Day 156 - "Why Do I Always Fall In Love With The Wrong Woman?" - Part 2

Musings From The Heart

An Essay A Day For A Year

By Roe

Day 156 June 4, 2012

“Why Do I Always Fall In Love With The Wrong Woman

Part 2

Females and males that are constantly attracted to and fall in Love with toxic and issue laden and fucked up mates are females and males that are toxic and issue laden and fucked up themselves, and the buzz of attraction and the buzz of Love is sexualized pain and sexualized defensiveness reciprocated between both partners. It is of course hot and heavy and passionate and living and loving on the back of an exciting,  bucking bull, but the hot, hopeful Love felt is simply a fetish of sating oneself on unconscious pain so as not to ever feel the real pain of being trampled by Mommie bull or Daddie bull.  And so we defend ourselves from the fear of bucking bulls by being attracted to them and riding them and believing that we love it.  The Love felt is also the hope and risk and fetish of being able to ride out the incensed bull and in the end have a sweet calf that loves only us, forever and ever. This is not Love, but fetish based self-deprecation of a hopeful and injured child simply repeating their own sad and abusive childhoods by being in relationships with sad and abusive replacements for their own sad and abusive parents.

Any female that has ever been abused in any way by their male, or drawn into drama and painful issues of his, did exactly 50% of their own part to bring pain and doom upon themselves.  Any female that returns for more abuse from a neurotic, sick male in pain is simply back with her abusive, neurotic, sick Daddy, and she is therefore an abusive, neurotic, sick female that is getting off on her martyrdom, just like she experienced as a child.  All couples rival each other and rebel against each other and deny each other and egg each other on and provoke each other and poke at and hurt each other, and on and on, just like their Mommies and Daddies did to each other, and just like their Mommies and Daddies did to them. 

We are not attracted to and don’t fall in Love with persons with whom we feel no attraction, no buzz, no allure, no WOW!, and no YIKES, and attraction and buzz and WOW! And YIKES is sexual, and sexual on the light and dark side.  Women make Love to the good men that they love, but women fuck the bad men that they hate, and men make Love to the good women that they love and fuck the bad women that they hate. A lot can be learned from a relationship by paying attention to whether the sex is loving or fucking. The perfect person for us, meaning loving and supportive and elevating and true, does not even show up on our radar when we are fucked up, and this great person also does not register a fuck up like us. Why would we and why would they?  Cobras attract weasels, and eventually one must die. Cobras do not attract koala bears, and weasels do not attract butterflies. No sweet and good woman has ever attracted or fell in Love with an asshole, and no good and devoted man has ever been attracted to or fell in Love with a bitch. We only get what we need and ask for and expect, and wrong can only equate with wrong, and issues can only beget issues.

Love relationships are about sex and mating and procreation, and if we do not feel sexy or sucky-fucky with our opposite sex it is doubtful that we will ever fall in Love with them, or ever realize that they are the right or “wrong” ones.  Romantic Love relationships are and are meant to be visceral, genital, sexualized displays of power and attraction and degradation and repulsion, and most commonly fucked up people fall in “repulsion” with their opposite sex, yet feel it as Love, and this is a recreation of childhood.  Women fall in Love with biker dudes and bruiser dudes and adventurers and mongers, and men fall in Love with tatted chicks and promiscuous girls and wild girls and sluts, and then we all spend the rest of our relationships trying to change our partners into just the opposite, as if we can turn Mommy or Daddy around and make everything better again.  This is not Love but living childhood pain as a fetish of adult excitement and hope for happiness, through other people as proxies. No person can ever fulfill our childhood needs or fix our childhood problems, and when we strive to make ourselves happy or fulfill our lives through our false Loves and Lovers, we are most definitely wrong, and we will only attract and fall in Love with the wrong ones.

The beautiful irony of beautiful Love, is that there is no such thing as the wrong Love or wrong person for us.  If we are attracted to someone and fall in Love with them, they are the right ones for us, and we have just recreated our childhood paradigm, and we have just created a miraculous looking glass into our childhood hope and joy and childhood trauma and deprivation that potentially can take us all the way back to our pure and healthy selves.  Our lovers and mates are meant to be our triggers and transferences and proxies, that is what soulmate-dom is about and for, and that is true Love when we can realize that we became attracted to and fell in Love with an abusive loser in pain, and we then realize that we ourselves must be abusive losers in pain, and we resolve to get to better times together with our mates, something Mommy and Daddy on both sides failed to do. 

