Pretty reckless

So, I'm feeling pretty reckless today.

I am.  I'm on a high and feeling absolutely sensational, invincible - even.  I've managed to cast aside some bad habits permanently.  And replace them with great new choices, that are much healthier.  I'm going back to my roots, discovering all the things that make me happy and feel like it's a brand new world.  Like a child I'm finding joy in the simplest of things.  I'm finding new hobbies and looking for ways to improve myself.  I don't feel the weight of negativity pulling me down and it's a freedom I haven't felt since I was in my late 20's.  I'm attracting all kinds of wonderful and happiness into my life, right now.  Better choices, better everything.  I feel like I'm about to sprout wings and fly.  Yes - spring is here.  ...... it is without a doubt my favorite time of the year! 

I haven't felt this alive in a long time.  I feel like a ball of energy, even my sleeping habits are changing.  Fate truly does love the fearless!!  I'm finally traveling down that road, I've previously only dreamt about.  I'm making things happen in my life and in turn for the people I love and care for and it feels so good.  I've stopped procrastinating and putting everything off.  I'm always preaching life is a journey, so yeah - why not make my own?!!

Loving myself was the best choice I could make.  I feel empowered.  I feel blessed.  I've opened myself to accepting good things; good luck, happiness, love and light.  Loving myself was one of the hardest things.  I think I was coasting through my life loving everyone else and just hanging on, focused too much on others, situations, my past.  Perhaps, I was what was standing there blocking good things from happening in my life.  And though I could find something positive in many a negative situation, I was blocking good luck and love.  I was suffocating and I needed to breathe.

I've made a lot of drastic changes recently.  Some very difficult and emotionally wrecking choices.  I've still got more to make, but I'm finally breathing.  Sometimes I hurt, but I'm able to breathe and wake up each day and find hundreds of things to be grateful for and excited about in my life, that make my life so worth living.  Learning to love myself is also about learning to love my life.  So what doesn't work, I'm changing.  It's been epic.  The tears I cry now are joyful and happy ones.  It's taken me a while to get here, to find peace within myself.  I'm able to appreciate the smile I see in the mirror now.  I'm still sorting through a few things and there will likely be even more changes in the days and months ahead,  I'm so very excited. 

I'm not seeking anyone's approval anymore, I'm not fighting for approval anymore, I'm not providing explanations for the choices I make anymore, either.  If I don't like something or someone, or the way I was treated - I am speaking up and voicing my opinion.  I want the respect I deserve.  I've fought too hard in my life to get here and I'm not about to let it all go.  Those people that love me and know how much I have to offer, will stand by my side and those that don't, well, I guess that's their choice. 

I feel love in Abundance right now.  I feel the planets and stars have aligned, bestowing celestial gifts in my life.  And because I've opened my heart, changed how I think and how I'm choosing to spend my waking moments - that God is really blessing me.  

I'm not waiting for people to make me happy anymore.  I can't depend on anyone else for my own happiness.  I'd love to share it with someone, but he needs to know happiness and love for himself too.  I've spent most of my adult life loving people that didn't always love back or relied on me to make them happy or fix their life.  And while I'm grateful for the love I've shared, it's been truly unhealthy.  It made me realize things about myself that contributed to this behavior.  So making strides to fix my behavior was paramount. 

I'm still working on things, I'm far from perfect and I'll always be flawed in one varying degree or another.  But for the first time in a really long time, I truly feel worthy of love, even if it's just me loving myself.  Setting aside my negative thoughts over the last several months and finding real and true personal growth have helped me to understand how much I'm worth. 

So yeah, I'm feeling pretty reckless.  I feel like anything can and will happen.  I'm looking at the world not through rose colored glasses but with love and hope brimming around every corner.  Problems offer opportunities and challenges, and I will always need that to continue to grow.  I'm smiling just because I can and because this life I'm creating for myself and the people I love, is amazing.  I'm creating the life I want. 

Yeah - I know, I get it - this is a bit cheesy and maybe even a little silly, I just don't care - I just wanted to share...

