tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43794657624684269772024-09-04T22:01:47.201-04:00I have of late taken the view that no matter how rebellious, unconventional, non-conformist we would like to think ourselves, we are at some point always part of a similar grouping of people. We are never truly leaders, but followers. Followers, I prefer to refer to us as sheep; because at one point or another in our life we are all sheep. This is a place to express myself, vent my frustration with the sheepdom, and relieve my boredom. It is my therapy for all that contributes to my neurosis.Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.comBlogger458125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-9551594696317635592021-10-24T17:55:00.000-04:002021-10-24T17:55:24.027-04:00

Sun kissed sand colored skin lay bareA tapestry of eroticism glowing with desireSeeping lascivious proclivities, whisperingTaunting, teasing the sensesSenses eager, expectant of warm firm strokesCreating a hedonistic masterpieceTextured moor of pleasure, moistAnticipating deep explorationWarm exhalation of ecstacy, energies dancing Willfully participating in forbidden debaucheryEbbing and

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-42568220354688201592019-02-15T08:26:00.004-05:002021-10-24T18:36:58.229-04:00

My lips warm, moist, meets your skin Stoking the embers of your desire Your essence fills my lungs Permeating through my every fiber Carrying me to a celestial plain Waking my senses, elevating my mind Body and soul connect Your aromatic scent wafts about Clinging, caressing my skin Seeping through my pores Sensations, electric Excitedly calm, contemplative, expectant Anticipating the elation,

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-59643199800738461962019-02-15T08:25:00.004-05:002021-10-24T18:39:39.022-04:00

Semi-permanence, or is it more permanence Permanence in the nature of change, Change being permanently constant Less permanence, more change Changing status, changing statuses Whatsapp status, social media status, social status Permanently changing, body goals, fitness goals, love goals Relationship goals, life goals Life goal's, post constantly semi-permanent

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-65080434419558860092017-08-16T14:55:00.000-04:002017-08-16T14:55:52.484-04:00

They say the first step in addressing an addiction or moving past any problem is to first acknowledge and accept it; I have been in denial for a while I suppose, but every now and then you have these moments of clarity, my what the fuck moments, my Earl listen to the universe moment, my stop trying to go against the grain and prove everyone wrong moment. That moment came this morning on my

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-83420824112976705402017-08-07T09:25:00.000-04:002017-08-07T09:25:24.299-04:00

Moments of reflection, or life’s epiphanies can happen when we least expect it, in the strangest of circumstances. Mine happened yesterday while I watched my favorite mango tree being cut down. I marked this tree years ago to be cut, it was big, didn’t bear much fruit and what little fruit it did bear was out of my reach – and as if sensing it’s impending demise it made a turn for the best,

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-51497935816220213272017-08-03T11:49:00.001-04:002017-08-03T11:49:21.800-04:00

When we go through a break-up we often attempt to deal with the pain in many ways; the most common way it to ignore it; we find all things to occupy our time and mind, we get busy and "distracted" - but that is always, always short lived. Being distracted from the emotional torment of a break-up is akin to pretending to be an ostrich, if it sticks its head in the sand and doesn't see the threat

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-59264971875964390562017-08-03T11:35:00.000-04:002017-08-03T11:35:36.973-04:00

Women have truly been the bane of my existence; I have a perpetual love hate relationship with them – the love part being highly fueled by primal desire; the hate fueled by the fizzling of that desire. I have found over the years that most women should never be held to their word, although they may argue that at the time, in the moment they said what they meant, and meant what they said – but

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-35936206121998899222017-05-08T10:52:00.002-04:002017-05-08T11:24:32.766-04:00

To and fro the iron moved over the clothes; another Sunday getting ready to resume the week, back to the tedium of life, the weekly routine, my Alcatraz. In that moment I had a feeling of hopelessness, dread – returning to the place where I am unhappy for yet another week, doing the same thing over and over again; listening to the children, becoming increasingly annoyed with the very sound of

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-18957609791495807012016-09-01T15:11:00.001-04:002016-09-01T15:11:27.496-04:00

In the past three days I have directly and indirectly experienced how the words people speak to others can adversely affect a person's mood; their state of mind and how they interact with the people around them. While this is not the first time I have seen the power of words on people, myself included, this week it was more acute, I was more aware - I suppose mainly because I have over the last

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-60210652516085712062016-08-15T07:28:00.001-04:002016-08-15T07:28:55.488-04:00

I woke this morning with the word consternation gnawing at my mind, I could not recall the meaning of the word, but somewhere in my subconscious mind I began to pen a poem rooted in this word. Letting my feet hit the floor, I reaches for my phone to search out the meaning of this word which greeted my mind on this beautiful Monday morning. Consternation, a feeling of anxiety or dismay, that can

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-84400916582806257352016-08-14T12:19:00.001-04:002016-08-14T12:19:43.823-04:00

At this point I should not be amazed at the volatility of human beings, yet I remain dumbfound by our ability to turn on a dime, to move quickly through highs and lows, the cusp of emotional hilltops to the dunk depths of the murky valleys. I suppose part of this can be attributable to our inherent disingenuous nature, our ability to harbour ill feelings about persons, sometimes those closest to

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-12064098711888928572016-08-09T13:29:00.003-04:002016-08-09T13:29:23.518-04:00

Death is the only fair part of life, it holds no favor for ones station in life, it cares not for your wealth, your power, beauty, youth, health - it cares for nothing. It comes at any given hour to welcome you with its cold embrace, taking you away from everything and everyone you have ever known - to some it is welcomed; a reprieve from pain, suffering, unhappiness; while to others it is