The goal and beauty of Love is to be able to survive the pain and abuse, and be able to heal and grow, and be able to overcome and prevail. But this requires both lovers and mates to be on the same page, with the same humility and devotion, with the same hope and dream of surviving and improving.  The failure of all relationships always boils down to the motive and intent of both parties, and the dissolution of all relationships  rests upon the realization that both persons are in pain, but one or the other or both are unwilling or disinterested in healing and repair.  The only possibility that pain turns to “wrong person” and separation and grudges and resentment is either that we were never in Love to begin with, or that our own “wrong”  or the “wrong” of our mates is too large to be able to face and heal the pain or problems.

It is time that we all say:  “”Why am I always the wrong person for the ones that love me?”  Blaming fucked up people that we are attracted to and fall in Love with, as if we are innocent or victims, is self-deprecation and abusive, so we must realize that we are using and abusing innocent victims for our own games of personal neurosis, and they are the doing the same with us.  Any person with problems of Love of any kind had parents with problems with Love, and if we go back far enough, we are all innocent and victimized children traumatized and deprived by our parents.  Let us not continue to repress or hide the fact that the real original “wrong” man was Daddy, and the original “wrong” woman was Mommy.  The prototype for asshole and monger and bitch and slut are Daddy and Mommy, and our attractions and mates in the present are simply recreations and triggers and transferences and proxies, and actually innocent.

It is time that we accept that we have suffered as children, and that our faulty parents are responsible. Our Daddies have hurt us far deeper than any man ever could in our adult lives, and a very, very long time ago.  Our Daddy’s performance will exactly predict and determine our future ability with men, and if we have issues with loser men, let us know and decide to heal the loser Daddy in our histories, and take the rage and hate and blame and judgment off of our lovers and mates in the present, and take responsibility for our own wrongness that was caused by our Daddy who preceded our supposed wrong man.  Our Mommies have hurt us far deeper than any woman ever could in our adult lives, and a very, very long time ago. Our Mommy’s performance will exactly predict and determine our future ability with women, and if we have issues with loser women, let us know and decide to heal the loser Mommy in our histories, and take the rage and hate and blame and judgment off of our lovers and mates in the present, and take responsibility for our own “wrongness” that was caused by our Mommy who preceded our supposed wrong woman.  

Our only hope for true Love with the right person with whom we will spend the rest of our lives happily together with is to bring knowing and recognition of our own neurosis and psychological and emotional trauma and deprivation at the hand of our Mommies and Daddies into our consciousness, and then set about healing ourselves by crying and grieving and mourning the tragedies of our childhoods.  When we are healthy and whole and happy again within ourselves, all of a sudden we as butterflies will attract and fall in Love with other butterflies, and we as koalas will attract and fall in Love with other koalas.  That would be a very nice thing for us lovers, and for our families and children and world.  The only thing standing in our way is our own beautiful, healing tears, tears that will bring us home to ourselves, and tears that will bring us to our right person to love.

See you tomorrow

www.dear-roe-the-muse.com

yourpersonalmuse@gmx.com

Day 155 - "Why Do I Always Fall In Love With The Wrong Man?" - Part 1

Musings From The Heart

An Essay A Day For A Year

By Roe

Day 155 June 3, 2012

“Why do I Always Fall In Love With The Wrong Man?”

Part 1

Women across the world cry: “Why do I always fall in Love with the wrong man?”   I say:  Well honey, it’s because you are the wrong woman.  The notion that women, like sweet little lotus flowers, are good and right, nice and sweet, while the Mr.’s that she repeatedly falls in Love with always turn out to be bad and wrong and mean and sour, is ridiculous.  The aliens that cultivate us for food say that after you separate the skin and genitals from our bodies, all human’s look and taste the same. All women and all men have aspects that are good and bad, right and wrong, nice and mean, and sweet and sour, and each aspect attracts itself. Love is the pod and males and females are the two peas. If the male pea is a prince, his counterpart is a princess, and if the male counterpart is an asshole, you will always find his bitch at his side, though you may not see her on the surface.  If a woman falls in Love with any man that turns out to be a lemon, especially if this experience is a repeat, she is most certainly his complement of lemon-ness.  Just because women “appear” benign, or as victims, does not mean that they are less “wrong” than any man. As a matter of fact, the list of vile and wicked and unsavory in females can far outstretch a man’s, and the fact that it is hard to detect is the formidable power that females possess with their nice, flower-like disguises.