Bad Intentions

Bad Intentions, Niykee Heaton

https://youtu.be/Rr7YO-fhmWc

This is the face I wear treading the riptide
Abysmal oceans where good girls go to die
I wanna love somebody
Wanna feel their love on me
But after everything I still believe in true love
Not being able to find it
Damn it tears me up
And I know it's my fault
I know it's my fault
Let's take a trip, ten thousand miles above the clouds
We can stay up here until we figure it out
I don't wanna go home
Don't wanna be alone, be alone


I've got some damn bad intentions
I've got some damn bad intentions
I got some secrets I forgot to mention
Haven't learned my lesson, woah oh
I've got some damn bad intentions
I see the world in 25 dimensions
I've seen evil reign over perfection
Blood heat over tension
And I know...


You say you love the way the storms blow
But when it comes you close your window
You hate the fighting in the world
So you bring the battle home and fight until it's yours
Fight until I'm gone
And there's holes on the walls
Written in the sand
Deception on my lips and there's blood on your hands
And I'm tired of keepin' lies
You can see it in my eyes
I don't wanna die


I've just got some damn bad intentions
I've got some damn bad intentions
I got some secrets I forgot to mention
Haven't learned my lesson, woah oh
I've got some damn bad intentions
I've got some damn bad intentions
I got some secrets I forgot to mention
Haven't learned my lesson, woah oh


I know we've made a graveyard of this all
I know I don't feel too sober now
I wanna lie awake with your black soul
Count your fears if you let me


Baby I just want your damn bad intentions
I've got some damn bad intentions
I got some secrets I forgot to mention
Haven't learned my lesson, woah oh


I've got some damn bad intentions
I've got some damn bad intentions
I got some secrets I forgot to mention
Haven't learnt my lesson, woah oh

https://youtu.be/Rr7YO-fhmWc

Lang Leav

 

I choose me

Lingering in the fold of comforting nostalgia, I'd flip back to the pain on purpose.   My trophy; bags under my eyes, lost sleep and pathetic sobbing in the quiet of the night.  I had not imagined things going down like this.  Now, it's over and I need this all to end, I'm done carrying the weight.  Pain, my best kept secret and clearly a ghost to everyone else.  I was haunted.  It was emotionally crippling.  I'm just not built to fake it until I make it, so things came crashing down.  I had wanted it all, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I might get lucky.  But when it's not meant to be, the best thing that can happen - is for me to wake up. 

How can I write this, and not share it with a single living soul?  Maybe this is/was my therapy.  I'm already healing and I know I'm going to be okay.  For the first time in a long time - I have clarity.  And while it's not my first rodeo, and I've been far worse off, I've found I'm really all I need.  It wasn't easy to accept, but it was I, that had set everything in motion, I was the one to initiate the break-up.  I knew there would be fall-out, I had underestimated how much it would hurt.

Relationships are no walk in the park.  I'd rather sulk in solitude than be with someone who's unhappy.  That kind of dejection destroys any threads of magic.  Without trust and security and a foundation of communication, magic alone can not keep a relationship alive.  You must have bedrock to stand on.  And anything worth having is worth fighting for! 

I realized I was the only one fighting.  After four harsh break-ups and not one of them initiated by me - it hit me.  It was devastating.  I was chasing someone that didn't want to be caught. 

When it hit me - that we weren't going to make it, I knew I'd have to tell him, it struck hard.  I knew we needed to look at everything and come to a different conclusion about our relationship.  It wasn't easy to have that conversation.  It was deeply emotional and excruciatingly painful.  Five years was a long time, lots of shared memories, family and friends that would be affected, but mostly he was my friend, my lover.  It hurt, but I had to be honest, I couldn't live a lie and I felt we both deserved the truth.  Honesty can hurt sometimes, but lies rip you apart every single time you remember them. 

Not long after breaking up, I began questioning my decision, beating myself up, feeling sorry for him.  Then...I heard he had already started dating - within days of our break up.  At first, I thought well good for him, moving on after he said it was going to be way too painful and he didn't know how he was going to live without me.  As the days passed, my naivety faded quickly...  how could he have met someone already and started dating so quickly?  and why had he failed to mention something as big as already dating in the many conversations that followed our 'mutual' break-up?  I thought we agreed to walk away with mutual respect, we had shared so many heart to hearts. 

After finding out he was seeing someone, I can't lie, I felt betrayed.  I volleyed back and forth over whether he really did just meet her.  Maybe I'm wrong, but I'd guess he had been talking to her.  Whether or not it's true, doesn't even matter, so I'm not going to waste time thinking about it.  I can't move forward if I keep looking backwards.  There's a feeling of freedom that comes from this.  I no longer have to feel guilty, I no longer have to beat myself up - I know the choice I made was the right one.  I'm a better person for choosing honesty.  I am free to move on now.  I choose me. 
 

