How To Say Goodbye~mobe-style!

it isn't you, it's me. I just don't have time for this, really. I don't have time for you. I wanted to make time for you but the examples set by my peers allowed me to step out and fuel my own interests. Now, I sit here washing my mind and realize, I probably shouldn't have made time for you at all.

Keen eyes and a sharp mind are not something you place in a closet. They can't be contained or held or stored. They have to be appreciated and used to their full potential and now, at some pivotal crisis in your day, you feel the need to arrest my processes and push the "E" stop on the mechanical workings of my head. How thoughtful of you; I see I am not the only one who has their own agenda.

But seriously, I am sitting here in the latrine and considering your options as I see them. This< >is my space and this is my home and my will and my try and my go'round at this life. Not yours. Not my family's and not your dog's. I wanted to allow you in the bubble and make room for you and even clear out some long over due rubbish to let you in, but you keep pushing me away and away and then, when I show no interest at all, absolutely none, you feel necessary to crawl from the grates in the road, where the filthy water collects after every rain and make your way topside to emerge in the light of day and scour the ends of the earth until you find me. "Ta-dah!" You found me, now go away! It wasn't as if you were invited or even called upon and when I had all the time in the world you had none. Now I would rather bite my nails while sitting on a city bus next to a derelict who smells like piss and alcohol than to even spend one iota of my day with you.

Do you get it now? Got it? Any questions? Good! Now go away and leave me alone to do my work!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

So Be It

frequently you come across a persona so grand that it stops you dead in your tracks and gives you cause for concern. Then there are days when you don't want to tumble out of bed despite how good the coffee aroma be and the smell of bacon burning is. You just can't seem to get motivated because your dreams served a better purpose than your reality. Having a line between these two is useful. Creating one is a trick.

My dreams are beyond surreal. I spend most days with a head full of imagination and I like to let my mind take a course of its own. I don't direct it but life does, and I make no apologies for the cesspools it happens upon as they give little breaks to the gaiety of the whole film. Like a reel it spins and unfolds and I watch mesmerized as every chapter is more devastating than the next. No one person has ever fully been able to accept all the information contained there, and it doesn't surprise me as it has been difficult for me, the author, to hold it all in. It is macabre and gory and taboo. Now it is in paper and it even scares the shit out of me. By paper I mean in print and out there, exposed and naked for the world to see my twisted grey matter and judge it, good or bad.

I am fearful but with a spine of steel because I am proud of what I have done. If they don't like it but it draws them in and they can't take their eyes from it like they're gawking at a horrible accident, then so be it. If it stimulates them but confuses them because it disgusts them at the same time, so be it. If this is the only way to right the wrongs and correct some lies in historical events and feel like I have accomplished something great, beyond great...then so be it. Judge it, judge me, judge yourselves.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

What Am I Without You?

I shed a little piece of me for you today
I cried a little tear that fell to the floor
I left a little note under my pillow with hope last night
I told no lie for the duration of my stay

you shed what needed to be gone dear

you cried to wash away your hurt

you left that note so I will find it

you told no lie because you knew I would know

I hold you with honor and reverence

I cling to you in times of great need
I won't bother you with trivial matter
I need you to comfort me and smile

you hold me much too high

you cling to me whenever you want

you won't bother me at all because nothing regarding you is trivial

you need me as much as you are needed

I wanted to scream with all the air I have
I tried to but couldn't make a sound
I muted my voice to a whisper
I crumbled to the floor with that tear

you  wanted to scream because I wasn't by your side

you tried to but knew in your heart I was really there

you muted to that whisper so I could hear you

you crumbled because you knew I would catch you

I cannot for sake go on like this
I must not bear this all alone
I fear for what has become of me
I will get better I'm told

you cannot for sake give up

you must not bear this all alone

you fear that that is what has come to pass

you will get better and I will help

I have a certain wish in heart
I gave so many of my pieces away
I may not ever get another chance
I say what I came here to say

you have a wish to be wanted

you gave so many wishes away

you may have another chance, I'll see to that

you say what you need to I'm listening 

I loved with all I thought I had
I failed with more than one should be
I lost what meant the most to you
I wept and sat in self pity

you loved but weren't loved in return

you failed to see that your love was just

you lost only what you can have back

you wept with self pity because you were hurt

I must not forget that I have responsibility

I owe her a mother that's true

I allow her her own life and condone her

I am just coming to terms with I am and who

you must not forget that you are but one person

you owe nothing for nothing was owed

you allow yourself the time you need

you are going to pull yourself through

I hear a voice so faint and calling

I have waited long to hear it call my name

I answer it because it gives me strength

I know I am going to be well soon

you hear me cheering you on

you have waited so long to hear anyone

you answer because it lifts your spirit

you know you are well and on your way, dear

~mobes love to her all and her all to her loves

Relationship Status: Celibacy as Mobe Sees

celibacy is no laughing matter. I didn't choose to be celibate, at first, but I did yield to its sensibility after viewing the potential candidates out there. I mean that as far as celibacy goes per my definition and that would be to fly the airplane solo for awhile until it either crashes or is manned through hostile takeover.

Sex is something I have prided myself on at being good at. The running joke is I am good at only four main things and sex happens to be one of them, cooking, mothering and writing are the other three in no respective order. But sex is what's been on my mind since I have been able to reach that mighty little spot that seems so hard for partners to find even though they pass by it a hundred times trying to look for it. I know where it is and how it works and even how to coax it when it is over worked and lately, I just am not feeling like sharing it with anyone at this time. I am tired of the games we play and want a game free zone from here on out. I don't want to see pictures of someone's body parts at the cost of me sending them one in return and I don't want to send them to anyone, did this once and regretting it today.

What I do want is to own my own happiness for a while. I have been looking in all the wrong places and have found I am most pleased when I am alone because I don't let myself down to often and when I do, I know I am sorrowful for the lack of knowledge that led me to do so. So, from here on out, I am exclusively dating "myself" and will be happy in my own company. I will dine with me and shower with me and play with me and even have my usual arguments with me and sleep with me. I will buy myself a flower and surprise myself through my own spontaneity. I am going to have a fulfilling relationship alone. I have had sex a total of six times this year and could actually live without that memory, however short it was. Before that I had none for eighteen months.

Celibacy seems to be the message the fates want to send so I will yield to it no matter how scared I am of becoming some old, embittered woman like my own hateful mother. I don't think the fates and gods that be expect me to keep my hands away from myself so have decided that I will allow myself the fantasy of romance with a faceless name and a nameless face when I delve into the art of self love. I don't know why it is so important that I remain chaste, to a degree, at this time, but I am sure it will all sort itself out in the wash somehow. I am not even going to speculate as to why or what purpose they have and trust, for once, that they know what they are doing. I am tired of beating my head against a brick wall and coming up with the "loser" sign in the form of an "l" shaped bruise. It is high time I take myself and them seriously and do what is best for me and my child and keep as far away from men as possible. I will talk and chat and flirt and such but any intentions on their part to persuade me will fail because I cannot afford to make an ass out of myself again. I can't take this anymore.

Chastity is something that was robbed of me by men and boys. It was something I had no choice in giving up, just like innocence, and today I make a point to try and obtain a sense of wholeness through my own salvation and review. I am looking inward and hoping to find a map to the outward mobe that will guide me through the rest of my life, short or long.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

The Difference Between...Part Deux

well it wouldn't be fair if I didn't address another of those familiar moniker mix-ups we all love to hear about. I hope the last one was well received from yours truly to you and that at the very least, it made you chuckle. But it came to my attention after the fifth read of The Difference that more clarity was needed for the opposite of sex as well, as us bitches tend to fuck things up and get things confused...this is my attempt at clarity for all you self-professed "pimps" or whatever out there.

Managers, Pimps & Boyfriends
Well it has come down to this and I wasn't in the meaning of making this funny because there's nothing funny about people not knowing what the fuck they are. We as women and they as men get shit confused far to often, and those of us with boyfriends who want to be pimps that call themselves managers know what I'm talking about here.

First off you don't need a manager. No one does in the sense of someone who personally likes to take responsibility for your life insurance, cash flow, promotion and so on. This is not referring to the twenty-year old kid at McDonald's who sets your schedule for the work week. This is to all these seedy fuckers out there who immediately go from being a family friend to a pick-pocket in their own "Artful Dodger" way. These men can be bald or coiffed and also portly or lean. They come in all shapes, sizes, colors, educations and religions-though they all worship the almighty dollar-YOURS. Keep your eyes on your underwear, coin and kid sister. Nothing is as low as the self-appointed manager who assures you "it's all on the up & up!" See also producers, talent scouts and business partner.

