04-25-2020 04:37 pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning Jamie, the Walnuts, and the Pool read ( words) "Throughout any given day, my head runs through many permutations of the main subjects that have taken over life since the girl at the car wash (or Marci, or the first server, or possibly something else but I do not remember). The dreams come and go, I see a woman or more than one on the television or out in the world -- usually the more striking examples are on the screen, though -- and whatever I see will stay in there for a while depending upon the manner in which I see her. Two days ago I saw a commercial for walnuts, of all things, and a young woman sitting at the dining table with her mother. They were having a conversation. What struck me was the angle of the camera approaching the table, which was from a three-quarter behind the left side of the woman. Forward a bit, and then the shot's perspective changed to a back-and-forth between their faces for the discussion of the girl's new tattoo. The whole thing is rather funny and outlines the difference in generations. Very light, simple, effective, cute. Ok, where is the problem? Well, as the viewer's perspective is pushed toward the table, the younger of the two is outlined beautifully. And when I say that? It's bad. Like... I could throw away everything I have in the world and keep one video device just to watch her over and over as the camera moves until I run out of either breath or battery. And I wish that was funny. The woman is so stunningly well formed and matches every single fucking descriptive term I can find in my mental file cabinet that the entire affair has slowed the process of my daily life. Yes, the two reporters on the local news are gorgeous, two others on the national network are stunning, and there are a few thrown in here and there just for posterity. Some working, others being interviewed, but all very attractive from the mid-torso up. Unfortunately, the commercial has taken the proverbial cake. This one is very bad. A new realization has arisen which goes all the way back to Las Vegas last summer. Not good, and I have been battling my own sense of survival over analyzing something that has slammed me in the space of two days. The angle of the approaching camera kills me from the inside. Considering everything that has been piled inside my tired head throughout years of searching and researching, this has now pushed most of it away. The camera moves toward the table, only slightly, before the shot changes. In those seconds, we see her knees together, narrow waist, olive skin, slender left arm with one elbow on the table, and very long, brown hair all wavy and gorgeous. The entire section of the ad goes by very quickly and I had to rehash the thing many times before realizing what I was seeing. Unbelievable, and just a quick little commercial that has nothing to do with her appearance aside from the tattoo which is discussed. But holy Jesus God in heaven above, those few seconds have transformed the manner in which I consider and have considered the rare beauty sought for years. Decades. Whatever. A few viewings and I am head-over-heels for the look and have realized that other situations in the past were exceedingly difficult for reasons I had not considered at the time. Yep, this is different. Very different. The first thing I did was take note of the commercial and research it as soon as I had the time. Soon after? Captured still images, the entire video saved to a folder of similar media, and me scrutinizing the color level and exposure of each of the four images to get some detail. Yep, that is me. That is what I do and what I have become. I am very pleased that the young beauty came across the screen and allowed me to see yet another image of form which I quickly filed away. I am glad this took place because otherwise I do not know how much time could have passed before the realization set in that I have not seen. It is now illuminated and in the forefront of my existence. Walnuts, of all things. There have been others which did not hit me like this. The woman in the Joss & Main ad from a year ago, some of the insurance commercials (mostly split-second views and nothing consequential), and the occasional still image out there in the world staring back at me as I marvel at the loveliness. The syndrome was there during those events and is wider now. If that girl had not run past my eyes the other day, I may not have thought of everything in this manner. None of the other ads pushed me so much, and a couple were unreal. Where they find these fucking women I will never know (and even if I did know, I would never be allowed near. Heh). Yes, I am glad she was there at the right time and looking like every single word I have uttered in years. Now? The doors are wide open and awaiting another slew of shit from me. This latest turn of my brain has also brought another situation to mind that I have placed on a shelf for months. Wanna guess? The girls at the pool. Yes, them. Barely mentioned, but still there, and now more important for other reasons. I will get to that. Why now? I have enough going on Why aren't the images of the girl here, you ask? I cannot do that without discussing crediting and permission with the ad agency. Besides, referencing her here is not important. I will never know the 'why' and 'how' of these issues, unless some of it is my own fault due to diving into whatever is bad for me. Is there any method for measuring that? Heh. The girl stirred me immediately and upon a second viewing pressed a button inside that reminded me of suppressed feelings last summer. And to extend the whole shit show even further, the girls at the pool and what took place inside my head upon seeing their skin brought me way back to the early nineties and a car dealership near my home. A salesperson, her red dress, and a flood of thoughts and feelings I did not understand at the time. After all these years without thinking about her, all of it has returned. The need to know faded but is back with force. The walnut girl triggered a storm inside me that has not taken place in nearly three decades. Remember issues one through four? Well, you know all about one if you have read here at all. This is it, but more. Much more. And I am partially thrown for a loop because of it. I even turned off the news a bit ago so the reporters do not shift my thinking. Oh I saw her once already, and that is the reason for the change. There is enough going on inside me now. I do not need anything else to force my sense into jumping ship. What is the issue? That is a tough one, even for my keyboard. In the previous entry regarding the girl I saw so many years ago (twice!), I mentioned the lack of emotional response while gazing at her unique beauty. [And don't fucking give me a blast of shit over the focus upon her breasts in that essay, either.] I stared as long as the situation permitted before driving away. The entire time was spent focused upon the way she looked in the afternoon sun, but at no time did I feel desire toward her. Nothing. My thinking was about numbers, ratios, and other terms as they applied to her gorgeous body. I did not understand very much of the draw back then, and there is merely little more now, but the fact is I was trying to calculate why she was attractive. As I have stated before, the idea of the now-dead project related to this was to learn where those numbers could go -- or how far they could be pushed -- before the woman became either unattractive or an anomaly. I considered her look for days and then weeks before noting that something triggered the mathematical curiosity within. At no time did I want her. Not at all. Strange? I don't know whether it is or not. But desire did not take place. The walnut girl. Well, to put it clearly, as soon as I viewed that commercial a few more times, I wanted to jump her shit like nothing else. And the slender nature of her body brought me flashes of the girls at the pool. If I were in the same area and situation at this moment, I would be going out of my mind with desire. Picturing those sisters in their string-thongs and thigh gaps is driving me insane. The walnut girl, too. I see her arm, her waist, those legs paired, and my head is fucked. The ones at the pool last year? Holy Jesus fuck in a fucking bra cup, they were straight out of my brain in every conceivable way and the appearance of all that skin wrapping such forms is just not something I expect to see again. I still want them. And this has not happened before. I do not know which way to turn. I keep looking at the still image of her long hair and want to shove all of her into my mouth. There it is. Physical desire. For the first time since trying to deeply analyze my issue of obsessing over the female form, the idea of this hurts. Never before. Why now? She is young, naturally, but I fail to see why this type of thing entered my head now. I have not thought of these examples by way of their age, but I guess young is young. The sisters at the pool were years apart, I believe, and I will admit that the younger of the two was much more aligned with my imagery and thought. Again, young. But keep in mind that one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen is three years my senior. Shove that in your pipe and smoke it. That's right, I don't get it either. Age? That does not matter. I hope this does not turn into something horrible, though. And then there is the other one that I rarely mention. As much as I felt for Jamie's character throughout life of that role, nothing like that ever entered my mind. Not even when she was beautifully gyrating in lingerie during the beginning of the second half of season six. If something was going to take place to make me want her, that would have been it. I