Objectified

https://youtu.be/ccY25Cb3im0

I read an article, in the Elite Daily, "Why It's Completely Okay to Objectify Men, ... No Really, It Is.' by:  Alexia LaFata.  I highly recommend it.  In my opinion, it's well written and this accomplished snippet of truth spoke volumes to me...     it really got me thinking - how could I write to demonstrate objectifying a man?  I had to dig deep, I'm not very good at it. 

It had been a long time, since she felt this way.  She had managed to successfully stave off these kinds of thoughts.  He had not been himself last time and she didn't like to think about it.  It was going to be a great evening with friends and a secret part of her hoped he might go.  Being vulnerable was not fashionable for her, yet it's how she inexplicably felt around him.  Let him go. (she whispers softly, needing reassurance).  When passion washed over her, it was intense and she was always the hottest part of the flame.  Few men had ever had that affect on her.  She was picky.  She had always taken great care to cast her net beyond the shallowness of just beauty.  He embodied so many qualities she admired in a man, with one fatal flaw.  He was beautiful.  Never-mind that his command could pull the attention of a room full of people, whilst telling exciting stories and funny jokes, discussing politics and world events.  He was articulate and charming, covering topics so compelling, it would stir her deeply.  It was easy to swim in his eyes and trace the corners of his mouth as he smiled - she would lick her lips, fondly remembering.  It made her squirm at how embarrassingly easy, she would have given herself to him.  While others longed for her, thoughts of him would devastate her.  To taste him, to feel his hands and mouth all over her, the weight of his body on top of hers and between her thighs and underneath her.

When he walked in the door, she could sense his presence, immediately excitement and weakness wash over her.  And finally when he makes his way to where she is, he looks at her - she feels her cheeks pleasantly burn and flush feverishly, he draws her in to hug her and as he pulls her close to him, she lets out a sigh, she feels disturbingly secure in his masculine arms.  She was always composed and cool, but he had the ability to make her forget herself.  Did he know he did this to her?  Was it obvious?   Realizing she was blushing, only made her blush more.  She wasn't shy, she was quite confident and well spoken - she could hold her own.  She had her moments, but when he was nearby she struggled and that was off-putting. 

Why him?  Why did such a magnetic attraction have to be with him?  She didn't want or like this feeling and she sure as hell didn't want to feel this way about anyone.  She felt imprisoned by her thoughts.   She'd paused to remind herself of the hundreds of reasons, for the how and why it would never happen.  She had managed to convince herself it was imagined chemistry.  Was it even possible to have such fervor for someone that didn't reciprocate on some level?  Over and over she'd talk herself down from the ledge.  Was he looking at her the way she looked at him?  She was pretty - no diva - but she was familiar enough to know when a man was really looking at her and not just passing his eyes over her.  She knew she could still walk in a room and eyes would still fall on her.  Was she filling her own head with the absolute absurdity, by entertaining this?  She knew she was being crazy, manic even.  But she also knew exactly what she wanted.

Why couldn't he want her, like the other boys did?  She couldn't even gauge his interest?  Maybe he had no interest at all.  Maybe he just enjoyed watching her flounder foolishly about, as it stroked his ego?  That notion really irked her.  Or maybe he too, was bewitched by her - but too shy.  Did it even matter?  Those silly thoughts kept resurfacing and it's what she wanted to believe.  She knew better.  He was sharp and focused, possibly one of the most disciplined people she knew.  She had lost hours wondering if he was haunted by her, if he was pleased with what he saw, when his gaze fell on her?  Did he wonder how delicate and soft her skin was or how sweet she smelled? 

