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I will risk going back to work
tomorrow after three weeks of convalescing from a knee injury. It has been such
a long time. I feel I can walk once again. I maybe will be able to run once I
have gone through two months of physiotherapy. I loved where Lubricia took me this
weekend. Even though I could not walk I loved the sculpture park, the steamy
hot evenings and the pure joy of been spoiled by someone who cares ernormously
about me. I never thought I would enjoy it so much. I never thought I could
enjoy her company for such a long period of time. I don't know if she was
holding back but it was quite effortless to relax and be myself. The foot
massage was superb and the stroking of the back of my neck while I was falling
off to sleep was divine. It must be the best birthday present I have ever had
in my life. Why do I deserve it you ask? You are gorgeous Lubricia and I hope you
are feeling good both in mind and in body today. Guess what honey, I found
Johnny Cash. I will leave him back to the library this week and pay the fine.
Mmmmm, I am still savouring the dream weekend we just hand. Did I thank you? Gx Walking down to the Polar Bar I spot
Jason speeding by me with his mobile phone to his ear. I want to greet him but
he ignores me. I know he saw me but he just sped on by. I am sure he was not on
the phone to anybody. He could have been listening to someone talking but he
was not doing any of that "Aha, ahemm" in response. Jason is English
but of foreign descent. He could be of Indian, Persian or even of Lebanese
descent. I don't know. He is my height, five foot five tanned and wearing a
nicely ironed grey shirt that hangs over his jeans. Two seconds later I see on
the other side of the road Jiny and her friend, who is in a foot cast,
staggering up the road drunk. What a contrast! Jiny is kind of fat and wearing
a black tight velcro top. She is of Asian origins as well but not now. They
stagger up the road drunk and Jason speeds by sober. Hold on a second is it
just a coincidence that Jason is on the other side of the road to his ex
girlfriend? When I look back I see Jason standing on a corner with the mobile
phone to his ear. I am suspicious.
In there I ask Helen and Joe one word
that describes Jiny and Jason. I want to find out who is the most dangerous. I
want to find out if Jason is dangerous or just a pest. Helen refuses to answer
but Joe has his own opinion. Joe is a nice fifty eight year old drunk. He plays
a mean game of chess when he is sober and is as funny as hell when people play
awful pool. "You're crap, you're crap, you know you are crap." From
anyone else you would feel insulted but not when Joe says it to you. In fact it
is endearing. I stand at the end of the bar with my pint of Krony as he tells
me what he thinks of Jiny and Jason. "They are both off their heads. You
see, Jiny is calculating and has no real emotions and Jason is just dim. He is
infatuated with her. But you can't believe anything Jiny tells you about Jason.
You have to realise that she doesn't do anything if it is not in her best
financial interest. She thinks long term. Take the BBQ last Sunday. In the
middle of a nice group conversation she gets up, throws a strop and disappears
off down to the sea leaving everyone dumbfounded. Then she takes drunken Dan
back to her house. Now he has to be careful, I told him so. His family, you see
has got property, lots of property and Jiny knows this. As for Jason, well
Gary, he deserves what he gets. He should know that Jiny is deliberately trying
to make him jealous all the time. She throws herself around here in the pub in
front of his face. It has sent him mad on a few occasions. He has even thrown a
bottle at me in here once when she was all friendly and up close. But he is
harmless. Don't worry about tonight Gary. He will probably just stand outside
her flat, wank off and then go home. He bloody thinks he is still in love with
the girl." The thing is I don't know what or who
to believe. I would believe Joe before Jiny. In recent months Jiny has said
that Jason made her pregnant with twins which died stillborn. She says he
attacked her. She was also involved in the death of old Rob, the pub drunk, and
took over the legal winding up of his estate. Anyway all this has happened on the
day that I find out I have lost six thousand dollars playing the stock market.
Last week PCLN reported extra profits and its share price jumped twenty three
per cent in a week. I never placed a cover bet to limit any losses on it.
Toast is my main source of energy at
the moment. I would like it to be fruit and vegetables but these things, I just
don't crave. I crave toast with melted butter, toast with melted butter and
ketchup, toast with melted butter, ketchup, lime juice coriander and hummus.
Cappuccinos with a sprinkling of demera sugar and chocolate powder is what I
can't stop asking for every day. I think my skin is aggravated by so much
coffee but I can't stop. Mateo is our new housemate. God he
makes me laugh. He is as short as me with short brown hair. The difference is
that he wears glasses and has the body of a growing nineteen year old. That is
probably because he is nineteen years old. When I was his age with that type of
body I was a virgin. He however is not. He has a girlfriend in Italy but that
does not stop him from playing the field here. Sitting on the sofa I witness
him bursting into the living room as I am watching Big Brother. "It's Gary the gardener,
Hellooo. Hellooo Mr. Gardener!”, Mateo says. “Oh my God Gary do you know who I had
in my a rooom last night? Manuela, the sister of the last girl who slept in a
my room. I think she does not know this. I think she was too drunk the last
time. Last time that I had a no condom her sister, she a wanted to have a sex
with me. I said a no. I have a no condom. She don't understand me. I don't a
want to have a sex with someone I do not know without a condom. You know? But
she a don't a understand me. Last night with the other sister Manuela I try to
a kiss her but she a stops me. So I thought fine and I a turn around in the bed
to go asleep. Then she tries to wake me and puts her arms around me and plays
with me and after five minutes she a sucks my cock. I don't understand a women
Gari. When I want a something from her she says a no, when I stop she a wants a
something. Mama mia!" "You know Gari, things are a
funny with me. Sometimes when I a fuck I a go. Straight away. I don't know why,
I just a go. Puff! My cock just can't a wait. And sometimes, when I fuck, I can
a fuck for an hour. It is a strange. I don't know why. Maybe it is a because I
am nineteen and my body is not a right. Maybe it is a something else, I don't a
know." Listening to Mateo any night of the
week is all so much better than Big Brother isn´t? I am grateful for been able to walk
down to the water edge here in Brighton and meeting a Sunday morning fisherman
on the on the groyne that is called the Bango groyne. He is chirpy despite only
catching one little sprat since half six this morning. "I don't know what has happened.
Me and those blokes over there have been here since half past six this morning.
I don't know if I am using the wrong bait or what. One bloke came down here
last week and caught a six and a half pound bass on cod bait. He was only here
an hour when he caught it. And all I have got is one measly little sprat since
half six this morning. It looks like I will be having roast lamb for dinner
today instead of sea bass. Ha ha ha. I am also grateful I can walk here and
listen to the Egyptian fifty something year old man play his saxophone as he
leans against the groyne wall under the fat grey clouds of this Sunday
morning. I am grateful I have a well paid job that will lead to further
financial rewards and future comforts in my life. I am grateful for a lover in
Lubricia but more importantly for the friendship she has bestowed on me over
the last year. I am grateful for having the website to write down these
thoughts and get them as far out of my head as possible making even more room for
more intriguing ones. What I want to progress in today is
making Lubricia feel loved by me even though I don't want to be ever again in a
committed relationship with anyone in this world not even with her. But I do
want her to feel loved like a best friend makes you feel loved. I want to
progress in making my parents feel loved and feeling that I am grateful that
they exist. I know that, these days, they can only be with me two or three
times a year because of the distance between us physically but you know when
they die, they will be with me every day. It's true! In my heart and in my
mind they will be with me. That is something I look forward to. That is
something that excites me. That is the way the cosmos works isn't? I want to
progress my knowledge of SAP Payment Process as well today. And if possible I
want to progress my drive to establish a home in La Manga in Spain. These are
my cosmic orders for today. Let's see what happens. What about going for a bit of lunch
with Lubricia? Yes I think I shall! After driving for about a half an hour we
arrive at the village of Bramber. Not two minutes from the car park is a
Chinese restaurant which we can't resist because of the seductive aromas that
are coming from inside. Two tiger beers later and we are deep in conversation.
It is more like deep competition as we ask each other in turn, a very personal
question that is of real importance to us. Lubricia: “How did you feel Gary
after I told you that I loved you a few weeks ago?” Gary: “I felt angry, disappointed and
uncomfortable at first but, after a few days, I relaxed about it and realised
that I can't change how you feel about me and I should not try and change how
you feel about me. You know, because I have told you so, that I see you as a
lover and a friend and so at least I feel I am not hiding any thing from you.
Now my question! How do you feel about that?” Lubricia: “Well it leaves me puzzled.
You say that this is how you feel about me and yet sometimes your actions leave
me feeling otherwise. So you puzzle me. That leaves me sad sometimes and it
leaves me feeling excited as well. And that is probably why I have been feeling
more sad than happy over the last couple of months.” Gary: “I feel guilty and responsible
for your sad state recently. If I don't change my feelings towards you then you
are not going to be a happy bunny." Lubricia: "But this is not your
problem. These are my feelings and you have no say and no power over them. It
is my choice to change them. It is not yours. So you should feel no
responsibility to change. You should not feel guilty. I have put myself in this
position. Now let me ask you a question. Are you still interested in renting my
flat out for the two months or so while I am away?” Gary: “Well now I am not so sure. I
have a nice room in my shared house and it would be very difficult to find
another one like it in Brighton for the same price. So it is probably better
that I stay there. So let me ask you Lubricia. When would you like to
experience the Rabbit pearl dildo and vibrator again with me?” Lubricia: “Actually not as soon as
feeling your hard hot cock inside me I have to say. It has been too long since
I felt your cock inside of me. I love the feeling of a live cock inside me and
I hope you do not mind me saying that first I want your cock!” We continue on asking each other
questions all the way through our meal of duck in coconut sauce, sizzling beef
in black bean and peppers sauce, crispy seaweed and a shared bowl of steaming
boiled rice. Afterwards we stroll through the
village and find a footpath that leads down to the river. I want Lubricia to
feel like she is been loved by me today so I make sure to ask her what she
would like to do every so often. We double back along the river and across the
bridge to the other side. We read the information board that tells us what
wildlife and fauna there is in this area. The river was a rich source of salt a
thousand years ago. Its mud was full of it. Maybe that is why there are places
around here with salt in their names like Saltdean. "So Lubricia where would you
like to go now?" "To the castle please, to the
castle over there on top of the hill." When we arrive I lead us straight
into the wooded area surrounding it. I have visions of giving my hot hard cock
to her right here and right now. But before I do, she leads me out of the woods
into a huge open green area that is surrounded by the castle wall. It is
beautiful, it's so quiet and it is so mystical. This is the place, this is
where I want to give my hot hard cock to Lubricia. At the far end of this old
castle rampant I guide Lubricia to a wooded bench that has no back. We both
straddle it so as to kiss and fondle each other face to face. I love the
feeling of her body in my hands and I love the fact that I can feel her tits
under the light red speckled fabric of her dress. Yes she is wearing a dress
and I take full advantage of this and run my hand up underneath it to her soft
white sexy bum. I suckle on her neck and jiggle my fingers in between the lips
of her pussy in order to caress her clitoris. She moans in ecstasy and pulls
down her bra to signal me to suck and kiss and lick her nipples. This sends
shivers all over her body and I now know she is mine. I pull on the blue
string that hangs out of her pussy and a small white tampon covered in a little
rich dark blood slowly oozes out. I throw it on the ground beside us because
nothing is going to stop me making her feel happy today. I push down my jeans
as far as I can. Because I am straddling the bench I can only push them down to
my knees. I pull Lubricia's ass and her pussy up over my cock and gently slide
it into her. For the next fifteen minutes she glides up and down. Leaning back
with our arms stretched out behind our backs we grab the log behind our bodies.
In this position of opposites, of Yin and Yang, we fuck our bodies into each
other. After she comes I decide that is my turn. Slipping my two hands
underneath her legs I grab her ass and pull Lubricia hard onto my cock again
and again and again. All the time I am chanting to myself. “You are my friend,
you are my lover you are my whore.” It excites me so much that my sperm
explodes inside her. Even though I am finished I leave my cock inside her. My
foreskin does not pain me today and I know Lubricia is loving this moment.
Neither of us care if someone sees us here fuck on the castle bench. How many
more couples of old have fucked inside the walls of this old castle? It is a
wonderful place to fuck, just magical. We slowly walk back to the car, very
slowly, almost as if mwe don't want the dream to end. But it has, for now,
well, at least until next weekend. My final thought for today. "Even though I see you as a
friend and a lover I do hope that today, you have felt that you have truly been
loved by someone." Guess what! We are on our way, for the second time in one year, to
the biggest sex party in England (if not the world). Yes, one year has passed by since
I first invited Lubricia to the most unusual party ever, 'The Night of the Senses'. To my surprise she is
just as keen to go through the experience once again.
Once inside the event we are led to
change straight away in a cordoned off area. It is even smaller than the tiny
space of last year. And the air is feeling even hotter.
It is so hot queuing, I forget to
bring my tokens I got when we arrived but I managed to blag my way past the
door girl. We head straight to the bar where we initiate our first kiss and our
first lustful feel of each other's scantily clad bodies. I can't wait to get
even more intimate with her in the room called the mirrored dome. It is packed
with semi I naked bodies many of whom are fornicating. Two Cunnilingus.
Reflections make me dizzy. We watch the others. A Chinese woman is being eaten
by someone beside us. She is mid forties with a black wig. I thought all
Chinese had black hair. Lubricia is fascinated by her nipples. They are so big
and long and dark purple just like a long tapered gooseberry. She is having an
orgasm like one where she doesn’t care who is giving her pleasure at this very
moment. We both find it so beautiful to watch. Thinking of massages, we stroll out
of the S&M room giggling. We then come across the massage tent. I feather
Lubricia as she lays on the cashmere cushions face up. Instead of one big
feather I use two. I introduce each feather at a different part of her body. A
group of three party goers stop me stroke Lubricia with these feathers.
They are fascinated and I love them watching me work my magic stroke. I feather
her neck with one and the sole of her right foot with another. I swirl one
around her right nipple and, at the same time, the inside of her lower leg with
the other. I twirl one around under her breast and the other up the inside of
her knee. Finally, both feathers meet at her pussy and Lubricia’s body arches
up like a rainbow on Mars. Seeing this, I can safely say that my worldly advice
to you is, “have not one feather in your cap, but two.” The dark room disappoints us. There
is light coming in from the photo studio next door, it is only full of gay men
and I don’t feel horny. Coming back from the men’s toilet I find Raj, a fat,
bearded, friendly Muslim chatting up Lubricia. I feel embarrassed interrupting
her. She always gets chatted up. I never get approached by another girl when we
are together at these sexy parties. It is not fair. Even here in the dark room one
gay guy is leching at her. Outside I convince her to take part
in a little photo shoot. Some old guy babbles that we will not be blackmailed
with these photos, he says he has been doing this for years at this party, that
he is a professional S&M photographer and that he is trustworthy. We don’t
care and Lubricia looks stunning. I look like a cancer victim who is not
winning his battle with chemotherapy. It is time for a drink. At the bar a
large seven foot black man with rippling shiny muscles is standing in the dark heat
beside me. He is a god, a black god, perfect in every physical sense. I feel so
imperfect beside him. In front of him is a woman asking for a drink. But she is
happy to wait to be served because a guy has lifted her skirt from behind and
is grinding his cock up into her shamelessly. She loves it and Lubricia and I
find it so funny. Next to the bar I buy a bottle of
liquid gold, you know that stuff gay guys sniff when they are fucking. We sniff
it. We feel so hot and dizzy and so horny. I push Lubricia against the wall and
run my hands all over her body. Her lips and hips grind into mine and to stop
myself from fainting I become more animal like in my kissing of her. We could
fuck right here right now, we are the only ones who exist on this planet and
our hunger is the only thing we need to satisfy. The "wall of the senses" intrigues me. There
are two walls. Each is made of white latex with a bright lamp shining behind
each one. On the inside of these walls of latex two women hang naked from ropes
and push their bodies against the white latex. I think they are women. All I
can see is their silhouette and from time to time. I think I can see a nipple
when their upper bodies press against the latex. Some people watch and some
guys touch the latex with their hands to feel their bodies. One guy grinds his
pelvis into the latex and the girls pushes her pussy up against the latex to
feel him. I want to hang from ropes and have strange hands feel my body through
the latex. I want Lubricia to be felt by other guys. When we go to enter the
chamber from behind they tell me that only girls can hang from the ropes. I
feel robbed. But at least Lubricia will get to enjoy the thrill. From outside, I start to
watch her silhouette reach for the ropes. She starts to pull on
each rope and then presses her body against the latex. A lump swells in my
throat. I feel strange knowing that the girl on the other side of the latex is
my lover, that the silhouette is the body of someone I fuck on a weekly basis.
Now there is a guy who I don’t know placing his hands all over it. I am not
angry. I only feel left out. Why should he have the thrill of feeling Lubricia’s
body? He is dominating the space in front of her so much I can only put my
hands on her tits. I squeeze her nipples because, I know she likes that. I want
to give her pleasure. I want her to come through the latex. At the same time
the guy is rubbing his fingers up her pussy. He is pressing hard. I fear he is
hurting Lubricia but she presses even harder up against the latex and his hand.
I see her face pressed against the latex I press my lips against hers. Despite
the latex I can feel her lips. I press my tongue into her mouth. The latex prevents
me going all the way in. She presses her through the latex into my mouth. It is
so bizarre. I am sure she does not know whose tongue it is. It scares me that
she can do this. It delights me too. She turns around and we both squeeze the
cheeks of her ass as she presses backwards into the latex. I have a hard on and
I press it against the latex into her ass. But the latex causes a lot of
friction to my cock and I don’t want the possibility of another fuck to be
ruined by this the friction burn this latex wall could cause my cock. So I cover my
hard cock with my fist and continue pressing into her. It is so frustrating and
titilating. I feel she is having more pleasure than me. I feel greedy. I wonder
what she looks like during all this so I slip around the side hoping to get a
peek at her naked body hanging from the ropes. I feel like a pervert hanging
around the showers of a girls school, fearing I will be caught at any moment.
I see her hanging there with her eyes closed pressing backwards. She looks
gorgeous and is a vision of pure rapture. She is so adventurous and I feel so
lucky. I want to fuck her again. I am jealous, I am horny. I think we should
have one last fling and I know where, “The sensuality chamber”. As we enter, the door woman warns us
that the club is closing early this year. Everyone has five minutes to get
their bags from the cloakroom. I feel gutted. Once again I am denied a new
thrill. We go to the cloakroom and find that there is a huge long queue. I know
Lubricia likes to take fucking slow but I want one last thrill and suggest that
since the queue is going to take twenty minutes to die down we could go back to
the Sensuality Chamber for ten minutes. It all feels so rushed but hey, never
mind. We find a space in the far left hand side to get all hot and sexy. Lubricia
sucks my cock and I turn her over to eat her pussy. There is a couple beside us
who take an interest in our shenanigans. The black haired teenager leans over
and says to Lubricia, “Can I kiss you?” Before she can answer the girl is
kissing her ferociously and aggressively. Lubricia wants it to be soft and
sexy. It feels too alien and not at all sexy. They both kiss and fondle
Lubricia while I eat and lick her pussy. After coming, she climbs up on top of
me, and fucks me like a whore. I come in a jiffy. I am so satisfied and ready to
call it a night. When we get back to the queue for the bags we find that there
only a few people waiting for their stuff. It is perfect timing, how lucky was
that? We savour the final walk back under
the city stars over Vauxhall bridge and into our Victorian hostel. In the
morning, in the lower bunk bed, we relish in a long slow fuck back to reality! Now
we are hungry. It is time to have a scrumpious breakfast and a read of the Sunday morning
papers. From time to time during our bubble of peaceful contemplation we look
up from our papers to look each other in the eye. Through some kind of telepathy we relive the
night’s events with each other and only icate outwardly, through fits of spontaneous giggles and childhood laughter, the inner joy and
satisfaction we now feel. ******************************************* I am feeling slightly bitter
that my mother has replied to my text message that she did not understand a
word. She winds me up these days. And I regret
that things have come to this. I suppose it comes from having very little in
common with someone apart from genes. Calmness has overcome me at work. I
don't care if I don't deliver the results they expect. I am just using the time
to improve my own SAP knowledge. I guess it is because I have passed my
probation period and feel less threatened. I have lived in a world of atheism,
nationalism, socialism, communism and capitalism but now I feel, we are
entering a new era in this world I inhabit, an era of religious fanaticism.
Many young people will grow up only to desire to be a fanatic in the future. All I
want is the serenity that comes with mindful meditation and good posture. I feel less shame today because Yaya
has written to me saying she is grateful that she has a friend in me who asks
nothing of her. She values me as an unconditional friend. I hope we meet again
some day. She still calls me her love and says her heart is still closed to
others as well as her "Yayita", her pussy.
There we are Lubricia and me, sitting in
a tree, f u c k i n g! I am sitting on a branch that is hanging two feet off
the ground. Lubricia is driving up and down on my cock with one leg placed on
the branch and the other on the ground. With both hands grabbing branches of
the tree higher up she balances herself enough to be pull her tiny frame down
on top of my throbbing tumescence.
One hour earlier we were taking the
hovercraft from Southsea in Portsmouth to Ryde on the Isle of Wight. It's the
first time I ever had been on a hovercraft. Lubricia and I had driven down from
Brighton on the spur of the moment. We were on our way to the last festival of
the summer in the UK called "Bestival". The hovercraft inflates from
underneath on the concrete and slips down the embankment sideways into the
water.
First off we grab a couple of pints
of cider from the farmer's market tent and sit down to marvel at our good
fortune. As we doe we realise that we are one of the few who look normally
dressed in this place. Not one, not a hundred but thousands of people are
dressed in fancy dress. What is going on here? The whole of this year Lubricia and
I have been search out parts that required fancy dress and now we have
accidentally stumbled upon the biggest fancy dress party of the year. It's fab.
There are pirates, there Romans, there are brides, there are grooms, there
McEnroes, there cats, there are tigers and there outfits that say nothing but
"I am going to have the best weekend ever. Reading the program of events we
decide we want to go to the Nomad tent for a sauna and a Jacuzzi and then to
the Healing tent for a massage, Reiki and some reflexology. However on the way
I see a place where they are showing people how to tree climb with ropes and
harnesses and carbines. I know Lubricia's would not choose to do something like
this. But I know also she loves to be pushed into doing exciting things. So I
convince her to give it a go for five minutes. So she agrees. Sitting back in
the harness I pull myself up the tree with some awkwardness. Lubricia on the
other hand has the technique mastered and even though she started way below me
she is catching up fast. Hand over hand we pull ourselves up the tree, slipping
the knots up the rope each time.
Lubricia says she loved it. She wants
to come back some time to climb the highest tree on the island. As we head down
towards the main festival area we take a turning that leads us into the woods.
This is great. We are among the trees again and it makes me feel so horny. It
is then I spot the perfect fuck tree. It has a strong u-shaped branch that is
only two feet off the ground so I lead Lubricia by the hand to carnally
celebrate our excellent arrival at The Bestival. So that is how I ended up in the
woods you see. Coming out of the woods we are showered by a multitude of
revelers dancing to James Brown, so we join in. Enough of that we thought after
a few songs, time to rest ones bum. We sit down and enjoy a splendid glass of
champagne before dining on Moroccan lamb kebabs with couscous. Time for a well
deserved cup of coffee with chocolate syrup spiraling on top. Whilst in the loo
I spot two girls peeing into boy's urinal. That is not on I thought, moreover I
wondered how the hell did they do that with wetting themselves sort to speak.
Were they hermaphrodites. My curiosity was peaked. After coffee Lubricia and I
wander into a tent selling all sorts of wonderful festival gear and I see a
funnel for girls who pee into boy's urinals. So folks that is how they do it!
Amazing! Lubricia is determined we have somewhere warm to sleep tonight so she
buys a sleeping bag big enough for two from a gorgeous gregarious German girl.
