It’s dark and it’s cold and it’s heart-crushingly lonely.

But other than that, it’s a fabulous place to live.

I hate it but I need it. I know damned well that it’s not cold and dark in my sad little pit by accident. I have the mother of all freeze responses going, and the overwhelming dogma of the freeze response is that light and motion and nearness to others are danger and therefore the only safety lies in crouching down in lightless stasis forever.

Which is kind of hard to achieve when you’re still alive.

Hence my feeling like one of the walking dead a lot of the time, and talking about my efforts to resurrect myself, plus all the talk of tombs and coffins and morgue freezers.

There has to be a way to reverse polarity on that shit. Chipping away at the ice does work in the long term but at this rate, I’ll have been dead and buried for three years before I see any real progress.

And I need to live, god damn it. And that means shedding all this goddamned fear that grips my heart and freezes me in place whenever I try to break free.

Fuck this incremental change. I need a revolution.

And that means opening myself up to radical change. I have mentioned feeling like I am too stable for my own good many times before and lately that lesson has been really hitting home. There are worse things in life than chaos and instability, especially when those things are necessary steps towards a happier and more harmonious hole.

View that way, sacrificing short term stability and predictability in order to get great stability and happiness in the long term seems eminently reasonable.

I mean, it’s not like I am all that stable now.

It only seems that way because I lead such an isolated life in which very little happens at all. My life is remarkably free of events. Very little can or does happen to me.

And the few things that do happen tend to be medical in nature, and very rarely are those things any fun at all.

I want things to happen in my life, and yet, I’m also terrified of that, and that brings me to what for today at least I will call my central dilemma :

The part of me that yearns to be alive is not yet stronger than the icy grip of my fear, and I feel like that is not an accident. I think that as long as I remain under the tyrannical thumb of my fears, my depression is begrudgingly willing to allow me the illusion that things are getting warmer in here because it knows its position isn’t TRULY threatened.

And it won’t be for a long, long time.

So it’s like how the rich people of today are perfectly willing to spend oodles of money in order to appear to be concerned about climate change.

And they will make all kinds of big commitments to end carbon emissions.. by 2050.

Clearly, if we truly want to save our lives, we need to stop following their timetables and start telling them how long THEY have to get their shit together.

Otherwise, we’re coming for them.

And we are taking EVERYTHING from them.

More after the break.

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Another gallery night

No emotions currently clawing to get out of my head.

Might as well share pics until I think of something more to write about.

Starting with this glowingly wholesome scene.

I totallty see it as a poster to encourage kids to read. Thanks to a filter I applied to it, it even has that warm, happy, magical “glow” to it.

All my best childhood memories have that kind of sunshine-y glow to them. I am sure many of yours do, too.

We really are creatures of summer, aren’t we? As a species. It’s such a fundamental part of us that we rarely stop and wonder why we love the sun on green grass under a blue sky on a warm summer day.

I wonder if there’s a “:Savannah Syndrome” kind of like Jerusalem Syndrome, but instead of thinking you are Jesus (or whoever), you are overwhelmed by feelings of connecting with your ancient ancestors who roamed the Serengeti, and you kind of “go native” in a way you will find crushingly embarrassing when you recover.

Because I can totally imagine that happening to me if I ever take my “rise of humanity” tour of the world, starting at Olduvai Gorge.

Or wherever modern science things we started.

This one has a funny story attached to it.

I swear to god, I didn’t add the second dude.

I was just messing around with the dude in the white shirt have a nice walk through a lovely park when I decided I wanted to see what he looked like in blue Lycra shorts.

Generated the new imagine, and poof (sic), it adds an entire boyfriend and they are now holding hands while going for a stroll.

Apparently, blue Lycra shorts imply entire gay relationships in the fascinating world of modern AI modeling.

It’s not wrong.

Oh hey, I don’t think I have shared this one here yet.

That is me, Fruvous, all cuddled up with my dear pal Ada.

And that’s us most weekday mornings in Merriam’s on Tapestries. She’s my cuddle buddy and I am her lap ornament. 😛

We do silly things together.

One more pic. Time for some smut.

How about a nice pork rump?

I never really thought of pigs as sexy, but there is something about that big beautiful juicy pink piggy butt that makes my mouth water and my hips twitch.

Must…. hump…. piggybutt….

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.