Contemplation and coffee.

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As I go through mental conniptions regarding women, glide through an early to bed but late wake, and make plans for various projects, the day goes on a bit without me.  Medicine has started to do it's own thing, just as the day and myself do our own things.  For moments they merge, then part.  All good.

My mind was focused on women, a wife really, and why I would contemplate such a relationship given that I have freed myself of want and need.  Oh, truly, I have.  Ah, but the clearing wasn't for it's own purposes.  The cleaning was to prepare myself for a woman, for my part.  Yes, there is that.  A decade, and change, of penance.  Not just to cleanse the body, mind, possibly soul or spirit to a degree.  But also to review and consider what it means to be with a woman.  What women mean, or should mean, in the relationship.  What my duties and responsibilities are.  Heavy things, for one such as myself, but having been brought into God's light.  A new way, if the old way cannot be completely ignored.  Recreating the circuit board, laying new connections and solder over the old.  No new board is possible in this life.

I realize that I am hungry.  Plainly, and simply, of course.  I have always loved the mechanics of the feminine.  Soft skin, soft high pitched voice, big eyes, and of course more on into adult natures.  No toy, as I had it devised, but no duty, this aspect.  Pure pleasure when the hunger exists, if pure pain when hunger is sated and the need for speed in life returns.  To find a middle ground for the majority of the time?  Aye.  Sought and found.  My hunger grows, as I suspect, does my maturity.  Maturity, a beginning of wisdom.  A chance at more, if through less.  A duty, until it becomes a blessed pleasure.  Celibacy taught me to this point, but can take me no further.

And yet more.  For the middling times, when hunger is not in bloom and despise is not waxing, there is a new hunger I have seen.  The hunger for simple companionship of a mixed nature.  A friend, of sorts, or more confidant, teacher, student, coworker in the effort of life, and partner in mutual, even at times exclusive, goals.  Someone to lift, and be lifted through.  Sister, mother, daughter, wife, woman.  The whole package.  In return, all of me, as it is desired or needed, as well.  So much and so little.  How many angels, indeed, can dance on the head of a pin?  Magical questions with so very simple mundane answers.  There is more, but that is enough.  Questions, answers, poems, and prose, I see through these, now, why.  And I see the fullness of my newfound, or refound, hunger.  And I approve, if yet with some trepidation.

As I said, I woke late in spite of going to bed early.  Some odd thing happened, and I pushed through yesterday on little sleep.  A price had to be paid.  I cannot run deficits as I did in my youth, not without... hmm... help.  I have promised to help a friend today, and so I will.  A call to remind.  I simply said I would help today, if later most likely.  I need to find my tools and supplies, get them in order, and get to town shortly.  An hour or two, I suspect.  It is good to be useful, is all.  To decrease the burden of worry on the brow of another is a gift I have received a thousand times over, and so have some great yearning to offer myself.  Shown, they say, before one can see.  But when seen, such cannot be ignored.  Even the blind can be taught to see.  This I know.

Oh, just so you know...  While women get some things I post right away, where men cannot.  Some things are written only of the tongue of men.  There is some crossover, if that is limited.  My recent post, "The beast and the... not harlot" was written in man-tongue.  I sincerely doubt if women will understand that, not... maidens, to be sure.  Wives, mothers more, understand this as few women can.  Having a husband and a son from him, allows her insights a young woman cannot yet know.  Even so, that is limited.  For example, in the song Moth, all but the woman putting pins in the moth is from my perspective.  They are not mixed examples of my sins against women or the world, though some debate some things from ignorance even then.  Difficult to explain without saying too much.  But, no, little ones, I have never been abusive to women.  If anything, when women and alcohol mix, I become an even softer touch if not an outright fool.  I learned long ago that women will put up with much, but not so much put up with a fool.  A complete fool anyway.  Drink only loosens, it does not unbind me as it does with some.  Anyway, just... understand... for the most part, that was written, and played, from the perspective of a man.  You aren't probably going to understand.  Yes, boys and girls are different, men and woman far more so.  If some of us can see into both worlds just a bit more clearly.  So that not even all of it is purely from a man's perspective.  For example, I'm Not an Angel is about both sides of the conundrum, and understanding that while obviously am not an angel, neither  will she be one.  Careful in there, the mind of Doom is a thing to... ponder, not know.  Scoot.

Well...  I need to get going on coffee.  I had a ribeye for breakfast.  I thought about eggs, too, but this was a thick cut.  While in the store, I looked in the sale aisle and found this and others.  Less than $5 a pound, I think.  Enough for today.  I need to digest it, though.  And wake a bit... a lot... more.  An hour doing those things, then I will get my kit together.  Later.