"Thanksgiving Eve" lookitup

[anniemal]

I'm just going to ramble. I started out with a pithy thought that has been forgotten in the getting to post it. It was about snow and age. Oh well.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and everybooby's celebrating-- WHAT?! Some myth. That's what most celebrations are. I think to celebrate Shakespeare's Birthday. Having just read/watched "Hamlet" again, I'm thinking about that in the context of Holidays(Holy Days).
Was he around for the genius's upbringing?
For the purpose of everything I enter hencheforth, I am agnostic, as I am in the realm of all Goddesses and Gods.

So say I consider Shakespeare's birthday as a holy day. Shakespeare's birth day. Shakespeare's mother in the throes of labor. Who was that woman? Was Shakespeare's father there? Was his mother? HOW DID SHAKESPEARE COME TO BE?

If Shakespeare was Shakespeare. There are many who would say someone else made the brilliant scripts humans have followed for centuries and can't seem to break from. Maybe evolution did.

Bodies evolve over generations. Minds can change much faster. Synapses form anew. Unused ones go dormant.

Break from old scripts. Greed and jealousy are bad for us. "Be the change you want to happen." Ghandi



In happier things, Buster is finally learning "shake".

Comments

[malada]

*hugs her anniemal^

[anniemal]

Thanks. I need them. {Hugs} her Malada. and sends an extra for D. and a few pats for whatever critters you've got around now. I only have a cat. He's got a good story, and is actually not as peculiar/difficult as I'd feared he'd be.

[malada]

Sadly, no more critters. It's just me and Kassie now. We're mostly good.

Hope you are well and happy.

[anniemal]

Since Brian died (on the operating table, then twelve days of multiple organ failure), I've been loveless. I have a husband in good health who disdains me, and indeed almost all human company. Days go by, and if I don't have to, I don't see him. He is always annoyed.

What I really want to say is that you prepared me to launch another transman into womanhood. As in getting pronouns straight. Yeah, she was a born-over Christian, which made it kinda tough, given that I'm a "show me a God" atheist/agnostic, but we made a sorta truce. She'd never met another lover who understood who she was. All 5'11", beard and skirts of her. She mostly presented as him, and I confused those (most) who didn't know.

After four years,she kissed me off. I maybe know why, but she never said. I'm never going to know. But she continued on her way to large womanhood

On either January 30th or 31st 2023, Brent got a call from Sara, a mutual friend, who called Glenn/Daphne daily, and got her message only. She called Brent, who bothered himself to come upstairs and bother me, who had saved the keys to Gllenn's house. "NEVER THROW ANYTHING AWAY" Keys are small.

Long story short, she was dead in her bathtub. Rigor was still in force. I did kiss her lips and pat her popo. She was the best lover I ever had. She gave me orgasms that were like being hit by a woolley freight train.

I never quite understood her. Not the wrong gender part; you set me up for that. But there was something she needed that I was not. Possibly a belief I find stupid. If she was right, and I wrong, she's got her wings thrice over, and is playing a lyre behind her head. And grinning stupidly.

I believe in the Golden Rule. That is hard yough to hold by when others break it. I held the yuletide by candles and sit back and watch others make foolery with their Christmas. The sun is come back, but the sere time is yet before us.

May your creel be full and your love surround you.
Andrea