Samantha Beardon's Blog, page 69
August 20, 2016
Doing What You Want
In life, we are individuals first and foremost. And as individuals, we are able to do anything we want.
Other people can suggest things to us, and they may have a level of influence over us; but we ultimately control our own choices and actions. No one can force us to do anything we don’t want to do.
So my question is should we ever have to do anything we don’t want to do?
At first glance, the answer seems obvious:
No, of course not.
If you don’t want to do something, why in the world would you do it? Right?
Unfortunately things aren’t that simple.
Your Life is Not Your Own.
We are individuals. And yes, we CAN do what we want. But we do not live in a vacuum.
Our choices and decisions impact others. If you are in a relationship, or have children; your actions often…
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August 19, 2016
Kitty
Kitty
A long life lived full of joy, sorrow and caring
A time in space, with others, full of sharing
So many moments, from your life, to be cherished
Other times lived,then forgotten and perished.
Childhood highlights, clear in your mind
Lilting Irish tones, paint pictures of a kind
Burgeoning love, then a partnership strong
Marriage and children soon followed on
Adventures and friendships milestones of the past
Stretch into the future forever a repast
The woman who is never a stranger
Touching lives, being an arranger
Passing on stories, holding the lines
Kitty 100, a woman of her times
Kitty matriach of the clan
Lives her life, with panache and elan.
Chapter 1. Converging Lives
Chapter 1 Rick. Perth Australia.
“You are so bloody demanding and unreasonable. “I shout, as I exit the house. I barge through the door leaving it to slam behind me. The thud, reverberating through the house. Hopefully underlining my words and show casing my exasperation. It gives me some satisfaction that I got in the last words of the argument.
Rushing across the drive, I reach my car. Which stands sleek, black and shiny, my status symbol and my shelter. That BMW convertible is my badge of honour. I stroke its sinuous body, drop into the driver’s seat and slide the key into the ignition in one smooth movement. As the engine catches, I push my foot hard onto the accelerator; the throaty roar always excites me, although today it hardly raises a flicker of interest. I zoom out of the drive, heedless of the screech of the tyres. I am heading towards the sanctuary of the golf club. A few drinks, combined with some male banter, should improve my mood. Although I am expecting to get a hard time from my best mates, having missed our golf date because of my disagreement with Gillian.
My mind is racing as I mull over the quarrel, my wife is becoming sour and unreasonable. She appears to be aging so fast and is becoming inflexible. The glorious, adventurous woman that met me, challenge for challenge, has disappeared. In her place is a sexless caricature. I grit my teeth and grin sardonically. Well maybe not sexless but a pale image of the sexy vibrant woman I married. Not only that, she seems to be looking to pick fights and is constantly carping about issues, that a year ago she would not have commented upon, or even noticed
Driving through Perth I glower at the ongoing construction, remodelling, at its worst. The jury is still out I suppose, but I fear the city will be become a place of uninspiring high-rise buildings and lose its character. Tonight it is certainly looking like a raggedy collection of broken teeth propped up with scaffolding, or crazy distorted tombstones silhouetted against the night sky.
I grit my teeth and bang my fist on the steering wheel. The heated discussion with Gillian was futile and pointless. We did not resolve the issue, of my forthcoming special training in America and my proposal for her to accompany me. This would have been an ideal opportunity for us, to fulfil one of the items on our bucket list, to go water boarding and have serious fun. We just landed up name calling and bringing up old grievances. I regret not keeping my cool, but Gillian was so unreasonable, she goaded me. She certainly ignited my blue touch paper, possibly even deliberately. My knuckles are white as they grip the steering wheel and I know I need to cool it. I handled my side of the discussion badly, so I am mad with myself and with her.
Arriving at the golf club, I misjudge the bend, and have to brake hard. Close to scraping the gatepost, I sweep into the car park, scattering gravel. I abandon the car angled over two bays; for once, I am too annoyed, to straighten it. I just jumping out, almost stumbling in my haste. I stop and take a deep breath and then another, straighten my back and walk into the bar. A quick scan shows a good crowd. There are several groups at tables, plus a few guys propping up the bar. There is a hum of conversation, a chink of glasses and the sound of laughter, but it is restrained and muted. It is too quiet for the guys to have arrived. They must still be on the course. I kick the potted palm as I walk past and let expletives off like fireworks in my head.
