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This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...

Monday, November 26, 2007

Besmirched

I just love that word.

Here's another that I love:
molten,

and another,

edifying.

Besmirched Molten Edifying.

It's been quite a day.

ah, Thank You, Thank You

I was wanting to blog this morning, but hadn't anything to say. So now it's lunch, I've settled for the fact that only caffeine and sugar will get me through work and am trying not to focus on anything negative for now.

Rather than "work" I decided to spend a few minutes or so catching up on some blogs and possibly researching extra $$ ideas. Turns out, Tara has given me this Wonder Woman award and I feel blessed.

It's not the simplicity of the blog award, it's the thought, you know?
And so I pass it on!
Amy Goodman my uber-hero definitely gets one for being tireless, courageous and totally bad ass, Inga Muscio for writing a revolutionary declaration of independence for girls, women and men to come to sense by, and Pulley Whipped, for inspiring me on a more personal level.

Hooray for ladies!
And thank you Tara for showing me new doors to open that used to blend into the background (and for giving me Wild-Alaskan-Herbal dreams).

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

holidays

fuck.
the holidays.

i like my family, and am lucky for that.
the traditions are nice enough.

but damn, fuck. thanksgiving.
really? thanksgiving is a lie.

the holidays are a lie and make me want to retreat to quietly independently owned shops, drink tea, and read adbusters.

all of those things require consumption.
people are telling me they're buying me gifts.
i have only myself to give them, and somehow i still feel embarrassed or guilty.


Ten Days Later***addition***
from the "quote of the month" at the end of my yoga studio's news letter

"You give but little when you give of your possessions.
It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.
For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard
for fear you may need them tomorrow?"

- Kahlil Gibran

at turns

at turns positive and negative
constantly hustlin'
beginning to consider sex work
and how it might fit
and how i might do something way wrong
and how i might discover might

at turns determined and helpless
constantly strugglin'
won't give it up
won't lose my passion
it's impossible for my spirit to be
killed
no matter how many hours i waste
putting her off

{{happening? sure, things are happening, but i seem to be consumed with other flames at current junctures}}

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

New Year, Part 2

My new apartment was, and still is, everything I had hoped for. I worry about money, but no more than when I had roommates. I have Billie and worry I don't give the lonely kitty enough time and attention, but at least we're back together and have time to work it all out. When I was readying to move from the old apartment with 2 roommates and their large dog each, I met some people that held promise.

She and he aroused me. He and she titillated my mind. He introduced me to hot phone sex, new poetry by Leonard Cohen, and the concept of a Good Man. She led me to sassy confident sex, current witty humor and feminism. They were not alone in the panoply of lovers and friends that kept my late summer weeks whirling by relentlessly.

I moved. I painted the walls and climbed onto the roof to watch the moon rising. I bled and worshiped it. I read poetry aloud to myself while Billie lazily purred across the room. I bought groceries and incense and shelving. He came to visit. I was afraid. I was afraid he would be something I didn't expect, in a bad way. She slept over the first night. I was afraid. I was afraid I was getting involved with someone who didn't have personal boundaries.
He stayed, I realized I had nothing to fear. He was unexpected and everything more wonderful. He fed me chicken vindaloo, chocolate and the sweet spot that comes from pain begged for. I began loving him as secretly as possible.
She came back again and again and stayed. I realized fear was incomplete, a non-emotion of avoidance and, useless again. She surprised me with her deft humor, determination, complete strength coupled with total care. Bit by bit I decided secrets were worth even less than fear. The only secrets worthwhile are the ones that involve only 1 person, myself.

Secrets serve only to protect that which one is afraid of, in love.
I make declarations.
Giving love and receiving love two fold has taught me more than 4 years of college did, about myself, in a span minute in comparison.

I look at last November and how I progressed to fearing love. I look at last November and see how driven I was to have someone take all of me in loving acceptance. I look and I see how I gave up the best parts of myself in that drive and I am more thankful now than any turkey could ever make me. I have gained infinity and lost none of myself into the void I used to imagine and create in love.

New Year, Part 1

A year. Everyone reflects (if they reflect at all) at different points in their years and for different reasons. I am Narcissus, but do not drown, I am mirrored, I am glinting in my own puddles.