was already smitten with her big, doe eyes, but what I wished for most was to simply sit across the table from her and stare. That was all. Even now, with me all up in arms and fucked over because of a combination of the walnut girl and those at the pool last summer, and after I just spent fifteen minutes seeking high-resolution images showing off her facial beauty, I still feel the same. One of those images is below. Jamie should be filed under beauty in every fucking encyclopedia. I will not go on all day about her because you probably get the point. The woman grew up to be something I will never forget. The girls at the pool are another matter entirely. They share one similarity with Jamie and the walnut beauty... I know nothing of them and never will, unless there is some odd turn of events. Very unlikely, that one. So, I know nothing. Jamie is an actor, the pool sisters were two people enjoying the sun and water, and the walnut loveliness is the same... No one I will ever know or be near. The only one of the four which holds more than that is Jamie. I was in love with her character throughout the long sixth season, but keep in mind that was fiction. The woman herself is a mystery. A gorgeous mystery, for sure, but still just a person I do not know. There is still no desire there beyond a handshake and some recognition of her prowess on the screen. Nothing. The sisters? They are rolling around in my head after eight months have passed and still slinking around in those nearly nonexistent swimsuits. I can see them angling for a lounge chair, standing from time to time and stepping into the water for a bit, and then repositioning on the chairs as my eyes melted. I could not believe that during one of the most frightfully weak periods in my recent issue-laden life, those two strolled into the pool area, dropped the wraps, and proceeded to redefine what I viewed as a still-image life through which I had trod, relegated to seeing nothing more than a two-dimensional world that eluded me like nothing else. They were right there, and there was fascination, staring, dreaming, yearning to see everything, however there was no fucking desire to be physical. None. That was next to me in spades. Right at this moment? I want them. Everything. Everywhere. And I don't know why. Eight months have passed, I just saw Jamie and her goddess features in high definition on the massive television, the walnut girl floated around inside, and suddenly the need arose. Not Jamie, but the three others. Something fucking changed inside my head and I not only have no idea of what to do, but I am frightened of what is coming next. I might be in deeper shit than ever before. And I think I fell in love with Jamie years ago. The eyes that define beauty I was just thinking about the fact that I left my camera at home during the trip to Vegas. The idea of my massive zoom sitting above the pool in one of the rooms and pointing down at the thighs of those girls would have accomplished two things: One, images by the ton of their beauty, and two, I probably would have been seen by another guest in the opposite tower and tossed from the resort after being labeled with any number of fucking terms. Heh. I am going to have to think deeply about this development and try to understand. This is something which has the ability to destroy either me or others who know me, so the effort is already underway. Of course, I could just keep my mouth shut and hands off the keyboard and no one would know otherwise. But being who I am (some would state 'who I MUST be'), the analysis is tossed to the four winds and out there because I have no alternate outlet for the shit in my head. I just hope the wrong person does not run across this and take issue with my words. That would be funny and scary at the same time. 'Wow, someone was following along?' Nope. Not likely, but there nonetheless. This is enough of a development to shake me deeply. And I am looking at Sofia Milos on the television but there is nothing... No desire whatsoever despite the fact that she exudes about as much sexuality as is possible from one woman. Nothing. Why? Is the walnut girl different somehow? And the sisters at the pool, not a feeling in hell back then, but now I want to swallow them whole? I don't get it at all. I do not remember dreaming of anything like this recently. Most of my dreams that I do remember are related to past work, cars, family, or any number of random occurrences that go nowhere, or at least went nowhere at the time. I do recall one acquaintance of mine appearing in an elaborate dream for whatever reason, and we were engaged in lots of sexual activity and flirting at every step. I had always thought of her as gorgeous, sexy, whatever, but also like a sister. She is closely related to another woman -- equally full of everything imaginable -- also like a sister. Why she was all over me in a dream is a mystery. Dreams are different, and interpretations go all around the world in seconds. The girls at the pool have not been subjects of my dreams that I know of, and showed up as desirable only after the fucking commercial. As interesting as this may seem, I may never learn of why it happened now. The walnut girl appears to be a teenager (judging by the subject of the ad) and that opens yet another box of worry inside. Again, I know not why. And moreso? Why now? Nope, nothing. No insight. Part way into 'Flip' I mentioned the girl that I spied one morning in the dark and in a shopping center close to home. That was also the entry in which the pool girls were mentioned as they related to what I felt when the woman walked directly in front of our headlights and I saw a clear picture of her face and shape. The urge to describe her was strong, so I jotted down what I could recall as time permitted. The girls in their tiny thongs at the pool may have been the last time I felt that way upon sight. I don't know, but it makes sense that I related the two occasions. Well, I do not remember the girl in the early morning as she stepped close, but I do see the bodies of those two by the pool. Somewhat. They are impossible to describe at this point, although that probably doesn't matter anymore. Eight months have passed and the images fade. I mentioned them last year due to the sight that morning. I mention them now because something changed. Time will tell if I can correlate those fucking goddesses with the walnut girl. One little positive? I do not know of her name... Yet. If you know me at all, you already realize that she will be scrutinized very soon. Looking up there at Jamie again, maybe I still feel the same. Her face is such that there are no longer words. She is a person, above all things, and just happens to be the very embodiment of female physical attractiveness. The more I look, the less I understand. No desire there, still. None at all. Just appreciation and a dumbfounded feeling. She does not compute. I wish I knew why this happened now. All the fucking way back to the salesperson at the dealer so many years ago, and flash forward to this morning. What the fuck goes on in my head? And there is Oksana Lada, all five-foot-nine of her beauty and nonexistent stomach. Anything? Nope... Still no desire despite all her smooth skin and unbelievably-shaped breasts. Fucking nothing. Twenty-three years old at the time, gorgeous beyond comprehension, formed as a representation of all I find appealing and unique, but I do not have a smidgen of feeling for her in that direction. All fucked up. Maybe this grew out of the imagery. Maybe? Has there been too much and all of it finally caught up with me? I'm beginning to feel that the attempt to analyze any genesis is futile. I may never truly know, and that is tough to swallow. Hmm... Swallow. There is that word again which I have used to describe so much desire. Does it fit? A little? I just looked at the way the camera approaches that little tidbit called the walnut girl, and perhaps she was just the tip of an enormous iceberg, or some sort of weight like others describe as finally breaking the camel's back. Either way, the feeling arrived and will not leave. Unwelcome, unwanted, unfulfilled... Just like the passion. That machine appeared to me randomly, took my brain and wrung it out in the worst way, and has left me ruined of wristwatches for all time. I let that thing have enough power to fuck me up for good. The obsession has more power and has controlled me for years. This new development in my lack of understanding has the power to kill me in several ways. The walnut girl is an actor, like Jamie, and appeared unannounced on my huge television screen, after which I researched and fell down. I always do that. The resources are there to learn about anything or anyone and I am compelled to use them. She is formed such that all choice is removed. My lifestyle dictates the decision to seek. Well, I sought. And now I want more. That is just dead fucking wrong. The question remains and I have already railroaded it several times in the space of one entry. God knows where this will lead and I have the sinking feeling the destination is going to be destructive. Pool girl? God damn Jesus fucking hell, anyway. I am having difficulty looking at that image of Jamie up there. Do you see? Beyond description, defying interpretation, she is the highest form of facial beauty. The more I look, well... You know. Just fucking look at her. Unbelievable and I am losing my head over the image. Ok, stop it this minute. Too much, idiot. Stop. Now. I stepped out into the sun for a cigarette and began to imagine what could very well take place if I had run across the pool sisters after feeling this way. There are infinite possibilities. Or maybe none. I might have simply froze for a moment, stared, and then ran off. I have done that before but not