I breathed deeeep breaths as I begrudgingly signed up to another dating site. It falls under boredom and morbid curiousity now…and come on, you know you want to read about it.

I turned on the Google location that I  N E V E R turn on. Seems at some stage in my day, I’d decided that allowing Skynet to track my every movement was a reasonable price to pay for finding dick.

But I wanted to try a dating app everyone told me about. First impressions told me there was more choice there, and the guys were seemingly better looking. Maybe the app was just presented better(?) I saw a few of the same guys from the other sites/apps I’d been on, still looking for someone who can tolerate them.

I also saw THE Mr Passion too.  Yes. Him. Again.

But first, the “date” I went on.

I’d had the app for (maybe) 12 hours. This is the first time I’d used  an app where I could swipe on my phone. The sheer joy of instantly judging someone and flicking them away from your gaze like a peasant is…just too much fun. I even took it to my mum’s house and sat on the floor with her behind me on the couch, and started swiping.

“No…No, no, no, pass, no thanks, MAYBE, no…”

And she was behind me saying “no, no, ew, AARGHH!!”

It’s addictive and it’s fun, until you run out of your allocated matches for 24hours. By then I’d accumulated a few potentials. And I found that nearly every time I swiped RIGHT,  it was “it’s a match!” or “blabla likes you too!” So either I’m good looking, or these guys are too thirsty and swiped right on me because I have a vagina and a heartbeat. I chatted to a few but I think the possibility of being able to ghost someone or find someone you perceive is better is just too much temptation. I left a few hanging, the windswept blondey who went to the beach twice a day,  the guy who took a shirtless picture and told me that he guessed he’d “start the ball rolling” and send me a “revealing picture first.”

When he asked me for one, I told him that I don’t take those pictures but maybe I could find something suitable in my phone.

Note – all I have in my phone are memes and pictures of me deliberately pulling ugly faces so I can hijack mum’s phone wallpaper when I visit her.

I scrolled through my pictures…and then got distracted and left him hanging. We’re too old to be wasting our time telling people how to behave. A few hours later, I came back to a speel about how he wants a partner to “do life with” but that people need to be attracted to each other too, (I agree) so he was just making sure that we had a connection, and I liked him and the way he looks.

Mate, sending me a pic almost showing dick is not attractive in a first exchange. I didn’t reply to anything else he sent, how he loves the beach and bikinis.

Mate, you want to see me in a bikini? Just picture a baked ham with strings, and then fuck off.

The Date

I swiped right on a guy whose profile picture was him onstage singing and playing guitar. His mouth was open wide, so I assumed – a frontman for a punk or metal band, and that was interesting. At this age, I’m finding all of us muso-types are winding back, doing more studio work and things online, working on the other areas of life. Also, due to the Coof, not many people can perform in certain venues, and others have closed down.

I have dubbed this person “PUNKER” for this post. He asked if I wanted to hang out. He was potential number 4 on my shortlist of guys I’d swiped right on. He suggested we try and get into a pool hall, even though there were Rona restrictions. I’m older, fatter and cynical these days, tired of doing things I don’t like in order to make randos happy so I said it wasn’t really my thing. I said I’m up for something else though. I ended up at his apartment to watch a comedy/stand up marathon because he was a self-described performing comedian. It didn’t end up being a marathon..

because I was kicked out after the first show.

Yup. (stifles laughter)

Before I left my house, I told my best friend that I had a bad feeling- Not that I was about to be assaulted and killed, but that it was going to be a waste of time and makeup.

I’d had a headache, I told Punker that I was going to have a shower etc hopefully brighten up, and then head over. He gave me about twenty minutes and then started sending me texts asking when I was leaving because he was hungry. It would have been kind of okay, had he not repeated variations of the same question.