Now take a pimp. These men make no point of appointing anything. They offer their assistance and it works for both types. There's the pimp who is just a player marketing under a different name, harmless and fun to have around, and then you have a pimp true and blue. These men have a flock of cash-making feminine banks at their disposal. Sure they are abusive and some even outright violent but at least they don't make a secret of it. They wear it proud and there are some good ones out there who really care for their working girls and so on. Beware of these men as some are in the prone of accepting the position as such through nefarious ways by coming off as a boyfriend and then suddenly you find you got a pimp. Never trust a smiling salesman or any man for that matter! See also pimp daddy, boss man and handler.

Your boyfriend is not the man who asks you for your money and talks to you like a third world textile mill slave. He is not interested in your cash, your expertise or being able to manage your financial and business matters. Those are pimps and managers. He is gentle and understanding and funny and self sacrificing just as you would be. He is willing to try new things but does have a limit and expects you to be similar in nature. He admires your beauty and has no wish to see you squander it under some heaving slob paying twenty dollars to deposit his semen in your mouth and fifty for a face shot. He works, is clean, may or may not be a smoker/drinker and is good to his family and friends. If you want to know how he is going to treat you then you need to speak with his siblings and his friends and if they still be around, his parents. His community will vouch for his character as opposed to the other two fellas just being a bunch of characters. You can trust this man but always be aware he isn't perfect, he will screw up. Just like you, he makes mistakes and wants forgiveness...do unto him... See also fiance, hubby, significant other.

I have met many men in my day who posed as one or some of the characters. Playa's and managers and pimps and "daddies" and boy friends and so on. I liked them all as they all had a purpose and I was a fast learner so was able to see what was coming before it showed up. I got what I came for and so did they and not one of them has ever made me call them "master" or "daddy." When asked those questions, in bed or out of it, my replies stay the same-count on me for consistency: "My daddy is Robert Arthur Langlais Jr. and if you keep bringing him up, I'm going to bring 'something' down!" and my favorite "My master is my maker and you are too lazy to make your own coffee!"...now you know the difference...this PSA was brought to you by yours truly~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

The Difference Between...

arguing for argument's sake, it comes down to a perception of definition. I am tired of the posers and wannabes and clones out there for all you bitches and you bitch lovers. So here, for the first time in print, mobe has dumbed down the definition of some of your favorite mix-ups...enjoy! "=)~

Whores, Sluts & Prostitutes
It seems funny that someone would have to make clear the difference between these three but I get so many morons who get offended "on my behalf" when I express that I am a whore. In the truest sense of the word, that would apply to a small fractional amount of women, who like myself, enjoy sex and have made an "art" of it and perfected it in their own particular style. A good whore is not one that "knows her place" but rather let's YOU know her place as she can manipulate the limpest of cock into a full throbbing morning rooster ready to crow at the crack of whomever lies beneath. A whore never asks to get paid and is more of a teacher and will take on a student or two or three if needed. She is a professional and is worthy of the almighty dollar, but when money comes to hand..it usually means she's the top dog running the establishment whether metaphorical or in reality. See also "mistress" and any variation of that word, "lady," "madam." Some do get paid but as a chosen profession in the science and medical aspect of sexual rehabilitation as opposed to our next candidate...the prostitute.

Now a prostitute is a chick who whether to further her education, pay bills or provide a cache for her extra-curricular habits, will peddle pussy on the street or in the back of a magazine for whatever the going rate is in her immediate vicinity. There are many factors that control the cost analysis of her occupation including but not limited to looks, age, specialties, gender bias, etc. She is paid either by the deed or by the hour/half hour and is most readily quick to bail with your cash whether you were satisfied or not. She can be selective and call off a deal and will do so when money flow isn't an issue and also may just be an ordinary girl next door. I have friends that ARE prostitutes and also have back up jobs such as exotic dancing and waiting tables and bar tending. Others are single moms who need to pay the rent. See also "call-girl" or "escort." The percentage of prostitutes who are habitual users is far too high for my tastes as well as some of yours but far better than our next mix-up...the slut.

We all know one and we all dread them. They are the pukers at a party who will swallow their own foamy, frothy vomit and continue to suck you off. They like jewelry and clothes and are indiscriminate when it comes to sexual partners or places. She will do most anything a prostitute won't and will also leave you a present, sending your ass to the pharmacy or, in the worse case scenario, the ER. These girls go through so much coke and Jack and cash flow that they have become a strain on society in general and make the rest of us whores and those of the prostitution world who are decent, a bad rap. See also "tramp."

I am tired of people telling me to not "abuse" or "berate" myself when I refer to myself as a whore and other chickies who think they are worthy but are nothing more than sluts and filth. I have earned the right to call myself a whore and consider it an honor. I am THE whore and one they NEVER forget. I could have made a hell of a prostitute but didn't have the time while perfecting my craft. I have respect for the common call-girl and escort who is just in it for the paycheck and keep themselves away from the seedier side of things. Keeping in mind some prostitutes will resort to becoming a slut or tramp when they cease to get paid. Obey thy mastress; obey mobe!

It's all about perception kiddies. So, NOW you know the difference...and this public service announcement was brought to you by your favorite whore~mobe's love to you all and her all to her loves.

Wicked, Twisted, Little...

Wicked, Twisted, Little...

wicked little twisted lies with falling tears to wet the skies 
torrid humongous vile threats that make up all of life's regrets
putrid ficticious stories told with only ears to read and scold
I use my pen and paper's mark as print upon a falsehood lark
useless trouble made for sake when wanting aching theft I take
leads back to naughty evil deeds that planted oh the greener seeds
and grew to proportions vast and wide to let the children run and hide
as gaping chasms open far and swallow up the whole damn bar
I sit and watch upon a stool just gulping back so like a fool
until I leave and fall so low where all they went and no one knows
what wicked little twisted lies will follow tears to wet the skies 
with rain befall a garden's grace and breed a new and better race!

~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Rendering End

muddy puddles clinging to the boots of children as they board the yellow bus one last time before it is gone in the distance. I won't see them anymore or hear their laughter or even their feathery kisses upon my cheek. They will be gone to me and I to them and everyone else, and I cry quietly knowing that when I climb the stairs and enter my bedroom one last time that it will be my last sleep.

I have waited for this for a long time now and worked so hard to keep it mum. I didn't want to tell anyone or bother as there would be no use in them fretting or it ruining their way of life and robbing them of whatever chunk these last few years would have brought. I am leaving and I am ready, on my own terms and no one else's. Years have come and gone along with three husbands and many loved furry children. It is hard on one's heart to witness such loss and be caught in the whirlwind of it when all along it was you, you who should have gone first and you who the world has looked to for answers. But none were given. Only you remained and now, you will be the last to leave.

This year is pivotal and filled with anguished souls as I watched out my dark window and saw the world in chaos for the first time, and felt pity for it too. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was written that there would be more and there were some to lead and some to guide in the dark days ahead, but those days had come and gone and now in a new millennium we are stuck with what remains. My own children gone and their children's children and so on. I am old now and alone.

What shame have I brought my house that I should remain a quiet soul to wander sadly through these walls with no one to talk to or tend the yard or protect from all that would invade. Today the last of them left. No human footprint to walk alongside and to pet the neighbor's dog or to barbecue with like in the olden days. No one to drive a sky trolley or to deliver posts and certainly no point in "connecting" considering there isn't a voice around except my own madness that escapes my mouth in between sobs and determination. I asked for this. I wanted to see what absolute silence was and whether one being of moderate intelligence could make it alone. It's been several hours and all I have done is wander this house, still fearful of stepping out into the light and venturing out of town. Not sure how long reactors will man themselves or machines will keep vigil. But soon I know I will need to go for I have been granted a most cruel wish, eternity.

So I would lie myself down in greener pastures and spread my arms and gaze upon the heavens with solemn sadness and weep for the wicked deeds and thoughts I have done. I will not ask for parole and I will not beg for mercy for this was merely a gift and not a punishment, though I know different. Had only I been a willing servant instead of an all too capable unwilling specimen. It was never how good I was but more so how well I served. I was cruel so cruelty is thy name and I was perfect and now have inherited a perfect dream. Only these blue skies and white tufts of clouds hide a dark sinister punishment for all my arrogance. So I look one last time before closing my eyes and deciding my own fate for no other will. Frozen in place I will sleep and feel the low critters feasting upon what I am and what I tried too hard to unveil to the world. I will lay still as every flesh and atom is consumed and the meek finally inherit the earth. I will lay still without scream or sound aware in total that I will still feel my existence in the foul waste that evacuates them because I have inherited eternity and everlasting life as my crown for the glory I gained. I am the apocalypse....~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Putting Myself Out There

finding out about one's past is a difficult and lifetime task riddled with secret passages and lies and tales. It is arduous at best and seems an endless road but it has been something for me to look forward to with an investigator's eyes.