with the desire spinning me into a tornado. As I sit here in front of this infernal machine, I know that the latter is the most likely scenario. I am a decent person, all things considered, and I would not intrude upon another person's life out of the need to connect. That is no longer a part of my personality. The dreams of them all over me are another matter entirely. Still wrong, but perfectly natural. I am certain others do the same thing and just let it go. The world is filled with attractive people and up to this point I only saw them in one light. The walnut girl, the pool sisters, the whatever-may-come-next? I cannot answer for that yet. Right now, my brain is becoming overloaded with the need to understand combined with dreams of everything I cannot and should not pursue. Wow. I am going too far with this shit. Important, yes, but I need to stop. When my head goes back into last summer and the three visits to the pool during that week, I think of one aspect of being there first: Grasshoppers. They were everywhere, the two of us having arrived on the tail end of a huge swarm that moved through the city. That is a lot of area, too. The little guys were floating in the pool only to be avoided as we moved around the cool water. Others were there from time to time, but due to the excessive heat, I believe many avoided the adult pools in favor of keeping cool. The other side of that situation was the pool directly below our window which was for families with children. Until the thunderstorm arrived, that area was very busy. Our only choice for some peace and quiet was to head to the other end of the property to one of the pools geared toward adults. Three visits, with the middle one being the day of the thong throng. The grasshoppers were everywhere and paid no mind. I believe that was one of the very few occasions in which I had those types of forms directly before me -- at times right next to me, depending upon how the others moved around the pool area -- without being intimately familiar. As I recall the woman right next to me, I felt nothing aside from support and her loving manner. She cared, worried, and helped me to relax and enjoy the day without falling through the cement. Our conversations leading up to that wonderful week showed me that the understanding and compassion were always there no matter my difficulty. By the pool, those two girls strolled in with their parents and upon losing their coverings to sun themselves, and no sooner did I see far too much, but next to me was an almost immediate response wishing me well. There was nothing to worry about, really, because the focus of the trip was our enjoyment and in the space of a week the two sisters from beyond represented the only real difficulty despite the location. And in the months since arriving home after that trip? I have written very few words in their direction. Thus, now... The desire and dreams. The walnut girl could not possibly have the ability to allow my mind to wander excessively. I cannot believe that. The only other possibility would be that the need to swallow them had been somehow suppressed (not likely, but who knows?) due to the company next to me at the time, and months later it catalyzed. The walnut girl? Hmm... The pool goddesses were radically different, older, and almost completely uncovered from a clothing standpoint. Nearly fucking nude. My head tried to gather information back then but I eventually gave up on it due to having a bit of difficulty trying to comprehend just why the numbers and information had become so dire. This fucking desire has come out of left field and I cannot figure it out. Yes, the walnut girl is gorgeous and carries all the shit over which I have agonized, and I have no idea how many times such a find has taken place. The pool? They were beyond words. Now? I hardly remember. The dream? Maybe. Nope That is Mercedes up there in the last two images. She reminds me of those two swimsuit-clad beauties all those months ago. And yes, she is the same Mercedes from way back in fifteen when my ill-advised exploration of this topic began. Looking at her face? No desire. Again, I would love to have a conversation with her and stare at that face, but beyond that I do not want more. Just knowing her would be wonderful. Jamie? Nope. I already went into that. The walnut girl? Dessert in jeans. The girls in the thongs last year? The same... Just overwhelmingly pulling at me and I do not know why. Had I been alone on that trip things may have gone vastly different. Probably wrong, but I don't know. These days the idea of approaching a woman to discuss my interest feels different than years ago when I had the business cards made. The idea is frightening and I killed the project out of a deep fear. So, being alone at that pool -- and to go further, let's imagine no one else around -- and seeing those forms right there nearly sans clothing? I have no doubt that I would have packed up my shit and left for the room. Oh, I'm certain the next step would have been showering, changing, and running across the street to sit at the fucking bar. I would have said nothing to either of them. No way. Too scary, and likely unwanted. Unwarranted? No... It's fine. Just unwanted. They were there to relax. And there is no way of knowing what a response might be without an attempt. I would not do anything. But one other thing comes to mind. At the time, my head blew up because of their appearance and the fact that I was not accustomed to being exposed to such beauty or skin in person. Three-dimensional women just did not cross my path dressed as such. Of course, I do not spend time at pools or spas anymore, so the likelihood has been nil anyway, but the fact remains that I did not look upon their features with sexual desire until the other morning. And it was fucking strong, as in visions of snapping my fingers and being right back there on that Goddamned lounger not thirty feet from dreams. I am so fucked up over this that my mornings are turning into continuous efforts in search of understanding. Jesus Harold Christ, did those two women look amazing. I still can't believe they were there. Ok, the point has been sharpened enough. And there went another woman in a commercial. Fuck me in the eyes. At least the reporter hasn't shown up as of yet. I don't need that, but will stare anyway because I am fucked up that way. The walnut commercial has got to be more than I am seeing. Or, maybe something else took place that I am not remembering and the commercial came along at the right moment. Either way, I still have no insight. The fact is that my thinking has changed toward more than one subject and the analysis is going to drive me to drink. Heh. A very short trip, that one. Anyway, another day has gone by and I am thinking of what may be ahead this morning. They are still in there -- those two goddesses in strings -- and the desire is still there. The walnut girl is also floating in circles causing me to think far too much. Do I still want her after a couple of days? Yep, more than ever. I am becoming worried. As I stated above, this has never happened to me and somehow relates to the situation within which I have been mired for years. There are no answers." 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04-25-2020 04:37 pdt If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning Jamie, the Walnuts, and the Pool read ( words) "Throughout any given day, my head runs through many permutations of the main subjects that have taken over life since the girl at the car wash (or Marci, or the first server, or possibly something else but I do not remember). The dreams come and go, I see a woman or more than one on the television or out in the world -- usually the more striking examples are on the screen, though -- and whatever I see will stay in there for a while depending upon the manner in which I see her. Two days ago I saw a commercial for walnuts, of all things, and a young woman sitting at the dining table with her mother. They were having a conversation. What struck me was the angle of the camera approaching the table, which was from a three-quarter behind the left side of the woman. Forward a bit, and then the shot's perspective changed to a back-and-forth between their faces for the discussion of the girl's new tattoo. The whole thing is rather funny and outlines the difference in generations. Very light, simple, effective, cute. Ok, where is the problem? Well, as the viewer's perspective is pushed toward the table, the younger of the two is outlined beautifully. And when I say that? It's bad. Like... I could throw away everything I have in the world and keep one video device just to watch her over and over as the camera moves until I run out of either breath or battery. And I wish that was funny. The woman is so stunningly well formed and matches every single fucking descriptive term I can find in my mental file cabinet that the entire affair has slowed the process of my daily life. Yes, the two reporters on the local news are gorgeous, two others on the national network are stunning, and there are a few thrown in here and there just for posterity. Some working, others being interviewed, but all very attractive from the mid-torso up. Unfortunately, the commercial has taken the proverbial cake. This one is very bad. A new realization has arisen which goes all the way back to Las Vegas last summer. Not good, and I have been battling my own sense of survival over analyzing something that has slammed me in the space of two days. The angle of the approaching camera kills me from the inside. Considering everything that has been piled inside my tired head throughout years of searching and researching, this has now pushed most of it away. The camera moves toward the table, only slightly, before the shot changes. In