Sex for lust filled immediate gratification is a mask, a mask for what love truly is. It is a farce, a drug… a cheap fulfillment of a beautiful thing. Being celibate, not wholly by choice, these past three+ years has given me an interesting perspective, this on top of the already introspective view of a brain injury survivor. True, I don’t have anyone to come home to or to share my life with. True, I don’t have much, if any, physical contact with people. I am an introverted extrovert. I find it easier to think and to accomplish the things I must, being alone. Yeah, call me a coward or whatever for “taking the easy road”. I am a courageous and strong individual. I am an extrovert at my core, a true people person. There are some things I must do, however, and people detract from that. I don’t know what this thing is exactly, just yet, but I am very close with multiple things in the works.
“It’s just Kyle, feeling sorry for himself”. Hahaha, seriously…. I am the last person who will feel sorry for themselves. I don’t whine or complain, even with all that has happened to me/was taken away from me. It is what it is, it happened… move on. Dwelling on the past serves no one and cheapens your life and purpose. I won’t and haven’t done that. Life is ahead of me, of us.
What’s next? I cannot say, nor would I presume to predict. All I know for certain is that I am not done, by any means. Cheers and circus peanuts.
Hitchhiker 