I love what I am and learning all that it entails. It frustrates me when I have become validated through scientific and historical endeavors but no one pays heed. It behooves me to know there are those out there who still cling to the lies as were told to them by their society and who refute my very existence. I put it aside, though, and try to carry on and put all the pieces of the puzzle together. Knowing what makes me a magnet and what draws them in isn't the same as having a gift for becoming a keeper of the peoples. I am not a keeper of peoples. I haven't the heart for it or the sacrificing nature. I will only sacrifice if there is something in it for me and at least I remain true to the beastly nature of my heritage.

I want things. Intangible things that you can touch only with your mind, concepts if you will. And I have gone to great lengths to achieve some of these wants only now, it seems, I have been losing them at an alarming rate compared to that which are gained. There is beauty in this loss and tonight I felt renewed with a lust for more. My mood has been changing and altering and sifting through the infinite possibility to stay alone forever in what's left of this go 'round or to yield and give "them" what they want with no thought or want of my own for them to fulfill. It's not like they're going to anyway because even when I come close to finding one who may, they are yanked out of reach for some misdeed I have amassed and dangled in front of my face for the final torture. I am a prisoner to my ancestral past, my scientific present and my hitherto future and feel so oppressed by this need of the gods to mock me at every turn for my abject disobedience.

I am an unwilling subject of the high court of surreal. Calling to the spirits and the masses of those who went before me does nothing as they already have a sense as to what is going on in my heart and mind and thought processes before I even can blurt it out. I speculate before I speak and it allows those who stood before me to hear my choices and help to guide me and validate what I already hold in my heart. It also gives them opportunity to laugh and mock and scream at the top of their ethereal lungs when they know ahead of time what follies I choose before me. I am imperfect. They want me perfect and sometimes I gravitate to the imperfect answer if only to entertain them of sorts. Only tonight, they were silent. I hate when they are silent. It means I walk this part of the rode alone and it scares me. I am full grown but still child-like in my insufferable need to be validated by "them" and to be proper. But tonight, I laid my heart and soul and body on the line and all they did was sit and watch and observe without any inkling as to whether I was choosing what was best for me...and I am afraid...

Every flaw and ill thought came rushing back to my face and for a moment I wanted to blurt out that I didn't deserve even one moment of happiness and then, at a second's click on a watch face, I was reminded again at how perverse my world was by the very thing I coveted the most these last few weeks. I am too different and too abstract for them. I am something to admire and disbelieve. I am a myth and a prize. I am everything the world has been afraid of and wants to keep locked up and hidden away because I will only rain chaos in the teaching of others to be more, emulate me more. And they used my very wishing want to express this to me. Telling me to keep quiet and bading me to to be still and begging me to let another lead for once. But no, mobe had to dig deep into depravity and scar herself more and expose herself and her breast and her bone to her prey as if to invoke some subtle yield on their part to my wish. I wait and will continue to wait and stick it out no matter how painful it will be in the end because all I can do is wait. I have to see it through to the end. Maybe...just maybe there will be a brass ring there for me...who knows?~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

This Is War

they asked for it and it is imminent. From the first stone throw out of the misunderstanding of ignorance to the final button pushed on a panel of expert missiles, war has been waged.

A battle of the sexes was brewing long before coffee in the tropics. Man begat war after war all in the name of some female he wanted to possess or promise not rendered good upon. I have waged my own private war on man. I have no equal in my travels to draw my attention and have been left with the weakest of drink and the lightest of dinner. I have been left with man. And he is not alone, his other half feels my mirth too for all the unhappiness I bring to them for the inferior love I get in return. I love with my whole heart and soul. I give everything, too much really, and am left with nothing left but sadness and mirth. I have been accused of being sad as of late. By several men at that who find me irresistible in a broken state but still reproachable for the sadness I bear and produce.

I have been a sinister sister indeed and really have no problem other than the fact that my loins ache for the love of a master who will by day rule and reign over me and by nightfall yield to a mastress who will govern with pride. This sinister side keeps me from liking and finding one with an acceptable amount of guild for me to look upon. It is a quest that has took me on a four-decade journey looking for a him who is worthy. When I come close some door is always slung shut and tightly on my foot and my heart. It is dangled farther back than a brass ring of achievement and seems to be my one true failing in life, love. But I don't give up. Amazingly.

And I claw upon the ground and trace outlines of my game plan and even leak secrets of the battle to the other side in the hopes it throws them off their game. I have found a many "someones" and wonder about the latest in a long list as to whether this will be my shining moment to persevere. Is this the day I will finally find what I am looking for and give all I have without worry or continual scarring of what is left of where a heart should have been. I adorn my armor and my weapons and clamor to the top of the hill only to look down into the most beautiful, serious face I have ever seen. Green eyes and darkest soft curls framing a full masculine face dotted with stubble and a traditional, to his breed, beard-burns combination, sans mustache. He is tall, of course that is no great feat when one is five feet four to begin with, and broad of shoulder and looks as though he himself had lifted the moon and the sun at their respective times each day for all to admire. I am speechless and melt and doubt I will be worthy of the battle. I am not even sure I want to fight so much as curl up naked with him in his tent and promise him my services until the end of time, I think I may have at some point but cannot make out the inaudible sounds coming from my bellows.

I am going to lose. Big time. I think I may have already lost the last little piece of steaming red bloodied meat that was supposed to grow me a new heart. I talk so foolishly and gush over my words as if they fell out of the mouth of a child too young to understand the emotion. But my body responds to him and has already mutinied my efforts to overtake him. He will cast me aside or capture me and either way I have no more choice and I can wield the largest of blades but would not for fear of marring such an elegant creature that I would rather bed. He knows my attraction to his maleness and he himself suffers a disease of sorts and is drawn and betrayed time and again by his phallus at the mere mention of my name and the things that it entails. How is it two people can be so scared and so drawn at the same time that our own bodies would jump ship and flee to the other side? How is it that I no longer hold a heart in my hand as an offer or gesture, that it can be snatched so easily and in plain sight? No, friends, there will be no cure for this...this thing that has softened your mobe and made her aware of her scent again and of her face and her smile. There will be no cure if even he denies what his legs and arms and lips and eyes tell him is so and he casts her away. She that was a fearsome ruler some minutes ago is lost forever in lace and caresses and will not stop until she has ventured into the enemy's encampment and stared it in the face with her sword to his throat and makes him say the truth or perish forever on her blade...

...that he loves her. Only her and that he too was lost and searching for so long and that he would rather die than let anything ever keep them apart..could this be real? Could mobe's judgment be blind? There will be an end to this...soon for it is killing her slowly...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Justified

it becomes increasingly difficult to find things positive to say about the opposite of sex regardless of whether or not I am of the same genetic make up or not. I am in admiration's grasp as to their visual draw to my kind, but beyond that and the less than stellar performances in adult activity, it leaves one a little metallic taste in their mouth for the blood drawn in anguish at what lengths they go to to undermine each other rather than to push their own species forward.

It behooves me to spend my days looking back on all the errors and deeds done and lost on this world and all the horror they themselves have brought unto. Every single myth in history stems from some need to cling to and seize a mate and taking them against their own will at that. But not one specimen has proven useful in being able to capture AND keep their prize. Not one. And I, well let's just say I may be perceived as a prize specimen of female but I resemble more a combative soldier of the male kind than the supposed weaker and gentler maiden in the mist. I am more than their equal and it scares the living shit out of most when they find this out...the hard way!

I have singularly watched a man tear down a relationship he has no idea I helped to create. I was pulling for him, really, but he dug himself in declaring himself above me and without a keeper and found himself capable of defecating and standing in his own filth while the smell of fear treacled from his reproductive organ and out to the sand beneath his feet. It's a beautiful sight and made more so when I nary have to draw sword or gun and aim. Sometimes it IS just the sound of my voice and the winds it is carried upon, though this time no words were actually spoken, by me that is. Only written, and aptly so and enough of that this person provoked an ire that he would never recover from. His superior view of himself proved false as he feared for his life all the while being too proud to admit it and screaming from a thousand miles away and loud enough for my capable ears to prick up on. I love coming out the victor without having to raise a banner. I love the war that was fought and the army that he drew to his noisy self and his declaration of "untouchable."

I, in all my most haughty of attitudes, know full well just how "touchable" each and every living organic thing is and he was a fool in his vanity, whereas I hold mine up in thanks to the gods whose images I am made from. He will burn by the very stakes he carries to drive into my vile, evil and dark form, and he will light that fire too with the smoke billowing from his announcements of a braggard's fashion! Life is beautiful when played out as it is. And I sit and I watch the flames of the "crash and burn" soon to come and am thankful and humble for the side that is at my back. I have every right to be so full of mirth and contempt for him right now and am trying very hard to not transfer it to others of his blood. It is a lifelong battle in me to not identify the misdeeds of one onto another, but I am persevering.