I let it slide, when you’ve been out of the game, you forget how to act. Maybe he needed a chance… *shrugs*

I got lost on the way to his house. His landmarks were ass and ineffective because (I guess) he didn’t want me to know his actual address. He got me to park in a nearby carpark so he could see me from a distance, high up from his apartment. Punker next instructed me to walk around a corner and he would buzz me in at a gate, yelling so the whole apartment block could hear what he was planning to do. Then it was a long, dark walk to his apartment and he’d already disappeared and shut the door so I had to guess which floor I’d seen him on and the number of his place.

When I first went in, he told me to watch out because his cat may escape. I sat on the couch. Punker sat on an office chair, away from me. I figured that he was possibly awkward/shy – again, when you’ve been out of the game…

I watched some stand-up of a guy I’d never heard of from the early 90s or late 80s. During the set, Punker’s cat was going CRAZY on me, pouncing, biting me, playing with my bag strap etc. I reciprocated, one arm hanging over the side of the couch to pat and play with his cat while we watched the show –  because I love young, hyper cats. <3 

Punker wanted to get something to eat about halfway through. We left and walked to his car, he took a few big steps to get ahead of me and opened a car door for me.

K.

I’m not a new wave feminist etc and I think holding doors open for others (regardless of gender or relationship) is a nice gesture…but this seemed a little excessive to just go grab some chicken and chips. I felt awkward but I figured that the door might be broken. When I first met my long-term ex, he owned a shitty car. He had to get in first, unlock it and then reach across to push my door open so I could get in. He would often get in first when it was pissing down with rain and get comfortable, put on his seatbelt THEN lean over to let me in like I was a dog. Moving on…

We drove to a local place. He ordered. I was messing around with my virtue signal/face diaper mask, and when I finally put on and looked up, he was gone. I saw him sitting at a table across the restaurant, waiting for his order. He was waving me over…but he didn’t WAVE me over. He was doing the “hey you, come here” with his fingers fluttering, the way you do to a fucking WAITER. That made me bristle. My ex was also into gesturing like you were a child or pet that was trying his patience for simply existing. It felt like Punker whistled at me to get my attention instead.

I wandered over and sat with him. He asked how I was liking the comedy show so far.

I told him it was pretty good and he said, “I’m just concerned that you’re not paying attention because you were playing with the cat.”

I raised my eyebrows, and he added, “I know you’re a woman, so you can multi-task…I guess it’s probably okay.”

Again, I chalked it up to maybe he was new to dating. And he opened the car door for me again, which I thanked him for and said it was very nice of him. (I didn’t know what else to do.)

Back at his house, he left me so he could eat in his kitchen (I’d eaten beforehand) and I said that if he didn’t mind, I’d come in and talk AT him while he ate. He said yes and I sat in there talking about random stuff. Face to face, mask-less and with decent lighting, it became apparent that his pictures on the dating app were OLD AF. I started trying to piece together his story; he didn’t drink “anymore” (staple of Aussie gatherings, even just one or two) he had a LOT of bible quotes around the place, written on whiteboards next to how many reps he did when he worked out, and the “4pack” he was aiming for by a certain date. That, and the extra lines on his face etc, the slowness of his actions and words…I started thinking maybe he’d had a drug addiction or a breakdown and he was in recovery but not the same.  There was also something creepy  about his cadence, when I made  the obligatory, coy comment, “You invited me over, what if I was a serial killer?!” comment and he’d slowly said, “I had plans for that.”

While Punker ate his plate of chicken, no chips, nothing else, I took out my phone and checked my social media notifications that had pinged in the car. He raised his head and said,

“See, that’s going to be a problem.”

I looked up.

And he told me he thought it was very rude when people are on their phone if they have company. He said that it meant the other person doesn’t respect people around them and is not paying attention. Then he shrugged and said he guessed it was okay because he was busy eating.

Remember, I’m used to someone stamping out every bit of my personality, my quirks, my habits, my social life – so this made me annoyed too, in particular that it was coming from a virtual stranger.

The fuck you think you are?

