Oh God. It just occured to me. Sinking pit in my stomach falling into my groin nauseous feeling, as I sit here and watch Wallace & Gromit while thinking adult thoughts behind my face like we all do in front of family all our lives somehow especially the adorable awesome precious death sentences that are children. Most thoughts are dark [omg how is anyone surviving watching the news on top of it all?? cannot take it], so I am reaching for thoughts that make me feel better, the trains of thoughts that don't lead to that furious TEMPER trapped in my belly, anything but that please Goddess give me a break from that, so of course I'm sitting here pulling up that torso in my mind. I'm so starving and seething I might be able to nearly pop one off while holding perfectly still just thinking about it right here, ha. Then it HITS ME: he could be getting married, like now, before I can tell him the story at all, he might be on his honeymoon this week, right fucking now he could be boarding a plane for Mexico, hence his quiet at the moment, which I was perfectly fine with (better than fine, I like to simmer, until I had this realization) - and if so, the meeting in a bar will come after the wedding again. 

I'm letting that siiiiink in. 

Please, Jesus, do not let Toughie be getting married right now and then letting it sink in on some beach that he hasn't stopped thinking about my relatively innocent torso shot for even one single waking minute. 

Toughie, hear my voice, I can feeel you dude, and you do NOT want to do THAT, it will be cataclysmic and we will never get over it, not really really over it, it'll be kind of always there in back of mind. You don't survive sex like that, there isn't even a word for it in English, you're rebirthed by it, excurciating lifewise and yet your lungs will take the biggest breath they can then scream then do it again and again until you pass out writ large. And then face life as a different person than the one you had been. Bonded to the person who just cleaved you, and vice versa. That's why it's me dude, because I've already rebirthed you once (at least once! - considering how long ago the teaching then all the mentoring-y jazz later, I might have put ideas in your head just when you needed an idea over and over, I can't even do that fuddmath), that's why it's me you want (to kill you by sucking your soul out your dick and never really letting it all the way go again). You want me to deconstruct all of you with the full force of my attention 👁. I have done that thing. Yes. 

Do not do not do not ask me to make landfall on a shiny new stupid fucking marriage, cz 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌪🌪🌪🌪🌪🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥💣💣💣...

Wait, I have the therapist! If only he doesn't call before I see her again, I'll tell HER the story, the survey, ass tat and all. There's no way I see her green-lighting doing that shit again. Right? 🤔 "You should do what you want. What are the consequences of that choice for you, his consequences are 100% not your problem, this thought exeriment is for your life only." That is what she would say. And she might be rather delighted by the ass tat story as an example of my adaptive self empowerment psychshit whatever, "brutally sane". 

I'm going to take a klonopin lol seriously and thank God kids are pinning me here (don't run with scissors god dammit) where I will have time to let this "set a spell", as they say. (I need to look that saying up, actually 🤔) And I won't be free to whip up slowly and with all my might a huge orgasm to summon him with by screaming his name like a dodge ball thrown back hard. Again.

I'm not even going to try to think about my consequences. Because if I try, I will just think about his dick, because I need to get some dick and pizza and ice cream into me, badly, thus I can't don't won't give a shit AT BEST. Slapping folks with "DUH!" in a way that makes them feel good (better) is my favorite passtime. To me, it will be overwhelmingly instictive *yes* like a vampire that's been trying to be good by only eating rats for centuries. I will fall on it. I didn't know last time, any of this, and it could not have been a PATTERN because it hadn't happened before. I mean, cmon, I know they're all thinking about fucking me, I'm standing there lol. The OG-Fudd (new blog name, Buddy) was the first one to launch a sneak attack. Using a stupid fucking marriage after a befuddlingly sexy narration of his engagement that made no earthly sense (it made only Fudd sense lol). Now it might be a PATTERN, and hmmmm I was apx what I weigh now, full yoga body, I can feel my pulse in my twat. Full circle. Sometimes I just lie here and feel my pulse, with no object in mind, just acknowledging its tempo alive-alive-alive, for which I am grateful. 

Hopefully the therapist will help me "flesh these ideas out" as we say in the teachbiz. 

Welp.

kiss the girl - shakey graves (Disney cover) I was just rolling it around in my mouth lalalaa repost