It's not the lies he tells, it's the seductive way in which he persuades you they are not true.

There is nothing so cunning as tangled deception. If you wish to seek out the truth, first uncover the lies that surround the illusion...

We, as women, have this slight flaw. Yes, admitting it, we are flawed with a faultless memory in regards to the good and bad in men...Stored within our memory banks is every loving gesture and sugar coated word, thoughtful moments, places, arguments, indiscretions, lies all catalogued, timed and dated...The list, for us, is endless...
It is not our fault...You give us so much to remember...

Passion is life and delights await those whose soul lusts for new experiences. Every breath should stir deep, simmering desire for those who incite torrid urges and send blood coursing through fevered veins. Throw each shiver hard against unyielding rock, salaciously invade the soft pleasures whose ripe lips hunger for satisfaction, demanding the flame be fanned and thirst be quenched…Demand no less, take no prisoners…

Take the road less travelled. Get lost if you must, because only in losing yourself will you find your true path...

Storms are relentless and unforgiving. You know it's there, you feel it surrounding you, threatening to consume you should you dare to look, dare to behold the captivating wonder...
Yet, fear grips. For although you know that it could swallow you whole and rip you to shreds, if you do not, eventually, the storm will dissipate, leaving you trembling and empty...
We storms know this...