I was appalled he didn’t even cut off a sliver of chicken to give his kitty, 🙁 but even more surprised when he didn’t ask, he told me to open the bottom cupboard and find the cat treats to give his cat. I did what he said, AGAIN, maybe he was just not used to addressing a woman he didn’t know, and I was beginning to feel sorry for him. Especially if he’d been through a lot and was trying to get his life back together.

We completed the comedy set after, Punker showed me his own stand-up performance (on youtube) after I told him he should sit on the couch next to me, the office chair couldn’t be comfortable. I could feel him look at me on nearly every punchline to check I was laughing.  Most of it was air through the nose-type laughs that I felt the need to embellish to appease his obvious fragile ego. He showed me another performance where he was playing guitar on stage, performing a parody of a hit song.

SO…I was going to show him my parody song. We had a few jokes like, “You show me yours, oooo I’ll show you mine!” and I felt like he was FINALLY loosening up enough to have some laughs, maybe I’d been wrong this whole time and he wasn’t a weirdo…?

I made my parody song it for my favourite streamer. It quoted some of his best material and the rest was about cucks, liberty, memes, getting banned on social media etc to the tune of Gangster’s Paradise. Up until this point, I’d been pretty liberal with my language when we spoke about customers or our slave gigs etc. The song I showed him had a C word thrown in there. After I showed him some and turned it off to talk about our respective performing etc. he stood up and said that he had to bail on the night, and take his meds to go to bed.

He went  back to the kitchen and I could hear him opening a blister pack and popping out pills. I didn’t know what to say so I sat there and asked, (WHY?!!) what kind of meds they were. I know, right?! *facepalm* I think I was just confused and surprised to be ending the night when we’d finally been laughing.

He told me they were “anti-insomnia pills.”

“ I said welp…I guess I’ll, er, head off… Hey, sorry if the song offended your or anything.” He said he was a comedian, nothing offended him. (Okay.)

I thanked him for the evening, and he said we should hang out again…But he shut the door behind me and turned off all the lights.

LOL

When I got home, he texted and thanked me for amusing his cat, the meds were kicking in, so…goodnight.

I was more than happy to never see him again. But I wasn’t blocked or anything…It’s been a few days since our meeting and there’s been nothing said other than a few memes between us.  I wish him luck…he will need it.

 

I’d say BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD…but it’s reached a stage where I’m not really looking per se, I’m just making memories and stories to tell others now. It’s kind of fun and much less disappointing.

 

 

 

 

*TLDR:

*Met a guy from a dating app – weirdo.

 *Possibly recovering addict or just got out of jail…But I have no time to waste figuring someone out.

*Was more attracted to his cat.

*Don’t use old pics on a dating app, you liars.

*I love men, and both genders need each other. Men are some of the best people in my life…HOWEVER…you can’t spell DISAPPOINTMENT without the word men.

*More on the MR PASSION SIGHTING NEXT TIME.

*YOU DO NOT OWE A RANDO ANYTHING.

Reading this back, mannnn, I should’ve just left after the first red flag, instead of collecting them out of morbid curiosity.

 

 

 

OTHER MR PASSION POSTS:

• Mr Passion 1

• Mr Passion 2

• Mr Passion 3

• Mr Passion 4

• Mr Passion 5

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden

I won’t tag you girls, but your book boyfriend is coming back.

 

Agent Trent Starr has an arc I’m very proud of. Some of you know that the first few Darkrose Novels were written long ago and were just needing to be tweaked to bring them to everyone. Trent Starr began as a lovable joker that was skilled but didn’t take himself too seriously. The combined attributes seem very rare in the real world but I’ve been lucky enough to meet men that possess them. Trent Starr has been fun to write for because at a certain stage, I’m very far from him but also very close in my understanding of what he is experiencing. I like to keep a reader far from some of his thoughts, giving him a little dignity or privacy. His actions speak when the narrative or dialogue doesn’t because some things can’t be explained entirely when you’re mentally ill.

