Holding it together, breaking it apart.
Could I just perhaps not be sane, strong and composed?
I knew he was leaving so I knew to detach. I know the exact night I was able to do that. He got drunk. It was uncharacteristically sloppy of him but I’ve seen my share of drunk people so that really didn’t phase me. Being kept away and kept out of the loop did phase me a little. Later on that night he told me that I was probably desensitizing myself with my hitatchi after I tried to use it while he was inside me. It stung. I knew from that second on I would not be orgasming with him or probably anyone else for a long time or ever again. Finally, we talked about how he had almost all his most amazing orgasms with this one person and how their bodies fit perfectly. I like hearing about people’s sex this stung for me personally because I knew that was something I probably could never give him.
Well I wanted to detach, so there it was. After that night I noticed I didn’t care as much about what he was doing in a given week. If he wanted to tell me, sure, I’d be interested, but I wasn’t randomly wondering what he was doing. We still had some fantastic moments before he left but by the time that he was gone, I realized it was hard for me to pin down whether I liked HIM or the intimacy I was able to have to have with him.
I thought not being emotionally attached would make it easier. Unfortunately, I’m still stuck with this overwhelming feeling of lonelyness. I dislike when emotions win out over logic. I enjoy being a stable and solid person who is not prone to emotional break down or whimsy. I may write about it every now and then, but in person I am able to maintain a relatively calm and composed state. That’s why I tried to be as levelheaded about him as I could. Detach, become logical, enjoy the moments but say goodbye and mean it. Be ok with never seeing them again and if you do happen to see them again, well that’s nice. Be cold, calm, calculated.
There are just times when I wish I could let go and be an emotional wreck. Be nuts, fall apart, cry, depend on someone else’s strength… Perhaps if I can give that up I can actually become close to someone. I highly doubt that will come anytime soon as I would rather be logical and alone, then a mess and with someone. It’s just tiring and lonely, and instead of falling apart on someone I eat a bunch, sleep and feel guilty for being lazy… lather, rinse, repete.
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
I got fingerprinted today for a new job (in a school system) and there was a herd of deer at the location I went to. I was taking pictures of them when one came up to me and started licking my hand. The guy who does fingerprinting gives them leftovers. I think this guy wanted lunch. It was SO COOL and they have soft tongues.
thought process: blogs body image introspection privilege thinking WTF
by ammre
leave a comment
holyfuckin’rambling,batman
BRAIN TOO MANY THOUGHTS.
One ever present.
Contentment vs Elite.
Contentment, enjoying what you have, embracing the lowbrow, the dirt, soil, sweat, labor backbone of the human experience, also mob mentality, lesser education, eat the weak.
Elite, seeking enlightenment, seeking higher education and greater values of thought. art, high-brow, couture, sophistication, social justice, snobbery. disdain.
another thought:
People need, and they want. We as humans want to be valued and we want to feel special. “Love” We seek love from those we love or place value on. Once a person gets their basic needs met food, water, shelter, etc, the next thing they see is love, or to have a value put on their life. Religious or spiritual people often place that onus on their gods, desiring the favor of their gods, giving their life meaning. People with a good or high self esteem often feel that within themselves, as they love themselves and since they love themselves, getting love from themselves… well it’s a constant cycle until something happens to diminish their view of themselves to where their own love becomes not uplifting anymore. Some people are devoted to having a partner. that one person who views them as so damn special that they can function without each other. They love the other person, so they require a love back to make them feel special. If joe schmore loves molliesue, and mollie sue has no desire, intrest or value in joeschmoe then joeschmoe’s love holds no value… It’s like the love is the paper currency, but the desire to feel valued by someone who you value is the gold that backs that paper. love being jsut a way to find value in your life. monogamy touches on people’s inherent fear of not being special, not having a value. They need that one person who they value to value them back and only them, or else they don’t have a value and they feel of less value. If their partner values another similarly then there’s a deflation of that currency. Even poly that has a tier system has a note of this in that. It’s a step in a good direction. “Well I have to be the most special, but then others can be a little bit special”. Some people find love and value through a hobby. They value that hobby or job or skill and so when they feel they have contributed to it and that hobby has been bettered because of their contribution they have value. they love what they do, and shit the collection of trains or whatever loves them back because that’s a damn amazing collection of trains. Addicts are loved by their addictions. People need to at least value themselves somewhat or they will die of their own making. Abusive relationships come from when one person tears away all the other sources of value from another’s life and makes them dependent on the abusers value aka “love”.
