Written By: Anthony Douglas Gere
Music Provided By: SEMusic
Artistry Selected By: Main Ad Centre
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licensing of mcwhorter management
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A Night With My Shrink Page 1
by Anthony Douglas Gere
There are moments in my life where all seems calm and routine. These things that
seems in sync with the universe and all manageable within the realm of my capabilities
and understanding, are things I somewhat control and not afraid of. It is these times
and in these moments when I reflect upon the things I need to overcome, and place
priorities on developing a better re pore with my inner self. My ultimate goal, which at
times seems totally unrealistic and untouchable to some, is to display a man to the
public in a private and intimate way that stands for something and sits for nothing. A
sincere confident person that has been humbled by the ways of the world. A man that
has had things build and destroy him, to only bring upon who he is now, and currently
trying to share it with those warranted of his efforts. Now seeing how we all have
different faces for the many mask we wear daily, I sometimes look into the mirror and
invent a third person to talk to. This person, that seems to only speak when I'm talking,
does not fully understand the things I say, because we seem to clash when verbally
jousting and trying to prove our respective points without interruption. Its all about
timing I think, and only when we both are silent, this person and I, and looking at each
other eye to eye, does an answer appear and results seem possible. I remember the
first time we met. It was a memorable silent night, rain dancing off of the skylights like
Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire in one of those classic silver screen gems. Candles
were lit all around the house and room, and the warmth of the fireplace set the mood of
growth, passion and adult intimacy. The music, which was playing at a random pace
selected by me on the turnstile, was one of my traditional mixtures of smooth jazz,
rhythm and blues and classic rock, it was great. The sounds though subtle and
delicate, electrified the room with such power and force, it seemed as though each
artist was making a special appearance for this moment to be born, and channeled
each meaning of their lyrics in a harmonious way for me to fully understand . It was a
classic moment to conceive, not random. You know, something special, maybe
comparable to that conceptional moment in creating a child, an one time only event or
maybe a thought provoking idea that changes the world. Now as I was blindly drifting
and searching for something to do, I looked across the room to find the only
source of light not naturally projected, and found my computer glaring and looking at
me. Now we know that devices are not beings, but this one had a voice. Not in
terms of sounds or words, but a telepathy that was calling my name in some secret
code. It kept saying touch me, stroke me and share with me your inner secrets, I am
to you as you will be to all and more. This was something that freed my inhibitions
beyond lust, this was something that made me want to satisfy it more than
myself. I was fighting this feeling that struck me as foreign, and I wanted to become
a citizen of it's world. It kept calling me, calling me in a seductive way and I was
intrigued to say the least. It kept whispering, moaning between each breath I took, its
like we were rhythm on opposite ends of this spectrum and wanted to find the nucleus
together. So I gave in, gave in to the power greater than myself. I was being seduced,
and I wanted to be more than I care to admit, because no woman has brought on
such a feeling, and I had thought sex was the ultimate pleasure. This was something I
needed and wanted and didn't even know it. Something to understand me beyond my
own understanding of self or the moment. I was losing control and I knew it. I was
fighting, fighting for no reason because I knew it was useless. I was not fighting to
win, I was fighting not to lose. I needed help because I needed to be in control, but
who could I call? No one could believe this and I would surely be committed to one
of God forsaken places where they serve you jello in a paper cup if I told the wrong
person. Who would be willing to listen to me in this state of mind, who. I closed my
eyes and tried to concentrate, but kept seeing the third person I talked to that
wouldn't listen to me and spoke when being spoken to. I wanted, no needed help,
but it was too late, I had been defeated. I had fought a worthy battle, but came up
short in my mind, but couldn't face the reality that I never threw a punch and was
getting hit from the most vulnerable place imaginable, from the inside. My focus,
which was stuck in a tunnel vision, had also been divided and conquered and brought
back to the one main nucleus I was searching for. I had lost to the temptation, the
same allure that calls to the millions of cigarette smokers in the world each day,
addicted and couldn't face it. I was powerless to this force, so I basically called my
head doctor to help me, because I was now helpless and needed someone or thing to
rescue me. I had been controlled to a point that the only remedy was the prescription
being given by the only one authorized to prescribe it, the light calling my name, my
shrink.
