joyously happy memories

Joined
Mar 26, 2009
Posts
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i like hearing them.
the happy place that you find yourself returning to time after time.

gimme!
 
i like hearing them.
the happy place that you find yourself returning to time after time.

gimme!

I was reborn in a river...not in the traditional baptism sense, but in the sunlight filtering through the trees overhead, the water carrying my pain over the falls and downriver. I wept. It was the most peace and contentment I have ever known. The river is my happy place. :eek:
 
I had a slice of Boston Cream Pie last night... OMG!!! Talk about your joyously happy memory!
 
sitting on a bench, my legs over his, the sun warming our backs, listening to the birds sing, talking and laughing about dumb stuff, kissing, talking, listening, laughing. a perfect moment.
 
Those traveling Carnivals at night with sideshows and rides. Tossing wiffle balls at those leaded milk bottles, and spending a $100 bucks winning my date a stuffed animal. Seeing the smile on her face in making her choice. It's all about the choice! In what fuzzy animal she chooses. :)
 
Yesterday she called me a slapper.
Today she's pashing some dude on a bench. Mhmm.

Her whole world is all upside down and shit. It's making me question absolutely everything. Dolf is mushy and lovey, the world ain't fucking right!
 
And what the hell is a slapper? It sounds like some kind of urban dictionary reference to a sex act.
 
sitting on a bench, my legs over his, the sun warming our backs, listening to the birds sing, talking and laughing about dumb stuff, kissing, talking, listening, laughing. a perfect moment.

I just came back from one of my favourite places in the world - Cadaques/Port Lligat on the Spanish Costa Brava. It's Mediterranean blue and Sangria red with white Dali eggs scattered around the place.
I think I should move there.
 
The wind takes hold
just right.
Millennial oak groans.
We transform from slaves of the swell
to splicers of waves
and set out
towards a black mirage
hovering on a cyan horizon.





Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Iiiiii'm Popeye the sailor maaaaan.
 
a slapper is... well it's like slut, only less offensive.

and i'm still mean! i just have squishy moments.
 
Again the early-morning sun was generous with its warmth. All the sounds dear to a horseman were around me - the snort of the horses as they cleared their throats, the gentle swish of their tails, the tinkle of irons as we flung the saddles over their backs - little sounds of no importance, but they stay in the unconscious library of memory.
~Wynford Vaughan-Thomas
 
thanks for that perg. i was about to get all teary eyed.
 
a memory repeated, four years apart, curled up in a comfy seat, my new baby sleeping in my arms, leaning down to feel the tickle of their downy soft hair against my lips and cheek. each time the moment carefully placed where it can never be mislaid, to be fresh in my mind until my last breath.
 
12 years old at the stables with my step mom. Caught the descending riding crop with my left hand and knocked the bitch out with my right hand at the same time.....
 
A little cliche, but under the boardwalk at the Jersey shore.
 
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