I tell her she can join us in the sleeping bag if she wants and she gives an
affirmative positive look that I feel I must confirm before the night is out. It
is time to dance our booty off again but this time in "The Miniscule of
Sound." What is this you say! Well first let me tell you that we get
chatting to Vicki and Laura in the queue. They were queue jumping and very nice
about it too. Who were we to judge queue hoppers when we just sneaked into
festival grounds ourselves. Vicki asks us if we are boyfriend and girlfriend.
Lubricia finds it impossible to answer her and I feel embarrassed for her and
so I said "We are lovers". That was difficult enough to say itself.
When the sun rises we head back up
the hill past the fifteen thousand tents to a place where we can watch the
misty morning light up the trees and the hills all around. It is a magical and
spiritual moment that we cherish. I enjoy it all the more sitting on the ground
as Lubricia gives me a gorgeous back, should, neck and head massage. Before we
leave the festival ground I give her a long loving hug, one that says that I am
so glad to have spent the last twenty four hours with her on this adventure. We float along on the top deck of the
bus to Newport where we get the slow winding bus to Ryde. There is no rush to
get the next hovercraft back to Seaport. With our morning coffee and BLT
sandwich we take in the spectacular view of the bay as the sun shines down on
the tiny white yachts that pepper the water. We are so exhausted that we fall
asleep on the hovercraft during the ten minute journey. Lubricia feels it is
too dangerous for her to drive all the way back to Brighton without any sleep
so we stop at the first garage we find after driving out of Portsmouth. I wake
up two and a half hours later and we feel great. Bruce Springsteen, Sade, Van
Morrison, The Gypsy Kings and The Rolling Stones join us all the way to
Hayward's Heath and Club Liberty where we end our day among the naked members
of the club in the swimming pool, on the grass and under the trees. NO matter
how disconcerting the naked guys who played with their cocks made us feel as we
wandered through the play area we still felt like we had a lovely time at the
club. We enjoy the sauna and a toasted ham and cheese sandwich on the decking
by the pool as a fat older guy fucks some other female by the pool surrounded
by some of their companions. We have a great debate about the subject of non-attachment
Lubricia finds it intriguing that I want I practice this in any life. It also seems
to worry her. “If one is not attached to anyone how
can any person be special to you? How can be special to you if you are not
emotionally attached to me?” That is a fair point but I feel it is
possible to be emotionally non-attached to some one special and still feel that
they are extra special. I feel attachment has more to do with having
expectations rather than valuing someone special. If we have no expectations of
someone special then we are practicing non attachment. “However” I say, “there
is more to practicing it with just a partner. I also try to be non-attached when
playing a competitive game of tennis. I try to do it at work when I am under
pressure to perform. Even in snooker the best players practice it.” Steve Davis says, that you have to
play like, 'it means nothing to you while at the same time it means everything
to you.” Lubricia loves this new twist to non-attachment. She then tells me she cried when she
read all about the sad ending to my relationship with Yaya in my diaries. She
cried many times. I find myself embarrassed but yet glad she knows about this
recent part of my life. I feel it may have been very similar to when her heart
was broken by the boy in the Scottish commune who decided at the last moment
that he did not want to create a promised magical life with her after leaving
the commune. ******************************************* You know, now that I have your
attention for a bit, I have to confess something. I, Gary Phelan, have been living
six long years of sexual purgatory. Since 1999 I have had to live with a very sore
cock because of a cream that I used in Mexico to get rid of some white spots on
the underside of my knob. The cream thinned the foreskin and as a result, everytime
I enjoy a few minutes of carnal friction, it becomes inflamed and on fire. If
that was not enough to stop me enjoying sex during all these years, my frenulum
had also become scarred by the pathetic laser treatment of a Mexican urologist.
The lack of stretch in this ligament caused even worse pain when I fucked. But let me tell you something, not
any more! The scarred frenulum I find does not cause me any pain these days. I
don’t know why. Sometimes I think it is because Lubricia has a magic pussy. And
now, if I stretch my foreskin in the shower on the same day as I am going to
fuck Lubricia, the subsequent fucking causes me very little pain. So little
that just last week I fucked her three times in six hours without any pain. Last
Wednesday after a gorgeous steak and mash covered in caramelized onions we also
fucked twice in six hours. I have not fucked someone twice in a row like this pain
free in six years, yes six long years. That is a hell of a long time to wait
for a night of pure liberated uninhibited pleasure. I am free. I feel that at
long last, I am once more back on top. Here are a few of my favourite things. Fear · Frustration · Gratification ·
Gratitude · Grief · Guilt · Happiness · Hate · Acceptance · Affection · Ambivalence
· Anger · Angst · Anticipation · Anxiety · Apathy Depression · Disappointment ·
Disgust · Doubt · Ecstasy · Embarrassment · Emptiness · Enmity · Ennui ·
Enthusiasm · Envy · Epiphany Homesickness · Hope · Horror · Humiliation ·
Jealousy · Limerence · Loneliness · Love · Lust · Melancholia · Panic · Pity ·
Pride · Regret · Rejection · Remorse · Repentance · Righteous indignation ·
Self-pity Tell me something about you now! Let me ask you a few questions about you. Email, text me, write to me or even call me with your answers.
Is that OK? So, let's start! 1. Who makes you laugh this
week? 2. What place is it impossible to
pass these days? 3. Tu droga esta semana? 4. Tu comida? 5. Tu bebida esta semana? 6. Que te da mucha energia esta
semana? 7. Que te esta bajando la libido esta
s a? 8. Que saca tu lado radikal/rebelde
esta semana? 9. Que es la cosa mas absurda te
pasa esta semana? 10.Preferias sexo fuerte/ rapido o
amoroso? 11.Pasarias todo esta noche si no
tuviera que dormir? 12.Cual es tu truco de belleza esta
semana? 13.Cual es tu sueño hoy en dia? 14.Cual cosa safricarias hoy para lograr tu sueño? 15.Cual es tu perversion erotica
favorita esta semana? 16.Cual es tu habilidad oculta esta
semana? 17.A quien le tienes la envidia esta
semana? 18.What is this week's strong view of
another person? 19.What is this week's dark moment
for you? 20.What 5 things do you want to progress
in today? 21.What 5 things are you grateful for
today? ******************************************* Lubricia amazes me. I know it is I who says that one should take a risk every
day but Lubricia takes this advice to heart sometimes. As I leave her beaudoir in the early morning I suggest that she take a risk.
“Walk down to the front door naked with me.”
She does and she looks beautiful, pale and milk white with only her white cotton dressing gown hanging over her left hand. Is this something she wants to do or is it something she does because I want her to do it? I wish I knew.
I don't know why but, I have noticed that an attractive girl is never waiting at my bus stop on Marine Parade in the mornings when I go to work in London. My day would start so much better if that was the case. “Good morning”. “Hell, what's good about it?”
I find myself on a speeding train, stuck on a two hour journey to my office trying to catch up on lost sleep with my fleece pillow Gertrude when out through the window of my carriage I spot my old London jailer, Canary Wharf. In the distance it towers over the east end of London underneath the grey blue skies of the city. Like the twin towers of New York it screams out at you yelling, “I am the church of the modern people, at whose altar you will worship the might symbol of the pound sterling and Masonic dollar. Come hither all you heathens who want to sell your soul for a meaningless number of our printed tokens in exchange for the time that remains in your short miserable lives!”
Enter the far end of Borough Market I discover a street corner that is taking a shower in the morning sunshine. I stand in this golden spot for two minutes with my eyes closed drinking in the warmth and the light as the morning office workers rush by not giving a toss or realizing how special this September morning is. I continue on my way to my office realizing that I should write down all the things I wrongly thought I enjoyed when I spent five years working in London.
“Good morning to you sir!”
I call my mom even though I feel more estranged than ever with her. "Mom, I want you to know that, I am there with you on the couch even though I am not...! And you are here with me on the train, watching the sunset that is like a prayer, even though you are not!" "What do mean?” "Nothing never mind!" I am so tired of mushrooms growing from holes in the ceilings of our living room and our kitchen. I am going to stop paying rent until it fixed. On top of that nobody wants to clean the house toilet, bathroom or even hoover the carpets in the common areas of our shared house. Anyway folks do you know what I am looking forward to tonight? No. Well it is a big toke on a big joint which was given to me as a present by Mateo. Oh yes. Guess what, www.espn.com's latest blunt headline reads, "Euros trash US at Ryder Cup". ESPN writer Gene Wojciechowski sums it up in succinct fashion. "Underdog... we lose. Favourite... we lose. On home soil... we lose. On foreign turf... we lose. "With hard-ass Hal Sutton as captain... we lose. With caring, ultra-organised Tom Lehman... we lose. With Michael Jordan and former presidents Bill Clinton and George HW Bush in attendance... we lose. With Tiger Woods playing five matches... we lose." Wojciechowski also came up with a nine-point plan about how to make the US team play better. Point seven reads: "From now on, the losing Ryder Cup team has to clean up after the winning team when it's done partying. If that doesn't work, make it watch BBC 4." Now you may be tired of losing Gene, but there's no need to drag the BBC into this.
******************************************* Lubricia is still in Germany helping her mum out. Her dad died suddenly. Lubricia wants to celebrate his life but her family think it weird. Since he suffered so much from anxiety and depression in life she feels it is a good thing that he was relieved of this suffering in such a sudden and painless way. I admire her attitude. I want people to celebrate my passing and not pretend to mourn my absence. ******************************************* The Latin party with Matteo is better than I expected. Salsa is more than just dancing to me. It is pure joy. There were more pretty women there than I ever imagined. However, I was not there to pull but there to dance. I take the opportunity to put into practice what my physio told me yesterday. She said practice that movement that hurts you most. After trying to play tennis I know that movement is the crouching down movement I have to do when I prepare to hit a backhand shot. I look like a crazy man at this Latin party as I lunge from side to side on the dance floor hitting an imaginary tennis ball with my imaginary tennis racket to a real rock and roll sexy salsa beat. I don’t care because I am lost in the music, lost in the rhythm and lost in two of my favourite passions of all time, tennis and salsa.
“Gary I am in town on business and I need you to whoop some asses on the pool table over here in Picadilly. I think we can make a lot of money. Do fancy coming over?”
Padraig confesses to wanting a different life to what he has at the moment. He craves more time just to himself at home. He craves a different challenge in life. He is quite jealous of those men of his age who are not tied down by a family or commitments early on in life and were able to take huge risks to become entrepreneurs and build up their own successful business. I am still not tired so we all go for a curry. Bruce is a naughty boy. He cajoles us all into going to “Secrets, a tits and ass bar in Hammersmith. However, fair play to him, he pays us all in and buys a bottle of wine. It must have cost a couple of hundred quid. We are all just little lost boys in the woods. The nymphets don’t waist any time in coming out from behind the trees to saddle up to us in our dark red cubby hole in the corner. I feel I am been attacked. There are six of them squeezing their way in between us apologising for the intrusion but insist they must do it because it is part of their job to befriend the customers. I feel it is a con but Veronica assures me that we don’t have to pay to talk to the girls. If we want a dance it will cost twenty pounds. I am not intrigued nor attracted to her so I escape to the toilet. Coming back I sit down beside Natasha who looks bored beside Padraig. She reminds me of Anna Kournikova and I ask her to dance for me. She takes me off to a corner where she writhes in her glimmering satin dress twisting her slender tall body around to stick her ass in my face. Slipping one shoulder strap off and then the other she wriggles out of her dress in time with the music. I feel she wants me even though I knows she does not. She is good. Sticking her finger in her mouth she leans down and rubs her firm small tit in my face. Her body is perfect. Her ass grinds up and down in between my leg. Her pussy is shaved and then it is all over. In her sexy hot Russian accent she says “You know I kuud dance fur you again, or I kuud go width you to the VIP room for one hour. It wud cost you 250 pounds and you would have to pay for a bottle of champagne too. Wuuud you like baby?” I decline, the price is too high. Padraig has two dances. Andy has two, Bruce and Steve have four each. They are insatiable and greedy. After a while it is all too boring and we leave. Andy wants to visit his old workplace when he was nineteen. He worked in a pub off Goldhawk road. This rings a bell in me as that was where I got my first paid job as well. He is forty too. How different the life journey of two Irish boys ends up being. We started out the same trying our luck out in the jungle of London but one of us ends up with mindful meditation as a goal and the other flies his own plane but is desperate to give up smoking sixty fags a day while he plans his next million pound business venture. I really want him to visit his old workplace as I love trips down memory lane. But Bruce and Steve, like two spoilt children, want to go back the hotel. But first we go for a drink in an Irish pub near the hotel. I chat up four American girls with my magic routine and get the boys to join in. But two of the girls are stuck up and so we piss off to a night club. Andy promises the boys that he will pay for two whores to give us a lesbian show in the hotel. Padraig leaves the night club to phone up a phone number that he found in a public phone booth. He comes back telling us that he has visited the flat of two whores who won’t do a lesbian show for us but will fuck each one of us for £125 a go. Andy is determined to change their minds. When we arrive at their flat they insist through the intercom that they will only let two men at a time. Andy goes in by himself to negotiate a deal. The three of us stand outside in the cold of the night like three children who have robbed an orchard, guilty as hell. I have had enough. I go up to intercom and say I want to come up. She buzzes me up and as I arrive Andy comes out saying, “Go on in lads. I have paid for four wanks.” Padraig comes up too. This is great. Me and my old buddy are whoring together. We are like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid, like Starsky and Hutch, or even … well you know what I mean! I want us to be serviced in the same room together but the tall slender blonde Italian girl, the one that Padraig fancies too, has different plan and leads me into a small bedroom lit by a small red lamp. She tells me to take off all my clothes but tells me to do so in Italian. I want a unique experience so I reply in my bad travel Italian as she massages my back for two minutes. I love this Italian exchange but I find it hard to get and erection. I try to do it myself but she stops me insisting that she know better than I on how to make me erect. I succumb to her will.
“Te piache?” She stands over me with one knee on the bed by my waist. She strokes her shaven pussy with her left hand while massaging my cock upwards with her right. Like a proper dirty bitch she sticks her red wet tongue out at me and licks her upper lip. “Veni, veni, mi uome. Veni en la mano de tu belisima Italiana!” What happened next I will leave up to your imagination!
On reflection, this whoring seems to be what grown boys often now recklessly do together as a bonding ritual when they out together at night in a strange town. It is all very sad in reality and just mildly exciting. And yet I feel we are stupidly willing to pay large amounts of money to go through this bonding experience and risk severely damaging our own partner’s feelings if found out afterwards. When we grow up are men truly older and wiser? I think not! I think, if honest, all us grown boys would agree that it was a lot more fun, when as kids, we stole the apples from the next door neighbour’s garden. And to be sure it was a lot less risque both financially and emotionally. Do we crave the first touch of a woman so bad or do we sadly hang on to experiencing some other splendid childhood thrill each time we throw ourselves into the empty arms of a nightly nymph. There must be a better way to feel that thrill once again as adults. Please let me know if you have a good suggestion. I for one, don’t want to continue to unnecessarily damage my partner’s feelings and support such a demeaning clandestine industry.
******************************************* 
Glynde is another picturesque typically English antique village that we are visiting this weekend in Sussex. We climb to the top of Camber fort at sunset.
After walking through the wooden gateway into another field we spin like children back down the slope to the village. It feels like a class A drug high but this feeling, is all natural, pure joy.
“In fact inside the completely sealed glass box we had two buttons on the wall. One was for listening to the referee’s comments and the other was to listen to the crowd. How sad was that? There, you can decide if you want to listen to the local crowd or not!” As I go out to sit on the terrace with my beer, an Arsenal steward stops me. “I am sorry sir, but you can’t bring your drink outside onto the terrace!” “Why not?” I ask in disbelief. “Because sir, they fans might smell the alcohol. We don’t want that do we?” What a load of rubbish, but I knocked my beer back and go out to cheer on Arsenal who score three times.
******************************************* I feel reconnected to Noyolo in Mexico once again. I feel I know the point where she is at on her own map of life at the moment. I know her current joys, fears, hopes and despairs and it is all thanks to the bravery she has shown in answering some of my most searching of questions.1. Who makes you laugh this week? “My self and my dog.” 2. What place is it impossible to pass these days? “One place that was very difficult to be in was the hospital where my aunt was this last days, I passed all the night there and it was very difficult.” 3. Tu droga esta semana? “Viajar en moto, si es rapido mejor, antes me daba miedo pero ultimamente lo disfruto mucho. “ 4. Tu comida? “Estoy tratando de mantener mi peso, asi que solo desayuno fruta, en la tarde vegetales y un poco de carne y por la noche en estos ultimos dias elotes mmmm yummy, es el tiempo de elotes ricos. “ 5. Tu bebida esta semana? “Agua pura.” 6. Que te da mucha energia esta semana? “Empezar nuevos proyectos de arte con niños en una nueva escuela y en un taller de arte que estoy empezando por las tardes, me emociona y me hace ser creativa....me pone feliz.” 7. Que te esta bajando la libido esta semana? “El egoismo de mi pareja. Lio tiene tendencia a un idividualismo mal entendido. Es dificil para el maneter una contacto profundo, me refiero emocionalmete, y tu sabes que para las mujeres eso es importante. Yo se que es, para el, dificil pues asi a tenido que ser, asi crecio, pero a veces es muy dificil para mi, porque siento que no hay profundidad.” 8. Que saca tu lado radikal/rebelde esta semana? “Los comentarios mal intencionados de personas.” 9. Que es la cosa mas absurda te pasa esta semana? “Sentirme responsable por los problemas de otras personas. Mi tia pipas (la recuerdas? Es la gordita soltera hermana de mi mama.) tuvo un accidente hace 7 meses, y no puede caminar bien, el gobierno paga su sueldo, y me pidio que la reemplazara en su trabajo, y asi lo he hecho, pero ahora que por fin despues de mucho trabajo estoy teniendo oportunidad de empezar nuevos proyectos en el area que me interesa. Ella no quiere que deje su trabajo y lo que ella me pide es que la siga cubriendo sin importar mi propio trabajo y mi bienestar...me senti culpable pero ahora entiendo que no debe ser asi.” 10.Preferias sexo fuerte/ rapido o amoroso? “Primero lento y al final rapido y fuerte....grrrr.” 11.Como pasarias todo esta noche si no tuviera que dormir? “Caminando en alguna ciudad bella y desconocida para mi, teniendo una perfecta platica con algun buen amigo(a) o con Lio.” 12.Cual es tu truco de belleza esta semana? “Un corte de cabello que me hace parecer mas joven, sonreir y moverme con ligereza ja.” 13.Cual es tu sueño hoy en dia? “Tener una casa en el campo, poder tener un estilo de vida que me permita pasar la mayor parte de mi tiempo en esa casa soñada en el campo, ya tengo el lugar donde me gustaria y sabes, hay posibilidad que algun dia se vuelva una realidad.” 14.Cual cosa safricarias hoy para lograr tu sueño? “Ganar mas dinero.” 15.Cual es tu perversion erotica favorita esta semana? “Tener ciber sexo con mi amiguito puertoriqueño, que para mi, es algo mas que una fantasia pero menos que una cogida.” 16.Cual es tu habilidad oculta esta semana? “Flexibilidad corporal.” 17.A quien le tienes la envidia esta semana? “A cualquiera que pueda pasar un semana completa en la playa.” 18.What is this week's strong view of another person that you have liked or disliked? “Nada.” 19.What is this week's dark moment for you? “Seeing how the body of my sick aunt dying little by little, she finally passed away. This year I have experienced death very close two times (my friend Sebastian's death). They are slow deaths, sad deaths, painful deaths...that made me remember that I need a good mind to live but more for death, it is very necessary to take care my body.....that reminds me of your bad diet by the way....” 20.What 5 things do you want to progress in today? “My meditation, my yoga ommmmm, my love, my compassion...and my English.” 21.What 5 things are you grateful for today? “My health, my family, my completed wishes and the good weather.” Lubricia and I are in a hotel up in London. I sneak her into my bedroom where we both take a hot bath, together! It’s wonderful! I suck and lick and bite her feet before she lays me across the double bed to give me a fantastic deep sexy massage! I fall to sleep like a baby in a mother's arms. It is so relaxing I never get around to fucking her brains out. It is a marvelous night of pure sensuality, for me!!
******************************************* 
I go to a counselor for the first time in my life. My aim is to one, have a record of being bullied by Simon at work in case I need it later on when I might have to leave the job due to constructive dismissal or illness. The second reason is because it will give me a new avenue to express my thoughts and feelings. Patricia is the name of my counselor and psychotherapist. She asks me to talk about my childhood to see if it has anything to do with my current feelings of paranoia, stress, humiliation and feeling threatened at work. I feel I must give a negative account of my childhood in order to back this up. So I exaggerate it a little bit and start talking about my regret that I only got attention for being a sickly child and that I missed out on normal schooling because of it. She suggests that I was always behind in school because of this atopic condition.
Therefore I was always going to feel stupid in school or at work later on in life. It feels strange to talk just about me for forty five minutes. But I am enjoying telling her that I have felt like a piece of shit all my life. I am enjoying telling her that I probably spent many years traveling because I have always felt like a piece of shit at home, in the workplace, in the family environment, with my physical condition and with my emotional partners.
"Ah yes, let's talk about you partner at the moment?"
"And what about your job now?"
I tell him that she is in a meeting and I have asked David to get her to sign when she comes out. He loses it with me and shouts at me in front of everyone to go back upstairs and interrupt her meeting and make her sign the sign-off document. I froze. I felt so traumatised by his actions and I went back to my seat. The worse part was that my own manager, Richard, came over to criticise me for not going back up to interrupt her meeting on Simon’s behalf. He was my manager. “How dare he take the side of another contractor who has been here much less time than me. What a betrayal. I felt like a piece of shit. Ever since then I have had panic attacks, I am certain people are talking about me behind my back all day Patricia.” I am sure they are looking at me and thinking, “What a useless piece of shit Gary is'. Every morning I wake up crying. I don't want to go into work. I can't sleep. I am exhausted and I can not concentrate at my desk. I hear people calling my name out in their conversations. I am angry at the world. My whole body freezes every time I notice that Simon is somewhere near me. I feel like cowering down in a corner and pleading to him to please leave me alone. I can not look him in the eye anymore. His voice makes me tremble. And the irony is that I feel even more like a piece of shit for being such a wimp. “ “It does not help that I am permanent there. Last year they laid off loads of workers. I though I was entering into a secure job when I took the position. Only two months ago they give notice to half the finance department. I feel like I am having a nervous breakdown. What is wrong with me Patricia?” I start to tell her about how I was unable to help Yaya in Spain when we worked together and how I felt like a piece of shit for several months afterwards but she cuts me off and says, "time is up I am afraid, shall we meet again next Tuesday?" I can not believe I have been talking for so long about myself. She reminds me that I used the expression 'piece of shit' twenty ones time in the session to describe myself. Patricia recommends that I repeat to myself three times a day, "I am not a piece of shit" and that when I get a panic attack I should close my eyes, clench my fists and breath slowly.