by Anthony Douglas Gere
There are moments in my life where all seems calm and routine. These things that
seems in sync with the universe and all manageable within the realm of my capabilities
and understanding, are things I somewhat control and not afraid of. It is these times
and in these moments when I reflect upon the things I need to overcome, and place
priorities on developing a better re pore with my inner self. My ultimate goal, which at
times seems totally unrealistic and untouchable to some, is to display a man to the
public in a private and intimate way that stands for something and sits for nothing. A
sincere confident person that has been humbled by the ways of the world. A man that
has had things build and destroy him, to only bring upon who he is now, and currently
trying to share it with those warranted of his efforts. Now seeing how we all have
different faces for the many mask we wear daily, I sometimes look into the mirror and
invent a third person to talk to. This person, that seems to only speak when I'm talking,
does not fully understand the things I say, because we seem to clash when verbally
jousting and trying to prove our respective points without interruption. Its all about
timing I think, and only when we both are silent, this person and I, and looking at each
other eye to eye, does an answer appear and results seem possible. I remember the
first time we met. It was a memorable silent night, rain dancing off of the skylights like
Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire in one of those classic silver screen gems. Candles
were lit all around the house and room, and the warmth of the fireplace set the mood of
growth, passion and adult intimacy. The music, which was playing at a random pace
selected by me on the turnstile, was one of my traditional mixtures of smooth jazz,
rhythm and blues and classic rock, it was great. The sounds though subtle and
delicate, electrified the room with such power and force, it seemed as though each
artist was making a special appearance for this moment to be born, and channeled
each meaning of their lyrics in a harmonious way for me to fully understand . It was a
classic moment to conceive, not random. You know, something special, maybe
comparable to that conceptional moment in creating a child, an one time only event or
maybe a thought provoking idea that changes the world. Now as I was blindly drifting
and searching for something to do, I looked across the room to find the only
source of light not naturally projected, and found my computer glaring and looking at
me. Now we know that devices are not beings, but this one had a voice. Not in
terms of sounds or words, but a telepathy that was calling my name in some secret
code. It kept saying touch me, stroke me and share with me your inner secrets, I am
to you as you will be to all and more. This was something that freed my inhibitions
beyond lust, this was something that made me want to satisfy it more than
myself. I was fighting this feeling that struck me as foreign, and I wanted to become
a citizen of it's world. It kept calling me, calling me in a seductive way and I was
intrigued to say the least. It kept whispering, moaning between each breath I took, its
like we were rhythm on opposite ends of this spectrum and wanted to find the nucleus
together. So I gave in, gave in to the power greater than myself. I was being seduced,
and I wanted to be more than I care to admit, because no woman has brought on
such a feeling, and I had thought sex was the ultimate pleasure. This was something I
needed and wanted and didn't even know it. Something to understand me beyond my
own understanding of self or the moment. I was losing control and I knew it. I was
fighting, fighting for no reason because I knew it was useless. I was not fighting to
win, I was fighting not to lose. I needed help because I needed to be in control, but
who could I call? No one could believe this and I would surely be committed to one
of God forsaken places where they serve you jello in a paper cup if I told the wrong
person. Who would be willing to listen to me in this state of mind, who. I closed my
eyes and tried to concentrate, but kept seeing the third person I talked to that
wouldn't listen to me and spoke when being spoken to. I wanted, no needed help,
but it was too late, I had been defeated. I had fought a worthy battle, but came up
short in my mind, but couldn't face the reality that I never threw a punch and was
getting hit from the most vulnerable place imaginable, from the inside. My focus,
which was stuck in a tunnel vision, had also been divided and conquered and brought
back to the one main nucleus I was searching for. I had lost to the temptation, the
same allure that calls to the millions of cigarette smokers in the world each day,
addicted and couldn't face it. I was powerless to this force, so I basically called my
head doctor to help me, because I was now helpless and needed someone or thing to
rescue me. I had been controlled to a point that the only remedy was the prescription
being given by the only one authorized to prescribe it, the light calling my name, my
shrink.