When the night comes to him so will the very foul and contemptible spirits of doom he so thought he had found in me. He called them and they will oblige if only to have something to do in their spare moments from their traditional obligations. As morally corrupt as my kind has been mistaken for, it is no wonder that women through ages receive the blame they do from their stronger mates. Maybe my kind should develop a method to genetically alter in such a manner as to beget more of their species in the "preferred" manner the media has portrayed. Maybe we should use that technology to right a few of the wrongs and empower all females everywhere to enslave their vain masters and tilt the world a little to disrupt the order of things. The new slaves would have it far better than we ourselves have had, those we chose to let live...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Rainy Days of Glory

as the sun sets and I pull my weary bones from the velvety protection I cling to during daylight, there is a storm on the horizon that is rolling in like a welcome mat for the regal of night. I love these times and it is befitting my soul to allow the world's tears to rain down on me and cleanse me, leaving me renewed and content and peaceful.

I love to watch the critters huddle when it comes. They snuggle up close to their mate and weather it through and I coo them and let them know all will be well. I am not modest by any means but it does have a certain Snow Black feel to it for my darker side to be so full of joy and loving when I look upon their much needed embraces. The dog is howling and the cats are lazy and the kids play wickedly indoors as the sky opens up-just now-and the flood of emotion washes down on all and causes all to seize and arrests the further development of hate and crime and ill deeds. Now it is roaring and loud and thunderous and almost seems as if the sky is filled with the gods arguing as to whom they will toy with next. Not I, I am sure of that because they know full well when they made me in their image that this is my hour in the "sun," this is my hour of glory and darkness giving me the signal to go out and venture as a wet beast and view the world when I otherwise wouldn't.

I succumb to their wish and stare out the front door at the mini lakes and pools gathering in flow and take away all the filth that man has lain before it. I stand in the light of a dark day and watch the flashes in the sky as each outburst from one celestial ruler is thrown to another and smile at them, thankfully for the beautiful display and break from my prison. I have done something most wonderful to deserve such a glorious chorus and giggle only slightly at heir debate knowing that somewhere, some Hades-like dark lord is arguing on my and my siblings behalf for this day to come. He cites all that is unclean and compares me to a starry night calling me a supernova and compares my Lobo as the brightest red dwarf and tells his own brothers and sisters the world NEEDS us and needs to see us and to believe in us and if not for these dark days NO one will even know we exist except in the falsely written storybooks and tremendous lies portrayed on stage. I want to dance in the puddles and kick water everywhere like a child at play. I want to hold my kitten and be gathered around by my other felines and just sit in a puddle and watch as my breathing makes ripples in the reflection pool.

I want to be like this forever, dark, cold and wet with the guilt all gone and the shame disappeared. I want to feel glorious like this always and needed too. I want to belong, if only for this short while why  am here at this moment...mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Firsts

there's a moment when you close your eyes and slightly part your mouth open and can feel your heart trying to tap out some unknown code to let the world know this it it. It is a moment we all dream about and one that makes a girl's knees go weak and a man's soul rip in two to make room for his beloved. A kiss can swipe away all pain and fear and hurt and practically everything from a person's mind in one instant. It can change the world...

I remember my first kiss. It was me and some neighborhood boy and my sister and a bunch of other kids. I was eleven and he was the same. All kids back then played little innocent experimental games like Spin The Bottle, Truth Or Dare and my favorite, Seven Minutes In Heaven. (from the wisdom of children...little did they know it really only does only last around seven minutes for most! *giggles) Me and this boy had our turn in the closet, "heaven" and when he kissed me I felt like a big St. Bernard had pounced on me and proceeded to lick me and barrel his big, fat, steamy, yuck in my mouth! Poor Keith, I am leaving his last name out to be kind as we were just kids, screamed in horror when I bit it. Something I would continue to do from that point on but later would make an art of making them WANT me to. But Keith didn't know I wouldn't like his attempt. I didn't either and I would wait another five years before attempting it again. I had pecks and kissies and such from boyfriends, but tongue was off limits. Back then you couldn't get me to eat a piece of rare meat for that very reason, it reminded me of him and his doggy tongue and kisses. Now, well let's just say if they carved it straight from the cow to the plate, I'm all good!

The deal is this. We all have had a first kiss, or even two if you count the first kiss for every bloke and lass. But would you believe most of us had the same sucky one like I did. I have interviewed girlfriends and boyfriends and old people and young people and for the most part, that passionate on screen kiss (From Here to Eternity: the beach scene with Burt Lancaster in case you need a visual) is a myth or rare event in deed. Sex too. Very few of us get that brass ring, the most wonderful moment of our life. But we all build up the expectation and then suffer by the wayside when we find out the silver screen lied to us. But it didn't, really. It didn't lie to One lass and lad. It was everything they hoped for and waited for and were ready for despite the poking and prodding of friends and family and peers telling them they were waiting too long.

I know this lass and watched her head reel afterwards. I watched her world change forever. And I had to counsel her afterwards as to all this surge of feeling and emotion and need and want, and I can only hope I conveyed to her that what she did was NOT wrong but also not right enough to trudge head first into something we both knew she wasn't ready for. I wasn't present for the kiss. I couldn't tell you if he was Burt Lancaster or Don Knotts, nor could I tell you if the sky lit up with comets and shooting stars or lightning bugs hovering close like pixies in the breeze. But I can tell you I saw two kids leave for a walk and two young adults very much in love return to momma's breast, she with a need to spill her secret and he with the most profound and proud grin on his face.

Tears stream down my face recalling it. Why? Because the she was MY little girl and for once a good thing happened to someone I care about and would die for. As adults we want our kids (or should want them) to fare better than we did and have better experiences than we had. We want them to succeed where we failed. I failed to wait letting peer pressure get the best of me and failed to have a good first experience because of it. It set the tone for everyone afterwards too, always leaving me a little expectant and a lot unfulfilled. But my child did succeed and will have that moment for the rest of her life no matter who loves her or whether these two stay together or not. She will look back fondly and have something to tell her kids that is positive, that life is WORTH waiting for, whereas I had nothing but disdain and fear and warnings of doom to bring to her "classroom" with me. The lessons I taught her were tarnished enough to be effective but had a word of hope for her. It was hard to give her that when I so believed it didn't exist. But now...My world has changed too.

I have hope for her and it is real and genuine and true and my though process is changed. Maybe I WILL find that someone who will look at this flawed but spectacular and loving beast and want to kiss me that way, to make me smile for them. To make me smile because it matters to them....mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

My Little Girl Against The World

little Bo Peep has lost her sheep but the wool was once pristine! And when she found her and spent the hour she found the sheep was meek. Today was an awkward day in my history and Lobo's...

I missed her terribly and do all I can do to instill a sense of vigilance on her part to keep herself safe from harm and chaste from the ills of man. Today she is sacrificed at the stake of knowledge and one she needed but that her momma could have waited another ten years for her to get. I couldn't wait for her to return from her dear old daddy's house and it kept me awake well past my witching hour. I passed out around 8:30am and was awoke by her bumbling in my room all giddy and missing mommy. AT 10:00am! She wouldn't stop talking so I figured I'd let her "lull" me to sleep with a foot massage and her incessant need to tell me the whole vaca in one breathe! But my ears pricked up. Some boy named Jordan (yes I will give his first name!) called her on her cell she has at her father's (that I refuse to let her have citing it is not a necessary tool). She used to know him from her old school only now he goes to a different one, and he told her he couldn't wake up and needed her to "talk" to him because that usually works. Only she's never talked to him via phone before but a couple of times and certainly not while he was in his bed.

So Lobo proceeds to tell me how she talked and talked but he said rarely anything and how funny he was, (my daughter is cute) and my ears went beet red. I questioned her and the more she answered me the more I got pissed. This little fucker was using my daughter's voice to imagine her "goodies" (though she doesn't speak dirty or even spoke anything resembling it...and you can take that to the bank!) while he yanked himself off!! WTF!?!? She laughed when I told her, uncomfortably. Then more uncomfortably, and all I could think of was the "long distance" raping of my kid and the using her as an imaginary "cum dumpster" and was infuriated. I almost lashed out at her for being too ignorant to understand how BAD this is! But I resisted. Here was a "friend" of hers who says he likes her and respects her and he used her like a cheap whore to provide his own need...to me whether it was in person or not is irrelevant and those of you with little girls know what the fuck I am mad at!

