You never know until you reach the top if it was worth the uphill climb…

Today I have been single for longer than I was together with MFP. We were together 1 year, 1 month, 11 days. It’s now been 1 year, 1 month, 12 days since I broke up with her (though it was much earlier than that things were falling apart, sadly.)

I’m lonely.

I’m horny.

I’m stressed out and frustrated and homeless, and the last few times that I’ve had a glimmer of hope that things might go somewhere with a girl, it’s ended horribly.

One chick who was crushing madly on me and when we sat down to have a talk about “where do we wanna go with ‘us” from here” she realized that me just being me was going to bring up childhood trauma for her, and she cut things off. Another woman who brought me back to her place and then stopped returning my messages after the sex was mediocre at best, didn’t even have the decency to say “hey, this isn’t going to work.” Another woman recently was totally into me, making a point of how much she wanted to hang out and get closer… and then told me to fuck off and get a sense of humor because I had the gall to say, “actually, that ‘joke’ is kinda mean and it hurts my feelings.” And just before I met her, there was the amazing lady who spent a good chunk of a night out at the club smooshing my face against her tits and both of us enjoying her having me as a service submissive… and then a few days later I got a threatening message from her boyfriend telling me to stop “harassing” her, or else. Still no fucking clue what happened with that situation.

And so when there’s the possibility of a connection, I don’t even really want to put myself out there, because it’s hard to feel like it’ll be any different from all the other times before. I need my heart held, my body connected with another, mutually pleasurable sex and pain and whatever… but I’m scared that I’ll have my heart torn and dropped, my body remembering the touch of someone long gone, lousy sex (if any sex) and the only pain coming from “goodbye.” And there’s a fine, fine line between that and “you’re wonderful” — I just keep finding myself on the wrong side of that line.

Taste your lips of wine… anytime, night or day.

Sunday, I didn’t get much sleep. On Monday I only caught about 4 hours, and couldn’t get any more rest despite all efforts to do so, and wasn’t feeling all that great. Went out for a drink, and on the way back — about 11:30 — I asked Rabbit if she wouldn’t mind stopping for something along the way. Went to Wing Stop, since I knew they’d be open, and grabbed 20 “boneless wings,” half Atomic (AKA “Flaming Asshole in the Morning”) flavor, and half Teriyaki flavor. Since it came with a side dish I got fries, and as for the drink — I wanted to steer clear of caffeine, but I didn’t feel like whatever their lemon-lime offering was, so I went with orange.

Fast-forward to 9am Tuesday morning, and I was still awake, and frustrated, and wondering what had happened. Then I suddenly realized: I bet their orange soda was Sunkist! Caffeinated, no question. Oops! All that careful work to avoid it, wasted. It was almost noon on Tuesday when I did finally get to bed again.

So! My plans for Tuesday rather went out the window, then… but I got quite a bit of sleep. And when I slept, I had some intense and incredible (or perhaps incredibly frustrating) dreams!

When I woke shortly after 8pm, it was from a dream where I had been at my usual pub, making eyes at a very lovely young woman across the room, and she had been quite enthusiastically returning my glances. I can still see the low scooped neck of her blouse, thin blue and white stripes making plenty of room for her ample cleavage to show… I can picture the exact shade of her skin, the way her long hair moved around and with her…

Anyway, after a few moments of distant flirting, she stood up, walked over to me, and the first thing she said to me was, “Um, excuse me, but… are you trans*?”

Ouch. Not exactly the best opening line ever, but I tried to handle things gracefully, and I replied, “Pleasure to meet you! You’re quite lovely. You might keep in mind that your first words to me were to ask about what’s between my legs… now, I’m also quite interested in the potential for seeing your naked body [in the dream I paused briefly, took a pointed look down to her crotch, looked back up, then began speaking again] and I’m certainly flattered that you’ve expressed such an interest in mine. My name’s [I gave her my name] — what’s yours? Oh, and yes, I do have a cock.”

I woke just before she could reply. My brain, I tell ya — it loves teasing me! Grr. Even in my dreams things end before they get started.