November 2006.
I had just come out of being laid-off my office gig with the Reading Skills Company. I spent October on unemployment keeping busy every day with writing, researching political players, and applying for jobs. There was a good amount of yoga, walks and Ellen at 3pm daily. I was going on dates, most of them bad and luckily leading nowhere. I met Sharlene in November through the Chicago Reader Matches. We began corresponding while I was in a hotel room in Terre Haute, IN filled with ennui (both the room and myself). At Thanksgiving I was head-over-heels and coming out to my family members.
I went to my first queer dance party in November and drunkenly ground against Sharlene, filled with lust, pride, and fire. I was ecstatic to have finally cracked the code on the lesbian safe in my city. I met women who worked in abortion clinics, at Planned Parenthood, as political activists and Rape Victims advocates. They all seemed very serious, but also, very fashionable and quietly fucked up. I didn't feel a familial connection of any kind but I figured I'd fake it with authority. I wondered what they laughed about.

After my dreams of connection and partnership dissolved I remembered again my "bad" habit of losing myself into another's being when I fell in love with my idea of their person.
I made a lover, I read the Ethical Slut and declared it a useful bible. I proclaimed happily, "Swinger!", and was introduced to OkCupid. I went on more dates and had sex. I was too polite because of sex. I encountered my first bouts of drama and rejection based anger. The anger never seemed to be mine. I was pleasantly transient and self-focused. I wanted my own space. I wanted money. I wanted sex and clothing and independent strength and spirit.

I got everything I wanted. I worked hard for it all, but never felt I was working hard enough.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

Wasp Frosts

Stalking through the silent grey
stairwell. I said, "I think I am
getting s.a.d. disease." which is redundant.
The slate sky and browning ground
cover over the bulbs being
pushed down for months'
hibernation. I am in love and still
seeking submission to some thing.
I am willful as a wasp and just as
fragile in the frosts of a void.



-for the lovers and Leash-

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Join the Military and stay out of jail!

Lacking Good Ol'Boy Patriots, the U.S. Army begins accepting outright criminals.

Pentagon Mulls Easing Recruitment Standards
Meanwhile the Associated Press is reporting the Pentagon is secretly reviewing plans to ease enlistment standards to make up for a recruiting shortfall. The number of recruits seeking waivers for criminal behavior rose three percent last year to nearly one-fifth of all prospective servicemembers. Two-thirds of the waivers were approved.
From Democracy Now's Headlines for 11/7/07

In addition to an illegal war being fought in the name of ideology, we're now importing probably angry and mis-informed domestic terrorists. Amerikkka, spreading democracy and freedom like and STD!

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Blatant Puffery

One of the reasons I love myself:
in 1 day at work I can multi-task for 8 hours,
listen to amazing soul, roots, world music,
write an inspired love poem,
search for new possible kink friends in the city,
be turned on,
learn about what's happening in the world,
play with my hair,
be disgusted by the government,
be smugly pleased by my own sexuality,
and look good while relishing my b.o.

In short. God bless the internet.
New Site Found. Check it out. One of the most informatively outraging things you'll do all day.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Fetish Night Number 1 (3rd edit)

After nearly an hour of drinking in the scenery and second hand smoke, i moved to the main room. The main room contained many things. There was a suspension frame where the shibari rope Master worked. The old doctor's table with stirrups went unused through the night, i leaned there for a good view of things. i was surrounded then, by a St. Andrew's cross, a leather covered spanking bench and a very large wooden throne. Not far above me was a chain/pulley system for suspension.

The spanking bench turned out to be one of my most fetishized pieces of equipment. Beyond my avarice for most things bottom-related, this bench is where my eyes would transfix, once Lady Maria went to work mounting it. Before Her i was, at turns, interested, amused and occasionally perplexed. i was passive, not terribly hot, but not bored either.

i began watching Lady Maria from the second She walked in. i saw Her get a very attentive foot massage. i felt mild longing as i watched her tickle the sub attending her with a crop while She carried on a separate, seemingly casual conversation with another Domme. i followed her with my hungry eyes as the minutes passed.

She disappeared for a bit, and i watched a little plastic girl toy get tied up and teased into ecstasy by the rope Master. Then, She returned, walked Her sub to the spanking bench nearest where i stood. She instructed him to remove his pants and get on the bench. he did so, She walked away, as nonchalant as ever. She kept him waiting this way, his ass in the air, raucous couples teasing him for nearly 15 minutes. i watched Her glide back, a determined pallor cast over Her deep eyes.

She stood behind him and began spanking him with a firm hand. She warmed him up and then went at his ass with a leather flogger, then a crop, until his face was red and sweating and Her nipples were rocks beneath Her vinyl top. She unceremoniously pulled his boxers down to his knees to reveal a blushing bottom, to the hoots of smaller minded onlookers near by. She walked away again. My Date chuckled at my new obsession as i panted over Her.

i relished the waiting She tortured this sub with. i took notes on Her every step and wondered where She went off too to let his steam back build. i rested on the arm of a couch a few feet closer to the bench and joined in waiting with him.
She returned.
Wearing a strap-on.

i tried vainly to block out my racing pulse and the guffaws of the nearby stooges and kept my eyes fixed. She walked around and sat in a chair, legs casually splayed before Her subject, and twisted off the cap on a bottle of lube. She dropped the cap and it rolled out of sight. i started a little then forced myself to remain seated. i wanted very badly to get on my knees and crawl around on the floor to find the cap for Her. i wanted Her to pat my head condescendingly and tell me i was a good girl.