Anyone who repeatedly falls in Love is not actually in Love, and perhaps has never been in Love, or maybe doesn’t even know what Love is. True soul-mate, conjugal Love comes around maybe once in a lifetime, two if you are ever so lucky. Once you are truly in Love with another soul, you are never out of Love with that soul.  To go from one Love to another is to go from one fetish and infatuation and dependency and indulgence to another, and loving the next person after the last string of persons is simply a personal neurosis that happens to align with theother lover’s own neurosis at the right or wrong place and time. What happened to the last love and person that were loved? Love is not forgotten and superseded so easily. Love is not like changing your shoes when they get worn, and most definitely not in judgment of the last pair as if you have perfect feet, and as you move on to the next pair of lovers or partners or shoes. 

 We all fall in “attention” with and fall in “affection” with and fall in “sex” with and fall in “dependence” with and fall in “convenience” with our lovers and mates. We all fall in irritation and annoyance and disgust and dislike with our lovers, as most Love is defensive and driven out of our unconscious alter egos that cause us to buzz libidinously in defense from our lovers and mates.  Most Love is not Love at all, but a rivalrous and rebellious and libidinous psycho-sexual, social dance with our mates that tickles our fancies, and that tickles our hearts, and that tickles our genitals. When we fall in Love, we fall in primal infant imprint repeat with the Love situation of Mommy and Daddy, and we fall in childhood nostalgia with all that is beautiful about the Love that Daddy had for us if we are females, and the Love that Mommy had for us if we are males.  We also fall in defensive anger and hate with our lovers and mates as the pain of how our Mommy failed us begins to come conscious for us males, and as the pain of how our Daddy failed us begins to come conscious for us females.  We fall in Love with the exquisite dream that we can convert and redeem and change our childhood heartbreaks and traumas and deprivations into happiness and goodness. Love for all people is a chance to repeat the joy of our childhood joy, and to the chance to fix the pain of our childhood sadness in our new Mommy for males, and our new Daddy for females.

Women that are drawn to men with “issues” like a moth to a flame most certainly had Daddies with issues, and how sweet it is to be in close proximity again with sweet Daddy that loves us and wants us and needs us and cares for us so much.  That is until new Daddy goes off his rocker just like real Daddy did, that is until new Papa rears his ugly, disrespecting and abusing and mongering and violent and irresponsible and harmful head, and that is when females are smack dab in the middle of their sick nest of childhood fear and harm and sadness and pain, and smack dab in the middle of their co-dependency nightmare of a bad man with themselves as an injured victim.  “If I could only redeem and amend and repair him and then be happy and live happily ever after” she feels in her heart.  This is the actual definition of neurosis, and the heart of disrespecting and abusing and violent and irresponsible and harmful females in co-neurosis and co-dependency with their males. 

There is no such thing as a victim, there never has been and there never will be, all pain contains it’s counter pain, and all situations contain their complement and opposite.  Every aggressor has his or her provocateur. Every boy attracts his girl, every whore attracts her whoremonger, every loser attracts his loser-ette.  Daddy made Love to or fucked Mommy, that is how we got here, and each of our neurotic parents had their own even more neurotic mothers and fathers.  It is a miracle that we survive to Love at all as children with the horrific abuses perpetrated consciously and unconsciously upon all children each and every day.

To be fair, let’s repeat this paragraph for the world full of males that struggle with high maintenance, caustic, and harmful females.  Men that are drawn to women with “issues” like a moth to a flame most certainly had Mommies with issues, and how sweet it is to be in close proximity again with sweet Mommy that loves us and wants us and needs us and cares for us so much.  That is until new Mommy goes off her rocker just like real Mommy did, that is until Mama rears her ugly, disrespecting and abusing and slutty and bitchy and irresponsible and harmful head, and that is when males are smack dab in the middle of their sick nest of childhood fear and harm and sadness and pain, and smack dab in the middle of their co-dependency nightmare of a bad woman with themselves as an injured victim. “If I could only redeem and amend and repair her and then be happy and live happily ever after”,  he feels in his heart.  This is the actual definition of neurosis, and the heart of disrespecting and abusing and violent and irresponsible and harmful males in co-neurosis and co-dependency with their females.