The PTSD, anxiety and racing thoughts he experiences are something I know very well. Not for the reasons he suffers them, of course, but the brain does interpret situations similarly despite some differences; eg, a soldier caught in life-threatening combat or a woman running from an ex boyfriend trying to run her down with his car. My journey through gaining back my mental stability and health was one I didn’t even realise was happening. It took me  YEARS to (sorta) heal it. The trauma is not all gone. But it sits better.

Trent Starr always had a little trouble, even at the start, when I didn’t know shit about fuck. I knew what it was like to have a hyper-aware internal monologue, but at the time he was created, waaayyyy back, I didn’t know what I do now about C-PTSD and PTSD, and I was yet to go through a whole pile of other trauma in adulthood that trained me quickly.

As part of my editing routine, I listen to audio versions of my books. The neuroticism of Agent Starr’s thought process is more apparent in Red Cowboys than it was in King of Spades. If you’ve read KOS, you know he was spiralling upon his return from active duty, rejoining Cleo Darkrose …and now he is trying to balance his new roles and partner.  The book moves fast but still explores the internal struggles Agent Starr deals with to get his job done.

His grief comes in waves, like his bursts of confidence and violence and his racing thoughts as if his regular/past self is coming up for breath but still being weighted down by everything. Having worked on my mental health and generally reaching a calmer place, hearing the narrative of Red Cowboys is a trip. When I heard Trent Starr talk about his grief and the way certain thoughts hit him, I felt like I wanted to talk to him, counsel him and help to calm him down because the intensity of those feelings sounds like he was at war with himself – Particularly because he is/was such a strong, capable agent. Being a highly-respected man and suddenly being unable to perform like he used to also hurts the ego and confidence and or trust in himself.

He was disintegrating all the way through, but by the end of KOS, it’s clear he’s no longer operating the way he used to. How an Alpha/Sigma type strives to retain some of who he was (his residual self-image) despite life-changing injury, grief of a dead friend/partner, new roles in his career is fascinating for me to hear/read. I can’t reveal anything that may be a spoiler, but I’m peculiarly far enough away from the character that I’m entertained and intrigued by where he’ll take his arc. I believe he’s a very important addition to the Darkrose Novels and I can’t wait to have his groupies read more about him or to have people who know what it’s like to perhaps see pieces of themselves in him and think about ways to get better.

 

TLDR:

* Agent Starr’s mental health is featured heavily in this book.

*Readers can get closer to knowing his motivations and what happened to him.

*He’s still funny.

 

 

 

 

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All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden

 

 

When Red Cowboys is finally released, there will be the obligatory thank you page. One page is not enough….

I couldn’t explain how the last years have been since KOS was published quickly…besides some kind of haiku like

Thought I would be fine

Sick as fuck I almost died

Coming back is hard.

Maybe I’ll include that in the book instead. LOL

My thank you page will mention beautiful people in my life, and your lovely selves for your patience and understanding while I gasped for air.

My battle with illness is always vague on here. I have a few diagnoseses…diagnosi…whatever, that effect my life. If you’re a frequent reader, you’ll know about the PTSD, and nerve issues etc. That’s all you need to know for now, until if/when I write that action-packed, dramatic memoir. 😛 When someone is diagnosed with a disease or health issue, some make it a large chunk, if not, their entire identity.

I have illnesses. I live in spite of inconvenience, sometimes pain. I do all the things I want anyway, and my illnesses are a sliver in the pizza pie chart of what I’ve made this life.

HOWEVER,

…one of the reasons Red Cowboys has taken over 4 years to reach a stage where I’m content to release is because I have not been well at all. Physically or mentally. Pain in these two areas was so constant that I barely noticed I was living on the edge of agony every day.

There were 6 main things that happened (in the physical area:) 3 hospitalisations, and also 3 lots of random months of disability, in some capacity.  You guys know I broke a rib for eg. I’m not sure I wrote about the admissions to hospital to get a catheter (and other) because my bladder shut down and refused to empty, then expanded to the point where I was extremely lucky not to suffer permanent damage. I don’t think I wrote about the brain swelling bouts either.

