Desultory and Impulsive

Why is it not manly to cry?
Why is acceptable for women to cry?
 
Because women don't like men emotionally weaker than they are and guys don't like it either.

There is certainly some truth to that.

But one can not be strong in every circumstance.
 
On my way to feeding the chickens I got to feeling stupid that I don't post more pictures of myself.

Then I got to feeling stupid for having posted pictures of myself.

Who cares?

Much like tonight, I'm usually pretty high on Ambien when I peek at your thread, so I really appreciate when there's a photo or two to scroll by.

These are a few of my favorites from this thread -

http://forum.literotica.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=1954740&d=1480647224
http://forum.literotica.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=1959544&d=1481854899
http://forum.literotica.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=1994598&d=1492430165
http://forum.literotica.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=1954372&d=1480563407
http://forum.literotica.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=1905448&d=1472433007

One night I was super fucked up (I mean like drooling on myself) & I went through the pics in your other thread .... some were really good, even for you. Did you take them all or did you have help with some?
 
Although resilience and venting of emotions certainly play a part, but here's some phrases that pretty much capture how boys/young men are taught resilience...

"Cowboy-up"
"Buck-up"
"Chin-up"
"Grow-up"
"Man-up"
"Push that shit down"
"Walk it off"
"Deal with it"

I could go on.

Pick any one of those and outline for me how a man can (free of any sense of shame) go about being open with his emotional feelings.

I was raised by my dad...I've heard every phrase in this list but with the added pleasure of also hearing...don't dress like that, you're asking to get raped....don't go for a walk and blame me if someone hurts you. ...etc adnoseum...
 
Much like tonight, I'm usually pretty high on Ambien when I peek at your thread, so I really appreciate when there's a photo or two to scroll by.

...


One night I was super fucked up (I mean like drooling on myself) & I went through the pics in your other thread .... some were really good, even for you. Did you take them all or did you have help with some?

I think I may like you.


I take all my own photos and find the thought of another taking such photos of me... challenging.
 
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I was raised by my dad...I've heard every phrase in this list but with the added pleasure of also hearing...don't dress like that, you're asking to get raped....don't go for a walk and blame me if someone hurts you. ...etc adnoseum...

That all is something I would like to feel inside you while being inside you.
 
There is certainly some truth to that.

But one can not be strong in every circumstance.

And such circumstances are forgivable. A guy that sees another man weeping at the loss of his wife, child or animal companion and says "man-up" or thinks to himself "pussy" or finds himself embarrassed for the other man ought not reproduce.
 
Mom via voicemail: I need you to call me.

[Call]

Mom: hi

Me: what's up?

Mom: I need you to draw me a picture

Me: oh?

Mom: yeah I need you to draw me another picture like the one you did for me awhile back

Me: okay...

Mom: you know the one I lost. It was of a woman's bare backside.

Me: ...

Mom: she was holding a towel.

Me: ...

Mom: I need it to be 4×7 because I have a frame for it and it's 4×7

Me: ...I'll get right on it.
 
The thing is...

I totally want to fucking do it.

It's been WAY the fuck too long since I broke out the pens, pencils, and ink wells.
 
What sucks is the process of searching for something to go off of.

One would think that with the glut of naked, semi nude, and blatantly pornographic images of women online it would be easy.

This isn't to say I don't like it all. Far from it. It's just that there is a certain something you know? That "click" of a feeling that says "Yes. You. You are the one."
 
At first I thought she was pissed at me. I mean she had a resting bitch face to beat all bitch faces.

The strange thing was that she seemed to go out of her way to make sure she was in my line of vision. She wanted nothing to do with her family or any of her friends for that matter and she kept looking at me as though I had wronged her in some way.

I did what I could to ignore her but she wouldn't have it and I started running through my head thinking about what I may have done and came up with nothing.
 
That "click"

It's a strange phenomenon

This is a photo of my wife that I may have already shared

It's not the best photo for those that need stark clarity
For those that don't
I think you'll get it

Perhaps--like me--even love it


I actually took this photo 3 years ago so the chances of me already having posted it is pretty good. If I did, I wonder what I said about it. I wonder what words came to my mind at the time

Where they about love?
Where they about fucking?


No matter
And no matter this image
It is not something I can sketch

But it is a moment I can still feel
A moment I can still remember
Of a woman
I can still touch.
 
Oh... and also...

To shatter what illusions you may have of what you've not really seen--and bring dismay to those of which such things matter (as well as great pleasure to those attracted to the such) the hair on my head is thin. Like... really thin.
 
There is that persistent fear of having been replaced.