To be continued tomorrow in part 2

See you tomorrow

www.dear-roe-the-muse.com

yourpersonalmuse@gmx.com

Day 154 - To Be Loved As We Are

Musings From The Heart

An Essay A Day For A Year

By Roe

Day 154 June 2, 2012

To Be Loved As We Are

Who am I?  Who are you? Does anyone really know the answer to those questions?  There are certain things that are obvious about me.  I am a human being, and I can’t change that.  I am a male, and I can’t change that either.  I am 49 years old, and as much as I would like to roll time back a bit, I am growing old.  I have blond hair and blue eyes, and I am of 100% percent German decent. Though I can dye my hair and hide my eyes, though I can pretend not to be white Caucasian or a guy, I still remain a middle aged, white, male human being of German decent with blond hair and blue eyes.  Even though there is a lot more to who I am, those are the permanent and obvious stats of what I am. Unfortunately, none of the above really explains or relates or defines WHO I am. 

Who I am resides in my heart, I am an emotional and feeling creature, and who I am is the ME of my self.  My self has very little to do with my species or gender or genealogy or appearance.  My self is who I feel that I am, and who I am is more about the things you won’t be able to know just by my basic stats.  My self is more about my personality, and my self is more about my history.  My self is how I express myself, and my self is how I give and receive Love. I very much desire to love you, and I very much desire that you love me, but I don’t want to be loved because I am simply a 49 year old, white, German decent male human being with blond hair and blue eyes.  I want you to you to love ME, and me means that you particularly love my SELF, and that is my distinct and unique personality and personhood that resides in my heart.

To be loved as we are is very rare indeed, and very, very special.  Truly only young children and animals, especially dogs, love us just as we are.  I am currently healthy and good looking, I am successful and affluent, I am athletic and very affectionate, I am attentive and devoted and responsible, I am funny and sexy and actively sexual,  I am quite smart and also very capable, I am nice to be around, and I hope easy and satisfying to love.  There are people in my life that love Roe. I’m sure that I am loved for being a blond haired, blue eyed German American male human being, and for all my great traits, but I really hope and dream that I am truly loved for more than that.  Does anyone truly see ME?  Does anyone truly love the real me that is in my heart and personality and unique self-ness? 

What if I become unhealthy and ugly?  What if I become unsuccessful and poor?  What if I become lazy and fat and mean?  What if I am no longer affectionate or sexy or sexual?  What if I become stupid and incompetent and inattentive and selfish and irresponsible?  What if I am no longer fun and easy and nice to be around?  Will anyone still love ME?   I really doubt it.  I better go and get me some dogs and small children who can love me just as I am, no matter what, unconditionally, just for ME, no matter HOW I am, because all of you love me with so many conditions and expectations.  

How sad that we love people, especially our spouses, for HOW they are, not for WHO they are.  It’s like we found then in a department store window all dressed up just the way we like them, and they even had the digitronic human-like behaviors that fit in perfectly with what we dreamed of as children.  Our spouses made us look good when we found them, and they made us laugh and made us orgasm and made us happy by looking like and acting like and doing just like we wanted and loved when we fell in possession with them.  Obviously if they had been too fat, or had too many pimples, if they had been too lazy or daft or weird or dirty or poor or selfish, or anything at all that turned us off, we wouldn’t have fallen in love with them.  How sad is that?  I’m totally sure that lots of happy dogs and small children would have loved them and us exactly like they and we were, pimply, fat, poor, lazy, stupid, and ugly.

Part of being loved as we are is to know who we are, so others can know who we are.  If we are always conforming and serving and accommodating and pleasing and doing exactly what and how we are supposed to do, just at the right time and place, we most certainly haven’t a clue WHO we are.  Part of being loved as we are by others is to love ourselves as we are, and with all our longing and striving and hoping and dreaming and changing and chasing this and that all the time, how are we ever going to love ourselves precisely just as WE are?  If we really don’t know who or how we are, and if we really don’t love how or who we are, we definitely aren’t going to be loved by anyone just as we are, right?   Sadly, yes, but that is not what Love and loving truly is.