those seconds, we see her knees together, narrow waist, olive skin, slender left arm with one elbow on the table, and very long, brown hair all wavy and gorgeous. The entire section of the ad goes by very quickly and I had to rehash the thing many times before realizing what I was seeing. Unbelievable, and just a quick little commercial that has nothing to do with her appearance aside from the tattoo which is discussed. But holy Jesus God in heaven above, those few seconds have transformed the manner in which I consider and have considered the rare beauty sought for years. Decades. Whatever. A few viewings and I am head-over-heels for the look and have realized that other situations in the past were exceedingly difficult for reasons I had not considered at the time. Yep, this is different. Very different. The first thing I did was take note of the commercial and research it as soon as I had the time. Soon after? Captured still images, the entire video saved to a folder of similar media, and me scrutinizing the color level and exposure of each of the four images to get some detail. Yep, that is me. That is what I do and what I have become. I am very pleased that the young beauty came across the screen and allowed me to see yet another image of form which I quickly filed away. I am glad this took place because otherwise I do not know how much time could have passed before the realization set in that I have not seen. It is now illuminated and in the forefront of my existence. Walnuts, of all things. There have been others which did not hit me like this. The woman in the Joss & Main ad from a year ago, some of the insurance commercials (mostly split-second views and nothing consequential), and the occasional still image out there in the world staring back at me as I marvel at the loveliness. The syndrome was there during those events and is wider now. If that girl had not run past my eyes the other day, I may not have thought of everything in this manner. None of the other ads pushed me so much, and a couple were unreal. Where they find these fucking women I will never know (and even if I did know, I would never be allowed near. Heh). Yes, I am glad she was there at the right time and looking like every single word I have uttered in years. Now? The doors are wide open and awaiting another slew of shit from me. This latest turn of my brain has also brought another situation to mind that I have placed on a shelf for months. Wanna guess? The girls at the pool. Yes, them. Barely mentioned, but still there, and now more important for other reasons. I will get to that. Why now? I have enough going on Why aren't the images of the girl here, you ask? I cannot do that without discussing crediting and permission with the ad agency. Besides, referencing her here is not important. I will never know the 'why' and 'how' of these issues, unless some of it is my own fault due to diving into whatever is bad for me. Is there any method for measuring that? Heh. The girl stirred me immediately and upon a second viewing pressed a button inside that reminded me of suppressed feelings last summer. And to extend the whole shit show even further, the girls at the pool and what took place inside my head upon seeing their skin brought me way back to the early nineties and a car dealership near my home. A salesperson, her red dress, and a flood of thoughts and feelings I did not understand at the time. After all these years without thinking about her, all of it has returned. The need to know faded but is back with force. The walnut girl triggered a storm inside me that has not taken place in nearly three decades. Remember issues one through four? Well, you know all about one if you have read here at all. This is it, but more. Much more. And I am partially thrown for a loop because of it. I even turned off the news a bit ago so the reporters do not shift my thinking. Oh I saw her once already, and that is the reason for the change. There is enough going on inside me now. I do not need anything else to force my sense into jumping ship. What is the issue? That is a tough one, even for my keyboard. In the previous entry regarding the girl I saw so many years ago (twice!), I mentioned the lack of emotional response while gazing at her unique beauty. [And don't fucking give me a blast of shit over the focus upon her breasts in that essay, either.] I stared as long as the situation permitted before driving away. The entire time was spent focused upon the way she looked in the afternoon sun, but at no time did I feel desire toward her. Nothing. My thinking was about numbers, ratios, and other terms as they applied to her gorgeous body. I did not understand very much of the draw back then, and there is merely little more now, but the fact is I was trying to calculate why she was attractive. As I have stated before, the idea of the now-dead project related to this was to learn where those numbers could go -- or how far they could be pushed -- before the woman became either unattractive or an anomaly. I considered her look for days and then weeks before noting that something triggered the mathematical curiosity within. At no time did I want her. Not at all. Strange? I don't know whether it is or not. But desire did not take place. The walnut girl. Well, to put it clearly, as soon as I viewed that commercial a few more times, I wanted to jump her shit like nothing else. And the slender nature of her body brought me flashes of the girls at the pool. If I were in the same area and situation at this moment, I would be going out of my mind with desire. Picturing those sisters in their string-thongs and thigh gaps is driving me insane. The walnut girl, too. I see her arm, her waist, those legs paired, and my head is fucked. The ones at the pool last year? Holy Jesus fuck in a fucking bra cup, they were straight out of my brain in every conceivable way and the appearance of all that skin wrapping such forms is just not something I expect to see again. I still want them. And this has not happened before. I do not know which way to turn. I keep looking at the still image of her long hair and want to shove all of her into my mouth. There it is. Physical desire. For the first time since trying to deeply analyze my issue of obsessing over the female form, the idea of this hurts. Never before. Why now? She is young, naturally, but I fail to see why this type of thing entered my head now. I have not thought of these examples by way of their age, but I guess young is young. The sisters at the pool were years apart, I believe, and I will admit that the younger of the two was much more aligned with my imagery and thought. Again, young. But keep in mind that one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen is three years my senior. Shove that in your pipe and smoke it. That's right, I don't get it either. Age? That does not matter. I hope this does not turn into something horrible, though. And then there is the other one that I rarely mention. As much as I felt for Jamie's character throughout life of that role, nothing like that ever entered my mind. Not even when she was beautifully gyrating in lingerie during the beginning of the second half of season six. If something was going to take place to make me want her, that would have been it. I was already smitten with her big, doe eyes, but what I wished for most was to simply sit across the table from her and stare. That was all. Even now, with me all up in arms and fucked over because of a combination of the walnut girl and those at the pool last summer, and after I just spent fifteen minutes seeking high-resolution images showing off her facial beauty, I still feel the same. One of those images is below. Jamie should be filed under beauty in every fucking encyclopedia. I will not go on all day about her because you probably get the point. The woman grew up to be something I will never forget. The girls at the pool are another matter entirely. They share one similarity with Jamie and the walnut beauty... I know nothing of them and never will, unless there is some odd turn of events. Very unlikely, that one. So, I know nothing. Jamie is an actor, the pool sisters were two people enjoying the sun and water, and the walnut loveliness is the same... No one I will ever know or be near. The only one of the four which holds more than that is Jamie. I was in love with her character throughout the long sixth season, but keep in mind that was fiction. The woman herself is a mystery. A gorgeous mystery, for sure, but still just a person I do not know. There is still no desire there beyond a handshake and some recognition of her prowess on the screen. Nothing. The sisters? They are rolling around in my head after eight months have passed and still slinking around in those nearly nonexistent swimsuits. I can see them angling for a lounge chair, standing from time to time and stepping into the water for a bit, and then repositioning on the chairs as my eyes melted. I could not believe that during one of the most frightfully weak periods in my recent issue-laden life, those two strolled into the pool area, dropped the wraps, and proceeded to redefine what I viewed as a still-image life through which I had trod, relegated to seeing nothing more than a two-dimensional world that eluded me like nothing else. They were right there, and there was fascination, staring, dreaming, yearning to see everything, however there was no fucking desire to be physical. None. That was next to me in spades. Right at this moment? I want them. Everything. Everywhere. And I don't know why. Eight months have passed, I just saw Jamie and her goddess features in high definition on the massive television, the walnut girl floated around inside, and suddenly the need arose. Not Jamie, but the three others. Something fucking changed inside my head and I not only have no idea of what to do, but I am frightened of what is coming next. I might be in deeper shit than ever before. And I think I fell in love with Jamie years ago. The eyes that define beauty I was just thinking about the fact that I left my camera at home during the trip to Vegas. The idea of my massive zoom sitting above the pool in one of the rooms and pointing down at the thighs of those girls would have accomplished two things: One, images by the ton of their beauty, and two, I probably would have been seen by another guest in the opposite tower and tossed from the resort after being labeled with any number of fucking terms. Heh. I am going to have to think deeply about this development and try to understand. This is something which has the ability to destroy either me or others who know me, so the effort is already underway. Of course, I could just keep my mouth shut and hands off the keyboard and no one would know otherwise. But being who I am (some would state 'who I MUST be'), the analysis is tossed to the four winds and out there because I have no alternate outlet for the shit in my head. I just hope the wrong person does not run across this and take issue with my words. That would be funny and scary at the same time. 