******************************************* Correct me if I am wrong folks but, I feel that one of the reasons women like gay men is that they can talk about sex with them without seduction been on the agenda. Hey you know what, a female's friendship with a gay man is very similar to a female's friendship with a married man isn't? I suspect, from my own experiences, that in many heterosexual friendships one person always secretly fancies the other but they have to keep it quiet in order for the friendship to keep going. Mix sexed friendships as well gay man/hetro man friendships develop elaborate flirt rituals too. Unconsciously, we flirt a bit and then step back; flirt a bit and step back making sure never to cross a particular boundary.I myself have formed solid friendships after the end of a relationship when the break up did not involve and imbalance of power. Friendship can blossom after a brief affair too; with no more sexual mystery it is easier to trust one another and feel there is nothing to hide. Some of my former intimacies are to me like stars in the night sky. I can now see their beauty and they do not caste a shadow over me. Sharon, Maya and Cristina are like stars in my night sky. I hope Lubricia will be one day too. Making friends with a woman is actually sometimes more appealing to me than seducing her. What is friendship? Friendship can be characterised as the love that longs to know another person, and be known by them in it? But sadly, I sometimes grieve at my own knowledge that the strongest and most tender of friendships are not likely to ever exist between me and a woman without some sort of sensual relation whether open or hidden. Friendship is not so much about need as finding a lover is. With Lubricia I fear at this stage she would feel let down if I only offered her my friendship and not a sensual or intimate emotional relationship. What is it all about, life that is? How often do you ask this question or try to answer it. Lost count, me too! But why trouble yourself with this all the time. How can I take a break from this type self introspection? I will tell you how.... 1 By acting and feeling part of a community 2 Through Intimacy and through being in love. Through watching children grow and by being there for them we will think of nothing else! They can anchor us firmly to our existence! 3 By living in the moment and by concentrating on our physical senses (smell, taste, listening and touching) through conscious breathing, sex, yoga and physical exercise. If we don't allow ourselves to do this then we are not concentrating on the present moment! 4.By participating in a community we can do something that makes us feel useful and appreciated!
Combine all these and you will never stress over your existence again. NOT! Hey we should be so lucky? On top of that, I am going to try the following to keep some emotional balance in my life and a connection to my senses. 1) Colour therapy. Breathe in one colour and breath out its complementary colour. 2) Eye exercises. a] Cup your eyes for five minutes, splash them with warm water twenty times and then with cold; blink at the nearest finger then at the longer one; sway and blink left and right 50 times at something far away; b] Gaze at a new colour every day. 3) Drink unsweetened cranberry juice every day. 4) Do a Qi-Gong breathing exercise with the hands. 5) Enter something into your gratitude journal every day. 6) Visit an online meditation zone at the end of every day on the PC or on the train home and do one of your sleazing exercises. 7) Steam breathe two drops of tea tree and Ravensara oil in two hot cups of water for ten minutes. 8) Stimulate the “three mile point” below your knee with acupressure, then briskly rub the outside of the shin bones. Then cover them while breathing deeply?
******************************************* Malgosia seems to put her masters of NLP up on a pedestal only to have them sometime later to be knocked down by some human foible or sin. Her Gods are all men and their fall from grace quite enjoyable to the listening ear. Sweeping back her long blonde hair, pulling down her several sizes too small t-shirt over a revealing flat stomach, she sighs to tell me that her most recent master fell, due to unprofessional lust. Paul McKenna fell due to bad magic, ostentatiousness and for casting bad magic spells on her out of his fear. Peter Neely fell from grace because of his pride, hypocrisy, and lack of interest in how much time effort, adoration she had put into being there in front of him at that moment in time. Acidentally Malgosia seems to be elevating herself to their less than god like stature in the world of NLP and even above them by her own constant complaints of mistreatment by super men.
We go for a sauna at down near the Lidol. We crave the warmth after a long week of winter coldness. After watching the full moon and the fireworks outside I give Lubricia a long head and shoulders massage on the top floor. When she comes round I suggest we go to the private massage rooms on the floor below. Here she decides it is my time to be spoilt. After a delicious massage she climbs on top of my hard cock and allows me to share in the unique visual pleasure of watching, from underneath her torso, another couple saddle up beside her on the black plastic leather massage mat. The other lady whispers in her ear, “May I caress you?” Lubricia nods and I get to watch the other couple sensously caress and lick Lubricia’s gorgeous shimmering white satin body while as drives down hard on my cock and succumbs to the six hands that gently guide her towards multi coloured orgasmic tsunami. My visit to the knee specialist was crap. £160 for 10 minutes. A bloody disgrace. He kept me waiting 20 minutes, did not have my physio notes, was in a rush, had a poke at my knee and told me to come back after I had an MRI scan on my knee at the Nuffield too, coincidently his hospital. He did not even ask if my right knee was becoming fucked, which it is too. Give me the NHS any day rather these vampires. I feel very jealous as Stella tells me in the kitchen that she is interested in taking over Lubricia's flat while Lubricia is traveling in Spain. In fact I am angry. She is my lover and friend and only i should have it. Why am I feeling so rejected and hard done by right now? Lubrcia had offered it to me twice but I have rejected the offer twice like a howling hyena turning his nose up on a skeleton springbuck. Why? Because I felt, if I took it, I would be taking advantage and using my actions to falsely give her the impression that I want to have a serious relationship with her. And that is not what I want, a serious relationship. And, since she has told me twice in a year that, "she loves me", It would be cruel to have her think that I might want to move in! To be free to my non serious intentions I would have to move out after two months and find a more expensive than before double room in a shared house or be cornered into cohabiting with her. And that is not a experience I want to rush into two years after my last co-habiting trauma. Or do l? Is that why I am angry and jealous that Lubricia is offering her flat to someone else! She would be an interesting person to live with. Who says we could not still live a hedonistic life together. I don't have to live with her forever. It is not a death sentence. Actually with Kerry, Sharon, Cristina and Yaya it felt like a death sentence sometimes. Gary, change your perspective, look on it as an opportunity not another possible trauma...hey! 1) Don't fret about the small stuff and remember, 2) It is all small stuff really…… init! *******************************************
"Rodin was just a child at play." Lubricia treats me to a rare exhibition of his work at Burlington house in London. We arrive for the last hour before the museum closes. We amble like old friends through hundreds of sculptures wearing headphones that give us an extra insight into the man and his creations. I feel at home like a man with his family. The ethereal living visiting girls, the black bronzes, the terracotta clays, the ice cold marbles and the snowflake plasters fill up my senses like fine wine in a small secret hidden away Parisian restaurant. I find Lubricia watching me secretly from a distance on many occasions. Why? I don't care. I love it all. So much of beauty and myth is really just perception and word of mouth. The marble kiss made in Lewes was not made by Rodin as I wonderfully discovered by another's tale in the summer. He made the smaller clay version but he supervised one of his assistants with the giant marble version. His assistant cheated as well. He used a machine that was connected to the smaller version in order to cut the marble to the exact proportions of the original. Or, is this just another myth created by Rodin in order to criticize the work of another good sculptor and thus safeguard his great standing in the community of art? He certainly hardly ever praised the work of his mistress Camille Claudet. On the contrary it seems he reduced her function in his life to only that of a lover and then later a woman gone mad because he would not leave his wife. The museum is now closing. Even though they rush us through the last three big salons of sculpture I am already drunk and satisfied with what I have seen. I know that one day soon I will return to making my own creations whether it is charcoal sketching or tactile sculpture. It is now part of me, now part of my preferred way to connect and reconnect with the gift of my senses. Olympia and I go to feed the ducks in the park. She is manic but interesting. Even though she is attractive I have no desire to seduce her, however, I do rather enjoy just drinking in her energy, listening and speaking in Spanish and listening to here tales and opinions on life and psychology. Her father died an alcoholic when she was four. Her mother, Ursula, told Olympia that she only married him because she was lonely and crazy in a redneck town in eastern Poland to where she was banished after university and because a beautiful young man at that same university had rejected her mother’s offer of eternal love on her day of graduation. “The shock of all this caused a mini breakdown and the doctors released her with a life long prescription of drugs that have made her fat and who she is today.” Olympia says that her mother could have decided to be strong after the breakdown but feels that she had decided to be weak. "That is one of the differences between me and my mother. I would always choose to be strong after my breakdowns." I ask her if she were to look back in hindsight, was she a life collector of anything or any metaphysical things. She says, "Yes, souls". I believe her. She got married to Alejandro in Italy for the papers. After two years a Columbian brother and sister came to the fruit stall where she worked and wanted to take her out for the day. She felt so good with them she said yes. The night before their date she sat up all night paranoid. She thought that because she was blonde they were going to kidnap her and take her back to Columbia. Her husband did not know she was going to go out with them. “If Alejandro knew he would have killed me.” She felt safer with the Columbian boy Francisco in the back of the car because she knew he was infatuated with her. For the next month she secretly met him around Firenze while she was pretending to walk her dog. Then one day he left for Spain. And this is how their love story started rather than ended. “Pure passion.” She manages to escape to Poland for two weeks to tell her mother that she is leaving her Italian husband for the Columbian Alessandro. Her mother has another breakdown and tries to stop her. Alessandro can't go to Poland to be with her for the two weeks because the Polish embassy in Madrid takes two weeks to process the visitor’s visa. So she goes to him in Madrid. But as soon as she arrives she gets a call telling her that her mother is in hospital in Poland. She had a depression attack brought on about her worry over her daughter leaving a secure relationship in Italy for a insecure life in Madrid with a Colombian man. ”I mean, this is the most important decision of my life and my mother can't support me. No, she has to go and create a drama and now all the attention is back on her." Olympia flew back straight away to Poland. But once back in Spain the two immigrants struggle to make a good life there. Francisco hates a country where he has to join the Spanish army in Murcia to get legal status in the country. Why should he have to fight and die for the Spanish in Iraq just to be able to look for proper work. They spend all their money on seeing each other every other weekend. They decide to go to Columbia where the stay at his family’s house for six months and then into an apartment for four months. The new accommodation does not stop the fighting between them. Olympia decides she has had enough and buys a flight back to Poland. Francisco’s father even offered her the money for the flight saying “You should leave Francisco, he is bad for you.“ Francisco gave her enough money for a sandwich on the plane. The two weeks she was in Poland she fought like cats in heat with her mother. She had removed all her old furniture from her room and replaced it with second hand ugly Communist furniture. After that she flew to Glasgow to start a new life. The dream was that Francisco would agree to make a go of it again with her and they would live happily after other. After three months of no communication they gently renew their affirmations of love for each other. Two months later he reveals he has a new girlfriend and he can’t go over to Scotland to join her nor would it be a good idea if she came to him in Columbia. A few months later, after promising herself never to be led on by him again, she meets a guy called Mark down in London at a Paul McKenna conference. He graciously recommends that she try out setting up a life in Brighton and that he would try and help her as much as possible.Now Olympia is here in Brighton creating a new chapter in her star lit life. So what has been her faith up to now with money and a career. She has good prospects seeing as she has quite a responsible attitude towards everything she undertakes. She can apply herself well and strives to succeed in any difficult situation. She can take charge and end up running things her own way without depending on others but she is not inclined to be someone else's manager in this respect but rather her own. Olympia is drawn to work where she can care and help improve the quality of other peoples' minds. This carries over into her personal life where is known as the friend who is always there for others. She is smart and sensitive and competitive. She is sensitive to unconstructive criticism from a loving partner, comfortable with strangers and is a perfectionist. She likes to trust her gut instinct and intuition. She would prefer to work at a job that is higher pay than one that she enjoys and likes to focus on comfort and happiness. And now before she goes to Italy to get her divorce papers started she gets drunk with Mark. “Even though he is in what he says an unsatisfied relationship with a Chinese girl he confesses he loves me and can see me as the mother of his babies. Well we had sex and you now I need to have sex sometimes too and after what he said to me I was you know so emotionally overwhelmed. Now I don’t know. He says he needs time to sort out finishing with his girlfriend in a good way and I feel I should give him time because, you know, I can see myself as the mother of his babies too. However when we meet tomorrow I don’t want him to talk about how bad he feels in the relationship he is with girlfriend. I feel is lying when he talks like that and then tells me he loves me but can I see that he stays with her.” OK I have just decided there are some things I have to apologise for not doing so far. If you think that I am talking about saving the planet think again. I am about to apologise for not having visited some of the most beautiful beaches in the world. I have read that it costs around one thousand pounds for a week in one of these places. That is for flight and accommodation with a couple of drinks thrown in. I plan to visit at least two of these places every year over the next three years but for the third of the price. That is the challenge I am setting myself. The beaches that fall into this to do list are (in no particular order)
I have a great four hours with Lubricia. Not fucking but chatting. But it was as intense as four hours of sex! Since I cannot fuck with my bad knee, I am happy to invest my energy in creating thought provoking conversations. She tells me that her weaknesses are fear of failure, feelings of been defective and that she has abandonment issues. Jesus, we have more in common than I thought. I knew about her fear of failure but I did not know she had issues of shame associated with drawing the dole and housing benefit. “Every so often I fall in love with people who cannot be there for me in a committed way and I often get desperate when they pull away. I don’t expect a partner or lover to continue providing emotional support, strength or practical protection and I often choose partners who are unreliable and not there for me. Quite often I devalue my positive qualities and I feel I would be considered unlovable and a social misfit if my desire never to work again in my life was made open knowledge to some people I care about. This may come about because I come from a hard working Protestant upbringing, I don’t know. I often experience deep shame because of my anger, selfishness and I am hypersensitive to unconstructive criticism. Because of this I often feel flawed and defective. On top of that I feel I don’t have any special talents and I use to often feel I was a failure when it came to achievements. In my last job I worked extended hours and weekends because I fundamentally felt that I was inadequate when compared to my peers. But now I know that is not true and it devalued the type of job I was doing and the people who had the same job. When I was a teenager I had dreams of been an artist but didn’t pursue it with vigor because of my average art grades and the lack of encouragement from my father who was artistically talented himself. I am not saying it was his fault but his lack of interest did not help.” “I think you should have tried at least. Maybe now is your time. Go on girl, do it! Anyway if it makes you feel any better I don’t feel I am Mr. Perfect either. I feel shame at expressing to anyone that I would secretly like to have two female lovers. I know one of would definitely be you. I even feel shame when I want to express my desire to be with my oldest ever lover .... my solitude. Every so often I am attracted to cold partners who can’t meet my needs. Kerry for example, Mary for example and also Ianna too were cold bitches I fell head over heels for. I reckon this is a result of an absence of positive praise, a lack of understand and a lack of guidance on the part of my mother when I was a teenager. I think I have some of her traits too as I often feel disconnected from the females I feel closest too in my life. No wonder I have fallen for women who cannot be there for me in a committed way. Despite my disconnection from the women closest to me I get desperate once they pull away. I often feel they will eventually end up emotionally unpredictable, unreliable and will abandon me sooner or later for something better. It does not help that I sometimes feel that I do not have any special talents that really count in life and that in general I am a failure when it comes to achievement. Even in my current job I feel imperfect compared to my colleagues in the same field. I know I am not but I sometimes think that I am stupid, inept, untalented and ignorant in the things I like to do most like stock trading and that kills me. ” At one stage in the conversation we both agree a guy can say something deep once, mean it and then forget about it while the girl will hear it, ponder on it, wonder on it for a week or two and might even fuck him sooner than that to find out what he actually meant when he said it even though by then, he will probably have forgotten he even said! I feel the warm sun caress the cheeks of my face on a crisp November morning as I stroll along on the lower promenade on the seafront. In the Terraces Cafe on this sunny day the Sunday lamb roast is dressed in red wine gravy, roasted parsnips and roast potatoes. It satisfies me so to eat it while gazing at the veterans vintage cars that honk on by below on the seafront and after marveling at the jetskies that tango their way under the Palace pier. I am so good at pool I seven ball Rob the gentle Scottish giant who is one of the best pool players in Brighton. "Oh yes!" And I can, with one visit to the table, do the same to Tom, the best player in the Polar bar. I did it to him after he sank the white and a five of the same colour off the break. "Steady now!" Well once again we are in the sauna in Brighton. We never know how it is going to turn out but we both agree that if it is only a sauna then it is just faboulous. But if something special or naughty happens in the rest rooms then it is extra. I like the chats we have in the sauna and the steam room. It is a place to speak openly and frankly. We have a lovely chat with Susie the masseuse who was brought up in Germany too. That conversation carried us away so much we found we had little time for anything else. “Where would you like to go next?”, Lubricia asks me. “I would like to go upstairs sexy, but where would you like to go next?”, I ask her. I think she says downstairs for one more sauna before we go home but as we leave the lounge she starts to ascend the stairs. Wait a minute I thought we were going down. I don’t correct her. At the top of the stair she stops. I feel she is asking me to choose between the rest rooms or the outdoor balcony. As time is limited I open the door to the rest rooms. We don’t get very far as three other naked people are blocking the hallway. They are watching three people getting it off in the very first massage room to the right. One of them is a slender twenty something black girl. Her white lover is fucking her hard from behind as another white plump blonde reaches in between his legs to stroke something. Lubricia imagines the blonde is stroking the black girl’s clitoris and I imagine she is stroking his balls. A couple who watch on beside me decide they are too horny to watch any more and go into the second cubicle to fuck. Lubricia surprises me when she starts to move on. I follow her only to be stopped by her on the first corner. She stills is waiting for some guidance from me. I can see there is someone in the room with mirrors to the left. We have never done it in this room. Nervously I gesture to her that we go in there. Lubricia follows. We lay our towels down on the raised platform beside another couple and I sit up against the ruby red wall. There are mirrors to my left, a mirror to my right, two slanted mirrors above me on the ceiling and I think a mirror in front of me. I only get a semi hard on but I am enjoying so much the novelty of seeing the many reflections of our bodies and the bodies of the couple next to us in the multiple mirrors. After a couple of failed attempts to enter Lubricia’s pussy I decide it is time to masturbate and get my cock fully hard. It is not usually necessary with Lubricia but at least I know thanks to a recent conversation we had that she enjoys watching a man play with his own cock. Once I get it good and hard Lubricia mounts me and fucks me slowly from on high. Every time I am close to coming I sit up and hold her close. I lick her nipples as we fuck but this time she does not orgasm on it. I love holding her close. But then I push her back and look up at the ceiling mirror to watch her fuck me. I can see my cock slide in and all the way out of her pussy. She does not look up very often. I feel she does not enjoy the mirrors as much as I do. I would love to sculpt or sketch this picture of us that I see in the mirrors. It is wonderful. From the corner of my eye I can see the black girl looking at us while her fella plays with his own cock. She is bored or angry I don’t know which. I wonder if they will jump in with us. It does not matter. They are just another wonderful momentary distraction. Finally I turn Lubricia over to fuck her from on top. I drive my pelvis out not in. It gives a better hammer and thong motion and I know this is what Lubricia is craving for at this moment. She moans and screams at the same time as the big breasted twenty something girl next to us. Both she and Lubricia come at the same time. I don’t know if the orgasmic moans of that girl next to us encouraged or hindered Lubricia’s now starting orgasm but I can’t hold it any more. I let go howling like a wolf inside her. My scream is higher pitched than both of the girls who are climaxing below and next to me. We are all like singers in choir. ******************************************* I am Earls Court at George Michael's concert. He is late coming on, an half an hour late. Is he having a big fat doobie behind the curtains or is he too scared to face the seventy thousand people baying for him to come out. He does not disappoint us for long, here he comes! 
Within three songs I am out of my seat standing up and dancing to the classic Wham; "If you are going to do it right, do it with me!" George is coming at me from two giant video screens which are to the right of the stage. When he runs over to my side all the girls around me scream and shout I love you George. But I know he is looking only at me. I can't take it no more. I go down to the balcony to have some more room to dance. The security guard sends me back to my seat even though I claim to suffer from a fear of heights. "Last Christmas", "Jesus to a child", "Freak" send the crowd into a frenzy. This guy is so talented. I don't understand why he hated giving concerts before. He is a natural performer in front of a crowd. I know Yaya would have loved it if she had stayed in Europe. I feel it my duty to experience George Michael live once in my life even if it is tainted by the absence of Yaya. However, I have to say, I am having a fucking brilliant time here on my own. I love going to concerts on my own for some reason. I truly feel I am floating in different dimension. I can selfishly soak up the atmosphere and take all the energy the artist or artists are giving out in their performance without having to give any of my own energy to anyone else I have come to the concert with. If I was with someone else I would spend half my time making sure they were having a good time and half the time trying to have a great experience myself. I prefer to have a great experience one hundred per cent of the time, especially if I have to pay one hundred and five pounds for a ticket. It’s time for George to have a break. He is sweating like a pig but looking good in is black silk suit. He is not twenty any more is he? He comes back on in a white suit and sunglasses. He seduces our bodies with "Freedom", "Outside", "Wham" and several more. I can't take it anymore standing by my seat. I shoot alf way down the steps and stand on one wide step to dance. I have room to dance form side to side and shamelessly swing and gyrate my butt and hips at George. I feel like the funkiest dancer in the world. He finishes me off with Carless Whisper". I am left hoarse from singing along.... "Never going to fall in love again, guilty feelings got no rhythm. Should have known better than cheat on a friend, wasted time, always the fool. Pain is the heart ache. Never goin fall in love again, tired of being the fool." Joe is a 54 years almost toothless fucker I love in the Polar Bar. And he is there tonight. “How you doin kid?” “Alright Joe how are you?” “Tired kid. I will be alright if I am left alone. I cannot converse with anyone tonight. I will be alright if I have a sleep here on the stool for the next hour. What’s that? Look my toot is loose?” He has only two teeth in the front of his mouth. One of which is now loose. It is black and long and yellow and it is about to come out. Joe rocks it forwards and rocks it back. He rocks it forward and rocks it bad as it begins to give more and more. The last gesture is a bit more forceful of him. He grabs hold of the tooth good and begins to pull. It rips away from his gum and tears into Joe’s hand. He has a quick glance at it in wonderment and puts in his pocket.”“Jesus Joe. That must have been painful. Let me get you a whiskey for the pain.” “Don’t worry kid. I am alright it was nothing. I will be just fine if I am left alone.” I play pool for fours hours and have a great time. As I am about to leave at half one Joes pull me over to one side and says. “Fancy a roast dinner at my place. Come along kid you are welcome. Will ya come. James is cookin.” 
I oblige. What a weird and wonderful invitation. Roast dinner in the early hours of the morning. Is it a blue moon? Next thing you know, they will be offering a cup of Earl Grey tea in a petite white china pot here in the Polar bar. In their flat there is now James, Stuart, Joe and eye. James has the arcade game called Defender. Yes the full size stand up against a game called Defender. It is my all time favourite video game. And it is here in front me. This is surreal. I have to play. And this is how you play it. You are give three star wars type ships to start with and three bombs to drop. The idea is to complete wave after wave of attacks. Wave one you have to shot all the pods or not let the green gremlins take the pods to the top of the screen. The gremlins shoot at you slowly as you try to shoot them. Some square float around dropping mines that you can easily drive into. The pods in the second round have floating mines in them as well. This is when it is best to drop one of the bombs you have as it blows up everything visible in the screen. If you get all pods in one bomb you get a bonus. I can thrust my star ship along with one button and reverse the direction I go in with another button under my left thumb. I play about twenty games and I manage a lousy 29000 points compared to James 650000. And he was not even trying. But I love it. It brought back memories at been one of the best at doing something for the first time in my life. It brought back hours escaped from doing homework. It meant high self esteem and fun. Stuart who is also here in the flat, is a blast. I thought he was just a stupid non coherent tattoo freak at first. That was until he started to tell Joe about his time in prison. “You don’t know the meaning of Christmas Joe until you have spent it in prison. I was there and I saw one man who was twice as hard as me. He was someone who stood out in front of a truck and the truck driver was one the too scared to continue in the same trajectory. The trucker was the one to back down at the last second. He was the hardest of the hardest in there and on Christmas day in prison her was crying like a baby in my arms on the floor of my cell. That day is the worst day for any prisoner. I would not have been in the hard con wing if the prison guards had not done what they did to me the previous day. But I was there. I was there on Christmas day with twenty eight of the hardest cons you ever knew and by the end of the day, let me just say, they were only twenty three of us.” “Hey guys did you know Joe pulled out one of his front teeth in the Polar bar tonight?” I enquire trying to change Stuart's morbid conversation. James says, “I know, I heard. Now that is dangerous. Joe should go straight to the doctor for some antibiotics. Pulling out that tooth has left an open wound, an open hole in mouth that leads all the way down to his jawbone. If that bone now gets infected he is fucked. He definitely needs a two weeks course of antibiotics. Stuart objects. “Na man, I know all about wounds. All he needs is rinse his mouth out in salt and water twice day to keep away any infection. Look at this piercing in my chin. I never had to disinfect it on the inside of my gun. I only had to bath the wound in salt and water on the outside. The mouth is a great place for keeping away infections all on its own.” Joe sighs and stops both of them. “Hey, what does it matter if my mouth gets infected? So I get lockjaw. What does that matter in the big schemes of things. Nobody cares. Nobody cares. It will have absolutely no effect on the rest of the world. If I died from the infection, let’s face it. Nobody will care and it will not affect things in the slightest. Everything will continue going on. Look at Stalin. He murdered hundreds of thousands of the greatest minds in his country out of paranoia. How did that affect the rest of the world? How did the world suffer by the extinguishing of those great minds. The world suffered not a jot. Puff, gone! Their deaths had no consequence at all. So how will me dying from an infection in my mouth matter. It does not matter at all in the slightest. People worry about the silliest things. So you guys should not worry about me get an infection in the mouth.” “I think I know what you are getting at Joe”, I say even though I am struggling with his outburst. "But tell me, are you sayin that you are dying and no one cares or will care if you are?". “No kid. What I am say is that there are only two rules in the world. One, Don’t worry about the small stuff. Two, It is all small stuff”. “That’s it. That’s it kiddo!” “But Joe, it does matter if someone lives and dies. It matters how they live and how they die. It is a person’s responsibility and gift to live as content as possible and if someone finds themselves suffering in this life then it is their duty to give that suffering a positive meaning and carry it with dignity until they die. Then their life has mattered. That is one more life that has mattered. They may not have changed the world in anyway. But they did matter. We do matter. Hey, everyone finds themselves going through some kind of prolonged suffering in their lives. What has been one of yours?” “Nothing. I have never suffered kiddo. I have had a great life. Nothing has ever made me go through suffering. Nah not me. Your wrong. Well if you want to call the rough time I had to go through after my divorce then maybe. Anyway kiddo what has been your suffering.” “Eczema Joe, eczema. That has been the suffering I have had to give meaning to and carry with dignity all my life, eczema.”