If we love ourselves and others for appearances and circumstances and events and histories, and if we love ourselves and others as manifestations and results and actions and production, we of course aren’t loving at all, but merely conditionally and temporarily using ourselves and others to feel good and benefit superficially.  To love a person as they are is to love their life spark, to love their personhood as a being, without regard to how that is expressed or manifested.  Rover and little baby Anne and Andy don’t window shop for just the right expression or manifestation of you that fits them at the moment, and Rover and baby Anne or Andy don’t date you or give you chances or ask you to fill out a questionnaire, and Rover and baby Anne or Andy don’t ever file for divorce or tell you that they hate you or don’t love you anymore or run away.  Love of and for another person, like love of self, is unconditional.  We spouses like to  believe that and say it and other mushy things in our greeting cards when things are all lovey-dovey, but fake Love quickly turns to pain and hate when things don’t fit into the greeting card anymore, and we realize that we don’t really love ourselves or anyone else, we only love loving and being loved.

To love someone as they really are, we turn on the warming lamp in our heart and shine it towards this person, and we illuminate their soul with approving and accepting and appreciating and adoring Love.  Once this light is truly on in can never be turned off, it is like the eternal flame glows for us and them, and Love light never becomes Love un-light just because we or the time or our feelings have changed.  That would be like stopping to Love ourselves, or stopping to exist.  If we simply can’t love someone as they are, we simply can’t and don’t love that person, and if we simply don’t love that person but thought we did, we should ask ourselves whether we simply don’t love ourselves but just think that we did or do. 

Love is not immature and capricious and fleeting like we are.  Love is always there ready to warm, all we have to do is face the light and smile upon ourselves and others.  It’s really nice when you do it.  When we know and love ourselves we can love others, and when we know and love ourselves, others can know and love us too. I want to be loved just as I am, not just as I act or perform or appear.  I know that you desire the same.  May you be loved for the Love in your heart, just as you are, and may your heart love others the for the Love in their heart, just as they are.

See you tomorrow.

www.dear-roe-the-muse.com

yourpersonalmuse@gmx.com

Day 153 - Mommy Blah Blah And Daddy Yada Yada And Their Work Ethic For Me

Musings From The Heart

An Essay A Day For A Year

By Roe

Day 153 June 1, 2012

Mommy Blah Blah And Daddy Yada Yada And Their Work Ethic For Me

I often wonder if parents remember being children.  When we are children we are so sure that we know what we want, and we are so sure that our parents are daft and are messing everything up.  As children we are so sure that playing is good, and we are positive that chores and working are bad.  As children we want to love people and we want them to love us.  As children we don’t understand why no one wants to have fun with us, and we are sure that Mommies and Daddies are boring and unhappy people that don’t make any sense at all.  Then, when we grow up to be parents, we become daft and mess everything up for our children.  When we become parents we lose our deep love for play, and we instead worship chores and working.  When we become parents we struggle to love people who struggle to love us. As parents we forget the value of having fun, and we become boring and unhappy people that don’t make any sense at all to our children.  I want to know what happened to you and me when we grew up?  When did we joyous children that had everything all figured out sell out to the parental chore and homework Gestapo?  How agonizing that we look and sound and behave just like our busy, fun-less parents that never paid attention to us, huh?

When I was growing up I remember that my parents’ mouths ran on way too much.  “Do this and do that!”  “Don’t do this and don’t do that!”  “Blah, blah,blah!”  “Yada, yada, yada!” I distinctly remember in junior high school being given the concise description of the word “hypocrite” by the biggest hypocrite, buffoon teacher I had ever had the misfortune to suffer.  How funny.  I clearly remember how odd it felt to find the exact definition for my parents in a word that I learned long after my parents were hypocrites. I secretly called my dad Mr. Hypo and my mom Mrs. Crite, and together they were Mr. and Mrs. Hypo-Crite. I used to spend a lot of time rolling my eyes and shaking my head at the buffoon-ness of my Mr. and Mrs. Hypo-Crite Mommy and Daddy.  Blah blah, blah!  Yada, yada, yada!   What my parents did all the time is say, “Do as I say, not as I do”.   Sorry Mom and Dad,  but you clearly blew it.

I am still sure that playing is the greatest thing in life, and loving and being loved are beautiful, and having fun is the funnest thing about life. I am still sure that children have it all figured out, and adults that have rotted to long in shoulds and shouldn’ts and have lost their way.  I want to remind all parents that your kids are not listening to your never ending mouths spurging sermons all over the place, and your kids don’t care about all your silly rules and morals and manners and chores and work and blah, blah, blah, just like you didn’t when you were young.  Childhood is about being a child, and no child can be a child with boring parents always yada, yada, yada-ing all over the place.  No child ever learns a damn thing Mommy and Daddy by what you say, we never have, and we never will.   Your kiddies learn simply by what you do, and the example that you set by how you live your own life.  Your mouth and your words are just your own hypocritical power trip over the beauty of the childhood that you lost and miss, and if you are so sure of what you are doing with your kids, why are you so miserable and why are they so happy?  Good question huh?