'Wow, someone was following along?' Nope. Not likely, but there nonetheless. This is enough of a development to shake me deeply. And I am looking at Sofia Milos on the television but there is nothing... No desire whatsoever despite the fact that she exudes about as much sexuality as is possible from one woman. Nothing. Why? Is the walnut girl different somehow? And the sisters at the pool, not a feeling in hell back then, but now I want to swallow them whole? I don't get it at all. I do not remember dreaming of anything like this recently. Most of my dreams that I do remember are related to past work, cars, family, or any number of random occurrences that go nowhere, or at least went nowhere at the time. I do recall one acquaintance of mine appearing in an elaborate dream for whatever reason, and we were engaged in lots of sexual activity and flirting at every step. I had always thought of her as gorgeous, sexy, whatever, but also like a sister. She is closely related to another woman -- equally full of everything imaginable -- also like a sister. Why she was all over me in a dream is a mystery. Dreams are different, and interpretations go all around the world in seconds. The girls at the pool have not been subjects of my dreams that I know of, and showed up as desirable only after the fucking commercial. As interesting as this may seem, I may never learn of why it happened now. The walnut girl appears to be a teenager (judging by the subject of the ad) and that opens yet another box of worry inside. Again, I know not why. And moreso? Why now? Nope, nothing. No insight. Part way into 'Flip' I mentioned the girl that I spied one morning in the dark and in a shopping center close to home. That was also the entry in which the pool girls were mentioned as they related to what I felt when the woman walked directly in front of our headlights and I saw a clear picture of her face and shape. The urge to describe her was strong, so I jotted down what I could recall as time permitted. The girls in their tiny thongs at the pool may have been the last time I felt that way upon sight. I don't know, but it makes sense that I related the two occasions. Well, I do not remember the girl in the early morning as she stepped close, but I do see the bodies of those two by the pool. Somewhat. They are impossible to describe at this point, although that probably doesn't matter anymore. Eight months have passed and the images fade. I mentioned them last year due to the sight that morning. I mention them now because something changed. Time will tell if I can correlate those fucking goddesses with the walnut girl. One little positive? I do not know of her name... Yet. If you know me at all, you already realize that she will be scrutinized very soon. Looking up there at Jamie again, maybe I still feel the same. Her face is such that there are no longer words. She is a person, above all things, and just happens to be the very embodiment of female physical attractiveness. The more I look, the less I understand. No desire there, still. None at all. Just appreciation and a dumbfounded feeling. She does not compute. I wish I knew why this happened now. All the fucking way back to the salesperson at the dealer so many years ago, and flash forward to this morning. What the fuck goes on in my head? And there is Oksana Lada, all five-foot-nine of her beauty and nonexistent stomach. Anything? Nope... Still no desire despite all her smooth skin and unbelievably-shaped breasts. Fucking nothing. Twenty-three years old at the time, gorgeous beyond comprehension, formed as a representation of all I find appealing and unique, but I do not have a smidgen of feeling for her in that direction. All fucked up. Maybe this grew out of the imagery. Maybe? Has there been too much and all of it finally caught up with me? I'm beginning to feel that the attempt to analyze any genesis is futile. I may never truly know, and that is tough to swallow. Hmm... Swallow. There is that word again which I have used to describe so much desire. Does it fit? A little? I just looked at the way the camera approaches that little tidbit called the walnut girl, and perhaps she was just the tip of an enormous iceberg, or some sort of weight like others describe as finally breaking the camel's back. Either way, the feeling arrived and will not leave. Unwelcome, unwanted, unfulfilled... Just like the passion. That machine appeared to me randomly, took my brain and wrung it out in the worst way, and has left me ruined of wristwatches for all time. I let that thing have enough power to fuck me up for good. The obsession has more power and has controlled me for years. This new development in my lack of understanding has the power to kill me in several ways. The walnut girl is an actor, like Jamie, and appeared unannounced on my huge television screen, after which I researched and fell down. I always do that. The resources are there to learn about anything or anyone and I am compelled to use them. She is formed such that all choice is removed. My lifestyle dictates the decision to seek. Well, I sought. And now I want more. That is just dead fucking wrong. The question remains and I have already railroaded it several times in the space of one entry. God knows where this will lead and I have the sinking feeling the destination is going to be destructive. Pool girl? God damn Jesus fucking hell, anyway. I am having difficulty looking at that image of Jamie up there. Do you see? Beyond description, defying interpretation, she is the highest form of facial beauty. The more I look, well... You know. Just fucking look at her. Unbelievable and I am losing my head over the image. Ok, stop it this minute. Too much, idiot. Stop. Now. I stepped out into the sun for a cigarette and began to imagine what could very well take place if I had run across the pool sisters after feeling this way. There are infinite possibilities. Or maybe none. I might have simply froze for a moment, stared, and then ran off. I have done that before but not with the desire spinning me into a tornado. As I sit here in front of this infernal machine, I know that the latter is the most likely scenario. I am a decent person, all things considered, and I would not intrude upon another person's life out of the need to connect. That is no longer a part of my personality. The dreams of them all over me are another matter entirely. Still wrong, but perfectly natural. I am certain others do the same thing and just let it go. The world is filled with attractive people and up to this point I only saw them in one light. The walnut girl, the pool sisters, the whatever-may-come-next? I cannot answer for that yet. Right now, my brain is becoming overloaded with the need to understand combined with dreams of everything I cannot and should not pursue. Wow. I am going too far with this shit. Important, yes, but I need to stop. When my head goes back into last summer and the three visits to the pool during that week, I think of one aspect of being there first: Grasshoppers. They were everywhere, the two of us having arrived on the tail end of a huge swarm that moved through the city. That is a lot of area, too. The little guys were floating in the pool only to be avoided as we moved around the cool water. Others were there from time to time, but due to the excessive heat, I believe many avoided the adult pools in favor of keeping cool. The other side of that situation was the pool directly below our window which was for families with children. Until the thunderstorm arrived, that area was very busy. Our only choice for some peace and quiet was to head to the other end of the property to one of the pools geared toward adults. Three visits, with the middle one being the day of the thong throng. The grasshoppers were everywhere and paid no mind. I believe that was one of the very few occasions in which I had those types of forms directly before me -- at times right next to me, depending upon how the others moved around the pool area -- without being intimately familiar. As I recall the woman right next to me, I felt nothing aside from support and her loving manner. She cared, worried, and helped me to relax and enjoy the day without falling through the cement. Our conversations leading up to that wonderful week showed me that the understanding and compassion were always there no matter my difficulty. By the pool, those two girls strolled in with their parents and upon losing their coverings to sun themselves, and no sooner did I see far too much, but next to me was an almost immediate