The threat of having been replaced
Of having been so cast aside for someone else that you are nothing
Everything you were is nothing
Everything between you has been reduced down to a shrug of the shoulders

It burns
And in your head you lay awake at night thinking
About how connected you were
And you think of them so easily replicating what you fought against
--with someone else

Someone similar... but different
A more understanding individual
A more novel individual
A person with the same edge as you but just slightly sharper
--more intellectual
--more humorous, articulate, direct.

And what are you to anyone anymore?
Why bother being someone to anyone anymore?

Get up
Put your blinders on and keep your head down
Don't notice and don't be noticed
And pursue your life as it should be pursued

Point--A to Point--B.
 
It's a strange phenomenon

This is a photo of my wife that I may have already shared

It's not the best photo for those that need stark clarity
For those that don't
I think you'll get it

Perhaps--like me--even love it


I actually took this photo 3 years ago so the chances of me already having posted it is pretty good. If I did, I wonder what I said about it. I wonder what words came to my mind at the time

Where they about love?
Where they about fucking?


No matter
And no matter this image
It is not something I can sketch

But it is a moment I can still feel
A moment I can still remember
Of a woman
I can still touch.

The movement works so nicely.

There is that persistent fear of having been replaced.

The threat of having been replaced
Of having been so cast aside for someone else that you are nothing
Everything you were is nothing
Everything between you has been reduced down to a shrug of the shoulders

It burns
And in your head you lay awake at night thinking
About how connected you were
And you think of them so easily replicating what you fought against
--with someone else

Someone similar... but different
A more understanding individual
A more novel individual
A person with the same edge as you but just slightly sharper
--more intellectual
--more humorous, articulate, direct.

And what are you to anyone anymore?
Why bother being someone to anyone anymore?

Get up
Put your blinders on and keep your head down
Don't notice and don't be noticed
And pursue your life as it should be pursued

Point--A to Point--B.

Yes.
 
Can I kiss you back to human?
In a heart hold memory
Of burgundy nails and eyes caught up with me behind them

Behind you

Behind you bent over and still
Shifting hips of where I am

-- where I was



Where I was within you



How can I kiss you human again
My beautiful memory?

How can I go about getting my arms around you as they once had been

Holding you


I want to hold you like how the wind holds a leaf into the air

I want you swept up by me
Like you once were

Before I knew.
 
Played scrabble tonight with 3 other people.

I lost. By a landslide.

And I loved the experience. Because it's what I know.

Now this isn't to say I made every attempt to lose
But we cannot through out self-fulfilling prophecy either.

That aside... it still sucks.
It still sucks because it's the same story.
The same learning disability
The same putting on a happy face because it's just a game

And it is.

Just a game. Quality time.

And I had fun. I did.

It's fun watching people think
It's fun to watch them study their hand and the pieces on the board

The gears turning
The calculations
The connections

It's not fun trying to be like them
Trying to fit in
Seeing the words on the board
And the letters you have and not be able to come up with anything

Am I playing my usual fiddle?
Fucking-A right I am

Singing the song of my people. My right brained special snowflake people.

And I love it

I do. I love it.

I love how evident it all is. I love my frustration of screaming to myself "I WRITE WITH WORDS! I KNOW WORDS! PEOPLE READ MY WORDS! PEOPLE

are...

people are moved by my words."


My competitors... they are smart, beautiful people. I love them. They read. They quote facts and great authors and wax on amongst themselves on the merits of philosophers and politicians and assorted world affairs...

But throw them a pencil to write an original thoughtful string of moving words...

Well--first they will ask why. And you should probably have some kind of rational reason otherwise it's another stupid idea of yours to maintain a level of relevance.



So... I went online to see what boardgames were out there that favored the right side of the brain. All the results lead towards games to improve rational thinking and logic.
 
I'll be stepping out of the office to regroup.

Please hold my calls.
 
I think

It would be interesting to watch you think.

I wonder if maybe your eye brow raises or your fingers drum against your thigh. I'm sure you're constantly thinking. But to see you deep in thought would sure be..

interesting.

How long are you going to keep us on hold for?

:rose:
 
Due to Lillycane...

I've been giving much thought to my thinking the past few days and I'm sorry to say that I have come up with nothing.

At first thought
The thought of someone watching me think kinda made me angry in the "what the fuck do you want? Leave me the fuck... fuck you I hate you. Fuck you. I swear to fuck..." kind of sense.

But then I realized none of it was actually happening and that it was all in my head and none of it would happen and even if it did I wouldn't know it so the point is moot--kind of.

A lot of teeth clenching goes on which in part may explain why my fillings are starting to crack and shatter out. That and you know... age. The fuckers have been in for quite some time.


Truth be told
I don't think at all really.

Just ask the important women in my life

However; when I do get a thought, it's usually inapplicable
Or altogether wrong
So I do what I can to just let it go.
 
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