Sad Hot Warning ~ I changed blog name to missing wet clothes into gold. YET? my clothes are NOT missing on this post. (*sob*) Read between the fine lines…I am missing the wet on my clothes. I’m romancing the wet in. patience is golden. To be continued…
When I began blogging Scorched Peaches over there in the field back in August, I had moved beyond desperate. I had moved beyond immobile. I was beyond the beyond. Butt I hadn’t survived the pale.
THE PALE is euphemism for CRAFT BEER. ahem, AND???
Pissing on willing discordant men.
I’m not yet survived on the LOVE that crashes when I embody this siddhic freedom. when I allow romance to be my new HIGH instead of #emosick low. my life beyond the pain. orienting. allowing. correcting. hmmm. my 3-month report on being out? tolerance is growing.
I’ll attempt some linear…about six months ago, I informed my treasured blog peepers that sad hot blogging had to change. So It did. I think this space got worse. Butt what is NEEDED to fulfill my NUDY strange dreams? blogging will not dance that in. Tis visceral work. ~ I jumped blind in 2006. Now?
NUDY replacing my oldest pro work skin must be danced within.
Cheer me on? Not much to do outside contemplate a life with shame revoked. Not strong enough to dance down ordinary sexual assault AND hold work on coherent FAWK Philosophy. (manifesta notes are at a nil.) So, boring nine-week structural posts continue. Week three —
The ANTAGONIST in my life?
Power.
I start working out my thighs next week.
Until then…
(((A)))