Mentally – Holy fucking shit. I did not know how long it would take to repair my bleeding and decimated insides, the strewn and festering decaying flesh of dreams that would no longer eventuate. I didn’t know my PTSD was still kicking either! I thought it’d died down…but I was still living a lot of it in ways I hadn’t come across before so I didn’t recognise some of it.

After much counselling and hard work on my mental health, there was a day in Nov 2020 where I broke through some of the glass that had a l w a y s kept me living OUTSIDE the moment. For the first time in my life, I was THERE. And everything was ironically surreal to me because I wasn’t standing outside what was going on but I was living it…and I couldn’t remember a time when that had happened before. Headfuck and a half!

The man I credit this with is VJ. Of course, years of counselling too, everything they make you go through when you’re dealing with aftermaths of trauma. This man though, he set a large part of me free. VJ, you have changed my life, not just that day…but with your subsequent selfless generosity. You’re a beautiful soul that is a part of mine forever. You are fucking perfect, just out of my reach, but perfect and I know you will go on to do amazing things in this life.

Gained Angels – 2021, saw my receding grief make a come back . After I was incrementally getting myself back on track after my heart was smashed into even smaller pieces than it already was, I went to the cemetery to visit a friend from my youth. I saw a headstone belonging to another friend I had no idea had passed  away. Walking up to it was like a movie, and shakily sitting in front of it to make sure I wasn’t imagining it, was a mixture of shock/sad and something like, “Oh! There you are, my friend!” – which felt very strange.

He was a great man who contributed to what is my personality now. I wrote a giant blog post about him here. 

I also lost one of my best friends, Rob, whom I wrote about here and here. That is all I want to say about that topic in this post.

My Dojo and people there. Fuck, I think about it every single day- you don’t just spend years somewhere, learning who you are and stop thinking about it. I want to go back. My balls grew there, I was a strong person walking in, but while I was there – I was still suffering greatly and working through a lot, it made it very hard to advance to what I wanted in the martial arts realms because I’d get to the place after or before some kind of trauma. Now, I have to some adulting-regular-life shit I have to do for a while but WHEN I go back, I’ll be in a better place mentally to take on more of the challenges. I owe that place a lot and I wish there was a way to make a first impression again. 🙂

Miss Evans – I can still hear you threatening me and calling me names because I haven’t released Red Cowboys. 😀  This makes me lol even though you’re on the other side of the country right now.

Pat – from the start…you’ve supported me and encouraged me to fly.

 

 

TLDR: I’m going to add more to this. There aren’t enough pages or blog posts to show my gratitude to those people who have helped me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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and
EVER EDEN AUTHOR on Telegram and YOUTUBE!

All content is no copyright infringement intended. All posts are opinion only and are subject to change due to experience, kicking ass and learning how to adult more effectively. If you don’t like it, don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. Elements of original content may be reproduced with expressed permission from Ever Eden

 

My last meal was satisfying. I knew what it was. At a time when most places around the world are beginning to retract their crazy restrictions…

My state has clamped them on.

I’m not the only one who is in the situation. I had three invites to have a “last meal” on the weekend. From 31st Jan 2022, anyone who is not “fully vaccinated,” (a term that’s ever-changing,) can’t use restaurants, can’t go to the movie theatre, the zoo, a liquor store, school grounds, pubs, certain play areas. If you aren’t vaccinated for a virus with a 99%+ recovery rate, or if you’ve only had one shot out of the now THREE…then no soup for you! 
I believe this will piss a lot of people off, the ones who complied with the narrative to get along.

First time?

You don’t comply your way out of tyranny.

I understand that the state-coercion made it so there were some very difficult decisions to make. I know a lot of people who were forced to get the shots to keep their jobs, and if they didn’t, their children wouldn’t have food to eat. Were/are these people “anti-poke/vac.” Nope, and I’m not either. But I will not be told by people in suits with conflicts of interest between their governing and pharmaceutical companies. This is an excuse to take more control over not just the lives of people, but their bodies…No one has the right to dictate what you do to your own body. Certainly not the government.