It was driving her mad.  On occasion, she would start to say something when they had a stolen  moment alone.  She knew if ever there was the slightest chance, she would have to initiate everything.  It wasn't for a lack of courage, she had that in spades.  Something about the way he looked at her, made her strangely comfortable and somehow insecure.  It was like he could see right through her.  She had forgotten how it felt to see someone so completely.  He was a gentleman.  He gave off a white heat that drew her in, and when she smelled him it reminded her of sex.  His pheromones seem to be screaming at her.  Her eyes would linger too long on the outline of his torso in his t-shirt.  She couldn't look away and her gaze took in all of him.   In her head she would envision him naked.  She knew she was objectifying him, she didn't care.  Her eyes followed the length of his body to his butt, how exquisitely his jeans fit.  Not tight and not too loose, his jeans sitting nicely just below his waist, she couldn't see it, but she knew his inguinal muscle crease was leading pointing drawing her attention down.  Stop looking at him like that. (she whispered to herself)  He moved with amazing fluidity and he stretched hard, as if he knew she was watching and he enjoyed seeing the hunger in her eyes.

She knew it wasn't healthy.  Still, she couldn't stop thinking about him, she couldn't throw a switch and shut it down, like she could with others infatuations.  She had to walk away, she went to join friends and kick back a shot, followed directly by another and talked to other people.  She can't stand there any longer in a trance-like state, staring at him. The fantasy is probably better than the real thing, anyway (she tells herself).  Few could live up to a fantasy and that was the truth.  There was a darkness in her, and when she embraced it she set it free - and it was dirty and nasty and delicious and unforgettable.  It was everything naughty and everything innocent, it was all that was bad and all that was good and everything in between.

The darkness dwelled within and consumed completely.  She wanted him to want her - to crave her, to beg for her, to want to taste her, she wanted his wild eyes to gaze lustily upon her and the image of her to be burned forever in his mind.  She wanted thoughts of her to linger in his head and torture him the way he unknowingly tormented her.  It was sadistic and ravenous, voracious and greedy.  She wanted him to ache so badly.  She wanted him to feel actual physical pain reminding him of just how alive she made him feel.  It was what she wanted.  (its what we all want - for someone to yearn endlessly for only us, an unquenchable thirst).

At times, she was an insatiable flame burning; bright blue, orange and red, devouring everything.  And sometimes she was a constant flickering flame, casting a warm amber glow of love and light.  She wanted to set everything on fire, to light the darkness.  Sometimes that kind of flame scared people and she knew it often left her lonely.  She was fire and fire consumes and devours, she was built to destroy and that's exactly what she did.  Maybe it was why she would never give herself completely over to the darkness.  She knew she was wrong to desire him so much, giving no regard as to how it might make him feel.  She knew every time she would see him, these feelings would bubble back to the surface.  And for as bad as that was for her, it would be far worse to not be around him.  For if nothing else, she never felt more alive than when he was around.

Once he left, she'd find her footing again and begin her journey back from her fitful and lustful abyss.  Next time, she'll make endless passes at him and grope him, maybe then he will appreciate the magnitude of her fervor.  Would that even make a man feel cheap?  Is objectification so different between the sexes?  How do men really feel when they objectify a woman?  Is it the same?  Are women just as bad in the art of objectification?

I don't know - I think I could do a whole lot better objectifying a man, but I'll save the adult version for him...  someday.
 

Tickle me breathless

There are millions of tiny nerve endings beneath our skin.  If these are lightly stimulated, by another person - say by a finger or a feather - it sends a message through your nervous system to your brain.  Which can result in a ticklish sensation.  Somatosensory cortex analyzes the touch and Anterior cingulated cortex analyzes pleasant feelings.  When working together it creates a ticklish feeling and we can either giggle until we are breathless or get angry even grit our teeth.  Yes - sometimes being tickled isn't always pleasurable.  Most of us - love to be tickled.

The cerebellum at the back of the brain filters unnecessary governing movement.  So trying to tickle ourselves, our brains block the sensation.  It's called sensory attenuation.  There are social aspects and advantages to tickling.  But research has proven in order for humor to be associated with tickling, the person being tickled must already be in a good mood and willing to submit to the aggressor.  Biologist and neuroscientists say there's actually nothing about being tickled that's funny or that should make us laugh.  Most often the more ticklish the area, the more vulnerable that area is to injury.  It's why we squirm and pull our arms close and kick to defend ourselves.  We fight back and in truth, through tickling - one person is teaching the other how to defend themselves.  Part of being tickled is giving yourself over to the aggressor. 

We are also more ticklish in areas that aren't often touched by other's.  So sometimes the nerve endings seem like they're on steroids when they're finally touched and then they become hypersensitive. 