The barmaid has seen me and is waving. Gritting my teeth, I saunter towards the counter and plaster an insincere smile onto my face. It would have to be Helen tonight. She is young, nubile with sun kissed locks and a smiling heart shaped face, but dumb and oh so very besotted with me. In other circumstances, I might well have played on her adoration, but the golf club is such a powerhouse of gossip, and Gillian will jump on any slip up. Extra-marital affairs on the doorstep are a definite No!
I check the row of optics, the clock and gaze around the room, anything to avoid eye contact.
“Hi Helen, the usual please, make it a large one.”
“Oh Rick darling, are you having a bad day?”
I run my fingers through my hair.
“It’s been one of those days for sure, angel. I need some space until the guys arrive; can we chat another time?”
I retreat to a table near the window, where the view of the gardens and koi ponds is pleasing to my eye. A gulp of the single malt rolls around my tongue, as I savour its peaty smokiness, by the time it hits my belly a warm glow is moving up my body. I check my Smartphone for messages. The lock screen shows a C symbol, meaning that there is at least one Word Crozzle game waiting to be played. I open the app and find several games waiting. Although none of my favourite ladies has played or left messages. I was hoping Christine might have played. She is such a gorgeous woman, but such a contradiction, intelligent, childish, and sensual. She arouses me so much that she easily drives me to distraction.
Sighing and frowning, I shrug just another irritation today. However playing the word game diverts my mind and helps me to relax. It has also become a gateway to meeting all sorts of new people including interesting women. A new diversion is called for, so I open Word Crozzle and request a new game, then make my plays on the other boards. May the Crozzle gods be kind to me with my opponent; heaven knows I need some kindness today.
With none of my mates around to talk to, I open Beat Messenger to send a few texts. I open my conversation with Christine, gazing at her avatar picture; I am blown away, again by her overall attractiveness. Not a classical beauty. Her face is too long, her nose a little pudgy but those huge grey eyes dominant her face, pools of liquid silver, and that mouth is so kissable, the whole is beyond lovely. I re-read yesterday’s conversation especially appreciating the picture she sent, and cannot help the arousal I feel.
R: ‘Hi baby I am looking at your picture wishing I was holding you in my arms right now.’
I hear a ping indicating a Crozzle game ready to play. It is my new random game, a female, blonde looking good in the thumbnail picture, Ruby Roxy. An intriguing name, it could be a hook to start a conversation. I play the first word. Brutal for a score of 49, which will test her as a player. Checking her game statistics, I see she has only been playing for 60 days. Opening the text box, I begin to type.
R: ‘Hi Ruby Roxy, my name is Rick and I am from Australia. I love the name. How did you choose it?’
Will she talk? People vary so much. Lots do not respond they play. Then there are the shades in between. I grin to myself, a new friendship, possibly more! The fun comes from the few that are willing to take it further. I love to chat to attractive women. I curse the drive in me for sexual conquests, my urge to bind women to me, my enjoyment in pleasing them. And the powerful surge to my ego when the chemistry works. A flaw in my character but I rationalise it by telling myself I am making women feel good, and cyber is less risky than real world dalliances. Win win for both.
Christine however is amazing and her professions of love are tugging at my heartstrings. I slump in my seat, close my eyes and let my thoughts drift. Christine lives in Aberdeen. We started playing Crozzle nine months ago. We talk every day, but lately we have argued a lot. It is getting me down; she is becoming possessive and jealous, although she is married with two teenage daughters and leads a busy life. It now seems she expects my adoration and admiration, constant attention, and craves intimacy. If I get angry and defensive she pulls back, and then she sends me an explicit picture and tells me she loves me. My soft centre melts and we are back on the merry go round. It was Christine who encouraged me to get Beat Messenger and led me into the cyber-sex arena.