Applying logic to an illogical emotion. I believe that’s called psychology. It’s a damn good thing I never went into psychology. I’d be shit at it. I’d also offend every person who is into monogamy.
That being said. I know that inside me there is a desire to feel special and loved. I’m hoping that if I temper it consistently with patience and logic, I will seek value from those who are worthy; of my family, of my friends, of lovers, of mentors, of me…
And there’s that fight for balance!. The desire to feel special (Contentment) verses the desire to be a well rounded, enlightened, omnilovingish kind of person (Elite) I’d like to say that my logic makes becoming elite, in this case, what I want to do. Unfortunately, I can’t help this instinctual drive to find people to make me feel special (content). I guess this is more a compromise then a balance, but it’s so stinkin’ similar.
fuckfuckfuck brain stop it. I hate thinking laterally. I should have drawn this in a diagram but it would have been illegible.
happy new year.
We’ve had sex many times before. It’s been some of the most amazing sex. I’ve had orgasms. That’s nuts. Yet for some reason I feel stupid giddy about the sex we had last night. There was a party going on we headed off to bed but there were other folks already sleeping in the room. We cuddled as we meant to fall asleep, but there was contact, lips, hands, heat… I wanted to feel him. He wanted me, too.
In n impulsive moment we decided to go out to the yurt. The chill had moved people inside and out of the yurt. By the glow of christmas lights he bent me over and entered me. Our fleece coats still on, my boots pressing into the damp earth… I was sore from him the night before. It hurt a little bit at first, which of course turned me on so much. He came. Our clothing was reassembled. We held eachother and kissed and talked and I felt so good. It felt young and stupid and passionate and silly and and and so many things at once.
In bed we held each other as we fell asleep. In the morning, I kissed him goodbye.
I like you.
I don’t tend to respond to that for the first time. When someone first changes the declaration of their feelings I dislike reciprocating immediately. “I like you” “I hate you” “I love you” “I long for you” “I am displeased by you”. When someone tells me they like me, my initial reaction is “Oh, how odd.” The standard response is “I like you too.” but I feel really weird saying that because it feels like a stock reply. No thought or feeling has really gone into it. If I told someone I liked them for the first time and their immediate response is “I like you too” I can’t help but doubt them. I will wonder if the response happened simply because they do not DISlike me and it just seemed like the right thing to say.
So when someone says, “I like you” I think “thank you” or “i’m glad” could be a perfectly legitimate response and the first person shouldn’t be butthurt over it. I think statements of feelings are more sincere when they are being felt due to a specific situation and not the stress of a reaction.
TL;DR – socially programmed auto responses are often insincere and will be questioned.
and then the next day
We can watch movies, or look at interesting things online. There will be a sleeping cat or two. There should be hot coco or tea. Our bodies will touch somehow, perhaps our knees relax toward each other, or maybe we are snuggled into each other. A trip to the playground happened earlier. The cold we endured there was what prompted the hot drinks which you told me to make. This too I want… Do you need the brutal humiliating sex? Do I need it? Who needs the comfort of a normal and cozy day? I can’t tell where one begins and the other ends. I know I want column a, column b, and heck any of the other columns from c to zed. Can I enjoy them if I don’t believe that it is what you truly want? I do not think so. I do know I think of them though.
For you, I will.
I want my partner to lace their fingers in my hair just above the nape of my neck. I want them to kiss me keeping me from going to dep, keeping me from pulling away. I want them to bend over so that I’m forced down on my hands and knees. Our faces inevitably broken of physical contact, but not of visual contact. There’s a hint of a smile on the lips but some combination of distant and evil playing across the eyes.
“Lick them” The command is given. I’m not into feet, I’m not a shoe licker, but that’s what makes it hot. I don’t do this for myself, but to please them and so I do. I lick with the tips of my tongue, I lick with the full flat. I make contact long enough that the warmth of my tongue can be felt through the shoe. It tastes grose. It smells like shoe and leather. But when they pull my head back to look into my eyes, they are pleased. I obeyed and I did it with as much enthusiasm and grace as I could muster.
They pull me up and push my head towards their groin. I orally please them, sucking and licking on their delicate bits. I can tell when I find the right spots because there’s a soft noise that escapes their lips and their grip on my hair tightens until it hurts. I wince but I do not stop until they shove me away. “Trying to make me come already?”