response wishing me well. There was nothing to worry about, really, because the focus of the trip was our enjoyment and in the space of a week the two sisters from beyond represented the only real difficulty despite the location. And in the months since arriving home after that trip? I have written very few words in their direction. Thus, now... The desire and dreams. The walnut girl could not possibly have the ability to allow my mind to wander excessively. I cannot believe that. The only other possibility would be that the need to swallow them had been somehow suppressed (not likely, but who knows?) due to the company next to me at the time, and months later it catalyzed. The walnut girl? Hmm... The pool goddesses were radically different, older, and almost completely uncovered from a clothing standpoint. Nearly fucking nude. My head tried to gather information back then but I eventually gave up on it due to having a bit of difficulty trying to comprehend just why the numbers and information had become so dire. This fucking desire has come out of left field and I cannot figure it out. Yes, the walnut girl is gorgeous and carries all the shit over which I have agonized, and I have no idea how many times such a find has taken place. The pool? They were beyond words. Now? I hardly remember. The dream? Maybe. Nope That is Mercedes up there in the last two images. She reminds me of those two swimsuit-clad beauties all those months ago. And yes, she is the same Mercedes from way back in fifteen when my ill-advised exploration of this topic began. Looking at her face? No desire. Again, I would love to have a conversation with her and stare at that face, but beyond that I do not want more. Just knowing her would be wonderful. Jamie? Nope. I already went into that. The walnut girl? Dessert in jeans. The girls in the thongs last year? The same... Just overwhelmingly pulling at me and I do not know why. Had I been alone on that trip things may have gone vastly different. Probably wrong, but I don't know. These days the idea of approaching a woman to discuss my interest feels different than years ago when I had the business cards made. The idea is frightening and I killed the project out of a deep fear. So, being alone at that pool -- and to go further, let's imagine no one else around -- and seeing those forms right there nearly sans clothing? I have no doubt that I would have packed up my shit and left for the room. Oh, I'm certain the next step would have been showering, changing, and running across the street to sit at the fucking bar. I would have said nothing to either of them. No way. Too scary, and likely unwanted. Unwarranted? No... It's fine. Just unwanted. They were there to relax. And there is no way of knowing what a response might be without an attempt. I would not do anything. But one other thing comes to mind. At the time, my head blew up because of their appearance and the fact that I was not accustomed to being exposed to such beauty or skin in person. Three-dimensional women just did not cross my path dressed as such. Of course, I do not spend time at pools or spas anymore, so the likelihood has been nil anyway, but the fact remains that I did not look upon their features with sexual desire until the other morning. And it was fucking strong, as in visions of snapping my fingers and being right back there on that Goddamned lounger not thirty feet from dreams. I am so fucked up over this that my mornings are turning into continuous efforts in search of understanding. Jesus Harold Christ, did those two women look amazing. I still can't believe they were there. Ok, the point has been sharpened enough. And there went another woman in a commercial. Fuck me in the eyes. At least the reporter hasn't shown up as of yet. I don't need that, but will stare anyway because I am fucked up that way. The walnut commercial has got to be more than I am seeing. Or, maybe something else took place that I am not remembering and the commercial came along at the right moment. Either way, I still have no insight. The fact is that my thinking has changed toward more than one subject and the analysis is going to drive me to drink. Heh. A very short trip, that one. Anyway, another day has gone by and I am thinking of what may be ahead this morning. They are still in there -- those two goddesses in strings -- and the desire is still there. The walnut girl is also floating in circles causing me to think far too much. Do I still want her after a couple of days? Yep, more than ever. I am becoming worried. As I stated above, this has never happened to me and somehow relates to the situation within which I have been mired for years. There are no answers."
04-25-2020 04:37 pdt
If you are visiting for the first time, go to the beginning
Jamie, the Walnuts, and the Pool
read ( words)
"Throughout any given day, my head runs through many permutations of the main subjects that have taken over life since the girl at the car wash (or Marci, or the first server, or possibly something else but I do not remember). The dreams come and go, I see a woman or more than one on the television or out in the world -- usually the more striking examples are on the screen, though -- and whatever I see will stay in there for a while depending upon the manner in which I see her. Two days ago I saw a commercial for walnuts, of all things, and a young woman sitting at the dining table with her mother. They were having a conversation. What struck me was the angle of the camera approaching the table, which was from a three-quarter behind the left side of the woman. Forward a bit, and then the shot's perspective changed to a back-and-forth between their faces for the discussion of the girl's new tattoo. The whole thing is rather funny and outlines the difference in generations. Very light, simple, effective, cute. Ok, where is the problem? Well, as the viewer's perspective is pushed toward the table, the younger of the two is outlined beautifully. And when I say that? It's bad. Like... I could throw away everything I have in the world and keep one video device just to watch her over and over as the camera moves until I run out of either breath or battery. And I wish that was funny. The woman is so stunningly well formed and matches every single fucking descriptive term I can find in my mental file cabinet that the entire affair has slowed the process of my daily life. Yes, the two reporters on the local news are gorgeous, two others on the national network are stunning, and there are a few thrown in here and there just for posterity. Some working, others being interviewed, but all very attractive from the mid-torso up. Unfortunately, the commercial has taken the proverbial cake. This one is very bad. A new realization has arisen which goes all the way back to Las Vegas last summer. Not good, and I have been battling my own sense of survival over analyzing something that has slammed me in the space of two days. The angle of the approaching camera kills me from the inside. Considering everything that has been piled inside my tired head throughout years of searching and researching, this has now pushed most of it away. The camera moves toward the table, only slightly, before the shot changes. In those seconds, we see her knees together, narrow waist, olive skin, slender left arm with one elbow on the table, and very long, brown hair all wavy and gorgeous. The entire section of the ad goes by very quickly and I had to rehash the thing many times before realizing what I was seeing. Unbelievable, and just a quick little commercial that has nothing to do with her appearance aside from the tattoo which is discussed. But holy Jesus God in heaven above, those few seconds have transformed the manner in which I consider and have considered the rare beauty sought for years. Decades. Whatever. A few viewings and I am head-over-heels for the look and have realized that other situations in the past were exceedingly difficult for reasons I had not considered at the time. Yep, this is different. Very different. The first thing I did was take note of the commercial and research it as soon as I had the time. Soon after? Captured still images, the entire video saved to a folder of similar media, and me scrutinizing the color level and exposure of each of the four images to get some detail. Yep, that is me. That is what I do and what I have become. I am very pleased that the young beauty came across the screen and allowed me to see yet another image of form which I quickly filed away. I am glad this took place because otherwise I do not know how much time could have passed before the realization set in that I have not seen. It is now illuminated and in the forefront of my existence. Walnuts, of all things. There have been others which did not hit me like this. The woman in the Joss & Main ad from a year ago, some of the insurance commercials (mostly split-second views and nothing consequential), and the occasional still image out there in the world staring back at me as I marvel at the loveliness. The syndrome was there during those events and is wider now. If that girl had not run past my eyes the other day, I may not have thought of everything in this manner. None of the other ads pushed me so much, and a couple were unreal. Where they find these fucking women I will never know (and even if I did know, I would never be allowed near. Heh). Yes, I am glad she was there at the right time and looking like every single word I have uttered in years. Now? The doors are wide open and awaiting another slew of shit from me. This latest turn of my brain has also brought another situation to mind that I have placed on a shelf for months. Wanna guess? The girls at the pool. Yes, them. Barely mentioned, but still there, and now more important for other reasons. I will get to that.