When I finally got through to her..she went hysterical (I'm glad >phew< she's normal at least and gets it if a little slow to the take) and promised me (she keeps those) that she will block him from her phone and refuse contact with the little piggish bastard. (not her words-MINE!) I thought she was going to be flattered and at the beginning, I even think she was at first...who wouldn't be with that power...in your voice to make them weak! But I threatened her and told her "IF I EVER HEAR THAT NAME EVER EVEN IF IT ISN'T HIM OR THINK SHE KEPT COMMUNICATION WITH HIM THAT I WOULD STRIPE HER FROM HER NECK TO HER ANKLES!" and then quietly affirmed to myself I would do no such thing and then furthered, "If he is unlucky enough to bump into us in public you will need to keep my cell and call your uncle or grandfather because not only would I give him a "what for" but I would make his day a little less easier to pull or tug on himself when I connect his DOTS and push his children so far up into his belly he sings soprano for several weeks if not months!"

Mind you I am pissed AT HIM, not her and would NEVER "stripe" her like I said, but I needed to say something to invoke the fear of "mobe" into her so she remembers this always and knows the difference between a friend and a pig who is only out for her goodies! To her testament, she is a good girl, virgin/never been kissed not even by her own boyfriend (who has had the fear of "mobe" put into him long ago and truly does love her and respect her) and is by my side most 24/7 when not AT school or her father's. Yes, I DON'T let her out of my sight and with KIDS like him do you really have to ask why, let alone grown men and women who lure children for whatever unholy need and harm them and educate them far more than they need?

It reminds me back to a sweet girl you all have heard of, Jessica Lunsford. Her family lived the next town over from us and Lobo was nine-ish when she was brutally raped and murdered. Lobo was her non-relative "twin" and we couldn't go ANYWHERE in the whole county because everyone thought she was Jessica when the poor girl went missing. And I had to educate her then about the ills of man and man-like monsters that lurk out there. She used to stray from me in the stores when she was small. So I would sneak away but take a viewpoint, stealthily and watch her in her moment of panic when she realized she fucked up and was alone with no momma. I am pure evil when it comes to getting the message across. And I loved that panic! We didn't have to "play" that card too often, but from time to time she would screw up and wander away again because she was so inquisitive, but I did my thing and waited for the panic cry and the wail and appeared ready to take her ass off of her legs!

But after Jessica, I sat her down and explained, brutally, what John Couey did to her and how he was able to do it right under the drunken grandparents noses while her father neglected her on a school night to go get laid and drunk himself. Oh yes, I was brutal and I was brutal today too. But after our little talk six years ago she never wandered again. And I am thankful for that. When her friends tease her about not being able to run the streets she tells them off and tells them obviously their parents/guardians (she knows this word too because of blended families) didn't give a rat's batooty about them! YAY! I won! She was safe...until today, when the predator was her friend.

This stinks. She got "pawed" at in school by girls (lesbians but still inappropriate) and a couple of young men she is friend with and it infuriated me then. Why? Why can't school be about school like it was in my day and why can't holding hands be enough!? I had already had my first kiss at 11 (seven minutes in heaven "with someone even less experienced than you!" lmao) a few times but then didn't again until I was 16. She will be 16 in five months! And she has the singing voice of an angel. Which was the funny part.

Later in the day when we were shopping it finally dawned on her I was right. She told me he has always liked her "that way" and it was because he liked her singing. And she put two together and realized today he liked her singing enough to wank to her voice and it made her shudder. Today, her innocence is getting carved out more and more, too damn soon. I don't know if I can take this or much more of this anyways...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Again For Those of You...

I am genetically mutated in every cell..there is no fixing it and there is no way to tell who was the responsible parent as neither have the mutation and both refuse genetic testing...either one or both could be responsible and franklyIi could care less as to which as neither cared for whether I lived or died. They were notified that one or both were carriers so I did my part. I also notified siblings because even though I am the only non human born of human parents, they may carry the gene to their offspring and the key to "longevity" in this species is to "diagnose" it early. I again did my part and it is up to my siblings (all have refused) to genetically get mapped to find out if they are carriers and they don't want to know. Though in their shoes I would in case my child/grandchild suffered as did my sibling.

As for the disease (if you want to call it that )itself, it is NOT a disease. I am perfectly designed for living the lifestyle of my forefathers. Unfortunately, the world (by world I mean society) was not created for my species. Actually, we were hunted to near extinction by religious zealots looking to blame everything but the kings and queens who screwed shit up for greed and needed a scapegoat.

I passed the mutation to my one living child after the body sacrificed 7 human children (to which I found out years later I cannot bear because my body's ecosystem is inhospitable for human child) one of which was a human twin to Lobo, now 15.

I am Wamphyri ("i" =another i if it is plural) and you will NOT find that word in any English Dictionary because it is Our word for what we are, in our language. After interviewing my family after the discovery two years ago, I was informed of "myths" on both sides of the genetic anomaly that dated 2+centuries ago. Never knew a living relative and I was an outkast and freak in my own community.

I am allergic to ALL light, sun, artificial, candle/fire if it be too bright and show no signs of distress on the outside making it difficult for medicine to diagnose and the naked eye. When someone has this ailment it is ingrained from birth and they grow into it like blindness or paralysis or deafness.. it is all I know but conveying it as a child to family and friends only got me punished severely (abused) or made fun of because they could not believe what they didn't see. Pain is a matter of perception and we have an unusually high tolerance that stems from being forced to accept the life given if even painfully for the rest of your awakened days.

I do NOT burn or combust or "melt" like traditional folklore would tell and am not immortal though do "lord" it over humans as to the strength (to which doctors will readily testify to at great length) and heightened senses of the nose, mouth, ears and touch. To your kind I am a real genuine living myth, a "vampire" (I hate that word because of the mockery the world has made of us) and not welcome in ANY circle unless it is to mock and poke fun at or "hunt" or emulate falsely.

Yes, I am an angry person, not all the time, but within tolerable limits and very warranted if I do say so. There are other forms of similar diseases all "clumped" into the same category (porphyrias)...several I think 7 in total including mine and 2 are referred to as the vampire disease, of which one is genetically true(yours truly). The other porphyrias are also afflictions of the sun or light in various degrees and most of those manifest into what is a false "media"  vampire who blisters and melts and such in the sun.

Though I do not disfigure outwardly (eternal youth is one of the myths that is true and you can see so for yourself in my photos as I am 40 and barely look over 20) my internals are "almost done" because our life's normal expectancy is 30yrs. I am even more rare because of the fact that I am the oldest Living "found" Wamphyri who did NOT have medical interference to prolong longevity. Most are discovered/diagnosed by the age of 18 and any discovered after 30 are done so through autopsy...post mortem that is.

So I am a genuine, bona fide myth come to life in the 21st century after remaining asleep (the gene that is) for so long and find the world distasteful and trying to raise my child in the old ways much to the chagrin of her other family units. I am proud (as if you couldn't tell) and don't feel there is a damn thing wrong with me. I accept that I am dying and happily. But always reminded by the ignorant that I am abandoning my child (to which she knows differently) and that I should want to "acclimate" to the human ways of life to so keep myself viable for testing and research and to be miserable watching the stain of races war among themselves and squabble over things that don't belong to any one certain species.

I blog, write and am a chef and musician (vocal and lyricist) and am a cripple (comes with old age and I am the equivalent of your 90+yrs) and cantankerous and happy for the end is near. I raised Lobo genuine and true (yes even passed a little of the sour taste I have for MOST but not all of your kind onto her to protect her and keep her vigilant so as not to succumb to the sheep and lemmings' wishes) and she is a fine example of the type of peoples we come from.

My family despises me, my lovers feared me and most people of authority do so as well, though I have not given anyone reason and am not a violent person.

We don't and NEVER have (myth untrue) eaten or drank of human flesh and there is no documentation of it EVER occurring, though I have stumbled across many articles of cannibalism by your own peoples. My people do NOT come from Transylvania or the Carpathian mountains and you have to be able to read old Russian text to find the true articles on our beginnings. We are from an area now called Latvia in the Soviet and all points northeast from there up in the Siberian mountains and the Ural mountains.

Our native tongue is a blend of Asian language and Cyrillic dialect and the names given our peoples (nosferatu, vampire, Tepes)are insults. Nosferatu is a Latin/Franco term derived from a "blood thirsty beast of the damned" and Tepes means shape-shifter in Romanian and Vampire is an Anglicized version of Wamphyri...pronounce "wahm-fear-ee" in our native tongue.

The family name is truly Dracu,l that most people's are familiar with, and all 4000-5000 of us in existence today are kin to that empire and related by blood and bone. There are 40 billion of you and your kind fears mine! (lol) I have more in common with a Russian stranger than my own father who bore me or my own mother. Lmao...

The actual gene was given its Latin name once discovered after the western European Christians unearthed my grandfather's body and named the gene "draculi" after the family name. Plants and I and small lay creatures are more kin than you and I despite being both bi-peds. No doctor or researcher has unearthed more information (thank god for the super highway that is the www) than I have and most people do NOT take me seriously. Not even the medical world until it was staring right in their face! I am classified by medicine and the government and science as a "sub" species because the word "sub" denotes "less than" meaning they fear us (unjustly) and  so feel the need to label and keep us in our place.

