They said she was like a rainbow...

... and I did say that a while ago, I just noticed.

My Rainbow, a rising one, into infinity...

Red, as the beautiful passion that is in Her and in Me
Orange as the rising sun over the rolling hills
A Star close to my heart, burning Yellow to incandescent
Fruitfully Green, promising, the sensual power of Nature inside
Vast and Blue as the skies, around me at all times
Mysteriously and exotically Indigo with depth and weight
Violet, embracing my heart with Her beautiful loving perfume

Ever

I have never loved anyone as much as this woman.

Ever.

I know I will never need anything else as long as I live

Little girl: Please?
Father: I'm not paying attention to you.
Little girl: Pleeeeeeease? Do you want me to cry? I'll cry. Do you want me to cry, daddy? (holds up stuffed owl) Just get this for me and I'll be happy, please?

--Gift Shop, Museum of Natural History

from www.overheardinnewyork.com

The Soft Good Night

Her Soft Good Night

It brings immediate images to my mind. That soft, girl-like good night from Her. Whether it is by itself or one of the many names she calls me. One of the many things I am to Her.

Tender, thoughtful, drifting off to a place that will be safe after we speak. A place She and I will awaken from and live together.

That light voice, like a feather. I can hear it right now. It is stored within me. Deeply.

And I keep it there, lovingly.

Your Soft Good Night

Pandoro (ha!)

I didn't want to open it. I said I did not and had not. Then I did.

And while just thinking about it right now, I feel precisely as I did when I broke the trust given to me and opened it - bloodless, dead, lifeless, anguished, confused. It was there. Shut tight, unopened. And I made it open again. It opens so easily now.

And then. Madness. Much later. I opened it again. Because it stared at me, over and over again. Tempted. Taunted me. Perhaps in the hope to find something there which belongs to the present. Which is ours.

Now it will be gone, and all I wanted was to have Us inside of it. Then it would never have to be opened again, I would just know, that is what she really sees in us and really thinks about me. What she wants me to do. What she wants to relive, but with me. What she needs from me. What makes her feel alive, wanted... what makes her sleep. Happy and Exhausted.

How f(e)ar can I go here...

I wonder now... perhaps if She would just know the blog is here, it would not have to be linked to anything of hers and I could just write away. Ans She knows it is here. For me and her.

Being private in public? Why even do this? Perhaps because I am now so deeply introverted about my life and my ambitions, that I suffer under it and wonder if it is just out there, somewhere... then it helps. As if it is a set of shared thoughts.

I just told her, no matter how complicated things seem to be, they are really incredibly and utterly simple. Are they? To be happy, life has to be simple.

The truth is also more simple than any constructs. And I do not meen lies. I mean place holders one makes for one's self. Thoughts of how things are, were or should be? To calm the thoughts. To make the bad ones go away or at least have their own place. And why does it have to be sexual?

It's difficult being simple. To be a child. But I want it and I will get it. Childish, perhaps.

Just a sales pitch...

Minime

This little guy is something like 28 years old. My moder made him, no idea why... and I found him hidden in a corner somewhere in the old house.

Just the right thing...

I firmly believe
And I know it has worked in the past
That no matter what the mood or situation

If I am the right one...
(And I do know that I am)

Saying precisely the right words
Finding exactly the right gesture
Pointing out that one special detail

Will help and solve and bring out
That smile that shows me how much I am loved
The one I have grown to live for

... and those times when I failed to do these things
To know I learned my lesson
And not forget it
The next time

Still tempting...

I wonder when it will stop and go into the background... but perhaps I am just impatient.

No, I am just impatient.

Dd

Insomnia

After observing and thinking... I have come to the conclusion that the best way to fall asleep when you can't... is to force a smile on your face.

I mean, if you have to force it. Otherwise, just fall asleep. It also makes you look cuter if you smile, and that can't possibly be bad.

To stay asleep, I still insist melatonin works best.

Contact Juggling

Cuddly Moments of the Day

Cuddle-Flashes today:

New York, that Frenchulicious Cafe/Bakery thingie with the excellent salads, the really unamerican bread and you next to me. Sequences of perfection.

Key West, introduction to Merengue with naked Japanese onlooker. Any instance of Merengue thereafter. Any future instance of Salsa.

Face of the Enemy (NHN)

After 48 hours...

"nerve endings begin regrowth
ability to smell and taste improves"

Sounds like Spring in late Summer. Let's see what it tastes like.

I do know that a Benson & Hedges now would taste like failure.

24 hours after last one...

"Chance of a heart attack decreases"

How does that affect heart-ache?

8 hours after last smoke...

"Carbon monoxide level in blood drops to normal
Oxygen level in blood increases to normal"

Yet I do not feel normal at all.

Or perhaps it was that Rothmans Blue 15 years ago that re-defined normality for me?

20 minutes after the last cigarette

"Blood pressure decreases
Pulse rate drops
Body temperature of hands and feet increases."

Hmmm... perhaps I will sweat less?

Create

When you don't create things, you become defined by your tastes rather than ability. Your tastes only narrow & exclude people. So create.