I am at another concert on my own. This time it is Primal Scream at the Brixton Academy. I love going to concerts on my own. Did I ever tell you that? I love it. I stumbled across Primal Scream playing live once before. It was in New York. I was lost and heard this funky music going on inside a church. I went in and I found them playing on stage while several erotic dancers danced in cages hanging over the crowd. It was brill. Here I am again. I am right up in front of the stage where I say hello to Ellis and Ellen two girls. Primal Scream kick off their set with five punk songs. I close my eyes through all of them and see strange lights travel through my mind as my body surrenders to the music and the crowd slam up against my body. I am so selfish. I don't want to even acknowledge the crowd. I just want to soak up the live music with my eyes closed and my body swaying. Strange bodies slam up against me. Briefly opening my eyes I find Ellis and Ellen been pushed up against my body by the slamming crowd in front of them. MY hands graze up against both their asses at the same time. Ellis has a sweet small ass. I can't move backwards because of the crash barrier behind me. I close my eyes and enjoy "Get your rocks off, get your rocks off baby" while they slam back into my open body and brush their asses up against my open palmed hands. It is intoxicating exhilarating and dizzying. Soon they disappear into the crowd and their bodies are replaced by different people through the night. Sometimes it is a guy slamming up against my body sometimes it is a girl. They both have different smells and as the night gets hotter and sweatier they smell turns from high street perfume to animalistic primal secretions. I am truly left exhausted, emaciated and satisfied when they finish with "Strong" and, "Move it on up now". Well done you talented Scottish bastards. “So Lubricia, if I were to ask you what are your top four best gifts you would give to yourself that would make you go wow?” “I think they would be
“And you what would you give yourself as a present Gary for Christmas that would make you go wow?” “I don’t know. Off the top of my head I would say,”
“One of the best gifts I ever got in my whole life was a second hand fold up bicycle which was given to me by a group of colleagues up in Scotland. They knew I was having a horrible time sharing a bicyle with one of my roommates and they must have done a whip around to get me my own bicycle. It gave me so much independence up there and I cherished it. So given your own perception of me what do you think I would go wow at if I received a present from someone else?” “I would only guess that you would go wow at a present like”,
I have invited one of my demons back into my life, the stock market. I have shorted 4500 RNWK at 11.95 and today it has given me some feelings of success as it has fallen to 11.40. But I know it is a monster waiting to attack. I choose it supposedly because it was at a resistance level of 12 and supposedly because it is not a leader in a very competitive field of music download software suppliers. But the real reason is because, I can’t resist. I need to risk all and prove my theory that the Market is in a 1969-1973 turning down phase when actually it has passed it and is probably is in the 1935 to 1937 phase. I won’t let go of my belief and will bend every square into its round hole until I have lost loads. If I believed in no cycles, ate humble pie, went the other way on the same day it arrived on my plate and just played the 5 and 3 akaido turning points I would be more reactive and fluid and I would be much much better off this year. I find it hard to let go, to change my method and take the opposite position out of fear of losing my sense of direction and strength. What is your biggest demon? I struggle with my demons, of which I know there are two. The first you now know, the second I think is, “I cannot and will not let in love”. I can accept another woman’s love but I can not let it penetrate me. Just like now with Lubricia. She begs to know how I feel about her in her diary. The truth is I don’t know? I don’t know if I feel anything for any woman any more. I don’t know if I ever felt real positive painless joyous never ending love for anyone. The only thing that penetrates my skin is pain and suffering and when that is caused by a woman I guess I see that as love. I see Lubricia’s love for me all around me. I feel it in her body in sex, see it in my eyes, know it in my brain and sense it in our embraces every time I hold her and it kills me. It kills me to know that it will never truly penetrate my skin. This is my demon. It has happened with every girl, and will happen with every girl I get involved with in my life. Tragically, one of Yaya’s biggest demons was the same. She could always acknowledge my efforts at helping her out of her very low moods but she could not allow them to penetrate beyond her skin into her soul and heart and affect her life. They only ever got as far as her eyes, her brain, skin and her hands. Everyone who cares for her suffers the same faith. It must kill her too to see them shortchanged like I have shortchanged other woman. I think that is why I feel so close to her still, because I can relate to this, one of her worst demons, and the devastating effect it has had on others. I wish I could freely celebrate this demon in me instead of sometimes regretting it. At the Brighton Sauna I sometimes get a feeling I can or at least there I feel no regret while surrounded by so many other men, and women, who are unable or do not wish to let love penetrate their souls. “At the very end, may we see that all along, our demon was a friend!” I have been in the Polar since 1pm this beautiful Sunday morning. I sat outside the terraces bar in the cold morning sun drinking a cappuccino with a chocolate twirl, counting the yachts and feeling grateful that I am still on this spinning planet with all these people around me. I felt lucky. Even RNWK is going the way I bet. I am all in and 5% up there so far. Will I end the year on a high with it, I hope so! Chelsea has just pulled off the miracle of beating a great Everton side today with 3 great goals from Ballack, Lampard and Mr. Magic, Drogba. We won 3-2. That means I have to stay in the pub for the Man United match against poor old struggling West Ham. When Chelsea won I thought the feeling of excitement could not get any better today but as West Ham score and beat United I become ecstatic. It is as good a day as any birthday of mine. It has caused me to fly on the pool table as I play with Abel, Ziggy, Rob, Luke and Justin, the last two been West Ham supporters. Luke sharing a great day of his own with me confides, “Youg know what Gary mate, today was good, I am delight to see Man U get their arse kicked but I am really a Luverpool supporter. As you can imagine the best football day I every chad was last year when Liverpool beat AC Milan in Istanbul. Yeh, I wus dare mate. I flew from Dublin to Amsterdam and from there to Istanbul. The ticket for the match alone wus £375 but it was the best day of my lichfe, and dats no kiddin.” 
I am wearing my pajama trousers and my multi-coloured Peruvian wooly hat as I glide around the pool table and the pub chatting to everyone. Even though some people think I look stupid, I feel great. I love what I am dressed in, it reminds me of my weird multi coloured jacket Sharon bought for me in Peru. I spot Justin pretending to play on his mobile phone in order not to look like a loner sitting at the bar… “Allright Justin? What are you doin there. Who is that on your phone. What is Loveday” “That is the name of an ex girlfriend of mine. It is a Cornish name. They like to give that name to the first born in the family if it is a girl.” “Wow. I love that name. What a great tradition”, I thought. “Of course the first born is going to come out of one of the first moments of pure unplanned passion in a couple’s history. It will be born as a result of the first intimate date or on the wedding night. It will have been born out of pure passion, pure love, all day. Why not call the child if it is a girl, “Loveday”? Why bloody not? Nice one Justin!” I play everyone and I beat everyone. I leave the pub for a kebab after beating Nolan and Rob several times and I even 7 balled Joe twice. But been a young 58 he is still a little too shy to drop his trousers and show us his legendary northern manhood. Three more days of work and then I am off to chill out for two weeks in La Manga with Lubricia. Mmmmmmmm. Delicious times ahead. Can’t wait. Roll on 2007. Birds Chattering
[HIM] Club Champagne in HH is actually next week Gwenyth. While we are waiting we could go to the Brighton sauna this evening instead. Shall I drop by yours at five with a bottle of bubbly to relax us into our own impromptu night of the senses! William x
[HIM] Dr Kinky would like to know who you have choosen to be tonight. Who will he have the pleasure of attending to? ...Dr K x
[HER] Lady Cat requires a vet, to be on her side for tonight. When Dr K is horny it will be a pleasurable, sensual, sexy and naughty event, to which Dr K needs to attend. Lady K
[HER] Keep thinking of you and your sexy body and my fantasies are running wild... Lx
[HIM] Hello baby! I do hope you are finding the energy to enjoy this week and the time to express your natural wonderful eccentric self. Enjoy! Gx
[HER] Gary, the thought of the sensation feeling your hands touching and caressing my breasts makes me shiver and massaging your cock gently, tasting it and feeling it move in my hands and mouth makes me forget anything else...... Hope you are not shivering due to a cold. Lx
[HIM] Jesus Lubricia. Luckily I was silting down already cos I nearly fell off my chair when I read that naughty message. It was so sexy and lascivious. Fabulous.
[HER] Chez toi sounds wunderful my sweet. See you at eight for our mid week date. I will try not to be late but, if I am, please endeavor not to be irate. Gx
[HER] Thank you, handsome, for a lovely Sunday evening outing, for sharing your interesting and inspiring thoughts with me, having a gorgeous experience feeling your body and for just being who you are. Thanks for lending me the speakers. I am wishing you many happy moments this week, a sense of satisfaction following your path, and good luck with your wish for feeling passionate about your work. Lx
[HIM] Thank you my lovely. Enjoy the sunshine on my behalf while I am stuck in an office. Let the Sun caress your body and nature your imagination until we meet again this weekend.
[HER] 
Hello handsome, I hope your week has started off well and will continue throughout. May you will find strength and willpower to practice emotional detachment especially at your house meeting. And I do hope that Gertrud will give you enormous pleasure and comfort when she travels as your companion on the train. Lx- PS. If you like to play a bit more with the heat gun today or/and tomorrow night, let me know. It would be lovely to indulge in a short and sweet encounter with you tomorrow evening sharing a delicious home cooked meal. That should not stop us enjoying a slow and intimate diner rendezvous at some other time. Lx
Oh chèri, what will be will be, whatever time you arrive with pleasure I will see. Do trust me, I try to do my best and not be miss tantrum towards my guest. Lx
[HIM] Still in a dreamy state of feeling you ON TOP of me with my '2nd touch/vision'!
[HER] Did you feel pain or pleasure? Hope if you played tennis that the latter was the case. Just wondered if by any chance it would be possible for me to see you today at some time for half an hour or so? It would be really, really good if so. Lx
Hello honey. Thank you very much for your lovely wishes and general kindness. Thank you also for being a great companion at the weekend and for the new experiences and education as well as having had it organised so brilliantly. Gary, I wish you for this week many times where you can truly live in the moment as you like it and reach a peaceful mind before you are going to sleep. Lx
[HIM] Hello free bird! I hope you are having a wonderful time! May your week be glorious, your lows be few and may your highs reach the highest crest. Cos remember, you are simply, the best! Gx
[HER] Thank you so much for your words. They fill me with energy and strength to focus on what is important to me especially during my stay in Hamburg. Also thanks for your kind offer. I can think of one at the moment. If it would be possible for you and you have some time on the weekend, let's share some fun, honey!! Maybe going to the fancy dress party you mentioned or anything other fun? - I just watched an amazingly beautiful sunset and the Gypsy Kings have given me some moments of joy today. I hope you experienced some moments of joy during your day, you are great Gary. Lx- PS just watching out for hijackers!
Merci mon ami spécial, joli et beau! Now the sky is blue I will reach the top of the mountain with joy in my heart. I hope during the week good and magical food will appear for you to indulge in, the stockmarket will play the game right for you and your highlights will fill you with happiness, maybe just appear within simple daily pleasures or some unexpected excitement. May your lows be as few or fewer than last week. -- Be prepared for some unbridled laughter on Thursday evening in the Dome! Lx'
[HIM] I hope you find a way, over the next few days, to embrace the good (celebrate) and ignore the bad(you know what), and where being yourself, will mean everything and nothing to you at the saMe time. If there is anything I can do for you from this end, just ask.
[HER] Merci beaucoup mon ami et amant, my joy for the moment has been beautiful and my heart has practised acceptance calmfully. -- I hope your week has started with you being able to concentrate on what is important to you, finding strategies to manage pressure, successfully 'switching off' in order to nourish yourself with energy and being truely proud of yourelf seeing and feeling all your great qualities. Sweet dreams Lx
[HIM] Hello honey pie. I think you might be or your way to Jermany today. If so, I hope you find the luck to savour the good emotions and the strength to accept all non positive emotions that land on your "lake of feelings" and see them as just passing clouds reflecting off the surface of the water.
[HER] Hello handsome, no tickets this weekend, but next friday. Hope once you leave the office you have a sense of satisfaction, gladness, calm and feeling relaxed. Thank you so much for resuscitating my music of dreams, inspiring me to learn some first aid and your wonderful, inspiring and interesting company. I hope you could enjoy the magical weather yesterday. May you have the willpower of believing in your abilities in work this week and every time this 7 men watch you having sex you start to enjoy it immensely. And I know you will see the beauty in every day. - Can I invite for a diner of seduction and massage for tomorrow evening? Lx
14-10 [HIM] T h a n k s f o r b e i n g t h e r e ! Thanks for been the highlight of the week gone by LUBRICIA! I do hope you progress in your adventure to become part of an artistic project this week! Guess what sexy! I have booked into a hotel this week. If you came up Wednesday or Thursday evening, I could try and sneak you into my room! LUBRICIA, it was a pleasure to suck and lick and bite your feet in our warm sensuous hot tub before you laid me out across the double bed to give me a fantastic deep sexy massage! I fell to sleep like a baby in a mother's arms. It was so relaxing I never did get around to fucking your brains out did I? To me, it was a marvelous night of pure sensuality!! Thank you and see you, later!
[HER] Hello my sexy man of charm, magic and pure joy of the senses, you took my breath away with your message. With you the night of the senses never seem to stop. See you later for unbelievable fun and when I may tell you 1 or 2 secrets of mine. Lx
Gary, thank you for finding the energy to listen to my little thoughts and worries despite that life had made you feel exhausted, tired and low. I wish I could have supported you yesterday and hope that 5 funny guys, food, massage and meditation at least made your day end in a better spirit. I truely hope that your day feels relaxing, calm, floating with experiences of 'highs' and the feeling that life and yourself treat you well as you so much deserve it. You beautiful, creative, thoughtful, fun loving, free being. Lx PS. For me you are the sexiest man I've ever met.
[HIM] It is so naughty but I love your diaries LUBRICIA. It is great to read them and it is good to feel very close to you on your journey through life even though we are physically apart. You are intelligent, artistic and just as sexy as I have always thought you are. You are great. Have fun and good luck with all steps you take this week to EMBRACE YOUR AUTHENTICITY...
And you, darling LUBRICIA, captivate my mind with your prose, satisfy my spirit with your touch and tease my cock with your stroke! Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Other Chattering ************************************************************************************
I am upset with my housemates for being so sloppy and I want to communicate this with them.
“We are not living in a hostel for drug addicts and drunks. We are living in a shared house where the shared areas should be cleaned so often that you would be really proud to invite your mother/girlfriend to live here. Right? You know that you are not cleaning like this.e.g the shared toilet (disgusting) etc. So, a professional cleaner is coming on Saturday at 11am to start cleaning up this shit hole. Each housemate will pay 10pounds (three pints of fosters mate) per month in advance. Come to me with your 10 pounds as soon as you arrive home today! By the way, Koko wants you to vote in favour of a cleaner coming twice a Month for 3 hours at a time. This will cost us six pounds each per month. 3 of us can pay the first visit and the other 3 the second. 2. Please text all the housemates your Vote/view by Sunday if you want your vote to influence a final decision. ”
But then things change for the better in the house. It feels like a home again.
“Well folks, after the cleaners efforts, I would be happy to invite my mum or lover to visit me here. I do apologise for the way I communicated it all. It was not the best way. Seeing as everyone is so damn busy can we vote by text. I vote we get a cleaner every two weeks for 4 hours. What would you vote for?“
Tony asks how I am. “Upset Tony Cos: 1. Not enough time / energy cos of job to hug kiss and shag someone I know who is willing! 2. Despite my defensive moves on the stockmarket I am still getting fucked 3. My skin is on fire! 4. Physio has given up on helping me run again due to new painful Complication. At least I can walk and the job is interesting! Hows the new home?” ***********************************************************
Lubricia pulls me to one side and looking serenely up into my eyes tells me,
“Gary I think, after learning about not only all your travels but also the deep emotions you have gone through when you felt deeply attached to another woman, that you are a very courageous person. You are such a creative person playing with thoughts and ideas about life, your fellow human beings and the way the world works. You have a great capacity to give kindness, love and empathy to others and you have a genuine interest in people. You are so gifted in creating a special, magical atmosphere which makes me often feel like being in a special world of dreams. I love you spontaneity. You are reflective on your own life and actions and it feels like you have a great drive and desire for internal improvement and inner growth. You have a certainly a special gift for writing and poetry. I love your sense of fun and humour and see you as a very sensitive person too. I may be wrong but it comes across to me that your sensitivity can also overwhelm you quite a lot. I know it can feel scary to you and I think from what you told me, you try to shut out some of your feelings. If I were in your shoes I wonder if I would want to gain the strength again or find another way to embrace all these feelings once more. You have talked about your times of low self esteem too. Seeing that you are such a beautiful human being I hope you to find a way to see yourself in a bright and strong way with lots of good self esteem. Your relationship with failure and success also seems like something that gives you struggle. If I were in your shoes I think I would want to find a good balance between the two and I would continue to put some energy into the dreams for your Sunchildren. I might even look again for someone with whom I could do it with. Don’t give up! One more thing! Find some exercises to improve your memory – just joking! I think you have already found some pretty good strategies. That’s all I wanted to say to you. How do you feel about what I have just said?”
The heat in the apartment is due to the two gas rings we have left on all day and also due to the portable electric heater the landlord has installed being left on all day too. Not wanting to return to nights twisting and turning under the apartment blankets I buy a double duvet and cover for us both. Now, in my eyes, everything is complete for our first slow comfortable screw against the white rustic walls of the bedroom. Lubricia’s sweet little ass slides up and down my cock harder and harder until I can’t resist painting the walls of her hot wet pussy with my juicy cum for the first time in three weeks.
My first sunset frightens me to death. The memory of sitting here alone for five months comes back to haunt me. The sunset is as awesome as the one I tried to forget. The water is a silver mirror whose edges disappear off into the distance to embrace far away lands. The mountains are black and jagged. The three islands are black and asleep like three baby elephants. The sun sets behind them like an orange dipped in water and hung out to dry. I want to go skating on the water not skiing. I want to slide all the way across the island and wake up the baby elephants. The far shoreline lights up like a Xmas tree. A party is starting it seems. I want to be there or maybe they want to be here. I sit in silence with Lubricia by my side staring at this moment of true beauty. It is a moment of spiritual ecstasy.
I am grateful for the energy I found to make the fine food I prepared today. The pasta I use is a rustic tagelitelli which is great for binding a sauce to its surface. This is because they use bronze dies instead of aluminuium ones to make long lengths of pasta. But of course the sauce has to be a good one too.
I cut the celery, onion and carrots up into small bits and fry it with olive oil. Then I throw in the sliced up mini frankfurters with a half a tub of Piarra Tapa Negra pork liver pate. Once all these flavours bind I throw in a dash of rioja crianza. The flavour is good but not great. Something is missing. I may have been wrong about the need for tomato puree. The ingredients are crying out for tomato. But I resist throwing in a half a jar like I normally do and throw in two table spoons only. I add one more table spoon of red wine and bring to the boil. I keep it like this until the sauce has reduced. Then I let it cool down and condense. The proof is in the tasting. My mouth goes into ecstasy with the smallest of spoonfuls. Perfect. My best ever.
On the table I put two glasses of Rioja Crianza, one for me and one for Lubricia. I want to show her how much I care and how much I appreciate all the wonderful meals she has made for me in Brighton over the last year. I have not made her many at all. Now that I have the time and desire I want to impress her. So yes, on the table I put two glasses of gorgeous Rioja Crianza, a small square ivory saucer of grated cheese decorated with one emerald green celery leaf. Beside that I place a small round white ivory plate of Bulgarian salad. It has olive oil, balsamic vinegar, finely diced white cabbage rolled in sea salt and diced cucumber. For decoration it is surrounded by bright orange pieces of mandarin rind. This mandarin I peeled. I then placed its tiny segments into another white square ivory dish on the table with slices of banana sprinkled in sugar all over. The complete the table set up I placed two folded white napkins under the glasses of wine and put a brown wooden cutting board with warm fresh rustic baguette at the head of the round table.
The black mountains that snake along the horizon across the water from our balcony at sunset have a fiery red spot light shining up behind them. If the world stopped spinning at this very moment then I would regret its end. I am grateful to be able to see this sight once again, so grateful. Even though my days are filled with self pity, regret, sadness, joy and contentment I can safely say that it is thanks to Lubricia being here in La Manga with me, they are filled more with joy and contentment than with the former negative emotions. I am sure it would be the former if I had been here all alone by myself in this flat.
Xmas day begins as an XXX day. Lubricia lies beside me in the bed. She caresses my naked body as I lay there half asleep faced down. She strokes my bum, my legs and my shoulder for several minutes. Then she runs the back of her fingernails up my spine out in in arch over my shoulder. Wow. It is great. My body shudders from the pleasure of her nails. She has never done this to me before. She runs her nails over the cheeks of my ass and back up along my spine again. As soon these nails dig into my shoulder blades my whole back arches like a black cat confronted by a dog on the street. Meowww!
I fall off to sleep for another half an hour. When I wake up I jump over Lubricia’s naked body and embrace her from behind. My body wraps around hers as she lays sideways in the bed. We are like two sidelong dessert spoons. I sporadically squeeze her tightly and grind my hips into he little tight ass. After a few minutes of this she can not take it any more. She pulls me over on top of her and kisses me wildly. This sends me into frenzy and before I know it I am slowly guiding my cock up along the walls of her somewhat moist pussy. All I can think of is...
"You are my nymphomaniac, you are so divine. You are my XXXmas present, You are my love toy. Mine, mine, You are, all mine."
After two lovely coffees, one with chocolate and pepper and the other just extra sweet we exchange Xmas presents on our bed. She loves my two cards. One card confesses that I feel she is the one person who has brought me the most joy in 2006, the year just gone by, and the other card teases her. It tells her that she has other presents but she has to find a way somehow to read her emails if she is to find out. I know when she reads her emails she will find two of her dreams presents come to pass. One is a two week drama course and the other is a one day Thai massage course. Lubricia loves to learn and loves to grow. The drama course will teach her new ways to deal with people and not always expose herself to criticism and emotional damage.