Ever since, I have realised that I get a huge emotional boost from talking women to orgasm. It is even better if they share an intimate picture or two to arouse me. I shake myself; Christine is the first she is my favourite, but I now have the others too! I cannot afford to get emotionally involved with any of them. This was all just supposed to be fun.
I open my eyes and jerk upright as the phone vibrates on the table. I look at a reply from Ruby Roxy a pleasant diversion away from angry wives and demanding cyber mistresses.
E: ‘HI, Rick. My name is Eve and I live in London. You are in Australia – wow I hadn’t thought of playing with somebody so far away. Where do you live? What is the time difference?’
Her play on the board is shrewd, a good score, I think this lady is going to give me a good game.
R: ‘I live near Perth and I think we are 8 hours ahead of London. Do you like to chat as you play?’
E: ‘Yes, love to meet and talk to new people, and learning of new places. Tell me something about yourself. What should I call you, Rick, or do you prefer something else?’
Just as I am about to reply my friends arrive at the bar arrive in a confusion noise and laughter.
“Ok, it was a crappy back nine, but I birdied on the fourteenth, so stop griping Archie. You had the shanks so badly it’s a wonder we scored!”
“Hey lads, just what we got here? Ricky boy!” Joel the South African expat my normal partner, ambles across the room, his, nose wrinkled and eyes narrowed. “Hey, what happened man?”
“Oh man, an ugly run in with Gillian. Sorry but it was outside my control and it was no better as I stormed out.”
“Not so great buddy.” Joel grimaces, shrugs and drops into a nearby chair. “There was trouble with us on the course too I missed more shots than I hit and Archie was way off form, so that’s a game we lost. John has gone home in a huff! I see you are consoling yourself with a malt and cyber shenanigans.”
Joel has been a good friend for many years now. We confide in each other about most things. There is always of barbed but good-natured banter between us.
“I know, Joel, storming out was not the wisest move it was easier than saying things I might regret later. The malt is certainly hitting the spot and I am just playing Crozzle, nothing more sinister! Although I have just started a game with Ruby Roxy from England and she looks cool.”
I hand over the phone to Joel so he can see the thumbnail picture. He meets my eyes, nods, winks and grins. Peter joins us and leans over Joel’s shoulder.
He says. “Wow, nice looking chick; what’s this about?”
“She is one of twenty people I play, in an on-line game similar to Scrabble. They are from all over the world. You choose who you play more than once. I enjoy the ones who chat in the text column. If you turn on a bit of charm, you wouldn’t believe how intimate it can get. From there, if you hit it off, you can advance to a chat room, trade pictures and videos, or even Skype each other. It can become a time consuming hobby!”
Pete says. “Jeez sounds dangerous. Hope you keep it protected from Gillian.”
“Yes I do!” I grin then add. “It can become very addictive.” I wink. “Every time you’re horny, you talk to one of your fantasy cyber chicks. I have a few on the go; they have even shared pussy pictures, the works.” I flash him sight of a few. Pete’s eyes widen he gasps, shakes his head in amazement and lapses into thought for a minute stunned.
Before he can comment further Archie arrives with a tray of glasses moans about his woes at the fifth hole and the talk turns to the vagaries of the match. I sip my drink, sink back in the chair, put my Smartphone on the table, and join in the dissection of the game. I pay nodding acknowledgement but having missed the outing, find it boring.
My phone pings and vibrates on the table several times, and I pick it up and check my messages. An email from my wife saying forget dinner, stay out, I am going to the gym is waiting in my inbox. No softening there then. There are also Crozzle games to play and a Beat icon. I flick to the Crozzle site. Ah another play and a message from Ruby Roxy. I read the message, ignoring Joel’s sardonic stare, however, decide to reply later.
E: ‘I became Ruby Roxy because Roxy is my alter ego and I love rubies so it was a good name at the time! lol.’