A female can mate with a human but more often than not only carry her own kind. If the male is Wamphyri then his bride can carry both human and inhuman children making me suspect my father as the culprit.

We don't fly, sparkle, shape-shift, fear garlic (or the sun), eat people (to us this is piggery beyond disgusting) or drink human blood though we can and digest it better than a human can. A human eating/drinking of themselves will most often get ill and may even die whereas we wouldn't suffer as much except mentally because we consider you unclean.

We are intellectuals, artists, smiths, manufacturers, athletes and do most everything you would do, but sometimes a little faster and better for our endurance levels are well above the limitations of men. I am dying and suffer massive bone loss and an abundant lack of strength and am weaker than I was 5 years ago but still can lift 300+lbs should the need arise (would suffer the strain later but could and have done so)...at my top peak physical strength and in all my glory could bench 500+lbs to the amazement of coaches and phys ed teachers alike but we choose not to display that kind of prowess for fear that it will create a social disruption because mankind cannot handle the competition.

We do eat raw flesh-'tis why I became a chef and rarely eat at all...I used to eat only 2xs a week and survived on little more than sugar, alcohol, cigarettes and caffeine (chocolat was/is my drug of choice) so the myth of us "never" eating is partially true because it is rarely seen when we do and when we need to feed traditionally we heed grace for the weaker stomachs of our cousins (you )and try not to offend by the display of imbibing our traditional fare in front of you so as to cause you no fear or duress. This is easier today because even your kind has developed a taste for raw food like carpachio, ceviche and other raw dishes that are considered a delicacy.

My reasoning for discussing it in such great length is because so many have asked and want to know. Can I speak Russian (very little and am still studying) but I can speak some or enough to vacation in French, Spanish, Greek, Italian, Norse, Dutch, Bulgarian, Macedonian, Native American (Kiowa and Lakota though I am Oneida and Chiricahua Apache).

My pride stems from the meanest royal bloodlines ever that course through my veins as I am a daughter of Napoleon, Geronimo and Vladimir Dracule...three of the most notorious bastards to ever come up against when they feel threatened (I do not feel threatened by you or your kind specifically but on and as per basis have in the past).

I apologize for my haughty attitude and mean nothing against you in it and am planning on using this as a post for my blog. I also apologize for the length of it and yes, some of the things deliberately left in the dark, so to speak. It is not a new lifestyle for me...just a new place and finally one I can understand and accept after being thrown about for 4 decades and cast aside and mocked. If you have any questions I did not answer let me know and I will try to do so to the best of my ability,....Sincerely yours love~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves

My Favorite Disdain

I have noticed lately that I have become disdainful for so many things. The older I get the wiser and if wisdom denotes disdain or begets it, then I am bearing the sin and curse of a legacy upon my shoulders. As of recent I have noticed that one true fact rises to the cream of the matter in that I have a severe utter unhappiness with religion these days. The funny things is I am a devout agnostic believer who preaches day in and day out to her child and others' about respect for the gods that be. Only I see all around us what trouble believing has caused and what wars have stemmed from a difference in point of view and cannot help but wonder how the world would be had she been a purely scientific entity.

Far be it from me to offend any one people's god(s)in particular on the concept of existence and beginnings, it just escapes me that if we were created in their own image, as is implied by most all religions and knowing how difficult it is for some to keep track of their own day let alone another's, than how is it that one supreme power or a collective of supreme powers can keep track of every living thing that is here whether man, beast or child? I dream of the same things you all do of peace and love and a perfect nirvana that just doesn't exist. I have had problems eating the religion that has been served and liking it and preferred to find my own examples of divinity. No one religion is any more impressive in my book and I believe that if there truly IS an awe inspiring deity or deitious body out there, then they are so spectacular that they don't have the necessity to be in the scheme of having a name. "They" don't answer to us so whatever tool or moniker of respect we have in our own native tongues is how "they" must be addressed.

I was watching television and noticed all the advertisements for religion that exist. Not just the "let's go to my church" fare but the stuff that exploits religion to send a message and get the sheep to the pen of whatever it is they are selling. And how about them sheep, huh? Interesting choice of analogy to use, the only thing worse would be a lemming. Let's all follow the herd blindly and not think for ourselves and challenge authority and invent something spectacular and become what destiny had intended for us to become. My thoughts on religion are unfounded and in some part based upon speculation considering the amateur investigations into historical pasts that left a bad taste in my mouth. For the most part the earth was spattered with several hundreds of different but similar multi-theist religions until the advent of what we call "civilization" when at some point, some lazy bastard claiming superiority declared that his wizards and alchemists of science could speak to the beyond and and the spirits contained therein. In truth these royal liars wanted a means to impose upon the masses and exploit their virtue in service to the regal household. Chieftains, tribal rulers and elders long before the advent of "civilized man" were responsible for the passing of myth and deity-related tales of heroism and gifted endowment. It was a tool to encourage youth and also as a guideline for life. But this civilization's birth has beget one supreme being in it's pride and made all other kneel in fealty to it and "do" as it's bidding was handed down.

We aren't sheep or lemmings. We weren't made to serve others as slaves or to flock together. It would be hard for them to fathom that the image we were made into was one of complete servitude to another sentient being. Why would someone want to create that existence for others? So when I see these wars and laws and decrees handed out and know that it is the lay person who was persuaded to fight and donate goods to a cause that they reap no benefit from, it gets me extremely mad. Aren't we made after "self-serving" intelligent beings? Shouldn't we then become creators of a place to be proud of not demolishers and destructors of all that has been created? And then my eyes pop open at the two o'clock hour and I hear that if I want to flock with more "Christian" people like me and build a sexual and personal relationship that I should start it with the Pope in mind, with someone stupid enough to take him into consideration as a deal-breaker if I don't kiss his ring? And I know of many of them, dated them, bed them and left them in their ignorance.

Most all religion has taught us that we have free will so long as it coincides with the will of another who has no right to exact his/her will upon me if I had free will to begin with! The beginning of this nonsense was so very long ago and it seems along the way humans have given up their free will for the comfy false sense of security that comes with expectations of a power of mythos to intervene on their unlucky behalves. The problem with this is when several people or groups of people become overwhelmed and feel abandoned by this resolve or worse, feel like they are undeserving though have no sin or provocation, they have no one to turn to and have lost all sense of selves as they watch the more undeserving get "ahead" and leave them behind with the label attached to their forehead that they aren't "chosen" or special or blessed. They did nothing to be shunned but are just the same. It doesn't make sense and it controls people into a flock of sheep and a herd to do as the rest would do or suffer some later consequences that may or may not exist. It is the blind leading the blind and the few select privileged dictating and orchestrating who benefits and who don't. And I assure you, if you aren't providing a service to propel that supreme power or force or collective group of selected "deserving" forward then you most certainly not only do not benefit, but you will be punished in the here and now.

"These" days need to be put past and people need to stop looking for a short cut way to some afterlife salvation and excuse their poor behaviors as the "devil's actions" and not their own. We need to be responsible for global warming, war, loss of life, extinction of certain species of man (including the near extinction of my own breed which though different but full of value especially in a time of apocalypse and the future dark turn of events that scientists expect to unfold) and the annihilation of fossil fuels and resources that cannot be replaced in our day or in a timely manner. Life is special and precious and we use religion as a means to fight and take it away and invoke fear when any god(s) that exists having created you and I in their own images wouldn't make us to war, but to propel them and their image forward and branch out and spread life and a message of intelligence and superiority. If the Star Ship Enterprise did exist and came across this planet with its war and death and famine and self-abuse of its top species, it would leave post haste and never look back. Stop behaving like children with a new ball and a faeri tale and lies to make yourselves more important and start behaving like responsible adults and ensure that there WILL be an Earth for millenia to come as we grow and promote prosperity for all. ~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Sexuality of Individuals/Adult Sex-Ed: Part 3

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Protection & Tutilage

if it's safe you'll know and when it's not you will be scared to not do a thing. People take for granted the civic duty they have to be diligent in protecting each other and propelling one another forward through life. There is truth to be said for the tome "You are only as strong as your weakest link" and today there are many weak links infecting society.

Of course, I consider myself one to a degree but it wasn't always this way. And I can toot my own horn and give you the tales of what an ambitious twat I used to be, but I can also tell you my motives weren't always entirely clean, still aren't. The difference between your lovely mobe today and ten years ago is that I have come to accept who I am and how flawed I am. I have come to embrace my inner bitch or bastard, if you will. I make no excuses for my behavior other than to say "it suits me and makes me entertained" and for that I provoke ire in others and the misconception that I actually planned on pissing them off or showing them up by what I think and say. The truth is I don't give a damn enough about anyone to orchestrate such an obnoxious theory! And I don't give enough thought to you to do so, unless it proves lucrative to me. If there is attention given it is only given because there is a perfect opportunity to martyrdom or everlasting salvation, to buy one's own easy street in the hereafter. Not a moment's thought beyond thy self. And I am not ashamed to admit it either. Better an honest scoundrel than a lying zealot!