I open her present. It is a long love poem on a red scroll. It is wonderful .I am embarrassed. It is one of the presents I have most desired from any woman. I feel bad as she knows I find it hard to love anyone any more and I feel therefore I don´t deserve such unrequited words. And it goes like this...
"They say it is easy. Love! Or writing a love poem. So when I think of love, what comes into my mind? What enters my heart?
Love is so easy and still, and yet so difficult it seems? Love is easy, the feeling just appears? But is that love? Or just a joyful accidental jump of your heart?
Love, there are so many types you say. But is love not just one in all? Do we just express it differently to different people who are in our hearts? Love, should love not always be free, Without commitment, obligations, rules or laws?
It´s neither a game, Nor something which can be provoked. Love is something you give and have At the same time??? Love is not compulsory connected to a partnership, Or is it??? Well maybe in a loving partnership, but then does this partnership also bring Aspects within it which are conflicting with love itself??? Working that one out would be the real art???
Love anyway, that is what the poem is supposed to be about.
Love, can it come and can it go??? Love, is it about sex??? There is sex without love and Love without sex, so no??? Love, is it about trust??? Love, is it accepting the whole of another person, the glamour and the dark side, Or just the strengths and weaknesses??? Love, is it really about seeing the other person, Finding the essence of the other person??? Love, can it be unconditional??? Yes, accepting it all, but not celebrating all???
Love, true love is fearless. Love, true love is caring. Love, true love does not depend on distance. Love, true love does not know jealousy. Love, true love does not want to hurt. Love, true love wants to support and Receive joy from seeing the loved one grow. Love, true love hopes to share something. Love, true love feels connected. Love, true love is about respect for the loved one.
Can there be so many words for love, or do we just find it in our feeling world, Where words can’t say what feelings feel??? A long love poem, When words can’t describe it, Is that possible???
Love is like the feeling of your solitude. Love is like the warmth of the sun on your skin. Love is like the beauty and calmness of watching the sun rise from under the sea, Or from behind a mountain in the morning.
Love is like an embrace. Love is like a beautiful deep long breath With your eyes closed. Love is good. Love is joy. Love is always there. Love is within you.
You wanted a long love poem. Why??? Love is not connected to time or length. Love is here. Love is here, But yet it is not static, Love wants to grow, Love wants to move. You love and You are being loved. Pure beauty.
Jx
After presenting me with this great poem she invites me for a stroll on the beach. The sun is shining and we walk briskly along the Mediterranean side in the direction of the port Thomas Maestro. It is a, lovely day.
My family think I should be in Ireland for Xmas but I feel I must be here to chill out in this winter sun while at the same time exorcize some old emotional demons. I am glad that Alan and his family are having dinner with them in Castletown. It is there first time. It seems Anita and Alan are more and more in synch as the years go by. I hope the girls do not find it too boring. It is a first for my parents too. Before it was Paddy Murphy who was the grandparent invited to my parents and now it is my parents who are the grandparents who are been looked after by my brother and his family. It is all good. Things eventually come around full circle.
Dead love ones are listening. As if someone was reading my mind, my mobile rings. It shows as a number from England on the face of the phone. A girls voice calls my name. “Gary”. She speaks in Spanish with a Spanish accent. It must be Olympia wishing me a happy new year. “Gary, Gary, adivina quien es”….My recognises the voice the pitch the excitement in the tone. I scream “Yaya”, embarrassed as I do in front of Lubricia. I head out to the balcony because I am embarrassed to take a call of an ex girlfriend in front of her. Lubricia is cool. I respect her reaction. Yaya is all excited.
“Cuando vienes a Venezuela?”
“No se! En el ano que viene para vacionar unas semanas a lo mejor!”
I am embarrassed. I sent a mass email to everyone wishing them a Happy Xmas. However in it I say, “Hope to see you in the New Year”. This email also went to Yaya.Now she thinks I am planning a trip to visit her. I am not, or I was not. Anyway it feels great to hear her voice so positive and happy even if it because of a misunderstanding like this. She flirts with me on the phone. I like it but it also reminds me of how she choose not to return to me in Europe and how Lubricia has brought me so many moments of joy and sexiness in her absence. I feel a duty not to encourage Yaya any more and wish her a Happy New Year just before the call gets cut off. Still I am in shock and feel like a little boy who has stolen apples from the orchard and brought them home. It is all in my head. These are feelings of my own making. These may be just Catholic feelings. I just have to get rid of them and move on. Yes move on. Enjoy the holiday. Hmmmm. The chicken on the grill smells lovely. Time to eat! “Can I help you with anything in the kitchen Lubricia?”
I don’t understand it. I have little desire to scratch myself while Lubricia is beside me in the bed. But when she starts to get up in order to go out to the kitchen I start to scratch myself slowly on both shoulders in a crisscross posture. As soon as she leaves and closes the door behind her I automatically unconsciously start to scratch my shoulders really hard like an animal with a thorn in his foot! Why do I do that? Why do I wait to do it? Do I resist from doing it because I am beside her in the bed? Or do I not realise I want to do it when I am with her in bed? I think I realise for just a brief moment that I want to do it in bed beside her but I resist and then forget, especially when my body cozies up to hers or when her hand starts to caress my naked flesh. The absence of her touch seems to cause me to go crazy and scratch myself all over. I need her touch. Her touch is the drug I can’t live without.
2006 finished on a healthy note rather than a drunken messy one. I am with Lubricia. In the afternoon I lie flat down on the bed waiting for Lubricia to massage my back vigourously. The bedroom is warm thanks to the electric heater. Lubricia’s feet lie beside my face. She is still wearing her black socks. I reach across with my right hand and massage each toe on her left foot. I massage her little toes between my fingers and pressing down on the under bone with the tips of my fingers. She lets off several moans of joy. I work my way down her foot on one side then up the other. With my eyes still closed I move my right hand on to her right foot and do the same. It is a great way to get to know her feet intimately. They are so tiny and cute and easy to massage with just one hand. She confesses at the end that this has been one of the best foot massages she has ever had. I feel guilty because I feel I made so little effort. \i did the massage with my lazy eyes closed and my body hanging in a prostate position on the end of the bed.
She proceeds to stand over me and rub the aqueous cream vigourously into my back with all her weight. She guides her hands down along the deep crevices of my grateful spine muscles. She continues doing this for the next half an hour not only all over my back but also all over my shoulder muscles. I must confess she was not shy either when it came to vigourously going deep into the muscles of my sensitive posterior. She spread them far and wide and delved deep and deftly. Wonderful!
We have spaghetti Bolognese for dinner. But it is a meal with a twist. A meal that makes you laugh like you have rarely laughed before. How so? How can a pasta dish have this effect on two people? Well first Lubricia gives me the pleasure of gazing at her in the kitchen dancing topless as she prepares the Spanish spicy tomato sauce and the pasta. Then we both sit half naked in front of our plates without any knife or fork or spoon to eat the meal with. She reveals that as a child she used to have so much fun eating pasta with her hands.
So I say, “Why don’t we do the same now. Eat it with our hands. Shall we?” I feel so cheeky suggesting it but I feel she will float along with the idea.
“OK, lets do it, yes why not”, she laughs.
With our bare hands we spoon the spaghetti and the sauce carefully into our mouths. We both have different techniques. Lubricia holds the strings of spaghetti high up over head. She has a piece of bolognese sauce cupped between her fingers as well. Slowly she lowers the strings down into her mouth until she reaches the morsel of sauce which is dripping out from in between her fingers. She swallows her fingers whole. I however haul up a few fingers full of spaghetti and sauce with my left hand. I place the curved ends along with the portion of sauce straight in my mouth. I half hunker myself over my plate on the candle lit round brown table. Once I feel I have safely done that I suck the strings of spaghetti up into my mouth. The sauce on the strings of pasta gets trapped on my face and lips. It sometimes falls onto my chest as a small string of pasta breaks off. We can’t stop laughing at our childish behaviour.
It is so much fun we daringly agree to eat the freezing banana chocolate ice cream with our bare hands too. We laugh so much. The cold ice cream melts between our warm fingers. It slips and slides all over the place before we can get it close to our mouths. Both our pieces of ice cream are dripping in red wine. I joke around with mine. In front of Lubricia I slide one piece out of my mouth. Just as it is about to fall to the floor I suck back in quickly. Lubricia finds it hysterical. I on the other hand think I am being quite erotic. We both laugh like children. It is so easy to be childish with her. I don’t know if I am floating on her childishness or if she is floating on my childishness. All I know is that I am having so much fun.
In the bedroom we devour each others bodies. It so erotic to be so dirty from all the messy food and to fuck straight away afterwards! You don’t care how clean you are, how bad you smell. I feel like an animal. I feel real. I want to be an animal and I want to fuck Lubricia only like an animal in this moment. It is so primitive and so right to do it like this with all our masks thrown to one side. Together, in this moment, we fuck like dirty, unclean horny animals. Her pussy is so hungry for my cock. My cock is so hungry for her menstrual pussy. My lips are so hungry for her sweaty, pasta soaked neck. Her mouth is so hungry to eat my cock (without a knife or fork or spoon). It is the only way to eat, with one’s bare hands.
At midnight we sit in front of the big bay windows in the pitch dark looking out over the far shore line spotting one firework display go off after another. It is so pretty in the darkness. The moment is so special. It is a gift. I feel fortuitous. On the other balcony we are gifted a close up fireworks going off just outside Londres Apartahotel. People are screaming and shouting in the street but we can not see anybody. That’s La Manga.
In the morning I wake up early and with a few gentle caresses of my hand I whisper to Lubricia, “Would you like to see the first sunset of 2007 with me?” She does.
We drive all over La Manga to find a spot to park the car and find one just beyond the Sol Galua hotel. Even though we watch it though the wire mesh of a half built house it is amazing, so big, so round, so orange, so firey, so warm, so glowing, so positive, so promising, just like 2007 is going to be for us I hope. With that amazing experience under our belts we are on a high and spend the next hour and half driving all over La Manga looking for somewhere to have a café con leche. There is one café open in front of the Mercadona in Cabo de Palos. Outside it there are three young men in suits that have been drinking all night. They are screaming and shouting at the top of their voices slapping a belt off the back of one another as several cars pull off with their car horns blaring in the New Year. Lubricia and I go inside and sit at the counter. I ask for a catalan baguette which has jamon serrano an tomato juice on it. The place keeps filling up with young drunken drugged up to the eyeballs well dressed gangs of Spanish youngsters. The boys all look tall and full of hope for a life in front of them. They may be all cadets on a day off from duty from the nearby air force base in Santiago de la Rivera. They have invited their girlfriends to come on down to La Manga to spend the first few hours of the new year with them before the boys have to go back to the barrack and pledge their daily lives to protecting the Spanish nation. This does not impress the man with his arms stretched out on the bar. He is the most miserable moustached middle aged Spanish man you will ever see. Both his daughters are working hard as he gives out orders to everyone. The grandmother sits in the kitchen making churros and chocolate for the masses. His daughters serve them as well as making the coffees and the baguettes. Even the eight year Spanish beauty, probably the daughter of his daughter, is been ordered about by him. He does not say please to any of his family. He does not say thank you to any of the customers. He looks sad not miserable Lubricia thinks. We think we know why. At half past two in the morning as the place was packed a car pulled up outside and a woman with three men got out and burst into the café. The middle aged dark raven haired women in a long flowing flamenco red dress shouted out to him,
“I no longer want to be your wife. I never want to see you or this place again. I hope the bank forclose the loan you can not pay back on it. I am in love with this beautiful this twenty three year old here and have been for the last seven months. We are going to leave this place go somewhere you can not find us. You can keep the children. I have a new life now, a life where I can be happy at last. Adios, tontico, capullo, sin verguenza.”
As she drove off the car also backed over his favourite dog Piedra who had to be admitted to the veterinary clinic in the middle of the night for a fractured hip.
He had no time to stop her. He could only continue working in the café to keep the hungry drunken hoards at bay as he slowly saw the loan been paid off from the cash in his pockets which got fatter and fatter. Then a storm came out of nowhere and blew in all his big bay windows. Glass was everywhere and everyone left from the cold wind blowing all around inside the café. He had to call and emergency window repair man but on New Years Eve no one was prepared to do it for the normal double hourly rate. Only one agreed to come out and put in new window panes but only for an exorbitant criminal price. Our owner had no choice as he knew more and more party revellers would come looking for their churros and chocolate well into the following morning.
And now here he was serving us and the multitude in the morning sunlight, sad and broken.
We could not bare to watch him any more so following our breakfast we go to find the pine forest. We walk all along the beach and around the roads but can not find it. Eventually we do but the pine trees do not smell of fragrant pine. Lying down in the sun on the edge of the water we listen to an English woman in her apartment on the phone to someone sending new Years greetings.
“We can’t talk long my dear. Phil has to go to shop to get a fresh baguette. They close at two today and we can not go without fresh bread can we? On top of that we are short of money at the moment so we can not come to see you. Someone has broken into his accounts here. They must have seen Phil put in his pin number and taken a copy of his card. Who else would know his pin number and have easy access to his card. I don’t know. All over La Manga someone is taking out fifty euros here and two hundred euros there, and it has been going on for months. I think some waiter must have got hold of his card. You know how Phil is, his memory is not what it use to be, so he, for the life of him, cannot remember anybody taking his card, making a copy and then giving it back to him. Hello my love, Hallo, Hallo, Hallo my sweetie. No I am not taking to you my dear. I am talking to the dog here in front of me, Phil’s dog. Anyway my dear I have to go I don’t want you spending any more money on this call. Bye my dear.”
On our way back we stop off at the Cala de Pino yacht club for a go on their swings and on the seesaw. We play like children in the sun. Lubricia closes her eyes and soaks up all the good sunshine. She shows me how she used to jump off a swing in motion when she was a little girl. On the seesaw I swing her up and down and all around and we say that the motion can be quite erotic too she closes her eyes. She moans to the movement and to the pressure I put on her clitoris with the seesaw. We enjoy ourselves so much here at the club that we decide to have lunch here too. The “tinto verano”, the summer wine, red wine with lemonade, is the perfect drink for us to sit in the sunshine with. Two robins jump up on our white plastic table to dance for us. We dine on Dorado and tuna steak with jamon iberico and small mixed salad. Afterwards we have a mini siesta on the old sofas with a cortado coffee as the warm sunshine heats our faces enough to send us off into a dream world. What a splendid way to end the first day of 2007.
I am about to give Reiki to Lubricia and she is about to give me an all over body massage. We have eaten only fruit today and so our bodies have no impurities in them. In the morning we ate orange, mango and banana diced up. In the afternoon for lunch we had for a starter, two slices of melon each. Then for the main course we had one roasted tomato and finally for desert we had diced pineapple and banana. Banana seems to be our favourite so far today.
I have been concerned for the past two days about Lubricia been pregnant again. She says her period should have arrived last Friday and now it is Wednesday. This is part of the reason why I feel moody and I find it difficult to initiate sex. I am too embarrassed to ask her what she thinks. I have a slight fear that she will be pregnant just like this time last year. That is not a New Year’s present I want nor a trauma that I wish Lubricia would have to go through again so soon. I must ask her if she has started bleeding again. I feel like a fool.
We have had a long discussion about floating on each other’s energy. I tell her that I rarely know when I am floating on her energy. I feel she is usually just floating on mine or is giving off a neutral energy in order to not rock the boat between us. She had a boyfriend once who use to float on her energy all the time but she got annoyed with that as she felt she rarely knew what he was truly thinking, what was his true opinion, what he truly wanted to do. She could not get to the bottom of his mind. Another woman who floated along on Lubricia’s energy also annoyed her because she would agree to do something that Lubricia wanted to do but would stretch herself too much she did. She never knew her boundaries and how to say no to Lubricia. That would have been much better for Lubricia. I sometimes get annoyed that Lubricia wants to float on my energy. This is because she assumes I don’t want to float with my solitude when I have energy. Then I feel I have to apologize for saying I want to float with my solitude and so I feel I have abandoned her to find someone or something else to float along with.
The after sunset skyline is a cornucopia of luminescent orange candyfloss. A lone star twinkles above a small black yacht which sails across the grey and silver Mar Menor towards three islands that lay dormant to the left of my vision. The eight windmills on top of the hill look like they have been smoking a Cuban Montechristo cigar as a long tapered trail of charcoaled smoke spins off the left of them.
Lubricia wakes up. So do I. We look into each others eyes in silence for an eternity. She looks so beautiful lying here beside me. Her face is so beautiful when she is relaxed and lying down. I feel I am looking into her soul and she into mine. Periodically we smile at each other in silence. I turn to get a more comfortable position on such an uncomfortable mattress.
After a while I feel Lubricia’s small hand stroke my balls. It is a warm hand with an electric yet calming touch. It is divine. She strokes them slowly and gently in a circular motion. After a long time she starts to stroke my cock in an upward direction. But she does it ever so slowly so as not to wake him up. It is great to have your cock stroked when there is no sign that sex is what must follow. But my cock slowly opens his eye and starts to stretch. Lubricia’s caresses make him stiffen and tighten. Underneath the duvet he is now as hard as a rock. But Lubricia does not change the pace of her stroke. It is still extremely slow and still delicious. When my cock realise he does not have to go to work on her pussy he relaxes and softens and goes back to sleep even as Lubricia’s hand continues to stroke him ever so gently. I too fall off to sleep for another half an hour. What a way to wake up slowly in the morning!
Yesterday I ate fruit all day. It was easier than I expected. It felt like I had run into an old lover unexpectedly and we both spent all day in bed together getting to know each other carnally once again. It would not have been possible to eat fruit all day if Lubrica was not there to support me and tease me. I think she enjoyed it too. But today we both indulged ourselves in eating meat and bread. We also got drunk on red wine and drank coke and coffee and larger. Somehow I feel guilty, not for eating and drinking so much rubbish but for not continuing the fruit diet for a second day in a row. I felt like I had let down an old lover due to weakness and an insecurity that caused me to continue old bad habits.
Eczema and Epilepsy
As I lay here in bed holding the left hand of Lubricia gently I feel it twitch ever so slight. She told me two months ago that these involuntary spasms were a result of her epilepsy or the result of an acute attack when she was a teenager. I had not noticed them in a year of knowing her intimately. So obviously they were a greater issue in her mind than in the real world. She had thought all along that I felt these spasms during our intimate moments of tenderness and our intimate moments of carnal pleasure. Let me state once again, I had not. But this situation brought me to the conclusion that this is how I have always felt about my eczema or asthma, namely that I always think that others are aware of it when they tell me that they actually are not.
Let’s go a bit deeper with the parallel set of situations. If eczema is like epilepsy then eczema, which has no definite scientific explanation, is a form of epilepsy. What a monstrous accusation. I am not epileptic. I have never had any brain damage and I have never had any epileptic fit. Well that is if you don’t call an unforeseen acute attack of itchiness as one. What if it is? What if an acute attack of itchiness is an epileptic fit and that chronic itchiness is like these minute spasms that Lubricia feels in her left arm and maybe elsewhere in her body. Preposterous!
Now as I lay beside her in bed watching a movie several days later I unknowingly hold her left hand again. I love holding her hand when we are watching a movie together. I don’t know why. It just feels so natural and so right. It feels great. It feels good and comforting. Then the tremors in her arm start. I don’t think they happen all the time. I think they get stronger when she gets upset, excited or emotional about something. And then it hits me. That is when I often get bouts of itchiness. So my emotional jumps produce epileptic tremors o itchiness. Could this be so? Could this explain the universe of eczema? Let me try a bizarre experiment. When I scratch my itchy spot my itchiness stays away. That means my epileptic tremor stays away. So if I now, scratch Lubrica’s arm then her tremors will still away too. From yesterdays erotic back scratching moment I know she likes nails on her skin, particularly the back of a set of nails that are not so sharp. Is this her way of unconsciously telling someone that the way to alleviate her epileptic tremors is to touch her, if not scratch her. Slowly I drag the back of the nails which are on my left hand through the palm of her left hand. She groans to say she likes it. I feel brave now so I drag them up her arm and down again like a lost snail which has just crawled out of a glass of Rioja Crianza red wine. The epileptic tremors in her arm stop. I meander up and down her arm every so slowly dragging my nails behind. She moans and groans. The epileptic tremors don’t return. So maybe it’s true. Eczema is a form of epilepsy not an allergic reaction to substances.
Conclusion: You can stop epileptic tremors by a caress if not by light scratching. Maybe a person who suffers from epilepsy does not need pills at all but only needs a tender exciting long lasting touch from another human soul just like someone like me, who has eczema.
How long can a touch like this last before the tremors come back? This I must find out next. If Lubricia does not knows what I am doing for now then her mind will not affect the results during this short experiment.
I am in a church in town having
a quiet cup of tea. Sarah is the tall red headed Irish girl who serves me a cup
of tea. We have a lovely chat about Irish rugby and Spain where she also lived
too. But what gets me about being in a church is the fact that it is one of few
places where different kinds of people from all over the community gather despite
all their differences. Where a common faith once bound
us all together, we now seek a more individual form of spirituality. Ireland 150 years had their communities built on nationalism and religious beliefs. To lose
one of those would cripple most societies but we have lost both. Now however,
what makes our society so unique is not that at no point before has so many
people had so much access to so many ideas, insights and practices
simultaneously. And here in this Anglican Church
it is more apparent than over. Here in the church cafe hidden away from the
commercial jungle of the High Street is an Irish girl, a loving smiling Algerian
man who does not like being confused for a Frenchman, a twenty-something year
old English girl who threatens doing her kickboxing on the cheeky thirty
something black haired Turkish man. He is taking the piss out of everyone.
Beside him is the silent balding stocky grey haired man who laughs like a
little boy. In the far corner, a dark haired Frenchman is speaking to a middle
aged man who is secretly proud of the Iranian scarf that he wears. But what I
really want to say is that, what binds us all together here is not religion,
not nationalism, not a shared spirituality but actually, LAUGHTER, RESPECT AND
GENUINE CARE & ATTENTION FOR EACH OTHER. I found that religion could be
judgmental and I sensed that individuality was rarely valued and that is what I
prize the most in a spiritual path. However that is no reason to be constantly
suspicious of religious enthusiasts. These enthusiasts belong to a group where
often it is forgotten there are aspects of the positive, the creative, the
healing and restorative faith and that need to be highlighted. I have noticed
that to cope, the financially less well off gravitate to organised religions
and the wealthier middle classes explore “spirituality”. In the end it has to be said
that, it is not that religions are rigid and unable to develop and evolve, it
is that attitudes are. You can find someone equally indignant and sanctimonious
about their secularism and spirituality as you can someone narrow minded about
their orthodox religion. In the end it is just a matter of who you are not what
you are! Lubricia has been in my mind over the last
few days. The more I think about her return the more it gives me a warm feeling
to know that she will re-enter my life once again. I feel so lucky, I want to
scream. I am still enjoying being emotionally unavailable to any woman. It
still feels right. It helps me with Lubricia right now too. I am not paranoid
she will leave me and if she tells me she had sex with someone else in Spain I will not feel angry or jealous, just happy that I know her and have known her. This
attitude feels healthy and balanced. Is it wrong then? Meanwhile at work, Iain is a scrawny mean
malicious bitching backstabbing colleague of mine. He is small about five foot
three and wears a dark blue suit all the time. His face contorts into a fake
smile every time he talks and even though he may not mean it, there is a vague
sense of a sneer running across it when he squirks, “All right mate, what are
working on at the moment?” I can’t stand him. He is a tosser and I hold back
from telling him so every time he approaches me. And now for two weeks he is
going to be my boss. That is it I quit. I can just imagine him planning moments
to slyly interrogate everyone especially me. I am just going to fob him off
like a fly and just ask psychological questions back until he is blue in the
face and then tell him I am too busy to continue chit chatting and then say, “So
if there is nothing else, I must get on”. Rob or as he likes to pronounce it “Rab”,
is the new manager of my local pub, Polar Bar East. This six foot stocky
bearded Scotsman is the gentle giant. He is like the big brother you never had.