I check Beat. It is Christine. My heart thumps in my chest, my eyes widen. The cyber chat and sex were supposed to be fun but emotions are running high between us. I am drawn to, this clever and beautiful woman. Who is unhappy with the way her husband takes her for granted, but still committed to her teenage kids. She is such a contradiction, her neediness and paranoia with commitment, warring with her quest to be loved totally. She is searching for somebody to heal her problems. Her addiction to rock music, make her everything a younger me was looking for in a woman which is then pitted against her charm, sensuality and wit that speaks to the man I am now. My feelings may have crossed the boundary between cyber and real life relationships. I am improvising, trying to pull back, but Christine is playing me so well, that although I know this is a fantasy scenario, it no longer feels like one. I put my phone down and save her texts until I can concentrate on her to the exclusion of other things..
The boys are winding up, about to go their separate ways. I reengage fully, assure them I will make the next golf session and then consider my options for the evening. Joel gets up, stretches, and claps me on the shoulder.
“Catch you later boet, get home and make peace with Gillian. Lots of pressure on you to play the game of your life next week, you owe me.” He grins. “Talk to you later. Come on Archie let us get you home. Ciao.”
“OK, Joel, point taken. Drive safe. Will keep you up to date with new developments.”
Pete grins. “Me too Rick, I want to know more of your ladies and what gives.”
He lifts his hand as they decamp from the bar.
I decide to go home; picking up a takeaway on the way, as food is obviously off the agenda tonight.
Before I leave the club, I reply to Ruby Roxy.
R: ‘Really nice to meet you, angel, Rick is fine. I am a financial advisor in Perth; I love sport-used to play rugby. My main exercise is golf, although I love extreme sports, scuba, parachuting and extreme hiking I am a bit of an adventure junkie! I love word games too. I am in the reserve of the Australian Army and do certain training and deployment sets with two Para. I am heavily into rock music and adore opera; it is perfect to chill too! And you, what are your interests? I want to find out more about you as we play Crozzle. Off to get a take away.’
I leave the club, managing to avoid conversation with Helen. I walk towards my car, wincing at my parking. As I get in, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Another message from Ruby Roxy.
E: ‘I work as a freelance physiotherapist in Occupational Medicine. I am a couch potato. Who should know better. I read, I love novels for escapism. I dabble in poetry, but life has been a little in the way lately. I love music, balm to my soul, rock, folk, and classical. But I am not a great opera buff so don’t expect a great discourse on opera from me. Enjoy your takeaway. Talk soon.’
Relaxed and smiling I drive towards home.
August 18, 2016
Out in the mist?
That ideal relationship just out of reach
The kind that all the songs and prophets preach
Have I just got scales in my eyes
Stopped seeing the best,the love in the guy
Has it just got layered in dust
Melded down with a covering of rust
I assume that I know all there is to know
Stopped seeing the sparks and caring so
Have my expectations got in the way
That he does the running I just sway
That ideal relationship just out of reach
Maybe it’s there if I just unleash
The ideal relationship does it exist
Here and now or out in the mist
August 17, 2016
Exploring ideas
Sometimes we explore all realms of being
All topics open its totally freeing
Trust that binds us allows for sharing
All ideas pondered our ideas not sparing
Expression lands us raw and intense
Ideas unlocked excitingly immense
August 16, 2016
Do we learn
Do we ever really learn
The difference between, the need to hold out a hand
Or clutching someone’s heart in a vicelike band
The fluidity of trust
Is better than iron resolve, that doesnt flex and rusts
That we all need space
Love doesn’t mean shackles tightly in place
Unthinking actions will cause hurt
How ever much someone cares, some things are cursed
How ever hard we love
Some people are not in the same grove
Do we ever really learn
To learn lessons from yesterday
Not get mired in despair let misery hold sway
Do we ever learn
To live life at its best?
Meteor
Syntillating Sparks coalesce in the sky
Meteor Showers, dust motes that fly
Laying on the ground as the show unfolds
Gasping in wonder as the clouds erode
image Alex Paul.
Floating
Floating on fantasy, with my head in the clouds
Drifting, detached, drowning aroused
Cumulus clouds, capture and create
Shapes of desire, in the stratosphere communicate
Images burning bright within
Drawing ever closer to touch warm skin
Dreamscape running the dialogue primed
Holding the images close in my mind
Floating on fantasy, with my head in the clouds
Sleeping deeply, dreams within.
