Ambien-less with Nature
I like camping and hiking and fishing…
What is gracing the non-existent Ambien Grace?
I’m in my own little world trying to not think…avoiding reflecting on things and still getting anxious, I need to get laid! Dangerous territory but I’m addicted to porn. My friends know. I know. I’ve written to the journal of Travels with Ambien Grace. Everyone knows but my mother.
The outdoor activity is just a mask. The mask behind which my endeavors lie. For instance, this Easter we all sat around our big dining room table staring at one another; Mum, Daddy, Beckett Couvillion and myself, Ambien Grace.
Please pass the whatever? Could I have the salt? What a beautiful spring day. So on and so forth. I sit there taking nothing in. Wearing my hair down as Mother Theresa wants, contacts in, as Mother Theresa wants, lacy and decadently female top with shorts ever so tight; again, as Mother Theresa wants.
What am I thinking?
I’m fine being alone with the parents… Yet, I am horny as all get out and I can’t get out.
If I breath in your ear, whisper something, bite or suck on your ear, suck/bite your neck…I am beyond turned on.
Pass the potatoes please!
Then I wander back to the furthest reaches of my mind.
Oh, can I get some money for gas tomorrow?
Uneasiness covers the Easter dinner. My mother sours and my father is non-existent. The furthest reaches of my mind came barreling forward.
Morrill Pond, Canterbury NH, sometime in August:
‘It’s just not fun having ants crawl around my face when I’m trying to get off. Have I told you I wish we didn’t in the dirt otherwise I would have played with your clit with my tongue.’
My impoverished thoughts link me and Kate to a dirt pile, my pink comforter and ants! The pond had been rustic. The timing wonderful, I had almost hit full-fledged orgasm.
Along came the ants, the hunters and people watching from the woods.
A smirk creeps into the corner of my mind and graces my lips, current day.
Mother Theresa quickly wipes my fun fond memories away with:
“I know what you are thinking Ambien Grace. Do not forget what that woman did to our family. You came this close to being disowned!”
Mum gestures with her fingers displaying less than an inch of leaving this shitty family behind.
I nod in agreement. I am nothing if methodical and compliant when it comes to Mum.
Soon the moment and memory are dashed with the revelation that I can remain Ambien Grace as long as I play by someone else’s rules.