The fact he is ten years younger than me is not an issue. He embraces you with
a smile when you arrive and embraces you with a saddened smile when you say you
have to leave. That is his magic. He makes you feel like you are important to
him. In his twenties he dreamed of not only conquering the hearts of those he met
in Scotland but also the hearts of the whole British Empire. His vehicle for
doing this was, and still is to some extent, by performing as the drummer in
the Scottish band, Trent. Now he is the manager of my local pub he has put to
one side world domination. He always wears a floopy dark green jumper and a
tight dark blue wooly hat on top. I swear he goes to bed with the hat on. If I were to describe to you my
Sunday morning you would not believe me! Lubricia came over to sketch me, in
the nude. Yes this morning, I was a private nude model, at the bequest of
another woman. Lying naked and blindfolded on the bed I pondered which position
I would allow my artist to sketch first? I choose to give her a view of my
prostrated firm and my smooth back. Tuesday evening Lubricia comes
over again to give me an all over massage. I made sure the central heating is
on and also the electric heater. There is nothing worse than receiving a
massage when the room is somewhat cold. The first five minutes are so good I
could have been happy that Lubricia stop there. But she continues for the next
hour and I am the luckiest little Irish boy in the world. When it finishes I
slip under the duvet to enjoy the lingering affects of the massage, so does
Lubricia. She slips off her clothes to offer me her beautiful body and the
offer, is irresistible. Grinding my cock slowly into her perfect pussy I lick
and bite her tumescent pink right nipple. We both have an orgasm this time and
that feels so satisfying. We spend the next half an hour resting. As she lay
there in my arms I whisper in her left ear, "Would you like a glass of
champagne?” This is my surprise. I am not romantic but I wanted to make a
special effort this week. I bought three champagne glasses
this morning especially for this occasion and now I put my plan into action.
Earlier I had sliced up some strawberries and dropped them into the holes of
the ice tray. Then I filled the holes up with water and put them into the freezer.
Now was the time to take them out frozen. Y Voila! Perfect. After dipping the
glasses in raspberry and strawberry liqueur, I drop three ice cubes that have
strawberries secretly embedded within into each glass of champagne, yes
champagne. Not Cava but Champagne. Lubricia loves it. Great! What a success! “Would you like another one
honey?” I ask adoringly. "Oh yes, that would be
lovely", Lubricia purrs. We have two more and laugh like
two little kids who are hiding from their family in a tree house at the end of
their garden. As midnight approaches she agrees to leave for her home. I have
work in the morning and need a good nights sleep. Before she goes I bestow my
final gift, my final surprise on her. From within my closet I pull out a single
red rose with green and white foliage and ask her to accept it as a parting
gift, to take if she wishes, on her way home to her flat. She accepts. It is so
lovely to make Lubricia happy. She is dear to me, so dear. None
of these gifts describe how much I cherish her, how much I care for her, how
much I ache for her or how much I appreciate her.
Fancy a green drink now honey? Guess what? Once a month, in certain
cities, a group of like minded souls get together in a pub to discuss green
ideas and share initiatives. It is called the Green Drinks scheme and can be
found in over 150 cities worldwide. Brilliant, I must try and see if one exists
here. I want to be more part of the community, I want to feel in control and
feel like I am making a little difference in the world if not the local
community. I know there a Green project up in Whitehawk where you can get to
work on an allotment for one day every week. I want to get dirty and thirty and
thirsty with a bunch of people from my community. Hey, now they are saying fortune favours
the timid rather than the bold. I always thought the latter but now they say
that may not be necessarily the case. If a company or a group of people value
cooperation more than assertiveness in an individual then members of the same
group have shown to favour a timid colleague for promotion rather than an
assertive one. I wonder what my company values more. I reckon they value the
confident and authoritive employee more because over the past year I have been
timid and yet I have got passed over for promotion on two occasions. “Not only are you responsible for your
own life, but doing the best at this moment will put you in the best place for
the next moment.” I hope that will be case now that I have
taken a reduction in salary pension and holidays to spend more time with my
solitude and with my loved ones who are ill. Leonard Berkowitz and Anthony LePage found
that the mere sight of a weapon lying innocently on a table, far away from
anyone else, is enough to trigger aggression. I remember when I was been
attacked at the bus station in Caracas by five muggers it made me scared. But
once I thought I saw, in the middle of the highway, a wooden plank with which I
could beat them my mood turned more aggressive. The plank turned out to be a
flimsy cardboard tube. But they did not know, and fled. So the sight of weapon
far off maybe also triggers flight in certain cases. So, why do we sometimes like to watch
moments of cruelty on TV or in the cinema or read about them in a book? e.g.
Hannibal Lecter in the book Silence of the Lambs and Jane Goody on Big
Brother. We would never dream of doing what these serial abusers do, of course
but, when we read about them or see them dramatised on screen, we stand for a
moment in their shoes. Their acts revolt us, but they also – excite us! You can
see this in the faces of people reading these books or in the frenzy of a Jerry
Springer audience. Something about them stirs our most primeval selves. For most of us, the beauty of being alive
today is that we don’t have to rely on our violent, animalistic instincts, in
order to survive. How can I learn from my mistakes? I could try to not get personal and make
the distinction between what I did and who I am, and it will be less painful to
critique my behaviour. I could try to find a different perspective
by ‘reframing’ the situation and by asking myself the following :– “How much worse could this have all been,
and how would I have felt if that the worst case had happened? How important
will this mistake be in 10 years from now?” How can I leave work on time? I can show respect for myself by asking
myself each day, “Am I really prepared to carry on working for free?” I can judge myself sparingly by committing
to leaving earlier three nights a week and it may actually enhance my
image. I can get the other guys on my team to
agree to leaving earlier too. What do I long for that I have not
expressed to my lover? I think it is that I could invite Yaya to
this country so that the three of us could live together in harmony. But that
is just a fantasy. And that is how it will stay. What does my lover Lubricia long for
that she has not expressed to me? I do not, really know. Before the year
started I learned from reading her diary that it was that we live together on a
full time basis. Now I am not so sure after her two months away. This is
nothing something I crave but do sometimes imagine. I know I am happiest when I
can spend 60% of my free time with me and my solitude not answerable to nobody.
How could I achieve that if I am eating, sleeping, fucking, sharing all my free
time in the shared home of my loving partner. Impossible! I would feel guilty
all the time and feel I have to apologise for wanting to go out and find my 60%
of solitude. If we lived together I would fear that our relationship would
become less exciting or fun and more responsible normal and predictable. I hope
Lubricia is not hiding any negative feeling about our relationship. If she is
then it will probably affect our sex life pretty soon. Nothing shuts down
sexual interest faster than underlying anger or resentment between partners. The
heart connection between lovers is paramount. I still don’t feel a need to revisit our
relationship contract. I am still having fun and I feel good with been
emotionally unavailable while been able to show lots of affection and care to
her. I know at times she has wanted to revisit our relationship contract in
order to change it but now I am not so sure if she is content to leave it as we
agreed in the beginning. But if she does want to change it, I will invest my
time and energy in listening to her wishes and respect her need to express them
even if I find out they make me feel uncomfortable and see that she feels resentment
or anger about our relationship contract remaining the same and not changing. I must be careful not to be inauthentic and
make sure I don’t create a thin, tough, impermeable barrier of false wants
between me, Lubricica and my true self. I must also remember to ask Lubricia if she
would like to help me do an exercise. In it I would get her to relate her
feelings on a subject we don’t agree on (like living together) and then I would
repeat back, after each of her sentences, what she has said whilst thinking
about what she was saying and why. This would be a good way for me to step into someone else’s
shoes and build empathy. Even though we continue as lovers and
friends it would be good if Lubricia thought we already had an authentic relationship
which allows a space where both of us can feel there is room for each others
concerns and needs to be heard. Have I accidently chosen a good partner to do this with? I
think so, I think I have a partner with a similar psychological
background and viewpoint to me. Do you overthink? Do you over analyse everything? Be careful.
The more you try think your way to a solution, the more preoccupied, and
ironically, less efficient and approachable you may become. Are you an overthinker? Would you agree
strongly with most of the following statements? I often think about how alone I feel. I often think about my feelings of fatigue,
aches and pains. I often think about how hard it is to
concentrate. I often think about how passive and
unmotivated I feel. I often think “Why can’t I get going
today?” I often think about how sad or anxious I
feel. I often go over and over a recent
situation, wishing it had gone better. I often think about my shortcomings
failures, faults and mistakes. I often think, “Why can’t I handle things
better?” If not then you have developed excellent
strategies to combat overthinking. According to Susan Nolen Hoeksema, women
are more prone to the destructive thought processes of overthinking than men.
This may be because women are more emotional and unintentionally encourage each
other to dwell on their problems. How to stop overthinking. The less time we spend thinking about a
decision, the more likely we are to choose well! It is far better to pose the
question, then not think about it for several days or weeks, until the right
answer comes to your mind. Guess how long the average couple spend
together in a typical week if you take out work, sleep and TV/cinema. Two hours
and forty eight minutes. That is another reason why I want to work less every
week. Would you blame me? If a couple does not spend enough time alone
together, it will be impossible for them to build up the trust necessary to let
each other into their lives. At least when we are not together we have each
others diaries to encourage intimacy and trust. I don’t want to create an
environment of mistrust and that is why I often find it hard to say no to my
lover and friends when I want to be alone. I fear saying “No, not this
weekend”. I should use the ABC approach to offer them an alternative. A:
address their issue. B: Bridge (but). C: Communicate ( how about next weekend
instead). As for me and Lubricia I feel we are different in that we are a mix of blending and
self-affirming which is quite exciting for me. Most couples go through the initial
phase of ‘blending’ focussing on their similarities and then ‘self affirmation’
when they realise that they are actually individuals and need solitude.
That is what happened to Yaya I reckon, she wanted to be an individual again
rather than continue as my full time partner. From now on, whenever I spend time on my solitude and passions, I feel I should inform those closest to me of how I spent the time in order for
them to feel more included in these other parts of my life. I will share the buzz
of it rather than keep it separate and thus possibly undermining our relationship. The best way to deal with fear is to leave
your comfort zone and confront it. I may try keep a fear diary in order to put
this into practice and draw a pie chart that shows how I divide my time and
energy between relationship, work, friends and myself. Then I may draw one of
how I would like it to be. Scary! Sometimes, don’t you find, difficult
conversations go wrong. We often bring up an issue with the aim of getting our
point across but more importantly with the hope of getting our own way. I find
that I want to bring up the issue of not paying or paying late the gas and
electricity bill in our house. It irritates me. So I said to Drago who is always
a late payer, “ Drago, I am anxious to talk to you
about the bills because paying them on time means a lot to me. Have you paid
yet?” Great I kept my composure. I did not shout at him, I did not insult him
or accuse him of being twat and not pulling his own weight in the house. He
answered, “Eh, yeh mate I paid on Monday.” Shock, horror. My God. “Eh, great Drago can
you sign your receipt as proof and put it up on the noticeboard like the last
time.” “Yeh, no problem mate, I will do it right
now.” I feel embarrassed. Later on I notice his receipt is only for
60 pounds not 87. The bastard he said he paid everything. So, why could he not
say he had some left to pay. Never mind, at least it is a good start. Now for
Koko and the dreaded Taulant! Koko will be in denial so I will have to give
specific examples, from multiple sources to show why I am anxious. He always
tries to divert so I will have to say, “You are right, that is another important
thing for us to discuss, so let’s come to that in a minute. First though let’s
talk about when you are going to pay your share of the gas and electricity.” I hate dealing with difficult people, it is
so stressful but I want to confront my fear and that is why I choose to live in
a shared house. Taulant and Drago will probably stonewall
me so I will have to try and engage every day on house issues saying things
like, “I’d like you point of view on everyone
buying little things for the house in order to make it a better place to live
for everyone. Do you have a few moments to talk?” If they become aggressive and bite back, “I
can’t believe you are pressuring me….” I will reply, “I know it is so unfair
that I want to make this house feel like a home rather than just a bedsit that
has its own separate kitchen and bathroom.” If he continues being aggressive I
will just ask what outcome he wants from this issue being discussed. I hope I will not end up avoiding conflict
with my housemates. I want to be admired and liked by then but I worry that
getting into conflict will affect my status. But if I let the tension and anger
build up inside me it will easily lead to passive aggressive behaviour. So
instead I will aim for a tone of assertiveness. I will examine my feelings and
achieve clarity on where I stand before approaching any of them. I will
practice my responses. I will re-examine my image, as people pleasers tend not
to be trusted or respected as straight talkers who don’t let others take
advantage. I must choose the right place and time to be assertive. It’s Friday and I noticed Taulant has not
paid his electricity and gas at the end of February like he promised. I wanted
to practice my assertiveness and leave a polite message on his answerphone to
pay the bills today seeing as he has not done so at the end of February. More stress. I get up this morning after
late night to make Lubricia breakfast in the kitchen. Taulant is there so I ask
him politely “Excuse me Taulant but did you pay the
bills?” He starts a tantrum on me there and then
screaming into my face. “All I asked was if you had paid your
bills, there is absolutely no need to shout and scream at me and be
aggressive Taulant.” Screaming at me, “BUT HAVE YOU PAID
YOUR BILLS?” I have only paid my gas(£60) up to now and
he knows. I tried to pay the electricity yesterday but the cards were missing. But why is he being so righteous about it all now?
Why does he feel he has a right to scream and shout at me when I saw yesterday
he had not paid his bills? Koko comes running down. I am glad because
he is going to stop Taluant attacking me. But he just stops and stands there
and enjoys the attack like a lion tearing a gazelle to pieces. If I was not so
in shock I would feel so disappointed with him. He even takes Taulant side
about paying the bills when one feels like it. The screaming and shouting dies
down and then it is just the three of us babbling on about the cleaning, missing
food, bad TV reception and writing to the landlord about Franco disappearing.
Then I notice on the wall is Taulant’s receipts for paying the gas and
electricity. I am so embarrassed. I forgot to check the wall on the way into
kitchen before asking him. I thought it was early morning and I was half
asleep. But it was not early morning it was after twelve. It just felt like early
morning because I was out till 5pm last night. Shit that is why he did not
answer my question. He had paid in the last hour while I was still in bed and
cleverly used this secret fact to have a go at me. If he had answered, “Yes I
paid this morning” I would have just left it like that and gone up to my room. When
Koko goes back up to his room and closes his door I hear him laughing with
Costa about what he just saw. “Cheers Koko, I won’t forget that.” Lubricia sent me a wonderful supportive
text message in the afternoon saying how much she admired my assertive,
calmness and diligence in getting the bills paid. I needed this. Thank you. Despite feeling sick and in shock I am
proud I did not lose it or start insulting him. I am proud I stuck by my
principle and was assertive in trying to make sure everyone one paid the bills
this time. I treated everyone the same even though Taulant thinks he is the
only one I chase to get things done in the house. \don’t get me wrong I id want
to become aggressive back with him but I knew that is not the best way to get
revenge or achieve a better household harmony. In the evening, even though I
still felt he attacked me that morning, I knocked on his door and apologise
that I did not check the wall for his receipts before asking him again if he
had paid. This was so hard to do but it felt right. After all I thought, “NOTHING is worth more
than today.” Living and ethical lifestyle has never
been easy to me but how can I makes changes for the better? I could join a vegetable box scheme with
Lubricia and Stella and from the house. By changing my behaviour to factor in
more conscientious habits, I increase the chances of a happy and healthy
lifestyle. People no longer like the anonymity of mass production. What we
would much rather do is connect with our food and take back control and
responsibility with respect to what we eat. Experts have found that people in a
nursing home lived longer if they were given responsibility in their everyday
routines. So if we give ourselves the extra responsibility to eat
conscientiously we may just live longer. They say consuming 30% less calories
improves T-cell function and reduces the production of inflammatory compounds.
I must try and leave a third of my meals uneaten then. Gosh that will be hard
and probably insulting to anyone who cooks for me. Anyway, what I should do
more is eat only as nature intended. What I mean is, eat less process foods and
more fresh fruit, vegetables, fish and whole grains like Waitrose’s Nutrilaw
selenium enriched wholegrain bread. . I don’t feel I have a green personality
because I am not one to delay gratification and this is one of the most
important predictors of how successful people really are. They plan for the
long term and it has a positive effect on their finances. So, basically, I am
fucked. Still there are things I would like to do
before this poverty and failure set in. I would like to go on a Traidcraft holiday
that gives you the opportunity to see how Fairtrade works first hand.
Meanwhile, the next time I am in Asda I will compare the price of bananas and
buy fair trade bananas. Maybe later I will get fair trade tea and coffee. But
I must not move too quick. So how would I describe my writing
influences, you ask. Well as you may have guess I am more concerned with “what”
is put down rather than “how”. I guess that is only possible by thwarting my
family’s expectations of getting control of the “what”. I hope I never make the mistake of
confusing the real self with the person I think I want to be. It would only
lead to tears. But another question beckons. What is the real self? Eastern
theories say the self is an illusion and that being true to it actually
requires becoming less attached to it. I guess that is why I rarely take myself
too seriously and always question what I think I believe. I know the self is
not fixed but is often in flux. Sometimes when I have an abundance of
energy I challenge the comfort zone around my own set of beliefs and
assumptions. If they stand up to my objective scrutiny then I know I am nearer
to my true self. This extra day per weekend will give me more time and energy
to attempt this once again. To get to this authenticity I will have
to master:- I feel confused about myself more than I
would like. In addition my emotions do not always make sense and I probably do
a number of things without understanding why I do them. It is likely that I either actively attempt
to avoid negative thoughts about myself or I am overly self critical. It may be
helpful for me to strike more of a balance by understanding nobody is perfect. My behaviour typically expresses my own
needs and preferences rather than merely complying with others’ demands. I am reluctant to share information
verbally about myself. I tend to avoid disclosing information verbally about
myself as much as possible. I must try verbally sharing my concerns with the
people to who I feel close. Maybe one day soon I will have enough knowledge to
know how and why I behave a certain way in certain situations and then in an
instance have the confidence to communicate that knowledge to another soul. I
enjoy playing roles from time to time but I also know that I play roles
sometimes because I feel I am not good enough. I need to distinguish the authentic from
the real. Once I do, I will see the world with the truthful innocence of a
child. If I lie to myself and others that are close to me, I should not expect
to start the day ready to live it as if it were my last – which is what I
should be doing. I hope I never alienate my family or just
go through the motions of family gatherings just because convention demands it.
I don’t want to miss out on the satisfaction to be gained from supporting
others and being supported. I know I will be lost and very insecure if
I ever deal with my sense of inadequacy by falsely building myself up and with
desperate attention seeking. I feel one day soon I will say to myself that
even though I am just moderately successful, it is enough. As for work, holding a different set of
values for work and for my personal life has had terrible knock on effects for
my own well being. That is why I have now gone about changing it with a new
part time contract. Now that I have that maybe I can build a group of friends,
professionals and relatives who genuinely have my interests at heart so as I
can bounce ideas off them at any time in the future. I will make this project a
gradual process and build realistic goals to achieve them because I don’t want
to build dissatisfaction into this new plan. Meanwhile I should practice even more my
meditative exercises. I like the Tibetan Buddhists use of analytical
meditations, which involve contemplation subjects. They recommend I use ones
such as my mother’s love or my own death. First I should visualise on an object
that feels appropriate which is about a metre in front of me at eye level such
as a shining Buddha, blossoming flower or diamond. Then I should imagine my
symbol being filled with unconditional love and absolute acceptance by
imagining a time when I received such love and thus transfer it to my symbol.
Then I should, if I have the time, hold my awareness on this symbol for twenty
minutes. Next I should visualise the white light that contains this love
pouring into my head and trickling down my spine. As the white light gently
pours down, it spreads out in all directions. Another exercise they suggest is to imagine
the unconditional love a mother feels for her child and direct it towards myself
for five minutes. Then I should direct that love towards the people I love, one
by one, for five minutes. Then I should direct this love to the people I feel
neutral about for five minutes. Then I should direct it towards the people I
dislike for five minutes. Finally, I should imagine all those people and many
more, all the people in the world, standing around me and directing this love
towards them all. And finally, guess what? There are new trials going on
for a new contraceptive for men! It is a tiny silicon plug that blocks the tube
that sperm use to travel along in the body. Initial tests are extremely
promising. Bring it on! Over and out for now. Have a beautiful life and hey, hug
someone hard today! NOTHING
IS WORTH MORE THAN TODAY. I
HAVE MADE MY FIRST SKETCH IN AGES. It is great I want to do one every evening
until I have finished a book of sketches. They will all be of Lubricia. She is
beautiful and wonderful to sketch. Her lines are perfect to sketch. Her breasts
are amazing and her neck so feminine. She is like a goddess when she poses for
me. I noticed last night in one pose when she lay back off the edge of the bed
with her arms outstretched across the bed that the light from the window
covered her milky white body. In this moment her body turned into shiny creamy
ancient marble and she became an ancient Greek Goddess immortalised by the
stone of kings and queens. I was struck by this magical beauty. It took my
breath away. I
don’t know what else to write about this morning’s page. It is hard, especially
since I don’t have a hot cup of coffee in front of me to stimulate my thoughts
but yet, I have read recently that the cup of coffee in the morning does not
actually make a person more alert in the morning. It only returns a person to
the normal state of alertness of that person beside you in the office who does
not drink coffee i.e. The withdrawal systems experienced during the night, just
leaves one less alert than normal in the morning. I
am anxious today. I am supposed to deliver a document by the close of business
today but I think I will not be able to start on it until after lunch. Steve
keeps on reminding me of the hard deadline of this. But I am not looking
forward to telling him that I will fail. I need at least a day and a half to
complete it. So I have spent many worried hours thinking of how I am going to
break this him. I certainly do not like to make promises but when I do, I hate
when I have to tell someone that I have to break that promise. However,
I did make another sketch of Lubricia last night. I am proud of that one too.
It is great to make something pretty out of nothing but your time and energy.
Tomorrow is her birthday. She has not told me of anything she wants for her
birthday. Only a drink she says. Well that is not fair. I feel I have to
compete with her great present to Norway last year. The pressure is enormous.
Instead I will bring her out for a posh dinner and a show. Maybe on Friday if
she is free I will surprise with a secret trip to a sketching class in the Sussex’s Art Club. I should call them to confirm it is on. My
anxiety was unfounded. My list of things to do, apart from my document,
disappeared and the deadline Steve gave me came and passed without incident.
Stuart was not even there to review it even though I had finished it. He
decided to take the afternoon off to register the name of his new born baby.
Steve was just blowing smoke up my arse last week about the hard deadline it
seems. Now that Justin is back the pressure will be off me for a while for all
thing SAP related. However Emma is still putting pressure on Stuart to find a
permanent SAP tester. I do not know if it is really to replace me or replace
Justin. If it was Justin, they would also be trying to replace Mark and Bayo the
two other contractors on the team. Never
mind, it is Lubricia’s birthday today. Lucky girl! I want to spoil her and make
her feel special. But I still don’t know what she wants, what would make her go
wow this year. I looked back at my diaries and found nothing. I must look at
her diaries. Maybe she has talked about it more there. It is great it is like
looking into her mind but she is not here. My
fingers are itchy and I hope it is not the glucosamine condratin tablets doing
that. It says on the bottle to not take them if you are allergic to fish. I am
not but I am allergic to shell fish. So what should I do? It’s
Julia Birthday and I want to, at least, treat her to a posh meal and a show.