Why now? I have enough going on
Why aren't the images of the girl here, you ask? I cannot do that without discussing crediting and permission with the ad agency. Besides, referencing her here is not important. I will never know the 'why' and 'how' of these issues, unless some of it is my own fault due to diving into whatever is bad for me. Is there any method for measuring that? Heh. The girl stirred me immediately and upon a second viewing pressed a button inside that reminded me of suppressed feelings last summer. And to extend the whole shit show even further, the girls at the pool and what took place inside my head upon seeing their skin brought me way back to the early nineties and a car dealership near my home. A salesperson, her red dress, and a flood of thoughts and feelings I did not understand at the time. After all these years without thinking about her, all of it has returned. The need to know faded but is back with force. The walnut girl triggered a storm inside me that has not taken place in nearly three decades. Remember issues one through four? Well, you know all about one if you have read here at all. This is it, but more. Much more. And I am partially thrown for a loop because of it. I even turned off the news a bit ago so the reporters do not shift my thinking. Oh I saw her once already, and that is the reason for the change. There is enough going on inside me now. I do not need anything else to force my sense into jumping ship. What is the issue? That is a tough one, even for my keyboard. In the previous entry regarding the girl I saw so many years ago (twice!), I mentioned the lack of emotional response while gazing at her unique beauty. [And don't fucking give me a blast of shit over the focus upon her breasts in that essay, either.] I stared as long as the situation permitted before driving away. The entire time was spent focused upon the way she looked in the afternoon sun, but at no time did I feel desire toward her. Nothing. My thinking was about numbers, ratios, and other terms as they applied to her gorgeous body. I did not understand very much of the draw back then, and there is merely little more now, but the fact is I was trying to calculate why she was attractive. As I have stated before, the idea of the now-dead project related to this was to learn where those numbers could go -- or how far they could be pushed -- before the woman became either unattractive or an anomaly. I considered her look for days and then weeks before noting that something triggered the mathematical curiosity within. At no time did I want her. Not at all. Strange? I don't know whether it is or not. But desire did not take place. The walnut girl. Well, to put it clearly, as soon as I viewed that commercial a few more times, I wanted to jump her shit like nothing else. And the slender nature of her body brought me flashes of the girls at the pool. If I were in the same area and situation at this moment, I would be going out of my mind with desire. Picturing those sisters in their string-thongs and thigh gaps is driving me insane. The walnut girl, too. I see her arm, her waist, those legs paired, and my head is fucked. The ones at the pool last year? Holy Jesus fuck in a fucking bra cup, they were straight out of my brain in every conceivable way and the appearance of all that skin wrapping such forms is just not something I expect to see again. I still want them. And this has not happened before. I do not know which way to turn. I keep looking at the still image of her long hair and want to shove all of her into my mouth. There it is. Physical desire. For the first time since trying to deeply analyze my issue of obsessing over the female form, the idea of this hurts. Never before. Why now? She is young, naturally, but I fail to see why this type of thing entered my head now. I have not thought of these examples by way of their age, but I guess young is young. The sisters at the pool were years apart, I believe, and I will admit that the younger of the two was much more aligned with my imagery and thought. Again, young. But keep in mind that one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen is three years my senior. Shove that in your pipe and smoke it. That's right, I don't get it either. Age? That does not matter. I hope this does not turn into something horrible, though. And then there is the other one that I rarely mention. As much as I felt for Jamie's character throughout life of that role, nothing like that ever entered my mind. Not even when she was beautifully gyrating in lingerie during the beginning of the second half of season six. If something was going to take place to make me want her, that would have been it. I was already smitten with her big, doe eyes, but what I wished for most was to simply sit across the table from her and stare. That was all. Even now, with me all up in arms and fucked over because of a combination of the walnut girl and those at the pool last summer, and after I just spent fifteen minutes seeking high-resolution images showing off her facial beauty, I still feel the same. One of those images is below. Jamie should be filed under beauty in every fucking encyclopedia. I will not go on all day about her because you probably get the point. The woman grew up to be something I will never forget. The girls at the pool are another matter entirely. They share one similarity with Jamie and the walnut beauty... I know nothing of them and never will, unless there is some odd turn of events. Very unlikely, that one. So, I know nothing. Jamie is an actor, the pool sisters were two people enjoying the sun and water, and the walnut loveliness is the same... No one I will ever know or be near. The only one of the four which holds more than that is Jamie. I was in love with her character throughout the long sixth season, but keep in mind that was fiction. The woman herself is a mystery. A gorgeous mystery, for sure, but still just a person I do not know. There is still no desire there beyond a handshake and some recognition of her prowess on the screen. Nothing. The sisters? They are rolling around in my head after eight months have passed and still slinking around in those nearly nonexistent swimsuits. I can see them angling for a lounge chair, standing from time to time and stepping into the water for a bit, and then repositioning on the chairs as my eyes melted. I could not believe that during one of the most frightfully weak periods in my recent issue-laden life, those two strolled into the pool area, dropped the wraps, and proceeded to redefine what I viewed as a still-image life through which I had trod, relegated to seeing nothing more than a two-dimensional world that eluded me like nothing else. They were right there, and there was fascination, staring, dreaming, yearning to see everything, however there was no fucking desire to be physical. None. That was next to me in spades. Right at this moment? I want them. Everything. Everywhere. And I don't know why. Eight months have passed, I just saw Jamie and her goddess features in high definition on the massive television, the walnut girl floated around inside, and suddenly the need arose. Not Jamie, but the three others. Something fucking changed inside my head and I not only have no idea of what to do, but I am frightened of what is coming next. I might be in deeper shit than ever before. And I think I fell in love with Jamie years ago.
The eyes that define beauty
I was just thinking about the fact that I left my camera at home during the trip to Vegas. The idea of my massive zoom sitting above the pool in one of the rooms and pointing down at the thighs of those girls would have accomplished two things: One, images by the ton of their beauty, and two, I probably would have been seen by another guest in the opposite tower and tossed from the resort after being labeled with any number of fucking terms. Heh. I am going to have to think deeply about this development and try to understand. This is something which has the ability to destroy either me or others who know me, so the effort is already underway. Of course, I could just keep my mouth shut and hands off the keyboard and no one would know otherwise. But being who I am (some would state 'who I MUST be'), the analysis is tossed to the four winds and out there because I have no alternate outlet for the shit in my head. I just hope the wrong person does not run across this and take issue with my words. That would be funny and scary at the same time. 'Wow, someone was following along?' Nope. Not likely, but there nonetheless. This is enough of a development to shake me deeply. And I am looking at Sofia Milos on the television but there is nothing... No desire whatsoever despite the fact that she exudes about as much sexuality as is possible from one woman. Nothing. Why? Is the walnut girl different somehow? And the sisters at the pool, not a feeling in hell back then, but now I want to swallow them whole? I don't get it at all. I do not remember dreaming of anything like this recently. Most of my dreams that I do remember are related to past work, cars, family, or any number of random occurrences that go nowhere, or at least went nowhere at the time. I do recall one acquaintance of mine appearing in an elaborate dream for whatever reason, and we were engaged in lots of sexual activity and flirting at every step. I had always thought of her as gorgeous, sexy, whatever, but also like a sister. She is closely related to another woman -- equally full of everything imaginable -- also like a sister. Why she was all over me in a dream is a mystery. Dreams are different, and interpretations go all around the world in seconds. The girls at the pool have not been subjects of my dreams that I know of, and showed up as desirable only after the fucking commercial. As interesting as this may seem, I may never learn of why it happened now. The walnut girl appears to be a teenager (judging by the subject of the ad) and that opens yet another box of worry inside. Again, I know not why. And moreso? Why now? Nope, nothing. No insight. Part way into 'Flip' I mentioned the girl that I spied one morning in the dark and in a shopping center close to home. That was also the entry in which the pool girls were mentioned as they related to what I felt when the woman walked directly in front of our headlights and I saw a clear picture of her face and shape. The urge to describe her was strong, so I jotted down what I could recall as time permitted. The girls in their tiny thongs at the pool may have been the last time I felt that way upon sight. I don't know, but it makes sense that I related the two occasions. Well, I do not remember the girl in the early morning as she stepped close, but I do see the bodies of those two by the pool. Somewhat. They are impossible to describe at this point, although that probably doesn't matter anymore. Eight months have passed and the images fade. I mentioned them last year due to the sight that morning. I mention them now because something changed. Time will tell if I can correlate those fucking goddesses with the walnut girl. One little positive? I do not know of her name... Yet. If you know me at all, you already realize that she will be scrutinized very soon. Looking up there at Jamie again, maybe I still feel the same. Her face is such that there are no longer words. She is a person, above all things, and just happens to be the very embodiment of female physical attractiveness. The more I look, the less I understand. No desire there, still. None at all. Just appreciation and a dumbfounded feeling. She does not compute. I wish I knew why this happened now. All the fucking way back to the salesperson at the dealer so many years ago, and flash forward to this morning. What the fuck goes on in my head? And there is Oksana Lada, all five-foot-nine of her beauty and nonexistent stomach. Anything? Nope... Still no desire despite all her smooth skin and unbelievably-shaped breasts. Fucking nothing. Twenty-three years old at the time, gorgeous beyond comprehension, formed as a representation of all I find appealing and unique, but I do not have a smidgen of feeling for her in that direction. All fucked up. Maybe this grew out of the imagery. Maybe? Has there been too much and all of it finally caught up with me? I'm beginning to feel that the attempt to analyze any genesis is futile. I may never truly know, and that is tough to swallow. Hmm... Swallow. There is that word again which I have used to describe so much desire. Does it fit? A little? I just looked at the way the camera approaches that little tidbit called the walnut girl, and perhaps she was just the tip of an enormous iceberg, or some sort of weight like others describe as finally breaking the camel's back. Either way, the feeling arrived and will not leave. Unwelcome, unwanted, unfulfilled... Just like the passion. That machine appeared to me randomly, took my brain and wrung it out in the worst way, and has left me ruined of wristwatches for all time. I let that thing have enough power to fuck me up for good. The obsession has more power and has controlled me for years. This new development in my lack of understanding has the power to kill me in several ways. The walnut girl is an actor, like Jamie, and appeared unannounced on my huge television screen, after which I researched and fell down. I always do that. The resources are there to learn about anything or anyone and I am compelled to use them. She is formed such that all choice is removed. My lifestyle dictates the decision to seek. Well, I sought. And now I want more. That is just dead fucking wrong. The question remains and I have already railroaded it several times in the space of one entry. God knows where this will lead and I have the sinking feeling the destination is going to be destructive.