It falls on me as the best capable to push my child in the directions that I see fit and protect her at all costs to ensure she has a full and satisfying life. Yes, she has a father and grandparents and even a half sister floating about Massachusetts these days but she has been with me as her tutor of life since day one. There is nothing, absolutely nothing that we cannot talk about whether it be sex, life, death, disease or any other inappropriate topic that comes to mind of the more darker side of humanity. I know a few of you will raise eyebrows at the thought of a mother sharing the secrets of the lesser likable personality disorders with a child, but I felt it necessary for her to know that there ARE all types of individuals out there and that not all will approve of her or like her or put her interests first. Such is life.

The truth is I robbed her of her innocence and replaced it with something far more valuable, wisdom, the wisdom of ages and experience and have given her a head start on adulthood and the right maps to navigate the black seas the come before and after some of the more tumultuous storms. She knows what she lost and is somewhat slightly saddened by that fact but also thankful for what she has gained. Any loss is a suffered one but when replacing it with something far more valuable we see an advantage that heals our hearts quicker. She is a devious tart and self-serving one and for that I am glad. No one will push her around and no one will take advantage of her that she herself hasn't allowed to. Many people tell me how bad they can't stand my kid and when I ask them why they read off the riot act of her insolent behavior (as they call it) when she defends herself. In my country, we are presumed innocent until proven guilty only some people feel children and young adults have no business in defending themselves. My family is used to subservient children that are obedient to a fault, if you asked them to jump off a bridge they would all comply. Only Lobo would question your motives and actions in that. And, she would make an educated decision herself as to whether or not it would be a lucrative venture or have devastating effects to her safety. She stands her ground and when she does I am so proud of her and so full of hope for her future. She isn't afraid of anyone, and if she is, she is bold enough to push the fear aside and hold steadfast! Too many kids fail to do this and are intimidated by authority or betrayed by their elders and rebel without a clear plan or thought, putting them at serious risk or injury.

We're at the point where I see I am no longer needed outside of advice every now and then and have come to spend the bulk of my time observing and letting her fail at will and also to watch her when she succeeds. It is hard to balance praise with tolerance because I have to teach her that though some negative values are necessary, they are not always good to fall back on. So, when she is "in action" being her devious and conniving self, I am proud but I don't reflect it to her often. When she is challenged wrongly I champion to her cause. And in my family no matter how wrong an adult be they deem themselves always "righter" than the children and feel the children should give way and yield to the tantrums of grown persons when they themselves are not allowed to behave in such manner. There is no "do as I say and not as I do value" in my home and there are no monsters under the bed. The two monsters sleep IN the beds and are a force to be reckoned with. So protect her, I did and teach her I am still doing but hold her back, never. I will not punish her for the shitty rearing I had and she will not suffer for the lack of proper male upbringing because I came equipped with that capability too.

Lobo is perfect and loved and protected, even when she is away from me by court ordered visitation, and I am in her head twenty-six hours a day! My own family echoes in my head still, and echoes all the warnings of not surpassing their glory and not bucking the system and not amounting to anything and not valuing anything unless it is to THEIR benefit. Lobo's mind is echoed with you cans and you wills, it's okay to fail, you need to do what's best for you and...I love you, more than anything.~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Sexuality of Individuals/Adult Sex-Ed: Part 2

gratification comes in many ways. It can come through the approval of a deed done well or an achieved goal and can seep away with the balance of disapproval as well. As intelligent species go, you would think we would have all learned to value the difference in others as much as we value the difference in our possessions or other organic matter. It isn't so. We start with thy self here...

THIS MATERIAL IS NOT SUITED FOR PERSONS UNDER THE AGE OF 18 YEARS~mobe


For most of you, we were raised with tons of approval. Every poop and every tear was congratulated by our parents and adult supervisors. It set most of you up for folly in the seeking of this constant approval in life from others, and no one person ever realizing that they themselves are the only one who needs to approve of what you do. We lost touch with ourselves by letting others provide for us what we ourselves can provide, and one good way to take back control and boost one's self esteem is to love one's self.

Pleasuring one's self should never be viewed as bizarre or filthy. It is not the intention that is filthy, but there are instances when doing it to the discomfort of others does take away from the nobility in the deed and duty to yourself. Let's face it...when I don't want to watch it will be a cold day in hell but I am aware there are others whose minds are just too fragile to handle the maturity of such an act. And if you think it is dirty, look at an infant at play for any great length of time and tell me you think it is dirty. Since we could reach our sexual organs we have been exploring them and playing with them. How else would we be able to convey accurately what we want? I have seen sonograms of friends children in the womb with their hands in or on their genitalia and it didn't disturb or arouse me. It fascinated me as to when human sexuality begins.

Massage your head (the thinking one, and for those of you who need further clarity it is the one with TWO eyes!) and scalp with your fingers and close your eyes. Feel the tingling sensation and the ripple effect of the goosebumps down your back right straight to your crotch! Yes, they all go there. Now move your fingertips to your chin and the soft tissue at the beginning of your throat...same effect! You are wired for pleasurable touch and wired for your OWN touch. The body's receptors lead right straight to the reproductive organs because it is intended that survival of the species depends on the copulation of said species and what better way to get me, you and anyone else to want to bump uglies than to make it feel good!

So, how do we know what does and doesn't without completely freaking ourselves out? We don't but most of us accidentally get bumped or rubbed the right way and quickly learn. We then tend to explore that feeling and reproduce it. The shame is I have met many men and women who knew nothing about their body and how it works. I have had to teach these individuals where the hell their erogenous zones are and how to use them to their benefit. I get there are enough religious folks carrying tabernacles who would burn me at the stake for the information given, but what the hell...I can die however I choose!

No one person can tell you what makes you happy or provide it for you so long as you yourself don't know. All I can tell you is that the majority of the population responds to certain things exactly the same. When they haven't it was always due to either psychological interference and/or medical. Girls know this if they have ever liked performing fellatio on men. You will come across the one sucker that no matter how hard you chew or how gentle you suck and lick they really just don't respond. They are physically desensitized. Out of all the lucky men who have had the pleasure of that treat from me there have been three who had difficulty, though I was still able to make them reach orgasm after several attempts and keeping my own head cool. Afterwards I would have a session with them to discuss the lack of feeling and to problem solve as to it being due to injury, birth defect or disease. Diabetes is a big culprit with older males and overweight males. Medication like anti-inflammatory can quell sexual response in males too. The purpose is to get heated and "inflamed" and engorged and such and you over medicate to the point of flacidity. Injury from sports and combative bouts would be the next greatest deal to interfere and old age as well. But there are a very select few men who are genetically born to be wired differently in that the glans feels nothing at all. It is a shame and I never would have thought to meet one, but have recently and feel nothing but sadness. For them they truly know NOT what they are losing out on and have coped by ignorance and indifference. So they feel to recognize there is a problem until some smarmy sex kitten with a big ass tells them. Good thing is there are ways to "rewire" them just like you would any other nerve-disorder. Either way all of these issues, stave diabetes and old age are correctable if one wants to pursue that objective.

You have to want to love you. Just as if you were on a date and things either did or didn't click and there are days where I just plain don't feel up to loving me! Even weeks go by and then I can't keep my hands off of me...The key is your comfortability. Start small, with caresses and such. Whispered words in the form of role play works wonders for the mood when one is lacking of one. I like to say the things I hear so often from "them" when I am touching and imagining their actions as if I had a second "player" in the room with me. I call myself names and coo myself and let myself know what I want and think in "their" voice in my head and put myself in a scenario. I touch and it is rhythmic with the action playing out in my mind. Sometimes there are toys and other times none at all, and even different times when there has been more than one toy and I was a very naughty date alone. But I know my body and what I like and when the situation arises where I have a lazy lover or selfish lover, I can get my own self where I need to be in as short a time as it takes the fucker to go fart or take a piss! (been there, done that, used the t-shirt to wax my car!)

I look at self gratification the same way I do cooking. I love getting my hands dirty and the smells of what I am dealing with and the difference in textures in the things that I touch. I even like to play within my pain thresholds and stretch those parameters every chance I get. Cooking is similar when done from scratch and if you eat from a box out of the microwave, chances are you treat sex and gratification the same way, too damn fast! Take your time. Don't watch the clock and set aside time for yourself in the shower or your bed or the couch when you're home alone. It's your house, do what you gotta do.