She squeezed lube into Her hand and began stroking Her cock. She slid two fists up and down Her shaft until, in the mirage of my mind: She was shimmering, Her cock was shimmering, and my cunt was glowing crimson in the juicy shimmers of it all. i licked my lips. i glanced at my Date across the bench and He smirked at me. Oh ho, my heart palpitated roughly.

This play couldn't last forever of course, She had to deliver eventually. Before She got up and walked around to Her sub's ass i moved again to reposition for an even better view. i walked back to Him and leaned as He roughly whispered thoughts into my flaming red ears.

The tips of my ears turn scarlet sometimes, when my arousal is loosely contained.

Lady Maria went to town. She smacked his ass again and again, warming him up. She moved immediately from Her violent arm swinging to thrusting. She had held the cock's head to his anus and generously let him ready himself. She placed Her hands firmly on his haunches. She bent her knees and straightened Her strong back. i shamelessly drank in the hardness of Her nipples fighting against the taught latex. i mentally licked the sweat from Her shoulders and neck. i psychically placed myself behind Her, pressed against Her, readied myself to thrust with Her. Finally, She penetrated him. Slowly She slid in each millimeter of Her cock and he pulled his head back in the ecstasy of feeling each bit of one's interior walls stimulated simultaneously. he moaned his mouth into a silent O. i moaned to myself a little and pushed my own ass against my Date slowly, as if i were the one receiving this act.

She worked Her way into it until Her fingertips were white with gripping, Her feet in their dainty strappy heels planted, Her knees bent and spread; She fucked that man until i was blue and begging.


Favorite Things From Fetish Night, October 20,2007
Pre-play, in which I learn the riding crop is a very delicious and evil thing.
Eye candy in shiny black vinyl, fishnets, boots and zippers
Shibari rope tying
Spanking horse (Dear Santa...)
Watching women fuck with strap-ons
Ecstasy faces
Spending an evening wet and shaky because everything around is titillating

Thursday, November 1, 2007

Dark Lush Path

As I sit, quarter-heartedly (yes, that's less than half) trying to get myself to proof a storyboard for a third time, I think about excitement. The best actors base their work on scripts they're excited about. They know that's how the best work gets done.
So I sit here, and am irritated by my closed chest cavity and tight shoulder muscles. I can't even contemplate the wildcrafting herbal life I read about in Gaia's Gifts. It's too much, too large and away from me. Sure, I can imagine it, but contemplating it is far too dangerous.
I'm like a country held under a precarious dictatorship sometimes. I am my own dictator with an iron fist and troops screaming over and gassing to tears the masses trying to revolt. Why does the dictator act so monstrously? Because s/he knows hir power is fragile and as soon as the proletariat realizes it and gets pissed, shi'll be another speck in bloody history. So I clamp down and don't really ponder the freedom I know is out "there" because, well, I'm "in here".

I logged back on to teachforamerica.org today. I'd lit onto it about a month ago, and then forgot; a mess of lovers, a lovers mess, trying to find financial stability, trying not to freak on the corporation, loving fall, wanting peace, all of that day-to-day shit so easily distracts me, but I always return. Here's a crazy realization I just had: I've been kicking the idea of teachforamerica around for about 4 years now. For 4 years I've been going to that website and thinking, huh, this could be perfect for me. Or I've heard of people I know joining and have been envious of it. Four years! What the fuck am I waiting for!

I wish you could hear the cacophonous echo and scream that just rang through and through my skull when I asked me that question.

So I printed off the deadline page. There's one tomorrow at 8 pm. I could make that deadline if I wanted to cram it, but I don't want to cram anything anymore. I want to do something because it is right to do, not because I'm sick of desperation and desperate to get out of it. The next deadline is on January 4th. If I apply and get accepted, it's likely I'll spend 5 weeks in Philly getting trained. There's a little squee for Zem in that for sure.

In moments like these, when Ani DiFranco won't get the hell out of my head, and the best way for me to get off the dark lush path and back into beige-2D-fuck work mode is to type words glorious prosody words, my throat hurts. I literally get choked up on the kicking spirit that wants to violently bloody scream out of me. I have to rock her gently back to right here. And proof the fucking storyboard 1 more time. And tell myself all is as I made it.