Wanton, Ovulating, Motivation, Appreciation, Neuroticism
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For our second voyage into the realms of the fairer sex, I have chosen artwork from one of my dearest friends to adorn the page. I am very proud to present to you The Devil’s Printer. You may have spotted a curious chap named The Lecherous Bandit loitering on Rivers of Grue with intent from time to time and I was fortunate enough to collaborate with him on the Parables From A Shot Glass sequence recently. As well as being primed for ridiculousness at all times, my brother from another mother also possesses something of a keen eye for art. Ergo, the following article showcases some of the random candy which fluffs out his top box and, I’m sure you’ll agree, he has a rather bodacious style.
The W.O.M.A.N. sequence looks at some of the idiosyncrasies of the fairer sex and attempts to shed some light on why men find their opposite numbers so appealing. The two genders really couldn’t be any more different and our entire biological make-up differs markedly from one another. However, I have never met a single person in the world that I have fully understood, female or otherwise. If there’s one thing I have learned from years of trying to decipher ladies then it would be that I still have a whole lot to learn. So here we are; the battle of the sexes is all set to rage on although, I have to come clean, I have no intention of courting skirmish on this or any other day. My goal is simply to understand a little better and hopefully pay forward any teachings to you fine people.
a mental or personality disturbance not attributable to any known neurological or organic dysfunction
Although women statistically suffer more from anxiety disorders than men, my belief is that in moderation this can be very alluring, primarily at least. “Has he finally tossed his salad?” I hear you retort and I agree it seems preposterous that we are actually aroused by neurosis. In fact, it implies that the suitor will make a suitable mate and potentially be a good mother also. You see, we never stray far from the apron strings. I consider this a trap of sorts; laid by ourselves as we look to do the right thing and then curse these competent mammas when we don’t feel appreciated further on down the line. Once we hear the patter of tiny feet and slide down the pecking order, most full grown manchildren will take exception. It’s inevitable and a significant chink in the male armor. Ultimately, all we wish is to be held close to the bosom. I can identify with that.
I am a reasonably simple man, with likewise needs, and would do anything for my life to share such simplicity. I also don’t buy into neurosis. It leaves me flabbergasted as it messes with my self-constructed nirvana. I never wish for conflict and try not to worry about events out of my control although that can admittedly be a darned sight easier said than done. Envy is an inevitable emotional response in relationships but one I don’t endorse one iota. I don’t do jealous, mainly because I am comfortable in my pelt and don’t wish to play the numerous mind games that some do exhaustively. It wears me out and I can’t begin to fathom what it must be like for the benefactor.
Anxiety is another poisoned chalice to sip from, fretting about a thousand things in less than a thousand minutes just seems so exhausting. Why? It dumbfounds me perpetually that you can attempt to reason with one of life’s worry warts until you’re mauve in the face and still they seem to almost relish the prospect of panicking a little more. It drains the very life-force from within me and has been a key factor in my eventual emotional breakaway on a number of occasions as I cannot fathom how another mind computes this data. I was never intended to, but through the aphrodisiac of neuroticism luring me in, I’ve got what I requested each time.
Neurotic suitors hold great appeal for some and have done with me, due to the protective nature of the specimens in question. I feel safe when a wing is offered and allow myself to reveal that much more of myself. My problem has always been that, once the ratio of exposure swings in their favor, my actions are misinterpreted repeatedly. Every scenario is very different from the last of course, but history has an uncanny knack of repeating itself, and many spend their entire existence stuck in this perpetual fretful loop. I have found enlightenment vital to my continual growth and, by now leaving myself open to chance, I have removed many of my shackles that once bound me. I would be thrilled if the next emotional tryst I enter into is devoid of such constant agitation. Easy street sounds far more appealing than turbulent terrace.
Individuals each bring their own luggage to the table, their exclusive strengths and their own frailties also. But should we meet outside of the iron curtain of dishonest representation of ourselves, it cuts out a whole lot of bullshit further on down the trail. If you tell me you love Tears For Fears then I’ll likely play their greatest hits CD in your presence as I too am rather partial. However, should we be engaging in a spat, I certainly don’t appreciate them being thrown up in a vicious swipe against my musical tastes. Be honest from the start; have an opinion and the courage of your convictions to say “they don’t do it for me”. There is nothing more frustrating than a significant other who doesn’t possess an opinion of their own. Moreover, they are the ones who double back on themselves the first moment they ask your opinion on something and don’t appreciate your honest response. Mind games you see. I’ve had a skinful of these wasteful tournaments.
On the plus side, I would take neurosis to nonchalance every time. It proves that blood circulates freely through the ventricles, again an arousing trait when compared to one being habitually indifferent. I loathe indifference, it’s lackadaisical and downright arrogant if you ask me. I want to know that you love, despise, feel hurt, joy. These emotions display our life-force and are vital to us connecting to other souls and minds. Ultimately there’s a balance to be struck and, when choosing one’s mate, we then have two see saws to stabilize. Is it any wonder that the road to true love is so fraught with misery?
I am beyond pity for certain deep-rooted neurotics, those without any intention of budging from their poisonous pedestals. No compromise, no light let in or encouraged out, and totally prisoner within their own minds. These sad sacks have insufficient fight left to progress from their perpetual vortex of sorrow. They’re the real Walking Dead, already decomposing as infection has been left untreated for too long. There’s nothing left behind the eyes other than contorted angst and, at that point, those around begin to thin out rapidly. The moment I relinquish hope I give you my blessing to hold a sawn off 12-gage to the back of my head and play the click, click, bang game until my misery has subsided. My glass will always be at the very least half full.
None of this is to suggest I don’t suffer from neurosis myself; a mind can be your bestie one minute and then deliver a swift slug when you’re least prepared. However, I sidestep these noxious spills wherever feasible. Worrying just leads to over-exertion and eventual exhaustion whereas, by evading self-placed obstacles, we keep that air of calm about us and folk tend to gravitate towards the light from our souls as a direct result. It’s a choice that only we can make and seems like something of a no-brainer to me.
I prefer to leave my luggage as far behind as possible when commencing fresh courtship and choose to trust another to do the same. The eternal optimist; I may appear a fool to some, but I do provide a chosen vessel to bleed these discussions candidly. I travel lighter than before, have no inclination towards emotional bankruptcy or, worse yet, bland indifference. My neuroticism is harnessed now and has been replaced with inquisitiveness. The benefits reaped from sowing seeds of hope as opposed to doubt are more abundant and far more destined to flourish.
The final piece of this pleasurable platter will get downright petulant as I wrap my prose around our Dark Queen herself, Lady Die. An exclusive photo shoot is taking place in Los Angeles as we speak and it shall be unleashed at the witching hour tomorrow, seasoned with my prose. I have been in sanctuary for the past couple of days, replenishing psychological supplies and, lo and behold, achieved a level up during the interim. I placed my 3 additional stat points straight onto bloodlust as I know that Diane Foster adores nothing more than to writhe about in deep red. I am also aware that she has a fondness for getting down and dirty and would hate to disappoint our cruel sovereign. Methinks it’s time for a little blood sport. Sanitary towels at the ready Grueheads; better make them ultra-absorbent.
Click here to read W.O.M.A.N. Deep Red Edition
Truly, Really, Clearly, Sincerely,
Keeper of the Crimson Quill
First Knight of TOK
Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2013
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