my careless contagion

Your smile, the first thing I see when I open my eyes, invites me into a new day. Your lips, full and beautiful, part for a moment, purse again, kissing me on the nose. A new day for you and me begins with a smile and an ache. My time with you seems so short. The ache tells me our day will be spent apart.  I close my eyes again, my hand making its circuit up and down your thigh. Your breath catches momentarily, then releases as my hand pauses. I pull your body next to me. Our eyes closed, we both know this isn't about fulfilling a carnal desire. This is two spirits, two souls touching with bodies of flesh.  Some souls touch more than hands ever could.  We felt one another from a distance for so long. Now that we are close, it's stronger, though it has the same unique mix of excitement and peace. It's not confusing. It's precious and still feels brand new, though we keep coming back to it. I am jealous of my time with you, guarding it, but realizing I don't own you. ...

I abandoned None Dare Call It Treason , my current-events blog, a few years ago. Things were happening so fast and furious, I couldn't keep up, it was a large time suck, and it degraded my mental health. I decided to focus on my life and walk with the Lord, which I recommend.  However, this week felt like something changed and compelled me to write. This isn't a right-wing post. I'm not MAGA. I'm much worse, as I see multiple sides and layers of deception. Most Americans identify as Independent (43%), and about 28% identify as Republican or Democrat. They are pretty even, if we are to believe the numbers. But that's not why I logged in today. This week it felt like a major spiritual shift occurred in the U.S. and we were unwittingly shoved down a dark corridor. I wouldn't mention this unless I actually felt it. I think we all did.  The narrative of the deaths of Charlie Kirk and Iryna Zarutska depend on who you tune into. My belief is these were staged events to...

You've probably heard this song, though maybe not for a while. If you're of a certain age, you likely know the song already. Since New Slang was released in 2001, I would peg its inception at 2000, making this song 25 years old, give or take. Feel old?  I don't know what it was about the song that made me want to write something. Let's take a look at the lyrics for clues.  *** Gold teeth and a curse for this town Were all in my mouth Only I don't know how they got out, dear Turn me back into the pet I was when we met I was happier then with no mindset And if you took to me like a Gull takes to the wind Well, I'd've jumped from my trees And I'd've danced like the king of the eyesores And the rest of our lives would've fared well New slang when you notice the stripes The dirt in your fries Hope it's right when you die, old and bony Dawn breaks like a bull through the hall Never should have called But my head's to the wall and I'm lonely...

Beguiled by the distant glow in the sky, I stepped into your warm waters. You beckoned me, and I felt compelled. Emboldened by your gentle waves, I forgot all else. I felt you envelop me with your love. Swimming away from the solidity of the shore, I embraced the waves. They pulled me out further.  Caught in your undertow, I panicked  at first, then became one with your sea.  Closing my eyes and feeling you surround me is calming, as I feel your gentle eyes on me, your arms wrap around, your kisses sweet on my neck. Pulled out deeper, the waves become calmer. I rise and fall with them, like I belong here. Shore birds and pelicans glide above on the breeze. I am alone, but I feel you with me.  I imagine you so often, it's like you're here with me sometimes. The thing I want the most is laying next to you, holding you, feeling your ribs rise and fall with your breath. The quiet, the peace, the unraveling. And I long to feel your gentle lips on mine, your hands soft and...

I finished reading Johnny Cirucci's Eaters of Children: The Pedocracy Exposed. It was hard to read, given the subject matter. Also hard to put down. I recommend anyone interested in what's actually going on in the world to read what they can from Johnny Cirucci. Most of the "truther" camps were infiltrated or created to be controlled opposition. They point the blame at the globalists, the Jews, various races and groups, political parties and ideologies, governments, and ruling families. But the main driver of misery among mankind is the Vatican. But, by all means, pray for your government. It's actually a directive in the Bible . The truther camps come with a lot of misdirection and wasted energy. Johnny hits the nail on the head, though he doesn't understand how to adequately fight back (spiritual warfare). True change comes through following the Lord and fighting back in the spirit realm.  Cirucci is an ex-Roman Catholic who reveals that Rome is behind every...

When all is said and done, these pages are a microcosm. So much love. So many questions. So many lines intersecting, reaching out, connecting, diverging, close but never leading anywhere. How many millions of love letters has mankind written? How many lines went unsaid, never acted upon? I wrote my lines. I'm content knowing I tried, loved, waited, did everything I was supposed to do. What they did with my love was never in my hands. I faithfully loved until doors closed forever. Love is beautiful, but it must be chosen, accepted, brought in from the rain. Mine was discarded like an ill-timed valentine, ink bleeding in the rain, tossed about by the wind, wet and matted in a gutter.  Here, loved turned to hate. Hate turned to tears. Tears turned to forgiveness. Forgiveness turned to prayer. Prayer ended in upturned hands to a knowing God and a brokenness that cannot be healed. All the things that were once in my hands are gone. I am left with questions that stretch to the horizon....

This is not a joke, though some may laugh. My blog feels like a joke, but it is a place to pause and reflect or, in this case, examine. And maybe find a solution. Betty and Veronica are characters in the Archie comics universe, which I grew up with. Archie is a ginger buffoon, forever caught between competing love interests of two girls. I use the names Betty and Veronica because the girls in question have the same name. I cannot, for the life of me, choose one. It's distressing. I pushed both away at different times, and with the same result. They are unshakable, and I like them both.  Who cares, right? Bro is cooking. Here's why this matters. There is some weird, perverse voodoo with this blog, where, if I write about a woman, she often disappears. So, in order to solve the problem of having two girls interested in me (first time for everything), I will write about them and see who disappears. Call it a test. At this point, I don't care how it is resolved. I go back and f...