I’ve been trying to force myself to read. For pleasure, just to try to practice having concentration on something . . . ANYTHING. It’s like I’ve totally lost whatever little bit of attention span and ability to hyperfocus I once had. So I forced myself into the backyard with a book . . . and just wound up taking these pictures.
I only read a few pages, and if you’d been watching me, you’d have seen how painful it was for me. Fidgeting, losing focus, looking at the sky . . . fuck. And it’s an easy straightforward entertaining read. WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME?!?
I need to redouble my efforts on everything. When I forced myself to start reading for pleasure awhile back, it seemed like my brain started working quite a bit better . . . but then a lot of “entertainment” actually stresses me out and/or depresses me, so I set aside the books because I felt like they were a bad influence on me. I’m not shitting you. BOOKS. Without pictures. BAD INFLUENCE. I should be more productive! Every choice I make is wrong, and I regret and rethink them within a minute of making each one.
Clearly(?) the problem(?) is that EVERYTHING(?) stresses me out. Even good things! In fact, I think I am primarily stressed out by good things rather than bad things these days. THAT IS SOME FUCKED UP SHIT! Fortunately I’m not the first person in the world to be plagued by ridiculous worry thoughts, so I will try to utilize some of the tools that have been devised for reversing such craziness on a more consistent basis.
I don’t know why I’m even typing these words in here. Why can’t I just let you enjoy my boobs?!?
Pretty much the only thing I can concentrate on these days is sex (with myself or with others). And staring at what I love. And sometimes food. Well . . . those aren’t really the ONLY things, but they’re all I can think of at the moment.
Now it’s nighttime and I feel deliciously tired. My efforts applied to exercising and taking care of my body seem to pay off so much more palpably SO much more quickly. When I do it. Which I did today after the whole reading-in-the-backyard exercise failed.
This is a branch that fell from a tree:
These are my naked boobs as I look towards the tree whence it came:
I was watering plants in the backyard. No breeze. Calm. Still. No voices. No birds. Just a little cracky tumble and it landed on the sidewalk near my cabin stoop. Like somebody high up in the tree wanted me to look up . . . and not see them. Just look.
Know this: results and consequences aren’t always immediately realized. You cannot reach high enough to see how much you have left to go or to prevent the inevitable or to wrench yourself free.
Yesterday after our nephews left, Delia and I went for a sweaty trail-walk/run . . . with a more driven emphasis on running than usual, which felt fantastic. And also tired us out completely . . . we fell asleep before ten. And slept for about ten hours. Actually I woke up at two and thought, “how the fuck am I going to go back to sleep for another four+ hours?!?” so I asked her if it would be okay for me to watch tv for awhile, but she was having none of it. So I had a snack and managed to go back to sleep.
We had a nice lazy start to the morning together, listening to music, drinking strong coffee . . . and then fucking.
Then I wanted to put on dresses and go somewhere special with her for lunch. Just the two of us.
With us spending so much time away from each other and out and about with other people, I miss just being near each other comfortably not-talking, strolling through town and having special meals together. I want to eat lunch in the summer sun, in public with my wife, with our legs showing.
Instead of going to the snotty French bistro for brunch, we walked through the Farmer’s Market with all kinds of magic food booths and folksy accordion music playing and without much discussion agreed on crab cakes, gazpacho, mulligatawny, and lemonade. The skirt of my dress blew up in the wind and I aggravated my wife by wanting to sit on the curb instead of the grass.
And then we filled up the gas tank.
Pretty sweet stuff, right?
NOTE: Taurus is visiting me on Monday so it’s very likely we will be on cam naked in bed together and stuff at some point(s).
No guarantees ever with our voyeur cams . . . this is all our real unscripted middle-aged poly life. 😉 We might have sex in the dark of the cabin or outside, etc. rather than with the nightshot in the sleeping alcove.