I am Sick of women getting blamed! For the breakdown in the mental health of men, like we somehow have a responsibility to keep everyone’s shit together, not doing so, and worse having your own issues, makes you a weak and useless woman, or that we are the reason that he had a mental break because we’re crazy and we rubbed off on him!
Oh Shit, you got us, we got a secret.
In school that “sex ed class” where the boys and girls are separated into groups for a “Talk” wasn’t “sex-ed” it was the meeting of the coven teaching us how to utilise our vaginal strength to drain men of their essence.
Haven’t done one of these in a LONG time.
As I began to type this, “You do something to me” begun to play from iTunes so, invariably my post is going to be about music and likely my husband and myriad other lovey dovey-ness.
having or relating to rhythm.
“a rhythmic dance”
“there are rhythmic changes in our bodies”
What is rhythm, well, its life isn’t it?
Our bodies entwined our moods, our love, our day to day.
It’s the beating of my heart, when you walk in the room, or when you kiss my forehead.
It’s the sound of your shower at 7.30 am whilst I am still in slumber,
the sound of “Bat Out of Hell” playing from your ” yet again forgot to switch off” 8am alarm.
The sound of the spoon as you stir your morning coffee.
The tinkle of your keys as you pick them to go for your outside morning cigarette.
“Sugar pie, Honey bunch” Every time you call.
The sound of you and the cat as you play and roughhouse,
her needy meow when you come through the door and forget to say “Hi”,
the sound of the kibble as you feed her when I am feeling lazy,
the sound of her automatic string toy, when it’s frustrating her and you can’t stop laughing.
The sound of the dice, as we roleplay and my vampire Natalia, grows in power.
The sound of the blender as I make you the smoothies you so love.
The loud gulp, whenever you drink.
The sound of our life in love.
This is what our love is.
Little milestone for me quite proud of myself!
Page 16-17 Im right there
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