So why do some of us laugh until we can't breathe and others get so angry or some people don't seem to be ticklish at all ?  Believe it or not, there's no scientific explanation for any of it.  Evidently, it's thought to be a reflex action or reaction, even a knee-jerk reaction (literally) for some.  The laughter (though outwardly appearing gleeful) is thought to be social anxiety and/or even nervous laughter.  Tickling was once even considered a mild form of torture.  (true story - there have been actual cases built on 'abusive tickling', where it created negative physiological effects, such as vomiting, rashes, and even losing consciousness). 

There's so much research on the psychology behind tickling, laughing, physiology, it's socialization, etc... It's mystified doctors and scientists since the days of Plato and Socrates.  That's how far back tickling can be found recorded in history.  In 1872, scientist were searching for the origins of laughter in tickling - by tickling apes, chimps and monkeys of all kinds.  The conclusion: laughter is instinctual human behavior.  The primates exuded the same behavioral laughter - their laughter (though not the same as ours) was what's considered to be laughter and playfulness among primates, mirroring much of what we seen in human interaction.  

Here's what I know.  As a Mom, it's not just a weapon with my kids.  In fact, I don't have to do much to get them giggling and in a playful mood.  I can tell them I'm going to tickle them and laughter ensues.  I can breathe near the napes of their necks while giving them a hug or lightly brush them with my fingertips and their arms start flailing and lashing about.  Often, this is when a sibling might join in and hold the other down.  Sometimes, it backfires and I end up getting tickled.  It's one of the easiest ways to show someone I love and care about - that I love them - that I enjoy playing around and goofing off, it allows me to bond.  I find quite often, even people that claim not to be ticklish may crack a smile for my tireless efforts.  I think most people are receptive to being tickled. 

Wait.  There's more - and it gets interesting...
Some people are sexually excited by being tickled.  People engage in tickling 'activities' or as part of couple bonding and foreplay.  Knismolagnia.  The arousal resulting from the experience of being tickled.  (Hey!)  Excessive tickling can be a primary sexual obsession and in some circumstances it is considered a form of paraphilia.  Paraphilia's are people whose sexuality is based solely on tickling.  (Fetishism)  Paraphilia's can tend to have a tickling fixation and the fixation doesn't just exist within sexual context.  "Tickling is a form of physical intimacy involving a highly sensual touching of the body of one person by another. Tickling also serves as a bonding experience between friends, and is an indication of familiarity and trust. Between adolescents, tickling often serves as an outlet for sexual energy, with erotic games, foreplay and sex being the primary methods of doing such." Some tickling games are reminiscent of other erotica, in terms of the show of dominance and submission and even require safe-words. 

Quite a few women feel a tickling sensation just prior to having an orgasm.  (not all of us, but most of us)  Whether that's from someone else stimulating or because we are self-stimulating.  Whatever you do - do NOT stop when the tickling starts - please, just keep going.  Trust me.  It won't always be a big bang at first, but for some women - orgasms only get bigger with each one we experience.  (thus increasing the frequency is a healthy notion).  Just keep going past the tickling and tingling sensations.  (gently though - too much pressure or overstimulation creates numbness and/or soreness).
For my guys - I hear - most men, the tickling and tingling sensation is post orgasm??

Collectively, data shows that a little tickling can go a long way to leaving many of us breathless. 
 

Quiet Madness

There's a difference between not understanding and not wanting to understand.  It's called your ego. 

Not all scars show. Not all wounds heal. Sometimes you'll never know, just how bad you made someone feel.

"There's a loneliness that only exists in one's mind. The loneliest moment in someone's life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare, blankly."

If you don't understand my silence, how can you understand my words? 

"A heart break isn't always as loud as a bomb exploding.  Sometimes it can be as quiet as a feather falling and the most painful thing is, nobody hears it except you."

"I never found a companion that was so companionable, as solitude."  Henry David Thoreau

Listen & Silent - use the exact same letters.  Think about it.

People never remember the millions of times you did incredible and wonderful things for them, they only remember the one time they expected you to, and you didn't. 

And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain. 

"Pain is something to master, not wallow in."  Anais Nin

"If you live through defeat, you are not defeated.  If you are beaten, but acquire wisdom, you have won.  Lose yourself to improve yourself.  Only when we shed all self-definition, do we find who we really are."

"Life asked Death, 'Why do people love me, but hate you?'  Death responded, 'because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth'."