October 10, morning by the lake
Our rowing boat and the white-tailed eagle
As life progress across the expanding space that is time and the growing universe, it touches each and every one of us.
Changing us from the inside out, simultaneously and incrementally steering a continual change in both the largest and smallest of ways.
This gradual transformation caused by life and your own actual needs and healthy choices, is as wonderful as it is taken for granted, but in truly rare everyday life moments, as life reach out to touch you as you cast yourself out to enjoy the untamed and never ending torrent that is life, something remarkable sometimes happens and in those moments you and life find yourself mixing and merging to change the wild waters of the entire universe through that very same unilateral and symbiotic touch.
And, if you find yourself blessed enough, in those preciously rare moments sparsely scattered across your entire life, you might even find yourself in the presence of something rarer still.
When tongues collide with hearts and soul and skin in the most real and purest, natural form there is.
When the entire universe seemingly collides within the personal space of your physical being, and your heart and soul is showering in the presence of the tiny few people in all of life, or perhaps, like it so happens to be in my own case, within the space of that one single person right here on Earth that with no need at all for a single reason beyond simply being who they are, make you truly understand the term, perfectly "made for each other".
When outside of all defining chapters, the time and moment and person simply is perfectly imperfect like only life at it´s best can ever truly be.
When that happens, that perfectly imperfect magic you are now steering is simply put about people being right for each other and life itself could not agree more. And within those rare moments of colliding tongues and souls that seemingly was born billions of years ago waiting just for each other, when the now and forever is perfectly right for each other, that is when the physical world and places, the moments and life itself get touched and changed in turn.
You might not truly understand it, but you can feel it in the slowing of time and moments, you can see it in the places that find themselves turned and altered in ways that go beyond mere words and limiting ideas and definitions.
In that moment when time slows down to a barely heard whisper, or perhaps the truth is that for you, time and day speed up and shoots through the universe like a gigantic cosmic wave that makes entire galaxies bob and weave upon its joyous eruption, well, no matter what, drink that cup.
Drink that cup and cherish every drop, breathe all that life holds for you.
Enjoy it and drink it like a mad with joy phoenix born again in the fires of the stars and sun, don't hold back, love and drink and enjoy it all, every single moment of it all, whatever way it unfolds, whatever the future holds, it does not matter.
Because the simple truth is that tomorrow or the forgotten past has never diminished the joy and needs that now truly lives inside your joyous soul and heart.
Happy bday October 10
For me, and you, this could have been just another day of life. And of course, that was exactly what it was, a slice of everyday life down by the lake, but it was, also and forever, a perfect day with white-tailed eagles, white swans, and seagulls that slowly rocked our old wooden boat gently down our misty lake of wonders. It was a perfect day for the two of us, no matter how anyone else would ever slice the dice and look at life.
But as my hand reached out, as we solemnly floated by the auburn colored trees and rocks that reached out into the water I touched your skin and slowly raised your skirt, we both smiled moments before I kissed your lips, rocking to the turning of the sea, and inside our slowly moving boat, my fingers soon gently touched your shaved and already aching wet privates to the sound of waves and birds, and the slowness of the warming breeze that rattled leafs and strands of hair before it seemed to eagerly help me stir your growing wetness.
As with every moment shared with you, life beneath the white-tailed eagle was made all the brighter, impossibly lush and vivid, just by being shared with you. For within you, the power to light the very core of entire worlds flows from nothing more than you simply being you.
And so, when you shivered and quaked for the first time this day, when your wetness rushed against my fingers in a series of quaking seismic contractions, the boat rocked just a little bit more, and the white-tailed eagle took to the sky above our heads, calling out our names with its peculiar gong like song, and with the sound of its mighty wings and your own pleasured moaning, your physical eruptions seemed to take a life of their own through the waves that rushed more sudden away from the boat, across the calm surface of the lake I know it rushed across the wild waters of the universe, as I made you cum again life was changed and made forever richer.
By breathing, living and simply being, just the way you are, you paint tongues and kisses, the color of the sky and the motions of the rain as nature waters our garden of trees to bloom forever more bright and vivid, just by being you.
Happy birthday my October 10.
music of the day while you are reading our article
The Moment by The Agonist
The Mouse In our Wall
We play in the snow, under the shooting star
Told to you, as I once told, a mind and girly soul, so beautiful.
Inside the walls of our homes, and lives. There are Undraped windows through which we see both in and out, and at night I look out and up with you.
A shooting star stirs and moves the northern lights. Like a spoon through water, it moves before our eyes. Clear as day yet slightly obfuscated through the sheets of glass, the world is silent and it could be a dream as I witness the star cut through the puffy clouds.
And at night.
Some other times, there we are, walking through life's small moments and we are holding hands.
Together, we stand outside having walked amongst the falling leafs and the subtle snow.
Rain or sunshine matters not.
Looking in, through the of night, all chilly frosty glass, the burning lamps the pleasant light and warmth that moves and lives inside.
Is it empty we ask out loud, or is there someone looking out? Back at us. Do they hear our silent minds, can they feel our burning soul and warming hands.
In between these two sides. Neither looking in or out. Or perhaps, they do them both all the time.
There live a gnarly little furry mouse that moves about with his love and all their friends.
At night, you can hear them talk and hug it out. They move, play and dart around, inside and outside the walls that people build. Sometimes they walk our floors, sitting near, our sleeping faces.
We kiss and make a cute little snowy angel. Your arms wisp around and I kiss your pretty lips, yet again.
And right there. In the corner of my eye. I swear the little mice sits right nearby. Looking out at us as we hug it out.
And perhaps he too thinks the very same. Looking out and about, at us and all the shooting stars.

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