I even poured out one of the half-full bottles in my drawer. Not the other one, though. Just one. Two weeks before, I left the Corps. Unwillingly, gr...dgingly, silently, at my own request, but I left. I resigned. Not in disgrace, but ‘don’t show your face around here again, Buddy’ was the implication. For about a fortnight, I toasted my discharge in a motel in Jacksonville, NC. I stayed at a terrible place, drinking more of that scotch, wishing I had a friend, finding one in the bottle. I was. Thestallion’s and her own lubricating juices poured outinto her thighs and between her ass-cheeks, even upalong her backbone before dripping off into the strawbelow. Her nipples felt raw and swollen from rubbingbelow the horse’s body, contributing to the sweetsensations pounding out from her hot cunt. Strands ofcoal-black hair, now wet from her sweat instead ofrain, stuck to her face in wild disarray. She felt another orgasm building, and she instinctivelyknew that this would be the. Mazlow made a triangle and inserted ‘needs’ into each level. What he made was a hierarchy of needs. At the bottom was the basic need for shelter, food, sustenance. At the top … self actualization. My belief is that when I reach my self actualization, I touch my ‘heaven on Earth.’ There’s no way to maintain self actualization because we, as human beings, are constantly changing. Once we finally reach that point, there is always something new to process. And so goes the cycle… I think I know. It is time that I really show the person I can be, not that person that I had become. I had been aware that some investigating had been going on into my past. Friends had let slip the fact that an investigator had been asking questions about me, and my previous life and a couple of days later I contacted the only really good friend I had left. She had tried all she could to get me to stop my destructive rampage, but unfortunately I hadn’t listened. When the world came crashing down around my.