It’s cold in here

We’re buddies. We have been for some years.
He’s married. I know his wife.
One time a few years ago she told him to go to me.
They were having some problems.
I told him, No.

There is no risk here.
I have enough risk in other places.

I let him fuck me because I need.
It isn’t complicated for me.

It’s cold in here.

He questioned my living situation.
I don’t need permission to fuck anyone of my choosing.
He doesn’t care who I fuck.  But he always knows who I fuck.
That’s just the way it is. Just so you know.
He won’t ever say anything to you…

It’s rather hard
Utilitarian.
But satisfying in a raw kind of way.

It’s cold in here

So I taught him to bite me.
Just because I need.
And I taught him to suck me.
Just because I need.
But not because I want…
to kiss

We talked about the knife.
He doesn’t know how….

It’s cold in here.

I hear the words echo in my head
“Slut”
“Takes one to know one”

Might as well get what I need.
I need skin and sex and body heat
So I won’t have to beg or feel shame in being turned down.

It’s cold in here.

So be it.

Mastery Thru Accomplishment-Carving the Path

As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives. ~Henry David Thoreau~

Soooo, if I write on the blackboard 100 times, Stop fighting grasshopper, do you think it might help? *wink*

she said

sometimes people just let you down…..

Too true.  No one wants to feel they have been let down, or that they have let another down.

There is sadness in that for me.

This morning I see the sadness as one of letting myself down first and foremost, and secondly letting others who believed in me down. No.  That’s not right.  Those people still believe in me even if their faith might be as shaken as mine. Their faith is shaken, or is one of disbelief, simply based on my lack of belief in myself right now.  That will heal in time.  But it will take time. And that’s reasonable. As much time as it takes to heal the rift is fine.  Anything less is not.  That would simply be forcing beating myself up again, in the name of not good enough and impatience.

Not sure I will do anything with that sadness right now.

I need to let this go as a way of being gentle with myself. Now.

But, I’ll examine my part of where I didn’t do my best.

I’ll do my best today. And tomorrow, the next day and the day after. I know what my best is.  I know how, too. With all my accomplishments?  How could I possibly think I don’t know how?

That’s also a way to be gentle and love myself more fully.

And change what I need for me and my happiness, my love of myself, without fear and taking on what is not my responsibility with my cloak of insecurity,  and of doing too much in the name of not worthy and not good enough.

Yah, that feels….right and true….filled with integrity.
I want what I want, and I will work like hell to have it.

Later, another friend said in response to my comment about it taking two….

No,  it only takes One
One to take the first step.
One to give with an open heart.
One to forgive the hurts.
One to trust.
One to believe.
One to hope.
One to show the way.
One to love ones self enough.

Because when One does that, then everything else is.

As I prepare to throw old scars into the funeral pyre as a method of letting go, I gather other items to fill myself back up….Otherwise there is nothing but continued emptiness….

Much Love and Smiles  xoxo

submission or surrender?

Seems I may need a disclaimer here. *chuckles at Shannee*  I am not referring to any D/s relationship.  Only an ongoing conversation between two friends.

That a year ago if asked you would have said you didn’t want a submissive woman, is interesting.  You have had a very sexually submissive woman for the past 4 years. That she didn’t acknowledge it till later, is moot.  You knew it and used it for the both of you.   It’s what it made it so good for you. Control  Just as mine was with my ex.  Control.  We both had it and we both used it well.

Can we identify what this really is?  Honestly?

I will counter that it is not submission either of us seek.  It is simply surrender.  They are not equal. Not in my book.  And I will offer they are not in yours either.

When it comes down to it, the reason we like/want/crave that submission in sex is simply one of hiding.  Of protection and protecting ourselves.

If we always control the “action” especially on a sexual level, we never have to return what we really want.  And it is ultimately the same as what we require from all others….total surrender-not submission-of our heart and ourselves, and being in that moment. Absolute trust. You don’t trust the exact same way I don’t trust.  Almost….but not enough.

Fears of not good enough come to the surface.

Not being “Man” enough often enough, not big enough, not strong enough, not pleasing enough, too heavy, to pale, not muscular enough, not rich enough, not powerful enough, not smart enough, not big enough boobs, not tall enough, not blue eyed, not a tight enough pussy, not curvy enough, not “woman” enough, not warm enough, not soft enough, not enough muscle control and all that meaningless shit of perceived personal preferences we project on to ourselves and others.

It’s all the same fear of “not good enough”.

Oh sure.  We may not carry that “not good enough” into other personal traits such as caring,  generous, or attentive.  That we believe ourselves to be a good “catch”….a good man….a good women is true. We are.

Yet, we grow impatient with those who will not or cannot surrender. They become “Less” in our eyes.  It becomes a personal affront to integrity. That is a “cover” for the real issue. It conveniently allows us not to look at ourselves but judge others with our same faults. It becomes, “You don’t trust ME.  There must be something wrong with YOU”.

No one is questioning integrity. They are questioning themselves…..just as we do. They fear, just as we fear. It’s always about risk assessment isn’t it?

I do not questioning integrity. That speaks for itself.  I question hiding the same way you question hiding. Of being afraid. Of having a shield around our hearts. Of using, “It’s all in your mind” as an excuse.

It’s not our minds we are protecting.  It’s our hearts. This is true of men and woman. And more than we are willing to admit.

We put on a good show don’t we? Knowing what it takes to “please” another sexually?  Trying to get that just right.  Being the best Lover possible. Learning “technique”. Learning another’s body and responses. Having as many “experiences” as possible.  Having something to “offer”.  None of this is “bad” or “wrong”. Hell, I’m a hedonist.  I like new experiences.  I like to please. It is misplaced when we use it to manipulate the situation be we can’t do what we require from others.  So, we attempt to involve our hearts when really, we don’t.  We conceal ourselves behind controlling the “action”  After all, it’s for “Your” benefit.  I want to please  “You”.  I get pleasure from pleasing “You”.  You don’t have to do anything for me.

I call Bullshit for each one of us. We are both guilty.  I have done this with you just as you have done this with me.

We don’t know how to receive because we can’t trust. We don’t know to trust because we believe the “not good enough”.

What would happen if we surrendered the same way we require of others instead of falsely using “submission” as the so called desired outcome for someone else?

Do we really become “Less”?

Remember in all this….we are mirrors for each other.

What we see in others also exists in ourselves. And more often than not it’s more “present” than we want to admit.

A disturbing thought isn’t it?

fluidity

I never use a pen to write.  Never have.  Unless forced, I probably never will.

I’ve always used a pencil.

I’ve signed checks in pencil.

I have tens of dozens of pencils with dirty tipped erasers.

I like graph paper. Or at least lined paper. But only lined paper.

I have lots of paper.  Quad lined Moleskine notebooks.

Leather bound journals with tightly spaced, straight lines.

Unblemished, smooth creamy paper for sketching.

I suppose that’s why I like watercolors so much.

There is a impermanence to them.

I want to let lightly tinted color flow from my fingertips.

Layer upon layer….

Life is not permanent fluid.

My pencil is fluid.

Watercolors are fluid.

My marks on the pages of life are fluid

Perceived

Layer upon layer

Subject to change

Fluid