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Discussion Starter #861
A rapt man must first court, then sometime later, kiss his loves lips.

Her other lips should only be kissed when her heart tips, fully towards love.

A ladies heart must be won over first, then her face lips, then her other-place lips.

Any other order to the process, cheapens the encounter.

Intimate encounters are those, so fragile, good-shivers.


The Typist-
 

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Discussion Starter #862
Ladies often wonder about their landing zone.
Shall it be bushed, or shall it be bare tarmac?
It is, indeed, a sensitive subject.


The Typist-
 

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Discussion Starter #863
I was told that [[[[The Fist]]]] visited *THRD in Brigadoon.

*THRD is presently a corporeal spirit. Yes, he has active stones, and his mass is said to be (one) stone.

An odd thing, this?


[The Helmsman]-
 

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Discussion Starter #864
I am writing this in a color that spirits like [The Helmsman] cannot read.

As mentioned before, THRD is my brother.

We are multi-dimensional.

He is not dead, his greater bodily mass is in another world, our originating realm.
Brigadoon is his creation.

He is with his love, that lovely and kind, Nellie.

THRD is in recess, and presently dormant.
His shell doppelgänger is Are Dee.

Note: I am *fully here, in/on Earth.



King Brian-

*
I do take leave now and again, going to other dimensions.
 

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Discussion Starter #865
Truth is always clear, not neutral, not shaded, not light, nor dark, not pastel, it is clear.

It is the contributing artist and the mindless who give it some color.

Each man has his own sense, his own need to be a truth teller, coloring as he sees fit.

Color is in the mind of those viewing.

The light of truth is separated out in each man’s life prism.

Ah, that prism is life’s prison.

We are but a very small bit of the whole spectrum.
We are but a reflection of that whole.


SunCMars-
 
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Discussion Starter #866
When the truth will not win the day, the lie will delay its ending.
When the truth will not win the day, the lie will deny its ending.
When the truth will not win the day, the lie will belie its ending.


King Brian-
 
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Discussion Starter #867
The place we call insanity, is outside its meaning in print.

An outside place, still, ever near.
A chemical imbalance, an electrical storm, one ounce, one strike away.

Getting to that place only requires one to lose that other place, that reality.
Reality is a misnomer, all mind states are within, and in fact.

Insanity is that outside, reversing, coming inside.
An outside state, come home.

Becoming, not sane.
Sane losing it’s ‘in’ place, more, its word arrangement.

Losing its word state, nothing more.
Words being wrongly stated.
 

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Discussion Starter #868
It is not a man's frailty, that emotional softness that counts in the bedroom, it is that hard probing.



Lilith-

THRD
brought me back to Earth, my second home.

I visited him in Brigadoon.
I must admit, I did not recognize him.
I mistook him for the ghost of Ulysses.
 

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Discussion Starter #870
I have been outed.

Just another older man.

My shell has aged, the inner workings have slowed.
I have, yet, a long way to fall, to fail.
Be it known...


Are Dee-
 

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Discussion Starter #871
I agree.....

I pepper some of my quotes with vibrant soil.
Waiting longingly for some new Spring.

Take those base quotes with a grain of salt, though, salt not my Worth.
Nor, my words.
Salt and soil are that anatheism.

R-
 

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Truth is always clear, not neutral, not shaded, not light, nor dark, not pastel, it is clear.

It is the contributing artist and the mindless who give it some color.

Each man has his own sense, his own need to be a truth teller, coloring as he sees fit.

Color is in the mind of those viewing.

The light of truth is separated out in each man’s life prism.

Ah, that prism is life’s prison.

We are but a very small bit of the whole spectrum.
We are but a reflection of that whole.


SunCMars-

The truth’s a bad scratch and imagination makes like a bandaid. Nobody ever wants the real truth of you anyway. They want the you that they like.

Someone just said this same thing to me this morning. I’ve been feeling down, trying to drag myself out of it, and instead of being there holding my hand and asking what they could do to help me, they asked, “Where’s the giggly, fun loving C.C. that I know?

Are we all just who we are depending on who’s pulling the strings or putting their hand up our asses to make us ‘talk’ like they want? Can we not be more than that??

Where’s the acceptance that we are so much more than what they want? Certainly we can’t be true to ourselves living in the shadows of someone else’s expectations.

Doesn’t seem very ‘friend like’ to me.

It’s no wonder that we grab for that imagination bandage when the truth becomes all too real.

72688
 

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Discussion Starter #873
Aye!

Within 'reason', be yourself, let those not liking you, shake themselves out.

Try to remain civil.
In society, we have enough of those who act as Sybil.



King Brian-


That Sybil was one of my many spells, gone mad, gone bad.
 
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Discussion Starter #874
Ah' crap, here comes another one from our wayward HeadMate.

Are Dee-
......................................................................................

At that first lovemaking, some ladies hide with their hands, their privates.
Yet later, willingly rub them all over you.
They fear, more your eyes, than your hands.

Odd, this.
Your eyes merely imagine, what the hands touch, and truly find.
Find, truly lovely.


The Typist- Huh? These thoughts beat talking endless politics like the rest of you tenants... do.
 

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Discussion Starter #875
Joy, and its overage coming to ‘bare’ repeatedly, can make the receiver inured, numb to the pleasant rule of thumbs.
That, too much of a good thing.

Those rich, hence, have few joys available.

Some many, therefore, turn to drugs and debauchery, at some end.

From the archives of THRD-
 
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Discussion Starter #876
Wayward thoughts are that brief and passing reality, for most who are truly, honest thinkers.

When that reality, along the way, leads to, and becomes cheating, then wayward is no longer windward.

The storm is at your back.

Your dreams are made muddy-wet, and soaked with true-shame.

The storm that has you aloft will one-day drop you on your soft spot.
Whatever that place may be, to you.
 
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Discussion Starter #877
Relativism is *rarely-never that oxymoron.
Not any stone is ever so, settled firmly.

What can be broken will be, whatever can be made different, is so done.
Or, will be done on Earth and in the Heavens above.

*rarely here, leaves room for error.
 

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Discussion Starter #878
What is seen on the surface may show no change.
Any changes present may not affect the appearance....notably.

As matter is in motion, as there are waves of little changes, what is seen now, is changed to some other state, later.

The totalized essence may not change as much as the inner-sense resolves, evolves.
 

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Discussion Starter #879
I ping and I ping, I sing, waiting for our Avatars red light to appear.


The Typist-
 
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