I know you were expecting graphic play by play of how to masterbate. Let's be realistic, how I do it is not the same way as your wives or yourselves or your friends. We all like certain positions and music and lighting. We all like different things so it serves no purpose to get into that much detail other than to arouse the hell out of everyone (which isn't a bad idea really if only we could get everyone simultaneously to read this and get aroused and stop fighting and warring and arguing with one another!) and then you wouldn't have been able to make it through the education. There is education in permission and you need to grant YOURself that, not me...I'm just cheering go for it!~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Sexuality of Individuals/Adult Sex-Ed: Part 1

libido varies from one individual to another. I have been counseling friends and acquaintances for what seems and eternity about sex and sexuality, libido and inhibitions. Now it is time for me to put to word what great knowledge I have amassed on the subject of sex and share it with you all. My purpose in doing this is quite selfish because my own libido is taking a back seat to circumstance and I'm not getting any. And all this "do-gooder" crap is taking its toll! It isn't that I don't care and such because I do, but I also enjoy the folly of "man" in that they create more problems for themselves than they are worth. Having said that this will be my feeble and NON humble attempt to educate you all and erase the inflicted ignorance brought on by family and community and social expectations that you collectively share. I can promise this information will be delivered to you in a funny, sad, scientific, opinioned and serious nature. I warn you that once the door of knowledge is cast open there are no excuses for ignorance and you will never be able to go back there again...knowledge for the most part is permanent and you will no longer be able to hide behind the curtain of "I didn't know" any longer...

THIS MATERIAL IS NOT SUITED FOR PERSONS UNDER THE AGE OF 18 YEARS~mobe

I started this series with the word Libido because that is the beginning of everyone's personal "id" when it comes to sexuality. For whatever reasons, we vary in a libidinal manner and some can blame organic issues (meaning medical for those of you having a hard time following) and others can blame maniacal issues (meaning mental but I'm funnier this way). Either way sexual malfunction or an inability to sync up with one's partner is NOT unique and, here's the good part, you are all able to be fixed! (Ha ha wouldn't it be funny if I meant sterilized?)

Take for instance a married couple who were all vested in the love making when it was satisfying and mutual and "new"...ahh...the new part of love. I am going to focus in this instance on the middle aged variety who seem to have malfunction that would appear mostly on the part of the woman. During the course of menopause our bodies wreak havoc on us and mess with our psyche as well as our physical well being. It happens even to the Wamphyri (for those that love mobe's uniqueness) and lower creatures too as well as males of all types. I had a friend tell me his life was not happy but not without happiness and I asked him what was wrong. The reply was she doesn't give him any or feel like she wants to.

This is normal at their age and it takes its toll in the form of rejection time and again. I have seen more marriages and relationships end on that one factor alone. I asked him if he though it was organic and wouldn't you know it he didn't know! That is unacceptable as you should know. You should have known the first time you noticed a pattern of her rejection. I asked about the nature of their sexual play (yes, I have that right!) and what he did on his part and what she did on her part. His response was to let me know how easy he was to get off! Of course he is easy if he is doing it...hell, I can make myself cum around at LEAST 12 times in 2 hours! But you already admitted through silence that you and your partner don't talk and communicate and so, I have a suspicious feeling they don't navigate each other's seas either.

He is content where he is at aside from her cold shoulder. She may have hormonal imbalance and/or low self esteem that comes along with middle age when we realize as women we are starting to look like our mothers or worse, our grandmothers! Let's assume her issue is purely organic in nature. Vaginal dryness and loss of lust is common in menopausal women. It is hard to go to your mum and ask her if your dad tore her up at that age (lol) and what to do to fix it. So women aren't talking to women either (I see a pattern here). It hurts physically to be touched and leaned on when one's body temperature goes through the change with you. It hurts to be touched sexually when your breasts are tender and sore 24/7 like when you were a child developing into a woman. It hurts to be "entered" when you are not moist and ready for it despite wanting it, and these are all things that can be over come.

There are thousands of lubricants to be had and explored online and at adult stores as well as pharmacies and some discount department stores. I have ONE personal favorite because it is not only odorless, tasteless and works great but it was originally used to massage organs for transplant and has one of the lowest allergic reaction factors out of all I have seen on the market. It is called Eros Bodyglide by "pjur" and is super concentrated. Google "pjur" for more information. I use it as a personal lubricant even without the necessity of intercourse. There are other lubricants that have temperature sensation and tastes added to them. These can be fun but I would recommend bathing/showering after use and intercourse because leaving them on the skin longer increases the potential for allergic reaction.

When it comes to tissue irritation like breasts and such, cool or warm compresses work well. You may think this is maddening and impossible to deal with during sex but you will find that a warm mouth that is GENTLE and not forceful and needy will invoke a desired response. Only you have to remember she will still hurt once she is aroused and you will need to CONTINUE the gentle play in order for the duration to be pleasurable for both. There will be other times to play "Me TARZAN-You JANE!" I have made love to many a man who had a sore phallus from our last night's raucous and this works both way ladies. Don't ride the bronco and "pop" him over and over when he is bruised (unless of course he likes this and is the perfect candidate for mobe's sado-maso side!) and don't use your teeth either!

Mentally speaking there is no way to convey in words that someone is desired when they feel frumpy or inferior or ugly. The only way to convince a woman (or man) that they are wanted is to show them. Caresses well meant is a start, but they have to be what the person wants and not needy on your behalf. Sure a body massage is great but people fail to recognize tell tale signs that the person is either ready or not for a move forward. This we will discuss further down the road. For now think on it, chew it and feel free to question or comment on whatever you want to share either here or FACEBOOK via my wall or our "page" below:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Mobes-Infinite-Disdain/180447431986468

if you wish to remain anonymous then it would be best to comment here at the bottom of the blog and check back frequently for your answers or to private message my via my personal page below:

http://www.facebook.com/mobiuschic

looking forward to hearing from you~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.

Infatuation and the Closet of Skeletons

I am as infatuated with the human form as are most of you. I lust for what seems to be the perfect companion and still lose in the end when it comes to what I need or what their needs require. For this is my opus and a soap opera for all of you as well.

What I can't grasp are the individuals that gravitate to the unorthodox as if they feel they are unworthy of something better. I am not a perfect specimen of my creed but still feel worthy beyond what I see most of my friends feel and such. I do like a different sort of man or woman, and it would seem that my parameters as to what is acceptable are wider in spectrum than my peers. Infatuation is only as good as the eyes that can see or the ears that can hear. We use our senses to select a mate or lover and companion. And when we are hurt by this person our eyes become wide and our ears prick up and pick up on things they overlooked in the lust of a moment.

This is where I am at. So many skeletons in my closet from past mistakes, whether mine or theirs, keep me wondering if I could ever go back in there. The problem is I have fought so hard to free myself from that closet when I was a child that I see no need to go backwards in time to the inner darkness that lurks there. I know those men and women and I know the sting of the failure that was our relationship. And, I know my part in it. The truth is each and every one of them is a fairly good person if only they had the right accompaniment to them. This one had the greatest eyes and that one kissed good but she was a dedicated and loyal friend whereas that one was a good father. Each had their own value in my eyes and ears and I loved them all and still care a great deal for most of them. Only now, after that sting we call the end, I see the big ears with the pretty eyes, and the lazy ass with the loyalty and the controlling attitude with the fatherhood of the year award. It is hard to go somewhere when you have been burned no matter how infatuated you used to be. At least it is for me anyway, and it makes it even hard to move forward when you fall in love with the person's family and friends. You lose so much when something ends and the only infatuation I still feel is a lingering loyalty and feeling of caring for the other people who I had come to adore. The people who also suffered either silently or out loud in the break-up and the people who I have come to call friend, daughter, son, mother, father or whatever title they held of importance in my heart.

We lose sight of what matters when our hearts are broken and fight and cling to something that just wasn't meant to be only to keep looking back and slowing down progress when we should be moving ahead and finding another object of affection until we get it right. Sure many people argue about what love is and isn't and will throw religion into the chaos and throw ideals and data to make their argument for staying together long after the petals fall from the rose. I just see no need in prolonging the inevitable in these situations and will confess to cutting things off at the root on more than one occasion and may have cut someone loose I shouldn't have-so, I look back and I wonder, I make mistakes and waste valuable time. I should be moving forward and letting them go and have closure but they keep hounding me and sometimes I keep hounding them out of habit or the need to remain falsely loyal and care for someone who didn't care much for me. It is time to grow up, mobe, and let sleeping dogs lay in their own filth and move forward and not look back. It is time to erase some more pictures and addresses and clear out some more friends' lists and let them go. They can stay in the closet or leave at will, but I am going to make a concerted effort to not turn the key and go there again...~mobe's love to her all and her all to her loves.