The Moaning Whinies

Life is not "but a dream" and even though to the onlooker I might be "cruising" I can guarantee you that inside this skin its a constant battle. I have just endured hours of moaning, begging and nagging - for a nibble of cheese, or a slice of toast. "Just the one..", what a trick. 

With all the years of experience I have behind me, I know by now that if I am being helped then to ride that wave as long and far as possible. Never, ever say "I'm going off for a quick diversion, will be back.. " because there may be no coming back. I'm being helped now, and to take a single step to undo the victories gained thus far would be madness. After all, what is life all about? Is there any meaning or purpose? Tomorrow would be awful.

And so I sit and work, all the while with this chat - and its more to get rid of the chat than indulge the sensations that people probably give in. That relentless whining and urging. I find it amazing that I can just do nothing, delay that moment of responding to it. Doing nothing about the urge is safe. I watch myself doing nothing, and know that I survived yesterday by doing nothing. Keep busy and do not respond to commands from fungal interiors. Breathing is a kind of eating, too, while doing nothing.

And when there must be something and I've already eaten there are unlimited Oranges. The suggestion of the breadbin or fridge keeps coming up... Oranges. Same question again... Oranges.  Again. Regular and insistant yet every one almost catches me off guard.Then after a few hours of this I look back, wave passed and still safe. Tomorrow my head won't be in my hands.

This is how it must be in a sexually charged situation and not giving in to the tremendous sensation invitation. The word is Endurance. Every moment just keeps filling up your honour cup. Enduring and breathing.

I know I can and must sit tight through the moaning whinies of these cheese and bread luvvin' moulds - there is tomorrow to look forward to, and so much more besides.


This poor young lad has got himself chained to the devil's throne. 
Yet all he has to do is raise the chain over his head and go, but he doesn't - he looks inside as if controlled by something there. And there is, it is even growing out of his head.