.
I figured, with two cans of beans down with, in the end, seven brats? Did... I mention I was hungry? And, yes, I did finish the last of it, rather than holding off. Anyway, I figured blood sugar would be stratospheric. It is 116? Okay. Well, though sometimes it takes a while to kick up. So, will see tomorrow.
I keep sensing women. Some I know. Some I definitely don't. Sniffing around the blog. The new couldn't be finding the music, could she? Several, but one with focus. Checking... something, for something, about something. A sense. Women get a feel, and dig until... they find. Intuition? I know that curse, if not all of their problems. Anyway.
I've been enjoying. There are others who, while reading, watching, listening, decided to look at old posts, and music, too. Not a lot. My visitorship has fallen off a cliff. Though, I am not sure how much is real, or when the numbers drop... how much of that is real. No, they... aren't honest. They can adjust any number you see. Don't believe tech, any of it. Or government, or medical even at this point.
Besides? I don't write for you. I write for me. To get things off my chest, out of my mind, or sort and arrange thoughts, memories, dreams, and else. So... I... don't care if ten of you read a month, or 20k. And I don't believe either number, and yes... I... get, at least the latter number, reasonably often. Just, as I said, unlikely to be real. But I'm good with that too.
Oh, but the songs, thoughts... wonderful. I have enjoyed my strange relations with various women, and sorts of women. From boy to... man? It might have been twenty years of chastity since my last, but that was due to my failure, my inability to find a wife, mother of my children. Or... more children. Some of it is my fault, some of it was/is my age and status in America (or lack of enough income), and such. But I definitely still dream, think, day dream, imagine, women, or at least a woman.
So, having my cortex strobed, memories recalled, even in my strangest of walks with women, is... always refreshing. This one, or that, might have been a terrible loss, or a hard memory, at once. But, now, the memories are distant enough that... even the bitter has a more distinct sweetness to it. Memories, like some wines and else, age well... up to a point. I'm still in the well aging memory time.
I didn't get to anything else. But it looks like I'll be going to bed a bit earlier. I will shut most of the windows up there. It is 27 outside. I turned the furnace to 66 hours ago, but it's still 70 up front here. Strange. But, okay. Sleep well, dream well, wake well, work well... in each's time. Good night.
Goodnight, goodmorning. Memories, we tend to suppress the bad and remember the good. Women...Why?... I know the answer,...but WHY? They're... different.
ReplyDeleteOh, they are different. Sometimes they don't realize it though. They don't until it hits them in the face. If, even then, they try to deny it. Reminds me of atheists who know better, but their pride won't allow them to kneel at this time. There are some women who, roughly, get it. Becoming fewer and fewer of those. Indoctrination does that. Denies reality.
ReplyDeleteI hope you aren't the father who tells your daughter she is completely equal, while also fighting tooth and nail to keep men from competing with them in sports. It's men who have misguided many women to their utter destruction. Talk to the 40 something unmarried and/or childless women. Their agony is terrible. They become the truest bitter haters on the planet. They are lib, because they want everyone else to die like they have. Empty and alone.
Hmm? Oh, right.