I tend to look for muses who feed my brain and feel the need for that spark that pushes me further in to my own mind and what lies overhead.I am full of words and music, all backed up against my soul skin, chomping at my intellectual bit. What is it about me? Is it the fact that I grew up in an unconventional household with a poet for a father who was very much an individual? Or is it that I possess a little madness of my own that looks for kindred souls? These sirens beckon me and I am unable to resist their darkness, their lure, that glint in their eye that hints at something. They speak to me from dating websites, attracting me with their scintillating wit, their penchant for artiness, the lack of jobs and common sense hidden behind a mysterious veneer of fun, laughter and smoky conversations. Quirky eccentrics, creative, off kilter and left of centre alcoholic smokers, the weirder the better. ![]() There may be a winter of discontent, but there is a spring, summer and autumn of contentment to look forward to. one person's lack of the latest Iphone can breed discontent, whereas I, on the other hand, couldn't care less about material objects, shiny baubles, the latest hairdo or a Gucci handbag? I find contentment in laughter, my boys' cuddles, an intimate moment with my imaginary other, conversations full of light, dark and everything in between, a gorgeous meal.these are my moments of content, so when I find myself sometimes entering the realm of discontent, I have to remind myself of my small pleasures. But! if Isabelle Huppert can look ravishing at 60, it gives me hope.I am almost in my prime, or am I? When is that, anyway? When you are in your 20's, glowing with sex, discovery and earning money, in your 30's when you live the dream, with a house, two kids, one with problems, but both bright! or in your 40's when you find yourself, enter a new level of self discovery, find out what sex is really about and make your own life? You, and only you, can answer that question. I don't like these extra wrinkles that only I seem to see but am lucky to have the fair skinned gene of the Celts to stem the waves of aging that people enter at a certain point. If I should die tonight and all that rubbishy 's syrupy and unrealistic.If I died tonight I wouldn't be happy, as there is so much more left to do.Soak up life in alien lands, meet new and stimulating people, see my little naughties reach ever more learned teenagehood and beyond, see if I am perhaps more logical then I have ever thought possible. Hence, I look for periods of contentment, like tonight as I sit here writing in the gas smelling warmth, my berry laden shiraz and healthy homemade strong soup in front of me, looking forward to watching True Blood 5.utter contentment. Discontent is a lovely word, scarcely bandied about by today's with it generation who are always part of something, searching for complete happiness, which anyone with a teaspoon of sense would know is elusive, in the moment. ![]() Bah humbug - and it ain't even bloody Christmas, where I would at least have an excuse to bury myself in a glass of brandy, eat enormous amounts of pudding and bitch to family members over shared tedium, cracker pulling lunches and sodden outsiders. So fill me up, Buttercup, don't break my heart(Do's)Aye, baby baby, tell me, aye (more do's) I-I-I need you-oo more than anyone, darlin' So fill me up, Buttercup, don't break my heart I need you, I need you, more than anyone, darlin'
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