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-49578834326296485752016-08-09T11:09:00.002-04:002016-08-09T11:09:52.707-04:00

Interesting morning thus far, I've had a few deja vu moments for the morning, it has been a while I have not had one of those. Over the years I have learned to use these are my markers, my message from the universe telling me that hey, everything is going to be alright. These moments seem to come at times when I feel like things aren't going my way, or I am lost in my head, buried by my thoughts

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-72906825568447128972016-08-08T15:03:00.003-04:002016-08-08T15:03:39.788-04:00

Death has a way of bringing the brevity of life into sharp focus for those left behind in the wake of the passing of a loved one, family, friend and yes even acquaintance. It causes you a moments pause, to contemplate what really matters and the significance we place on the innocuous. But just like life, these moments of profound introspection are fleeting, short lived; the lifespan inextricably

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-42418342859235207732016-08-08T13:06:00.005-04:002016-08-08T13:06:46.550-04:00

There is no mold for the human condition, of the billions of people on earth you will be hard pressed to find two persons who are similar in every respect. Yet as part of the human condition we accept certain inalienable truths, certain behavioral parameters – and we accept standards for ourselves and others. One of our failings as is just that, the notion that we should all think, feel and act

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-8965019601222168222016-08-02T14:45:00.000-04:002016-08-02T15:58:58.517-04:00

He stumbled to the door in the early hours of the morning, inebriated, eyes half opened, fumbling with the keys as he attempt to unlock the door; the chill of the morning air piercing his skin. Staggering into the dark room, his hands searched for the light switch - as he flicked on the incandescent light he caught his reflection in the mirror - clothes tarted and stained, eyes narrowed and blood

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-25747855462502655052016-08-02T13:07:00.000-04:002016-08-02T13:07:07.628-04:00

Every time I attempt to get my mind to focus it gets lost in this fog, this unyielding, unrelenting fog that is clouding my mind. I am unable to maintain a thought for more than a few seconds - this ominous feeling is crippling my ability to function; that I am able to string together these words is a bit of a relief. Perhaps this is just what I need. A distraction, something to take my mind of

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-8189976195671664562016-07-28T14:43:00.003-04:002016-07-28T14:43:22.842-04:00

This post will be brief. You know how these thoughts work, like links in a chain one connected to another, connect to another till you reach the end of the chain of thoughts which by that time seem so obscure from the first thought. I had this not so random thought, birthed by a light-hearted conversation which shortly wasn't so light-hearted.  The random thought lead me to ponder on

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-23309370915426670742016-07-12T10:54:00.000-04:002016-07-12T10:59:15.492-04:00

So I committed to resuming blogging, but for the longest time I have mainly turned to blogging in time of unhappiness; with sprinkles of eroticism - however, on this occasion it is neither, this is just because I said I would resume blogging, so this one will be random as fuck. So here I am, yes, by now you should realize I use 'so' as a filler a lot - where was I, so here I am wet overcast

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-67539926471559082962016-06-20T15:00:00.002-04:002016-06-20T15:00:39.712-04:00

We take for granted fleeting moments which rapidly become fleeting years Years which fade away while we look back with regret Caught in a memory of a moment of hurt, that moment takes root, grows into anger Anger dampens the spirit, darkens the soul, leaving in its wake an emotional carcass When that moment has trickled through the hourglass of time, bitterness lingers A fleeting moment of

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-37770551898390482822016-06-16T10:07:00.000-04:002016-06-16T10:07:00.143-04:00

Ever so often we need to take a moment to take stock of our life, where we’ve been, where we’re at and where we want to go. Truth be told in my younger days I did a lot of that, it was my time of self discovery – if I am to be honest, I have not done that sort of introspection in quite a while, and it is not to say that I have arrived at the point where I thought I would have been when I started

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-77920740850861845912016-06-14T10:16:00.002-04:002016-06-14T10:16:58.042-04:00

I have not been inclined to put words to paper, or in this case to screen for some time, largely because I have not felt emotionally tormented and in the need to evicted the thoughts from my head before it lays waste to my mind. My posts have been largely melancholic with a sprinkle of eroticism, lightly flavoured with pseudo-intellectualism – sometimes bordering on profound. The years have

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-21595079375145108462015-12-21T09:31:00.003-05:002015-12-21T09:31:58.118-05:00

Wake Up He rolls over, spent with barely enough energy to remove himself from between her legs - his breathing slowing, cock still throbbing and wet from her pussy. She slowly stretches out her legs, her hands drop to her side, eyes shut, her chest rises and falls with her breath - her breath still warm escaping her lips. Her body blanketed in beads of sweat, the light from the incandescent

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-88165624926186954372015-08-19T10:11:00.000-04:002015-08-19T10:13:30.888-04:00

Sometimes all you want to do is escape to a place where you do not exist - void of frustration, unhappiness, confrontation, emotional warfare. A place where life does not haunt you, where you are totally free, your mind and heart at peace At times the struggle between what we desire and what we are ascribed takes its toll on your soul Gnawing at your mind, eating away slowly at your very essence

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379465762468426977.post-87477222518462008682015-08-17T10:27:00.000-04:002015-08-17T10:29:16.693-04:00

I need to escape the tedium of the monotonous sounds of familiar voices, the repetitive cacophony of problems and a dearth of solutions Practice does make perfect the inability to resolve perennial conundrums The repetition of over used idioms and adages, nothing more that fillers to dull the senses to be more receptive to fluff The sound of voices of the many ostensibly brilliant minds

Mr. Remyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07801491014200358039noreply@blogger.com0