog Jel's, but I don't know if you're active anymore), I tasked myself to find a song that I love and realize the original does not exist on the music service. 

It only comes as "REMASTERED".

Which is very much infuriating! 

The song in question is "Don't Lose My Number" by Phil Collins from the 1985 No Jacket Required Album. I own this vinyl in good condition, yet I would like my digital fix available in the same rough and gritty 1985 sound. Coincidently, one of the perks of once working in a record store was getting my hands on the good stuff before it went to the floor. 

This post is nothing more than to rant, beg, plead, and maybe whore myself (if necessary) for people to stop replacing the original raw gritted audio on internet music archives with these remasters. You can remaster songs but keep the original available, as well, for the screwed-up types like myself who are hardcore for the original. 

Had to use the 12" Extended Mix for my playlist. You can hear it below in the embed as well if you like. It's a classic banger from a true treasure in music, Phil Collins. Just... Stop with the remastering shit, please, music labels!