Hey you can see my body but you can't read my mind, right?
No I won't be posting my "O" face, so I guess I left myself with something to save. No, not for you, but in case I decide to again try that fools game, called Love or sharing my life with someone again?
That will not be for a while, based on my current mood, feelings and my past history...
I sit here contemplating where to really start this, not sure if I really want to do so, if anyone would read, or even be interested in me, what I say, think or feel. Isn't that the same with all non sociopathic Blog Writers? Or just me?
This will not be "another Emo Blog" of another guy, wanting to get his dick sucked, or ego fed, +1'd or Liked. This is the Internet, I know my way about, I know how it works, sometimes I just write for the sake of writing and because it makes me feel better. Other times it's because I write fragments of things across the Wider Web to stitch together at a later time, their disjointed locations allow me to create a bigger picture when the time comes to pull the pieces together and make the full canvas. Probably lost most if not all of the few readers that came looking already with that, meh, fuck it. I write for me, not for you, if you like what I write or it interest you, hey that is a bonus. Not why I do it though, just so you know up front, I value honesty, mine most importantly.
Well, I guess if you read this far you are a long suffering Blog reader and used to rambling intros that you sift through hoping to read something interesting or worth the next 5 minutes of your time?
So, this Intro you mentioned, isn't it time you got to it?
I ended my last relationship in November 2014, she didn't get the message for a further 2 months, can you believe that shit??? Unpossible you say (WoW reference, if you think I typo'd!) No, not kidding you, she was told more times than I care to mention the relationship was dead, done and dusted, even tried to clarify it by letting her know in as many languages as I knew the end had arrived, but being a Soul Sucker she didn't want to end her ride on the Soul train... Think I'm kidding? Nope, Verbally, emailed, texted and screamed at she had been given the elbow, dropped on Facebook and everyone else knew it yet she refused to accept it, how the fuck?
I had spent over 3 years with a woman who initially was setting herself up very well to be my Soul Mate, oh the internal scoff and derision I now feel and think about that statement. As you may have guessed the potential Soul Mate turned into a Soul Sucker. Yet another on a long list from my 40 and soon to be 41st year on this Planet, deep fucking joy!
Yes, I ended the relationship, always important to point that out if you did so, right? I mean where else does the bloody closure begin if you can't claim for sure you dropped them?
Oh, don't get me started on closure, cos even being the one who ended the relationship doesn't grant me that delight, yet.
So, I left her, she got the 3 bedroom house, large Garden, Car and the dogs, O.K the dogs were hers when I moved in with her, but one of them was far more my dog after 3 years or so than was ever hers. More to the point she never took them for a walk or looked after them the way a proper dog owner should. The house was hers too, but I invested more time, effort and money into it in the 3 years or so I lived there than she ever did.
I moved into a 2 bedroom flat, cut my ties, left most of the stuff that was outright mine, all for a new start... As you may discover in time, I had little choice but to walk away before I ended up doing time in a cell if I didn't...
So this Wolf Den thing, wtf?
Any place that is mine, I call my Wolf Den. A Man Cave. Just my version of it, it's a state of mind along with a place of being...
No Pink in sight, no scatter cushions*, no frilly bog roll covers and certainly not a single day the toilet seat gets left DOWN unless I just had the first of my Two regular morning BO's. Then after my second visit to evacuate my bowels the seat stays the fuck up, all day, no excuses! You come visit and need a shit or a piss, you lift that fucker back up right after you finish and just before you wash your hands. Simply put, Men are not lazy, we just don't pout the seat down because we have rights too yannow? It takes as much effort for a woman to lift the toilet seat as it does a man to put it down. If you can't be bothered to lift the seat, I can't be bothered to piss in the big hole if you don't; I might be tempted just to piss all over the seat to hear your scream or shriek when your delicate arse puts down on a urine soaked seat because it makes me laugh. More importantly because yeah; I pissed over my property to fulfil my animal instincts of claiming my ground. After all, remember; it's my home, not yours.
What is probably about to follow will be the account of living in the Wolf Den, thoughts while being here, and I guess the long hard climb to become almost human again while being here.
May also get some input about my no doubt long and boring search for a new Female to take part in my life, or several if I am lucky?
If you read this far, I'd be surprised, but Google will come along shortly and index what I said regardless, and I love Google, I'm a geek after all, so it won't be a wasted effort. If you are human and did read, do me a favour, say so, good or bad, one way or the other, it allows me some feedback or if I should add more.
* I will no doubt at some point post my view on Scatter Cushions and the female obsession with them at a later date, for now though, if I lost you (Yet again) go YouTube Coupling [UK Version, not the shit US version, no offence to anyone American but you cannot translate English humour, doubt me, I offer Red Dwarf, Queer as folk and Coupling as prime examples of fail, fail and fucking fail as prime examples...]