Perhaps we parents should just go on living our lives as best we can, and keep our mouths shut, and let our children be children so that they can grow up to honor children and childhood, and maybe save the world with love and fun and play.  I heard a mother say the other day, “I want to instill a good work ethic in my children”.  Wow, good idea.  The best way Mommy is to work hard and true and long and happily yourself all your life, and never say a word to your children about your toils, and never expect then to do what is your job not theirs. The best way Daddy is to laugh and play while you work, and enjoy your work, and never, never Mommy and Daddy run your mouths about work, or ever expect your children to do any work ever unless they are happy to do so. Rules and chores and work and manners and ethics kill children, and dead children grow up to be dead parents that kill our world, just like us dead parents that think we are so smart, but have our world in a shambles.

If your children are lazy and unproductive at 2 and 6 and 16 and 22, well good for them, for that is the design and joy of childhood.  What moron figured out that adulthood starts at 17.552 years old?  If you worked happily and diligently and passionately Mommy and Daddy, all during the lazy and happy play lives of your children, with happy and quiet mouths, and without ever expecting your children to do anything at all, then your children will absolutely do the same, with honor and respect for your graceful example, and in gratitude for honoring and respecting their freedom and choice to work themselves when they are ready.  Your children are not your slaves or your oxes or your charges or your subjects, your children are guests in your house invited in by you.  If you want then to clean their rooms, go and clean it yourselves Mom and Dad, or shut the door, for that is their space and none of your business.  Just keep your own room clean Mom and Dad, and respect and value your child, that is the best you can do.  If you blah, blah,blah Mommy about work this and work that, if you yada, yada, yada Daddy all the time about what is expected and why and how and when and . . .  YIKES, besides stealing away your child’s childhood like yours was stolen, you will simply be a bore and a nuisance just like your own parents were to you during your long forgotten childhood, and you will be resented and labeled Mr. and Mrs. Hypocrite like my parents, and forever be feared and OOPS, create miserable and boring adults out of your children, just like our parents made miserable and boring adults out of you and me.

Children should never be made to do anything ever unless it is for their safety or health, and if we parents have a good idea for our children, let us zip the lips and show them by gracious and loving example, and if they emulate us we did a good job at being a person true to our hearts.  If they do not emulate us perhaps we are hypocrites like our parents, or perhaps they are unique and individual souls with their own spirits and ideas and futures.  Well duh.  Chores and compulsory schooling and homework and yada yada’s and blah blah’s are for parents  and not for children. If you can’t handle what is on your plate Mom and Dad you should have never had children, but now that you did have children, if you want to condescend to other souls and berate other souls and run other souls around like chickens in thunder storms, go and find some friends that are your equals and see if they let you do that, and get off the backs of your innocent and defenseless love children who just want to be kids just like you wanted to be a kid before you forgot how.  Let us adults and parents sermonize ourselves if we are so smart.  If we are so great, why are we all struggling so much just for basic Love and happiness and success?  Perhaps we should all watch our little miracle children show us how Life is really about play and Love and fun and just being together, and maybe we will remember what we used to know.  Let us not belliger our children around simply so that we don’t have to feel the pain of having lost our own childhoods by having been belligered around by our own parents.

So what if your house and yard and car and child are not ideal and perfect and right and impressive. Are you really so worried Mom and  Dad that the neighbor or relative or teacher will find out that you and your child are fun-loving and heart sharing pals that value and trust each other without producing or proving anything?  I hope the relatives and neighbors and teachers don’t find out that we are all treating our children like brownie pins and trophies and field oxen.  Let’s all instill proper manners and ethics and education and status in our children by butting out of their childhoods with our mouths and expectations and standards and productions, and instead just live a grand life of play and Love and fun and sharing and being together with them each and every day. 

Wow, that sounds like childhood to me, and what a great ethic that is. Love to all children, the ones that you bring to this world, and the one inside of you that still miss sweet, fun, happy childhood.  

See you tomorrow.

www.dear-roe-the-muse.com

yourpersonalmuse@gmx.com