She means the world to me and I want her to know it. But first I want to tempt
her appetite with a text message. “Birthday
girl, to eat at 10.30 they need to know our order by 9.30 at the latest. So
text me back the number of your choice of mouth watering starter, main and
desert and I will let them know when you arrive. Choose
a Starter: 1.Roasted
butternut soup with homemade thyme and onion bread! 2.Honey
roasted pork belly and apple salad! 3.Smoked
haddock with beetroot relish salad! Choose
a Main: 1.Slow
roast Lamb shank with celeric carrot puree! 2.Salmon
and dill fishcakes with lemon butter sauce and salad! 3.Spinach
and goat tart with nutmeg potatoes! Choose
a Desert: 1Chocolate
tart with caramel sauce! 2.Vanilla
pancotta! 3.Compot
melody of cheese! She
can’t resist and chooses Smoked Haddock with beetroot salad, salmon and dill
fishcakes with lemon butter sauce and salad, Vanilla pancetta and a couple of
glasses of red wine to wash it down. To finish off the night we dance our
swinging socks off with Lisa and Niki, the two crazy kids who gate crashed our
table. I took her back to my house and with all of my magic and energy
satisfied her sexy hot body with my touch, my rabbit, my cock and my kiss! Happiness
is a choice you will have to make again today, or not! And walking into the
cold grey wind of the afternoon this thought changed my feeling of discomfort
into one of slight joy when I said to myself, “I
choose happiness today thank you very much”. Now
after Lubricia’s birthday weekend she has written a couple of glorious sweet
and thankful messages to me that make me feel good and appreciated and proud to
have invested my time and energy into making her feel a little special on this
occasion. I am not unhappy now, that is for sure. I
was anxious today about Steve and Stuart. I feel like attacking them tomorrow
about how they behave recently at work with me. They make me feel under
appreciated even though I think I feel I am doing a marvellous job. Deep down I
want them to notice without me telling them that I am talented and gifted and
good at what I do and that they would be lost without me. And it angers me that
they never say this. Stuart just says you have to multitask and Steve says you
have to complete the review in one day not four like you requested. They are
both liars. There was no urgency to complete it in one day. He just made it out
there was to railroad me into rushing it. As for Stuart who glorifies multi-tasking
staff. What a hypocrite. My last boss Pete did testing, managed the test server
environment, was the first point of contact for the business about how a
process worked, did one to ones and investigated new tools to improve the team
productivity. Stuart hasn’t tested anything since he started, in fact he hired
another tester to make up for that. He has not managed the server environment.
He has hired someone else to do that. He has not investigated much any new
tools. Richard did that and now Daniel is doing it. So, how dare he tell me I
have to multi-task more when he can’t even do it himself! Even what is left for
him to do, he is crap at like interviewing and administration. A novice
secretary straight out of school could manage when he has left on his plate
three times better than he can. But I can’t say this to him or his boss because
I don’t want to mitigate unnecessarily my new found four day week which will
become even easier now that Justin is back to cover those things that I can not
do. I
was angry once again last night about how Steve and Stuart treat me lately in
work but this morning my PDA phone woke me up with a reminder message,
“Happiwess, is a choice that you will make today, or not!” There and then I
said to myself. “I choose happiwess today”. That changed my mood immediately
and now I feel a lot less angry about going into work. As I say this I can see,
through the curtains of my bedroom window that the sun is beginning to shine. My
heart heaves a sign of joy. Lubricia
darling, as I took my shower this morning I was immediately cast back to when
we both kissed under the same hot torrents of water only three days ago. Mmmmm.
You moved your back and shoulders from side to side to savour every last drop
of hot water that massaged your satin skin. Have a wonderful week. I hope you
look up to enjoy the blue sky today and maybe find a way to connect in some
small way with your boss or anyone else in the workplace. I know connecting
with people is such a “real” joy for you. Oh
I wish I got to the end of this page so as I could get ready for work but I
have to do this morning page so I will have to keep on writing till I get
there. I will have to continue until I write sufficient meaningless rubbish or until
I find something to take over my soul and mind so much that I forget where I
am, who I am, why I am writing, even acknowledge that I am writing, something
so magical and all consuming that I become one with the idea, the thought, the
character, the spirit of what I write about. What could be so grand as to take
me over like that on a day like today, an ordinary day at the start of the
week, that seems so normal and unpredictable but yet could turn into something
so unpredictable and mystical as I allow my imagination to let go and fly off
into the other worlds that invisibly surround me? I
am happy with my life. I am really happy. I am really happy with my life as it
is now, even if it never gets better than this for the rest of my life. Why?
Because I choose it! I consciously at this very moment choose to accept what I
am now, where I am now and with whom I am with now. Accepting it and making the
conscious decision to tell myself, “Hey, yes you are happy, really happy and
want for very little else. Anything better than this is just a bonus”, is the
secret to making it a reality for any person. How many people often express
their joy at living but secretly find it impossible to say, “Hey I am really
happy with my life”? I suspect most people. Why? Because they forget the
fundamental action of making the decision to declare that they are happy and
are going to be happy for the rest of today. Yes, true happiness is not a
result of a feeling but, of a decision. Chelsea are into the
semi-finals after beating Spurs 2-1 at White Hart lane. They deserve it.
Everyone said they were going to lose. But they played like warrior kings and
triumphed. I updated my stock charts last night and did my shopping at Tesco
online. Tonight I will sketch lovely Lubricia again. Mmmm. Gorgeous. I don’t
know why I make my life so hard some times. In one moment I think I can not be
her live-in partner because I do not want to lose the solitude I enjoy 60% of
the week and the next moment, I am dreaming of living with both Yaya and
Lubricia at the same time for the rest of my life. How can I want two so
different things? If I were with Lubricia alone I would feel guilty 60% of the
time for wanting to be alone in my own little world 60% of the time. If I were
living with Yaya and Lubricia I would therefore feel even guiltier for wanting
to be in my own little world this 60% of the week. This would mean that they
would only be able to engage exclusively with me a maximum of 20% of the week.
What kind of life is that for them and for me? I don’t know sometimes I get
myself into a right mess with what I dream of. Oh
no, I have to fill another page and I am not even awake yet as I sit here in my
crimson velvet dressing gown. I had a shower but I still feel groggy. Now I
remember, I could not sleep last night. It must have been two o’ clock before I
finally fell off to sleep from exhaustion. What was occupying my thoughts? Many
things! One thing I remember was the question, “What would I miss if I did not
go to the Night of the Senses this year?” I could not think of anything in
particular so I started to compare the difference between last year and the
year before. The first time like the second time created as Lubricia says, a
complete loss of the sense of time. You truly float all night long lost in a
night of naughtiness. The night at the Vinylla club however, was not like that.
You were aware what time it was more or less. Maybe this was because there was
really only one area for everyone to hang out. At the night of the senses there
was a maze of rooms and cordoned off areas to explored and be explored! I went
on the web site to look up more memories of the event and I was shocked and
excited to find a photo of me and Lubricia on the site from last year’s event.
We look great in our whites. Lubricia is in a white furry cat outfit and I am
the horny vet doctor looking to examine her. The photos of the white wall of
latex make my whole body quiver with the same excitement I felt when Lubricia
rubbed her body up against it and into the probing hands of strangers on the
other side. Yes the latex wall is an experience I would miss if I never went
again. If I went again I would suggest to Lubricia that we invite another
couple there to exclusively caress us in one of the chill out areas on a
plethora of big soft cushions. What
movies do I want to see before I die? Well
at least the following: I really
want to get Taulant to act as a member of a team in the house instead of always
acting like the lone cowboy. There is no “I” in team and he doesn’t give you
the impression that he knows that. However, more importantly I don’t want to
feel anger in me every time I think about his lying and his intransigence. I
want to use Lubricia’s technique where I would stand back after feeling the
initial emotion and ask myself, “What other emotion could I substitute it with
that still feels real to me?” Just thinking of it now, it could be
gratefulness. Yes gratefulness, because he gave me 50 of his movies to copy on
to my laptop. I have enjoyed many of them on a cold dark winter night sitting
in my bed with the wireless Bluetooth headphones on me. If it wasn’t for this
generosity and his presence in our village I would not have ever had the luck
to have so many movies to choose from on my laptop. So thank you Taulant, so so
much for your generosity in this matter. Oh what
joy! This Sunday morning we all, apart from lazy Drago, spent two and half
hours claning the downstairs of the house. It looks great. Taulant made a soapy
swimming pool out of the kitchen but he was great. Koko and I had a cushion
fight and it was great fun. I bought all the boys cold beers and Stella a cold
coke. I am so happy. The house feels like a home. The village feels like it
has pride again. Life is so good. Last night
I watched on my laptop, “The Exorcism of Emily Rose”. It was so scary that I
found it hard to go to sleep. I listened to my hypnotic tape that lulls you
into a deep relaxed stated. But the deeper I went into this state the more
anxious and hypersensitive I felt to opening up a gateway to the demons from
the dark side through which they could enter my head and enter my bedroom. I
could hear things moving around in my room and inside my half open closet. I
jumped up and ran over to it to find nothing out of the ordinary going on. Am I an open book? That
is not for me to answer. It is for those closest to me to answer? But would
they take into account my online diaries when making their judgement? I fear
not. Anyway let me tell you that even though I value my privacy, I often enjoy
telling my friends personal stories and I feel I am generally the same person
from one situation to another. I
rather prefer to hear what others have to say than talk about myself. However
even though I do feel uncomfortable speaking about my problems I have no
problem with people reading about them in my diaries. So my revealing the
sensitive side of me is not the issue it is verbally speaking about sensitive
issues that is. But if someone refuses to or doesn’t bother to read my diaries
then the complete person I am would never be the person they only see and hear.
I do feel it is important to share what I know about myself with others but not
verbally. They should intuit who I really am. After all what is intuition?
Intuition is the result of our brain constantly working – sifting dozens, even
hundreds of pieces of evidence from our daily life in order to come up with a
set of rules to make an informed decision. If they can’t do that then they
should read about who I am or just get lost and stop pestering me to talk about
who I am. Hey
I have not cried for quite some time. At the movies I often feel a tear well up
in my eye. And afterwards I often makes me feel quite good rather than sad.
That may be because there is more protein in an emotional tear than a tear
caused by cutting an onion. Maybe I feel good after emotional tears because
these tears flux out toxic substances that have build up as a by-product of
distress or maybe because people sometimes comfort me after they see me shed a
tear. On
a happier note did you know that I like telling jokes? I wish I could tell
jokes better. How can I tell a joke better? Perhaps using surprise at the end
of each joke in a set of three linking jokes. I could use call back and mention
the character in the previous joke while laughing at the joke. Our urge to
laugh is triggered by the sound of laughter, so not only will I be priming my
audience when I laugh at the joke, but I will also be signalling that it’s OK
for them to do the same thing. Back
to more serious matters. I want to be more assertive in the house and at work
and win people around to my idea when need be. How can I do this? I could Oh,
I have not written anything for a week. Actually it was last Friday. So, thanks
now to my Fridays off, my writing output will increase or at least, not die.
Yes it was a good move to go for a four day week. I might keep on doing it till
they get me sacked. In June they review the situation. If they ask me to return
to a five day week I will have to decline. I can not go back to a five day
week. When would I ever find a company again who pays so well and gives me a
four day week? I may offer to work for them for two extra hours every day. This
way they will get their 35 hours a week out of me. Anyway for now, it is great.
I feel like I am going on a petite holiday at the end of every week. Oh
oh! I must book a flight to Ireland for my week with my family in June. I don’t
want to invite Lubricia on this holiday as I feel I would rather spend some
quality time with my brothers than with her. I have just heard on the news that
half of couples these days like to go on a holiday without their partners in
order to spend some quality time alone or least without them. I think I like
the sound of that. The spirit would be refreshed and the hunger even greater to
get back to one’s partner feeling revived and stronger. Where would I like to
go alone on holiday for two months then? I don’t know maybe Madrid, maybe
Guadalajara Mexico again, maybe Finca Ixobel in Guatemala again, maybe a
sketching holiday in Italy, maybe a dancing holiday in Cuba or maybe a diving
course in Dahab in Egypt. Oooh, all this sounds good, it sounds very good. It
would be great to go away alone for two months every year like Lubricia did
last year. Well done, you have set the standard Lubricia. I like your style. I wonder
if Lubricia has ever faked her orgasm with me. Of course not! I wonder if any
lover or girlfriend has ever faked her orgasm with me. Of course not! Hmmmmm! However, I
do know that I have been with girls whose confidence was often at an all time
low. So they were in a perfect state of mind to desire to make me happy while
not confident enough to express their inability to have an orgasm. So they
could have faked their orgasm from time to time. Do they know that feeling
confident enough not to fake it would lead to a more fulfilling sexual future
for them? When they faked, they relinquished an opportunity to teach me about
their sexual needs and an opportunity to take responsibility for their own
pleasure. Stewart
and I helped out a traumatised girl last week. Stewart suggested we bring her
back to my house to calm her down and help her stop crying. I was reluctant at
first but then I thought this girl Lisa may actually need help so I said yes.
After a couple of cups of coffee and a bouncing session on my trampoline she
regained her composure and left. But she reminded me of Camilla. She too was
often manic but you knew never really that out of control. Manic depressives
who do not take medication to balance their moods often do not do so because
they enjoy their manic moods of anger, sadness and happiness. Just like Stephen
Fry says, “I rely on my manic moods to give my life a sense of adventure.”
Unfortunately all family loved ones and colleagues don’t get a choice and have
to put up with it! And that is why I now try to stay well clear of getting
involved with this type of female. When Camilla left my life I was glad she
left. I wonder
about Lubricia and her behaviour with me and her past lovers. Does she or has
she ever felt that she must please her partner all the time or else she will
feel she doesn’t deserve to be loved. I know she said in her diaries that she
feels she has to work hard in order to get what she wants in a relationship. I
felt like I was Lubricia with Camilla. I felt no matter what I did it was never
enough. I felt she was in such a bad way because of my lack of ability to make
her feel happy and loved. Therefore I did not deserve to be loved. Only by
making her feel loved did I feel I deserved to be loved. And so I kept trying
and trying and trying until I lost sense of who I was originally before I met
her. What a waste of time and energy. That is why if Lubricia feels like this
with me then she should, straight away, get rid of me from her life. It is a sure
recipe for getting more and more lost in life and leads only to regret and
sadness. From now
on if I embrace a negative opinion about myself like this I know what to do
differently. Not all negative thoughts about myself are true so I will consider
ways in which the thought can be challenged and ask myself, What
thoughts do I feel at the moment that I feel are true? “DEPRESSION IS ALL ABOUT LOSS” I reckon this truism is damn close to the mark. For me, my
biggest awareness of being depressed was when, at the same time, I felt I had
lost Yaya, lost my belief in finding a good IT job and felt I had finally lost
my belief that I could earn an annual income on the stock market. Did you know that serotonin deficiency contributes towards
negative, obsessive, worried, irritable, and sleepless patterns of behaviour
and that serotonin reserves are depleted by stimulants such as caffeine and
artificial sweeteners. To be more mentally healthy and prevent a relapse into
another spell of depression I should ensure that I eat more nuts, seeds,
bananas and pumpkin (yes pumpkin) to promote more of this serotonin
production in my body. When I do eat I try not to over eat. Food is a great
pleasure in my life and I feel, not an activity I should compromise. It is
simply not in my nature to pause after every bite and contemplate whether I am
now full or not. But a new study has shown that eating slowly rather than
bolting it down will cause me to eat less. But I will try to do this. From now
on I will also try to:- Apart from taking on this boring healthy diet I guess in
order to feel good internally I should also: Are there any difficulties from my childhood that I have
not faced up to yet which I should have? There are two good reasons why I might not have faced up to
them by now at the ripe old age of forty. First, the pain that was involved,
though buried and forgotten, might still be very raw. Second, I may don’t want
to risk becoming resentful of my parents or brothers for the pain that might
arise. I missed
April Fool’s day yesterday. It was an opportunity to play a great practical
joke on the boys in the pub. Never mind, next year! Yesterday I realised I was
a lucky person, not an unlucky person. There are lucky people in the world and
unlucky people. I am one of the lucky ones. Why? Because, for any person to be
lucky they first have to feel lucky and I feel lucky! I feel lucky so lucky, to
have Lubricia as part of my life. I feel so lucky that she has been part of my
life for the last two years and still is part of my life now. I don’t think I
have done anything to deserve this luck. So I must be just lucky. Yes folks, I
am officially one of those lucky bastards who has great things come into their
lives. I am going
to start a Pilates course after Easter guys. Yes Pilates. What is it? I am not
sure. It involves building up your core strength thus making all back problems
disappear. I need this as my lower back and now, after the tennis yesterday, my
middle back are in constant aching pain. And that is not good. I want to try
something new to try and relieve it and I have a hunch that Pilates is the way
forward with this. Meanwhile I am going to perform sun salutations, the warm up
exercise before a Yoga session. How do I do that? It starts off with the
mountain pose, goes through the dog position, the cobra and finishes on the
mountain pose again. At each stage I should inhale or exhale to get the maximum
benefit. You do it on both legs and the hands in the cobra position should be
under the shoulders and the arms slightly bent. My leg is
getting stronger but my patella tendonitis is still inflamed. All I can do is
strengthen the knee joint and to do that I ought to buy from Victoria Health
the Advanced Joint Support pack of tablets by Lifetime Vitamins for £29.95
and take them three times a day. Only four
more days to having ten days off from work! Now that makes me excited today. I
like work but I love holidays. I am excited not knowing where Lubricia and I
will end up for some of those ten days. We could be in France, a spa or
somewhere hot and exotic. All these are possible! Every day
is a new day to start all over again. That is the beauty of waking up in the
morning remembering very little from yesterday, from last week or from last
year. Of course
what I do remember is that I had a meeting to review a document of mine with my
boss Stuart. In it I got a bit vociferous and called him a “finicky bastard”
for criticizing my work and for asking me to make so many changes to it. I lost
control. I don’t want him to now hold that against me and thus jeopardize my sweet
deal of four days a week and getting in at 9.30 in the morning every day. But
his personality and methods wind me up and I could not bite my lip. “The more
we get of what we want the better we behave.” This is one saying that really is
“not” true. I should be grateful to him for my new working hours but find
myself more repulsed by other things that he does. I want to show more patience
with him and more gratitude for my new working hours without fawning and
ingenuous behaviour. The same can not be said of Steve. I find him more and
more ingenuous and sneaky. I want to question every thing he says. But now he
has moved into his house in Lancing I think I should be more patient with him
too in order to see if he starts to arrive at work at nine thirty too. That is
the standard I have set for him to follow. Let’s see if he does. And those
folks are the thoughts that prevented from sleeping last night. It took me two
hours of tossing and turning to get to sleep. Now I feel groggy but happy it is
only three days to been free again. I don’t
know if I now want to drive through France. Because of my work I am moving all
the time. When I am off I want to stay still as much as possible. But Lubricia
wants to do something, anything, to get away. So I will go along with her ideas
hoping I don’t regret not staying put in Brighton. Initially I was hot on the
idea of going away, but now I am not so sure. Lubricia
lies here beside me in my bed. Her right leg is wrapped around my left foot.
The warmth of her leg comforts me. Guess
what? I dreamed last night of stealing three million pounds from my company. It
would be paid into my foreign bank account instead of the account of our
insurance company. They would not miss it as they ask the bank to pay nine
hundred million pounds every year to various other companies. They pretend to
be a charity but often I do not see too much charity in the way the business is
run. The employees are treated like commodities to be disposed of at will. Last
week I got an email saying that from immediate effect two current employees in
IT now no longer work at the company. Were they fired, did they quit? What kind
of message is that sending out to those that want to work for a supposed
charity? Why could the IT manager not wish them the best and thank them for all
they have done for the company up to now? No, he has to send a vindictive
spiteful message informing everybody of his power and his wrath. I don’t feel
one bit guilty that I persuaded them to give me a four day week and I will ask
for a three day week next time it comes up for review and see how they like
those bananas. My
back is hurting me. I do not know if Lubricia sharing my bed for the last four
nights in a row has caused it or has prevented it from going away. I feel like
I am sleeping in a cot, a single bed when I am used to spreading out in my own
bed every night. I sleep but I don’t think I get a complete night’s sleep like
when I sleep on my own. I don’t have the heart to tell Lubricia I selfishly
want the bed to myself when she asks if she can stay. After all, my sore back
is not her problem and I would still have it to some degree if she was not here
beside me. I would like the next two days to myself and the next two nights to
myself in the bed. This way I may feel more rejuvenated to spend Thursday with
her at Ashdown Forrest hotel where we are going to pamper ourselves. I will
tell her that today. Let me ask
myself, am I truly happy with my sex life? Yes I am. Would more experimental
sex with other couples actually leave me feeling inadequate, unattractive and
dissatisfied with my own sex life? No I don’t think so. I wonder what Lubricia
really thinks these days about experimental sex? I like novelty in my sex life.
I feel eroticism thrives on novelty. I feel eroticism thrives on mystery and
even risk too. Novelty encourages two people to create a plot and build
anticipation into an evening. For me sexuality can often be just about pleasure
but for Lubricia I feel it is more often about a subtle combination of love,
trust, desire, passion and of course “le pleasure”. Or am I just stereotyping
her? Sometimes I feel she really likes challenging society’s view of women’s
sexuality being passive and defined in terms of men’s needs and male fantasy. I
sometimes feel she also uses our adventures in experimental sex to create an
even more honest dialogue with me whilst getting to know herself physically and
emotionally. I guess I
like an experimental sex life as it means not getting comfortable with routine.
Routine creates a comfort zone. Staying in this comfort zone can become
habitual and avoiding all things that could upset this comfort zone, might
create a comfort trap that would block innovation and change in myself. However
I would not like to do experimental sex every day or every week. Once a month
would be enough for me and besides, these days I sometimes like a routine
lifestyle. A routine lifestyle
allows me to think and it allows me to be less anxious. However, I do want to
have the ability to break out of this routine from time to time. What things
could I do to affect this. I could I guess continue to: I must
learn to value myself more. Sometimes I feel I am a geisha girl to Lubricia and
she to me. Neither of us wants to disappoint the other or leave the other
feeling insecure. I want to stoke her self esteem so that at the end of an
encounter she will turn to me and say, “You’re fascinating Gary.” Does that
make both of us “approval addicts”? Do many of our activities become about
winning the other’s praise? If affirmation is all we seek from each other we
must lose our right to self assertion and accept that we have pawned our
identities and personalities in its name. We should value ourselves more.
Happiness, after all, is appreciating our own qualities and realizing we are a
valuable human being. Is my
self-esteem contingent on achieving specific goals? No! My feelings of self
worth are not particularly affected by everyday events. I may have a great
belief in my own worth or a sense that I am not worth much, but my sense of
myself is at least consistent. Positive events do not cause big increases in my
feelings of worth and negative events do not cause big decreases. This does not
necessarily mean that I have healthy self esteem, only that my self esteem
involves more possessing positive feelings of self worth that are not dependant
on what happens to me i.e. a success or failure, or what someone else thinks of
me today. I often
find myself suffering from false modesty too. But where does false modesty end
and low self esteem begin? I don’t know. I know I am good at some things, but
find it hard to admit this to others and even to myself. I feel my insincere
modesty is recognised by some people. They can tell that my modesty is artificial
and, as a result, they might not like me. When I do something good I often say
I was just lucky. I say this so that they don’t feel bad if they did it less
well than me. I want them to still like me rather than feel less able or
humiliated by me. As you can see I often think that the opposite of self
deprecation is arrogance. Is this true or is the opposite of self deprecation,
self belief? In order to change this I must recognise that those value themselves
aren’t vocally self critical but rather feel they neither have to talk up their
achievements. I must stop the programming within myself to make other people
feel better about themselves by putting myself down. Raising my self esteem
will, I hope, not turn me into a strutting monster. The aim will be to think,
“I am OK”, and communicate that to others. What else
do you not know about me? Did you know that, What does
this say about me? Does it say that I don’t think it is up to me to prove my
self worth but up to others to see it? That I don’t like to attract attention
to myself? That I prefer to see whether others will come to me without me having
to make the least effort? That I end up holding grudges because, ‘they weren’t
nice enough to say how much they like me’. Well then
if so, I best get over it and get on with life and not depend on just others to
draw out my best qualities. I would
like one day to become a perfume aficionado and take advantage of the free samples
widely available in department stores. Did you know that women feel more
comfortable wearing a lighter scent with fresh floral notes in summer and that
in order to make a scent last longer it is best to wear an ‘eau de parfum’
rather than an ‘eau de toilette’. But
finally let me just say on the subject of soul mates, I don’t actually think
there is one person for you. I think there are many people for you, and that is
the way I would like to keep it for me. What a
week! I could have ended up in Egypt for my holiday but the weather was so good
from the start that my Easter week was spent in sunny Brighton. This time last
year there was inches of ice in Turnbridge Wells. This year it is a balmy 25
degrees on the beach. The highlight was my twenty four hours in Ashford Park
Forest on Thursday with Lubricia. It was just magical. From the very start to
the very end it was perfect. On Thursday we went for stroll hand in hand around
the forest. We played table tennis in the basement of the country spa. What a
surprise! Lubricia is a fine player. She even had a good attempt at the indoor golf
driving range. Exercise suits her. Her body is so well honed it just responds
to the invitation to use it and stretch it. Once her body is suitably warmed up
Lubricia goes for an hour long massage and I go for nine holds of golf. The
golf was enjoyable despite not having a putter or a driver. But the course was
magical. To walk around it on my own in the sunshine made my heart smile. I sat
down on the benches where I could watch the baby deer graze on the edge of the
forest and to take in all that nature was offering me. After we were both spiritually
and physically satisfied we retired to our “drawing room” for tea and cakes. We
were in sofa heaven and sat on the softest most comfyest of green sofas.
