I've been called a hopeless romantic. Hopeless most definitely. There appears to be no connection between my heart and mind, and despite my best intentions of avoiding expectation, I tend to get caught up in the commotion of day dreams. And while this has resulted in much frustration and disappointment, I don't think I would have it any other way. At least I give a damn; some things matter.
I'm single and, I suppose, happy enough with that. Is it a choice? I can't tell anymore , but the in name ownership I'll say "yes". There are certainly worse situations. Some nights, I love to be able to stretch out in a bed all to myself, and fart if I feel like it. Other nights, I'd like to be tied into a knot of arms and legs with someone's breath on my chest.
The longer I'm single, the pickier I seem to get; a frightening paradox. What will I be like at seventy? Hopefully beyond sexual urges; fcuk Viagra...chemical castration? Seriously, how much simpler would life be without lust? Boring? Perhaps.
Younger men seem to have a special place in my heart...'tis a terrible affliction really. You guys are such a pain in the ass; but not literally, and how could I ever stay mad at you? I'm weak.
It takes a while to get to know me, but I like to think it's a good return on investment. If I don't like you, I'm certainly big enough to kick your ass. But if I do like you, you can walk all over me...careful where you step.
I'm an officer in the Canadian Navy. Yes, we have one. The navy is the only job I've ever really known, which is another way of saying, I've never known a real job. Not to say it's without challenge, or that I don't work hard, but I've always felt somewhat cocooned from reality by the military. It's comfortable, and I appreciate that at the moment.
I've come to realize with time that the answer to most everything in life is knowing that you know nothing, and have everything to learn. If you have to say you're mature and special, you're not. Arrogance is not confidence, and b-itchiness is not humor. Wanna be famous? Pull your pants back up, and cure cancer. Normal is under-rated.
I like normal. Normal is genuine. Normal is real. There's no faking normal. We all try so hard to stand out, but there's nothing unique about trying to be different. Just be.
Truly I hate the internet - not unlike a crack addict hates crack. I'm either never on it, or I'm on it all the time; with brief, intermittent times of normal usage in between. I believe the internet has killed my sex life. On cam with someone who lives down the street? What the fcuk? Put down the mouse and step outside.
I'd say I'm relatively positive, but I am human. When I'm feeling down, I often think of people without legs. That generally cheers me up. Not that I think it's funny to have no legs; quite the opposite. How bad can things get? A lot worse. If you have air in your lungs, food in your stomach, clothes on your back, and money in your pocket, you're one of the lucky ones...So, shut up! And I do.
I run a lot. Not because I have to, but because today I can and tomorrow I may not be able. When I run, forward movement is the only thing that matters. One step, and then the next. That's what I like about it. Unfortunately my love of running is unrequited as I go from one injury to the next. But today, at least, I have legs (see above).