If you search the phrase “Never let a crisis go to waste” you will see that several people in authority quote it at tough times, to push through draconian legislation and take another inch of your freedoms. Today I saw a youtube video of a man screaming at a truck, yes…a…truck…and demanding to know which freedoms were being taken by people protesting the measures.

Well, the ability to have a nice meal with friends or family for one…

Or to get a medical procedure they consider “elective” or not urgent. (some cancer treatments, IVF etc)

Or to visit a relative in a hospital.

Or to train at your gym.

Or to post something to social media that doesn’t match the MSM narrative for that day.

Or to pick up your children from school.

Or to travel interstate.

Or to travel overseas.

Or to maintain employment in certain industries.

Or to walk around without a face-diaper on and breathe fresh air.

Or to not have to show papers or a phone app detailing your medical records to a nobody-doorbitch.

and more…

It’s put retail staff and hospitality staff in an awkward position because they have to follow the DICKtator’s mandate and cop all the animosity while he sits in his home, with  his wife and kids just laughing at us. The staff at these establishments are on CCTV, they could be responsible for their company losing 20,000 in fines. (apparently) But …I wonder what would happen if they quit and told their business to fuck right off.

So a friend and I decided to have a meal just before new nonsensical mandates came in, despite the state reaching it’s goal vaccination rate and “herd immunity.” Now it seems those who saw the farce for what it was or analysed the risk the Coof imposed on them and decided to wait to see what the Fauci sauce was going to do to/for people are being punished. I don’t judge anyone who has or has not had the medical procedure. You do you. I will do me and if you STFU and back off, we’ll get along. There’s not a more accurate litmus test to me though than hearing people repeat MSM talking points and dare to be total assholes because the state is on their side.

We hit up a great Indian restaurant that we’d always meant to try over the years. It was everything I thought it would be. I’m glad my last meal was there before I’m considered too UNCLEAN to enter the premises as dictated by our DICKtator premier. I got an amazing Chicken Korma and wine, and my friend got a fancy mixed dish. We looked around at the other diners who had to wear their mask to walk through the door but immediately take them off when they sat down. We commented on how the serving staff were sweating and rushing around with masks tight on their faces.

They were lovely people, and I could see they were finding it hard because they could barely fucking breathe, lots of people ordering and lots of noise and running from table to table. When we were paying, I told the nice server guy to pull down his mask and take a breath. He looked so grateful to have an excuse to, sweat near his temples and on his nose.

So, what now? Heh. I flip between being sociable and  love to stay home and work on all my crafts – it’s not an intense feeling of unfairness to me personally, aside from feeling I’m never going to train again. There are restaurants posting to their social media accounts to let people know they won’t be following the apartheid protocol – so there are still places to hit up and eat with friends…

The market will speak…and I hope people aren’t going to stand for this for long…

 

 

Links to interesting stuff:

 

https://www.perthnow.com.au/news/health/tough-wa-vaccination-rules-into-effect-c-5504310

https://www.projectmatilda.net/video/153/wa-premier-mark-mcgowan-exposed

https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-10470191/Australia-likely-not-change-definition-fully-vaccinated-include-booster-shot.html

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2022-02-02/denmark-scraps-most-covid-restrictions/100797420

https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-60047438

https://www.dailywire.com/news/candidates-can-now-promise-to-investigate-fauci-defund-his-salary-with-the-michael-knowles-federal-public-health-protection-pledge

 

 

 

TLDR:

*Our drunk-with-power or corruption Premier is separating classes of people.

*People who are deemed ‘”ünclean” cant enter venues like theatres, clubs, restaurants etc without showing a gestapo nobody proof of a state-coerced/forced medical procedure. 

 

*A friend and I went out for a last meal before medical segregation.

*Fuck you, I wont do what you tell me. (yes I’m aware RATM are now Rage –FOR- The Machine now.)