Internally my body was satisfied and now it was time to receive, on the big
double bed, a long full body delicious massage from Lubricia. I showed her a new
way to massage my cock and with every powerful stroke my whole body arched in ecstasy.
It was time for dinner. We feasted on mozzarella and red pepper salad, salmon,
lemon sorbets, roast duck, the finest of locally grown rump of lamb, rosemary
mash potatoes, Vina Mora Rioja Crianza and finished off with coffee once more in,
the “drawing room”. What else was left to do but spend last three hours of the
day lying in a jucuzzi bath in our on-suite with a final glass of our Rioja
Crianza. Heaven just heaven! I crawl out of their and put on my two ton white
fluffy dressing gown that wraps up around my ears. I nearly collapsed onto the
bathroom floor from the weight of it but I managed to drag myself to the
armchair outside and fall into it. When Lubricia comes out in her huge white
bath robe I take her by the hand into the bedroom. As she stands there at the
end of the bed I de-robe her one shoulder at a time. Then I push her back onto
the bed and spread her legs wide apart and dine on her delicious clitoris and pull
her pussy lips wide apart. I flip her over onto her fours and kiss, bite and
lick her ass while I slide my fingers in and out of her pussy. My cock wants a
piece of her lovely tight ass and he slides up inside her pussy thrusting
slowly her body up along the bed. After he gets his pleasure I flip her over
again to finish her off, to the sounds of classical music coming from the
radio, with my lips and tongue. We fall off to sleep listening to the music and
are woken up in the morning with the sound of knocking on our hotel room door.
Breakfast in bed! Love it! Nice one. There is no need for plates with our
croissants and toast. We just spread out the white cotton napkins over our laps
and place them on it. Before we leave this heavenly place we go for one last
walk and end up in, “ the secret garden”. If it were not for the grass cutting machine
it would have been the most glorious of peaceful and meditative sanctuaries in
the morning sunshine. But nevertheless, it was the most wonderful way to say
goodbye to this magical heavenly place. On the way
back in the car, as we go over the downs in the hot glorious sunshine, I reach
across the front seats to caress Lubricia’s neck. After a while I can’t resist
venturing further south to her breast and reach underneath her white cotton top
to caress her right nipple, ever so gently. She bravely maintains her
concentration driving while the waves of pleasure sweep over her body in
spasms. My arm eventually gets tired and after lowering it to rest it, Lubricia
reaches over to grab my cock with her right hand. However my jeans are still on.
So she has to stroke it through the material. She uses the power grip and the
power pull I taught her the night before. Quickly it gets rock hard. With each
pull my whole body heaves with pleasure. I feel helpless in her grip. She
slowly repeats this power stroke all the way down to Woodingdean. She even
manages with her left hand to maneuver the car at the traffic lights where she
has to turn right. As the car swings around to the right her power stroke
along my cock is even more intense because of the centrifugal forces in action.
I almost come in my pants. But the fact is the intense pleasure coupled with
the hot sunshine streaming in through the sunroof leaves me speechless, in
heaven and unperturbed by any passing motorist who wants to have a peep at what
we are doing to each other. What a wonderful end to our twenty four hours in
heaven. I am
angry. I am pissed off. I am angry with Lubricia. She pleaded with me to get
into her bed this morning and now in the evening when I text her an invite to
join me for a trip to the cinema I suddenly find that she is actually out of
the country visiting a friend in Belgium. I never knew she planned this escape.
The indignation I feel due to her actions of secrecy is enormous. Now I know
the only reason she invited me over for a sexy fun meal on Friday was because
she was secretly planning on being out of the country on Saturday and Sunday.
She could not tell me this in her invitation. Oh no. It had to be a secret. She
could not tell me when I arrived at her house or during the five hours of
conversation last night. Oh no. Why should she! At one point in the night she had
the cheek to complain to me about not being able to tell her ex boyfriend that
she wanted to go out and have a coffee with a friend of hers during her
relationship with him. She hated the secrecy of it all with him. She wanted so
much to tell him but she felt he restricted her and made her behave secretly.
She said it was all his fault that she had to be secret about these coffee
meetings with her friend. Because she never could tell him that she wanted to
see her friend she felt the relationship had to end. Here was the perfect place
she could have freely mentioned she was slipping out of the country to meet
another friend of hers this weekend. But no! Oh no! It slipped her mind all
night to mention it. She says, “it never came up in conversation to tell me her
about her trip abroad to a friend”. The hypocrisy! There I was, as I went to
her house this morning, feeling guilty about not staying in her bed all night
because of my painful shoulder. She could have said, “it is OK handsome that
you want to spend a peaceful night in your own bed, I am going abroad tomorrow
anyway and I could do with a good night’s sleep too.” When I was once again in
her bed in the morning I wished her a happy sunny day. She could have said
then, “Oh no, I won’t be in Brighton much of today to enjoy the sunshine, I am actually
going to visit a friend abroad today and tomorrow.’ The damn secrecy of it all!
I hate it. I feel used and abused even though I had a very nice sexy time with
her. Her genuine invitation to dinner last night however, now seems to me premeditated,
soiled, tarnished and dirty. If that is the level of non-openness she wants in
a relation then fine. That is the way it is going to be from now on. She could
have told me openly that she needs in this relation the ability to leave the
country on holiday without having to tell me the night before when she invites me
into her bed. And this is not the first time she has left the country after
planning a nice time with me beforehand. Oh no! She planned a trip to Germany last year like this too I seem to remember. It is good
to get this off my chest. Even though I feel used and abused by her action I
feel a lot better now after writing about it. I don’t
mind I guess. In fact, I could quite enjoy this level of secrecy in our open
relationship. She has repeatedly set the standard now hasn’t she! I will act in
the same fashion from now on and enjoy it. This is her rule. It makes her
happy. I will live by it without judging her from now. This also means
I could go to Allen in Madrid one of these days and not feel guilty one bit
whether I tell or don’t tell Lubricia. That means I could, without mentioning one
bit of information about any trip abroad, invite her over to my place for a fun
sexy time the night before as well. Great! I like this freedom she is offering
me. How lucky is that. Yes I am a lucky person to have such an open lover and
friend in Lubricia. Who else could I go and visit secretly abroad?
|
He stays there waiting, waiting for
something. Then I realise, he is waiting for Jiny, the ex girlfriend who dumped
him. Now I am worried. I can't just continue on to the Polar Bar if he is
stalking her. What if he planning on attacking her when she is alone walking
down the alleyway to her flat on the seafront? I could not live with myself if
that happened tonight. I want to be proactive. I have always believed that is
better to act to save someone rather than ignore them in a possible dangerous
situation. I must act on this belief. I stop at the pizza shop and lean against
the wall. I train my eyes on Jason who is standing a hundred meters away in the
dark of the night on the corner. He still has the mobile held to his ear.
Doesn't he know it looks so suspicious? I see Jiny on the other side of the
street stagger along with her friend. At least she is with someone so I am not
so worried that he will do anything. They both turn down to the sea at the next
street. OK that's good, she is not going to go home tonight by the dark alley
in front of my house where one could be easily attacked. However, I want to be
sure that Jason is not up to something bad. So I wait by the wall a bit longer.
He peaks into my sight every now and again confirming that he is still there.
Why is he still there if Jiny has gone down to the seafront? Then I see her
coming back up around the corner again but this time she is alone. Doesn't she
know Jason is following her? Oh my God, she is going to go home down my alley.
Why would she do that if she has already taken the road down the seafront?
Surely it is quicker to go home that way. Why take the risk of going the most
dangerous route when she has an ex boyfriend who is still hung up on her? I
dare not leave now so I concentrate even more the distant figure of Jason on
the corner. If he begins to follow her I will call the police and follow him.
But he stays put. I think he knows I am watching him so he dares not make a
move. He steps out from his place to look down the street in my direction. It
can only mean that he knows that I know what he is up to. He knows I know he
knows that I am watching him and Jiny. I wait another ten minutes so as Jiny
has time to stagger home alone. Then I continue on to the Polar Bar.
I was
so sure that I was going to make money on this stock shorting it. I thought I
could manually limit my losses but I could not. Now instead of been six
thousand up like I was last week I am six thousand down and out of the market.
It hurts but not as much as it should. One reason is because I don't want to be
addicted to the drama of losing;
I want to be addicted to the drama of winning.
So when I discovered yesterday that my claim for injuries against Southern Rail
in January 2003 had been successful I celebrated the success.
I let it affect
me more. In a month from now I will get a cheque for six thousand pound which
is twelve thousand dollars. So really, I am up six thousand dollars this week.
I am up three thousand pounds. That is something to celebrate and tomorrow I
will, big time. 
I dare not give her the ticket as a present. It would feel like I was forcing her to attend something that only I was
interested in attending. Without hesitation she gives me the cash for
her ticket, the accommodation and even some cash to buy us some drinks later on. Wow she amazes me!
Strolling across Vauxhall Bridge, I find, is the most beautiful way to start this adventure.
The lights of the Thames sparkle like film stars on Hollywood Boulevard.
It seems as if they
want to suggest that you should wear as little clothing as possible in the
tightest of spaces this evening among the most numerous of persons possible. We
meet another couple trying to get their flimsy sexy gear on. I don't know where
to place my rucksack to open it. It takes up thirty per cent of the changing
area. Rachel and Phil are they names of the couple. They are friendly. I try to
encourage conversation that might lead to something naughty between the four of
us later. But I am sweating profusely as I search in vain for my complete
outfit. I am feeling hot, nervous, confused, and vulnerable. Lubricia is
looking stunning and sexy in her fluffy white knickers her fluffy laced see
through top that reveal a glimmer of nipple and breast. Her cream and white
high heel shoes are the piece de resistance that sets her pussycat outfit off.
Finally to complete the image she puts on her black velvet pussycat mask that
even has some sexy whiskers. She is gloriously white but not so innocent.
Yesterday she had so much fun finding the shoes. Two old ladies helped her
choose them. She is worried that her ankle will be cut to shreds tonight from
daring to wear new shoes. But she does not care because they look great.
Lubricia found the see-through top and mask in the gay charity shop at the end
of St. James's street. As she looks stunning I find myself panicking because I
cannot find my things. NO boxer shorts, no stethoscope. There goes my sexy
medical image. Instead I feel like a naked pervert in a white coat who has
escaped from the lunatic asylum in the middle of the night. But never mind Phil
and Rachel share their can of Carlsberg with us and they seem keen to meet up
with us later on. 
Shyness is my enemy in the presence
of immense beauty. I am trying to overcome it by telling myself that I should
do what every other person is not doing i.e. chatting up, befriending and
triggering her sexual attraction for me. It scares me but excites me to attempt
this.
It is a form of suffering to put one through but it would be more of a
suffering to know that I will be tongue tied every time I meet an immensely
beautiful women. The fact that I can now engage someone like that in a couple
of minutes of chit chat is a surprise to me. I must continue this journey to
see how good I get. At least it will help me overcome what shyness I have left
in this world. 
We have to suddenly stop a couple of times
when she sees a few figures wander by in the woods. On these occasions we just
adopt a lover's embrace and bury our faces into each others necks. I expect on
each occasion for Lubricia to say she wants to stop but she doesn't. She wants
more of this luscious lascivious carry on. She fucks me slow and hard and
long. I can see white discharge flowing out of her pussy as her labia lips
suck my cock dry. I explode and let off a primitive animal cry out into the
woods to let all other animals in these parts know that, I am king here! 
The journey feels so smooth and so fast just like a stone that skims
very low across a lake. In Ryde we have only three minutes to catch the bus to
Robin Hood National Park in the middle of the island. This is where we are told
that the festival is. We are not expecting to get in. We have no tickets and we
have no tent. We just want to enjoy the day on the island and be back in
Brighton before nine in the evening. Just in case there are tickets for sale I
run across into the amusements arcade to take out a hundred pounds from the cash
machine with my bank card. It only gives me fifty and a receipt saying that the
machine is now broken. Sitting on the top level of the red bus we wind our way
into the center of the island. There are three checkpoints for tickets along a
series of routes created by metal barriers. There are still tickets for sale.
Brilliant! We feel so lucky. We go to the ticket office and ask to buy two
tickets with our bank cards. They tell us we can only buy tickets with cash.
But we only have fifty pounds and two tickets are going to cost us ninety
pounds.
The festival now feels so close and yet so far away. We are told to go
to the pub around the corner and get some cashback from there. Great idea!
However the pub is all barricaded off and we are told that it is only for the
use of the festival staff. A steward tells us to try the shop in the car park
to the left. As we wander down the cark park to the left I realise we were
wander pass all the security staff who where check for the armbands that meant
that the person had bought a ticket. I guide Lubricia towards the final gate
that seems to be not cordoned off from the car park side. I wander in hoping
Lubricia is following me. There is only one girl acting as steward and people
with arms bands are passing by her unnoticed. Hey there is a chance here. As we
go in side by side I pass in front of the steward so that she does not know
Lubricia's does not wear a wristband. It works she does not notice. But she
notices me acting nervously and asks me for my armband. I stop to chat to her
so as Lubricia as time to keep walking and recognise that I am covering for
her. But she stops. I pretend that I must have lost my armband and that I want
to go back out to the car park to look for it. As I get outside the front door
I hope Lubricia does not follow me. She doesn't. Great she is in, I am so
excited. I try to phone her but the lines are dead. I leave a message.
"Well done you cheeky monkey. Try and get to a cash machine inside and I
will wait here at the front door for you so as we can then go and buy our
tickets. They are making it so hard for us to buy tickets but we are not going
to let that stop us. A group is sitting on the ground beside me as a friend of
theirs comes running up to say "I can get us tickets for a twenty pound
donation each, so give me your twenty pounds." It must be a charity who is
giving them away. So I ask the guy beside me, “Can I give you twenty pounds as
well to get me a ticket?” Cockily he replies, "No way mate, we have been
waiting two hours here to get these tickets." As he says this Lubricia
comes wandering back out through the front doors with a big smile on her face
and whispers to me. "Gary, there is no one on the door now checking for
wristbands; we can both go back in". Brilliant! I pass a cheeky smile to
the guy who would not help me buy a ticket and wander back in with Lubricia. As we
wander down through winding garden paths Lubricia is sure we are going to be
stopped any minute. I know that we won't. I know we have been the best festival
security there is, thanks to some excellent team work, a lot of luck and a very
intransient unhelpful number of people who had tickets but did not want to sell
them to us.
High up there is someone waiting fro us. We
perch like two birds on a tree looking out over the festival grounds. I am a
bird, I am Tarzan, and I want to swing from tree to tree. SO climbing a little
higher up my rope in order to get a footing on the branch I stop to steady
myself and with all of my might I push out from the branch. I swing far .out
across the tree tops and then come swinging back in over the branch I was
sitting on and out across the other side of this great oak tree. I am flying. I
am floating. I'm singing. It's great. Weeeeeeeeee. Yeee haww. Going down the
rope to the ground is great fun. I feel like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible.
Fear comes over me at what they might think of my answer and especially at what
Lubricia might think of it. She did not deny nor confirm my statement to the
girls for which I am pleased. Thankfully the bouncer calls us to tender the
club so there is no time to discuss it further. We enter a smoked filed room no
bigger than your average toilet at home. It has a DJ up on high playing with
his decks, four blackened walls, a disco ball hanging from the ceiling and
eight more people crushed u against each other trying to dance. It is great. I
grind m y pelvis into Lubricia and I imagine that everyone there wants to do
the same to me.
Enough of that time to enjoy the solared powered movie tent
and the jazzy sounds of the festival lat night crooners. We find a sofa to
lounge on for the next five hours as we wait for the sun to rise. Underneath
the cover of my black jacket I fondle Lubricia's right nipple until she is
moaning incessantly from the pleasure. She wants to scream out an orgasm but
fights the urge. She returns the favour and under the cover of a pink blanket
she fondles my cock and my testicles. She dares not masturbate for fear that
all those watching will no for sure what she is doing. All I can think is as I
look a t the girls and guys watching us is, “I am having my balls fondled, how
about you? " for those who don't have a tent we have the best seats at he
festival to feel warm whilst listening to some wicked sounds, watch some cool
people party away and snooze on each others shoulders from time to time. 
One place I love above else is the Kemptown church. It is here that I have spent many wonderful moments in my six years in Brighton. I have sun bathed on the grass of its gardens as I listened to the male gay choir rehearse on a sunny Saturday morning.
I have ate healthily and wrote inspiringly in its crypt café.
I have danced barefooted at the healthy concerts and swayed from side to side to the sounds of Charlie’s acoustic guitar ensemble. But what takes my breath away every time I pass by on a sunny afternoon is the simple perfect glory of the church’s Grecian tower which humbly peeks out over the top of the old oak tree and white washes the marine blue sky overhead.
Well this morning I got up at half past six and went for a five minute jog along the seafront watching the sun rise over the English Channel. My knee did not hurt me too bad and the sea air was warm and somewhat sweet. I met a buxom petite cyclist called Claire cycling to the station who has inspired me to try the same sooner rather than later.
I am sure I will find that many of them will be the very things that did not enrich me soul and some of which will be those things that drove me to leave this growthless environment for many years. Write them down as if you are writing a lonely heart's advert. I hope to identify those things to avoid this time around and maybe even identify in the process their opposites to try instead. As I think up this plan I spot a squirrel running across my path. A squirrel! Yes a squirrel, here in the heart of the city! It runs across me, up a wall and into a tree that is laden with its first harvest of autumnal conkers. He runs along one branch and reaches down to grab one of these conkers. Then he runs to a stronger branch and starts to munch with glee the contents of his conker. What joy, what luck to witness such a sight, to witness my squirrel having a light breakfast on this sunny September morn.
The big oak door opens the way into the Aladdins cave of financial information and the river reflects the glory of the morning London sunshine.
I go to bed at four o clock in the morning only to be force to get up at half past six to get the train to London. It is mid week and I am still a working man. I still have to give thirteen hours of my time to my company. I know what you are saying. “But you chose this life didn’t you?” Yes I did and so I don’t feel too angry right now about having to get up. I do remember a time when I was not investing so much time in another company. For ten long years of my life I more or less invested all my time in myself. At least I sleep on the train for an hour with Gertrude my pillow. Three and a half hours is not enough. I do not want to return to the hectic empty social life I use to have in London in the nineties. I want to grow this time not stagnate in the city. At four o clock I am looking forward to going home and having a long catch up sleep. I survived. But at half past four my mobile rings. I sneak outside to the corridor to take the call. It is my long lost friend Padraig Clancy from Ireland.
I haven’t seen my very old friend Padraig in ages and suddenly this excitement takes away all my tiredness and I agree. Life is about investing in people first, and things second. It takes me forty five minutes to get there but when I do I see the big lump waiting for me at the station. I give him the biggest hug. I can’t get my arms around him and my face only reaches his chest but it feels great to make the most of the opportunity. It reminds me of the immenseness I use to feel when I hug my dad. I meet all his comrades in the pub Johnny, Bruce, Andy and Steve. The minute I arrive they slag me off. It is great. I slag them back. I don’t disgrace myself on the table neither despite it been the kiddies type table that the English like to call a proper pool table. On the way back to Padraig’s hotel we have a good chat about life and everything. He loves to read my website from time to time. It provides him with comfort and the odd laugh. It makes me feel so proud to hear this. He thinks I am making a lot of it up. But I promise him I am writing down the truth as much as possible and that if I embellish it then it is only because my memory is so bad that I know the ending to an experience I have had but not the content.
"The light that falls over the fields below feels so warm", says and sighs Lubricia.
"I am sure it does.” I agree in repost. “And to me it's like prayer. I don't why it just is! It is a feeling I get looking at it."
Even though I hate the project I am on at the moment I accept a bribe from the company’s customer to be spoilt for a day in the executive box at Arsenal’s Emirates stadium. I am starving when I arrive but that does not stop the smoozers from giving me the glad hand shake as I dive into a chicken breast in filo pastry, some baby boiled potatoes, curried flavoured beef stew and cherry tomatoes in a balsamic vinaigrette. It is fun but so superficial chatting to the other eight members of the executive box. 
The only one I know is Mike the business analyst on my project. A few beers later we are swimming in the Dolby surround sound of the Watford and Arsenal fans. Andrew tells us that at Liverpool in the executive box you can’t sit out on the terrace like you can here at Arsenal’s new stadium.
"I don't have a partner as such Patricia. I feel a partner is someone whom you live with or plan a future together with which I am not, so I would prefer to say I have a lover and friend. And, if you must know, I also feel I am a piece of shit to her too. This is because Lubricia I feel wants more from me than I can give in that she wants me to love her so much that she will feel that I want to take care of her for the rest of her life. I can't give her that. I told her from the start that I only wanted to have fun. I couldn't give her any more than that. I told her I wanted to invest my time and energy into this job. She knew this and recently I told it to her again. But I still feel like a shit that I can't and don't want to give her more. I can't because I want to invest my time and energies into other things and don't want to, because I find I am always hurt when I do so with women. I do love her in my way. But my way to love someone is not the way she or any girl before has found to be rewarding or fulfilling. That is why I feel like a piece of shit Patricia. My love is never enough. In fact in recent years it has made my loved ones medically worse off. It usually means they end up depressed and sick. I love Lubricia as much as Yaya. In fact I would love to live in the same house as both of them and share the same bed with them. But I know they would see me as piece of shit for wanting this too. And knowing that they would think this of me if they ever found out, kills me every day."
5 Through being spiritual. Go to places where you feel something greater than "your introspection ".... Visit nature or a church, somewhere where you feel insignificant in the great scheme of things, somewhere where you feel you are in the presence of something great.
I feel the warm sun caressing the cheeks of my face on a crisp November morning as I stroll along on the lower promenade of the seafront. In the Terraces Cafe on this sunny day the Sunday lamb roast is dressed in red wine gravy. This and the roasted parsnips, roast potatoes satisfy me immensely as I gaze at the veterans' vintage cars that honk on by below on the seafront and marvel at three pairs of jet skies that tango their way under the Palace pier out yonder.
I manage to grab a little sleep in doing
this position but all too greedily my artist pronounces that she is finished
and requires me to adopt another position. Over the next half an hour, as I
listen unto the harmonies of the South Pacific, she sketches me leaning length
ways on my elbow and hanging backwards off the edge of the bed giving myself to
the white light of the sun screaming in through the window.