They smack my face. There’s no reason for it. No hate, no punishment. It’s simply because they can. I fall back slightly because of the impact, but I right myself and look back into their eyes. “How may I please you next?” The words are not spoken but they are plain across my face.
“Up.” I stand up.
“Turn.” I turn away from my partner.
They grab my hips with their left hand, their right hand pushes my face down onto the surface infront of me. They bend over and whisper into the crook of my neck, “You’re going to take it all aren’t you?”. Fingers start entering me. one, two, three… There’s some movement and wiggling as my wetness is distributed then the onslaught continues, four fingers now, all of them sliding in and out of me easily. The thumbis tucked and there’s pushing. I arch my back trying to pull myself away from the invading hand, but an arm is rested across my back to push me back into place. The dreaded 5th knuckle forces itself past and there’s a hand inside of me. I’m barely given time to breath when it starts moving inside me. They try to withdraw their hand but my body will not give it up so easily. Their free hand slides back into my hair and grabs. They pull their hand free of my body. I sigh. They shove their hand back inside me. This time it’s not a slow build up. My defenses are down and they are fucking me with their hand. I’m moaning.
“Fuck my hand”
I start rocking my body forward and backwards sliding their hand in and out of myself. At first its tender, but as I comply I feel myself getting turned on. My body is lubricating itself for what is to come. I slide forwards off their hand and when I move backwards to re-impale myself, there’s no longer a thin hand there but a fist. I pause for a second.
“Do not stop.”
I push my body backwards on the fist. The gentle slope from fingertips to knuckles is gone and replaced with the blunt width of a full hand, as I force my body back onto it, accepting it inside of me, for them. After taking the fist inside of me a few times I can feel the repeated exposure to air is drying up my lubrication. No relief still..
“Do not fucking stop.”
I wince as my labia become dry and sore. I whimper “ow” as they fist fuck me. I return to being prone under their arm. I want them to hurt me so they can feel good.
Finally, as tears start leaking out of my eyes, they stop. They pull me up to face them. They wipe their hand off on my face, smearing my tears and wetness together, sticking my hair to my cheek.
“Can you take everything?”
They pull me close as if to embrace me. One arm wraps around my upper back. The other hand finds it’s way to my ass. Two non-lubricated fingers penetrate my rear and pull up getting me onto my tiptoes and forcing me to lean into my partner. They bite my breast, hard. I want them to.
“Put some clothes on, we’re going to dinner… and don’t wash your face.”
your thing is probably awesome.
I loved Topanga she was so ahead of her time. I’m glad I did have a strong female to look up to . I think the only issue I have with this message is that I don’t know what “my thing” is. I think if that was more concrete, watching others go off and do their thing might now feel so sad and confusing. Where the hell am I going in my life? I feel so immature sometimes in terms of figuring out my future. I personally don’t see living at home a bad thing. Other countries do it all the time. The family unit stays together much more often, children inherit homes, generations grow up together. It makes sense. Part of me though feels like I’m still not grown up because I’ve never left mommy’s nest. Then jobs! I mean I’m putzing around with my theatre work, but if I was really trying to be responsible then I’d be out getting a graphic design job and working my ass off to move up in the field and make a better office monkey wage. I just don’t know if I can do that.
Where the hell is my life headed? Is fixing up my home really all I have intended for my life? What is “my thing”? How do I do it? How do I accomplish things so I don’t feel left behind so I can meet someone someday and stand toe to toe with them. I want to be able to say, “Here’s what I’ve accomplished. Here are the amazing things I’ve done and that I bring to the table.”
petrichor.
bones, blood, tissue, water. The magical is contained within such crude forms, while the crude forms are yet just as magical. The monster and the wonder and the same. I feel like there’s something keeping my monster from reaching my wonder. Which will die first without the other?
The demon inside me.
I do not give up control well. Even if you have me tied up, being beaten hurt, fucked, humiliated… There’s still a certain amount of control that I have.
I wish I could give all of that. I wish I could get swept up in a whirlwind of emotion and passion. Just disappear from my brain and melt into my skin.
You know something is wrong when a completely out of control abusive-ish relationship seems almost romantic and dreamy.
I know this is just a dance. When I watch it some part of me is revolted by how messed up they are, but some part of me feels like it’s yearning for that.
I want to be ripped apart.
(x-posted from my fetlife journal)