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Dispatches From Dystopia

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Tag Archives: Writing x

End Of Third Quarter

29 Friday Sep 2017

Posted by David in Exercise/ Fitness, Family, Sexual Identity, Sexuality, Uncategorized

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Ramblings, Sex, Writing x

Yes Sirree, Boy!  Where did the time go?  It seems like only last week I was hip deep in the muck of a Presidential Election, but that was 11 months ago.  Now…  

It seems like I was just buying Hallowe’en candy to give away to the urchins pounding on my door, (or, most likely, eat myself).

It seems like only just the other day, I was wondering if I would ever see my abdominal muscles again or weigh under 200 lbs, much less 185.  Had you told me six months ago, I would swim two miles, without stopping, and think nothing of it, I would have laughed. Since April, I have shredded a lot of notions I held about what a 66 year old retiree is supposed to look like and what his capabilities are.

I have also become quite comfortable living with conflicting ideas about politics, relationships, the very nature of love itself.  Try truly not caring about what somebody else thinks, but just love them, not in a superficial and/or a sentimental way. Love someone in the sense that you care about their welfare, that you want to see them live another day. Love someone, expecting nothing out of it for yourself.

Right now the  figurative elephant in my cranium I’m avoiding writing about is sex.  My sexual imagination is rich, deeply influenced by ideas of domination and submission and their accompanying ritual acts.  Yet my sex life is chaste.  I wrote a little story House Boy , detailing a fantasy I had.  There are more up there.

Would I like to act out?  Hell yes, in the worst way, but I know how the real world operates.  I also love the woman I am married to.  That Love and that vow of love I made controls taking any action that contradicts that vow.

And you wonderful people who stop and read what I write, thank you. I read what you share. I am in awe of your courage and willingness to sit at a key board, pound the letters, and sweat blood. 

I am on my way to becoming a writer of online erotica, the least likely job/avocation I thought I would have.  It will be fiction.

“Don’t try this at home, kids!”  will be my motto. But sometimes it just needs to be written.

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