Pool girl?
God damn Jesus fucking hell, anyway. I am having difficulty looking at that image of Jamie up there. Do you see? Beyond description, defying interpretation, she is the highest form of facial beauty. The more I look, well... You know. Just fucking look at her. Unbelievable and I am losing my head over the image. Ok, stop it this minute. Too much, idiot. Stop. Now. I stepped out into the sun for a cigarette and began to imagine what could very well take place if I had run across the pool sisters after feeling this way. There are infinite possibilities. Or maybe none. I might have simply froze for a moment, stared, and then ran off. I have done that before but not with the desire spinning me into a tornado. As I sit here in front of this infernal machine, I know that the latter is the most likely scenario. I am a decent person, all things considered, and I would not intrude upon another person's life out of the need to connect. That is no longer a part of my personality. The dreams of them all over me are another matter entirely. Still wrong, but perfectly natural. I am certain others do the same thing and just let it go. The world is filled with attractive people and up to this point I only saw them in one light. The walnut girl, the pool sisters, the whatever-may-come-next? I cannot answer for that yet. Right now, my brain is becoming overloaded with the need to understand combined with dreams of everything I cannot and should not pursue. Wow. I am going too far with this shit. Important, yes, but I need to stop. When my head goes back into last summer and the three visits to the pool during that week, I think of one aspect of being there first: Grasshoppers. They were everywhere, the two of us having arrived on the tail end of a huge swarm that moved through the city. That is a lot of area, too. The little guys were floating in the pool only to be avoided as we moved around the cool water. Others were there from time to time, but due to the excessive heat, I believe many avoided the adult pools in favor of keeping cool. The other side of that situation was the pool directly below our window which was for families with children. Until the thunderstorm arrived, that area was very busy. Our only choice for some peace and quiet was to head to the other end of the property to one of the pools geared toward adults. Three visits, with the middle one being the day of the thong throng. The grasshoppers were everywhere and paid no mind. I believe that was one of the very few occasions in which I had those types of forms directly before me -- at times right next to me, depending upon how the others moved around the pool area -- without being intimately familiar. As I recall the woman right next to me, I felt nothing aside from support and her loving manner. She cared, worried, and helped me to relax and enjoy the day without falling through the cement. Our conversations leading up to that wonderful week showed me that the understanding and compassion were always there no matter my difficulty. By the pool, those two girls strolled in with their parents and upon losing their coverings to sun themselves, and no sooner did I see far too much, but next to me was an almost immediate response wishing me well. There was nothing to worry about, really, because the focus of the trip was our enjoyment and in the space of a week the two sisters from beyond represented the only real difficulty despite the location. And in the months since arriving home after that trip? I have written very few words in their direction. Thus, now... The desire and dreams. The walnut girl could not possibly have the ability to allow my mind to wander excessively. I cannot believe that. The only other possibility would be that the need to swallow them had been somehow suppressed (not likely, but who knows?) due to the company next to me at the time, and months later it catalyzed. The walnut girl? Hmm... The pool goddesses were radically different, older, and almost completely uncovered from a clothing standpoint. Nearly fucking nude. My head tried to gather information back then but I eventually gave up on it due to having a bit of difficulty trying to comprehend just why the numbers and information had become so dire. This fucking desire has come out of left field and I cannot figure it out. Yes, the walnut girl is gorgeous and carries all the shit over which I have agonized, and I have no idea how many times such a find has taken place. The pool? They were beyond words. Now? I hardly remember. The dream? Maybe.
Nope
That is Mercedes up there in the last two images. She reminds me of those two swimsuit-clad beauties all those months ago. And yes, she is the same Mercedes from way back in fifteen when my ill-advised exploration of this topic began. Looking at her face? No desire. Again, I would love to have a conversation with her and stare at that face, but beyond that I do not want more. Just knowing her would be wonderful. Jamie? Nope. I already went into that. The walnut girl? Dessert in jeans. The girls in the thongs last year? The same... Just overwhelmingly pulling at me and I do not know why. Had I been alone on that trip things may have gone vastly different. Probably wrong, but I don't know. These days the idea of approaching a woman to discuss my interest feels different than years ago when I had the business cards made. The idea is frightening and I killed the project out of a deep fear. So, being alone at that pool -- and to go further, let's imagine no one else around -- and seeing those forms right there nearly sans clothing? I have no doubt that I would have packed up my shit and left for the room. Oh, I'm certain the next step would have been showering, changing, and running across the street to sit at the fucking bar. I would have said nothing to either of them. No way. Too scary, and likely unwanted. Unwarranted? No... It's fine. Just unwanted. They were there to relax. And there is no way of knowing what a response might be without an attempt. I would not do anything. But one other thing comes to mind. At the time, my head blew up because of their appearance and the fact that I was not accustomed to being exposed to such beauty or skin in person. Three-dimensional women just did not cross my path dressed as such. Of course, I do not spend time at pools or spas anymore, so the likelihood has been nil anyway, but the fact remains that I did not look upon their features with sexual desire until the other morning. And it was fucking strong, as in visions of snapping my fingers and being right back there on that Goddamned lounger not thirty feet from dreams. I am so fucked up over this that my mornings are turning into continuous efforts in search of understanding. Jesus Harold Christ, did those two women look amazing. I still can't believe they were there. Ok, the point has been sharpened enough. And there went another woman in a commercial. Fuck me in the eyes. At least the reporter hasn't shown up as of yet. I don't need that, but will stare anyway because I am fucked up that way. The walnut commercial has got to be more than I am seeing. Or, maybe something else took place that I am not remembering and the commercial came along at the right moment. Either way, I still have no insight. The fact is that my thinking has changed toward more than one subject and the analysis is going to drive me to drink. Heh. A very short trip, that one. Anyway, another day has gone by and I am thinking of what may be ahead this morning. They are still in there -- those two goddesses in strings -- and the desire is still there. The walnut girl is also floating in circles causing me to think far too much. Do I still want her after a couple of days? Yep, more than ever. I am becoming worried. As I stated above, this has never happened to me and somehow relates to the situation within which I have been mired for years. There are no answers."
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