I went back to sleep a few minutes later, and woke again around 10:45pm. This time, I had been walking around in public somewhere in my dream, and there was a guy leading a woman around on a leash, crawling on hands and knees. She wasn’t wearing much; I seem to recall that whatever she had on made room for her extremely large breasts to hang out in the open.  I moved closer to see what was going on, and by the time I got near, it was quite obvious that he was fucking her face, and doing so in the middle of the sidewalk. This wasn’t gentle fellation on her part, either, this was rough, throat-deep, how-does-she-not-have-a-gag-reflex fucking from him. He had just pulled out and left quite the load of cum in and around her mouth; she was licking herself clean and I stepped up to him to ask, “Pardon me, sir, do you mind if I have a go?” He shrugged, said simply, “Sure,” and handed me her leash, stepping to the side to watch. I lifted my skirt, slipped her head under, and just as her lips touched my skin…

I woke up. Seriously?! And yes, unsurprisingly, I was extremely erect when I awoke, and because everything was so noisy here and I needed to get to the bathroom to empty my bladder, I couldn’t do anything about it.

I really need sex. And soon. And more often than once every few months (it’s been since the beginning of October, and before that would have been maybe sometime in August.) Because at the moment, I’m dreaming my life away!

Used the wrong method, with the wrong technique.

I guess I’m just weird in my ability to just not give a fuck about so many things.

I drink — and enjoy — Coke and Pepsi, and diet versions of both, as well as plenty of other colas and other flavors of soft drink. I use Windows on my main computer, but I’ve used — and had both good and bad to say about — multiple versions of Mac OS, Linux, and a handful of other less-known and less popular operating systems. I don’t drive, but I also don’t see the sense in zealously clinging to one manufacturer and the bloodlust for anyone who doesn’t drive the same kind of vehicle. Sports team rivalries, fights about which genre of music is “the right kind of music,” or about which band is “actually good” within a certain type of music, seem strange to me.

And then there’s all the other false dichotomies I watch people set up, seemingly so that they have something to be “right” about (and so that those who disagree can be “wrong.”) Like, the completely bullshit division between “good” herbs and “natural” medicine on one hand, contrasted against “artificial” pharmaceutical drugs and “manufactured” treatments — or, if you’re on the “other side” of the made-up argument, the “benefits” of modern medical technology and the “backwards” attitudes of the people who “still use folk cures.” And similar to that is the artificial dicide between “good” medicine versus “bad” drugs / “fun” drugs versus “Big Pharma’s” pills.

Guess what, though? It’s all bullshit! You can totally take ibuprofen or Vicodin in the morning to help with your headache, if you partied hard the night before with lots of drinking and other drugs. Recreational use and therapeutic use work together just fine. You can boil some willow bark in the evening for a pain-killer tea, and take your prescription blood-pressure pills with it. Modern medicine and herbal remedies can go hand in hand. Or maybe, like I said, maybe I’m just a freak because I have no interest in picking an artificial “side” to stand on, and I’m happy doing whatever work in any given situation.

And I see the same thing play out in other areas, too. Articles crying about how “we’re addicted to technology” and how we need to start interacting with other people face-to-face “the right way” before it’s “too late!” Other people talking about how it’s critical to “move fully into the future” and how being able to connect digitally is essential, that we should strive to transcend the “limitations of” physical interaction as a thing of the past. I’ve heard passionate arguments about how “games with physical components” like boards and tokens are so much better than “those stupid techno-gadgets” and how we need to “get kids off of the computer” to play “real games” instead. And I’ve heard equally passionate arguments for “immersing kids in tech” from the earliest ages, making sure that they can “adapt to the new world” so that they don’t get “left behind.”

Again, bullshit. And I don’t understand why it is so absolutely critical for some people to cut themselves off from possibilities in order to fashion an enemy for themselves to hate. I’ll pick up my e-reader sometimes, and other times I’ll grab a paper book. I can enjoy shooting aliens on an Xbox, and have plenty of fun with Cards Against Humanity too. I can appreciate Carcasonne whether it’s played with physical tiles or digital ones. I can get out and take a long walk, smelling the flowers and trees… and taking some amazing photos of them with the camera/computer/communications device in my pocket. I can go play frisbee golf in the park, and use Facebook to organize a group of people to play… or I can play digital golf online, and happen to do so with some of the friends I was in the park with a few days before.

I know that people have their preferences, and that those preferences often not only inform their actions but dictate their worldviews. I just don’t get why so many people insist on creating such arbitrary and artificial distinctions, and adhering so closely to one “side” while loudly declaring how they abhor the other “side” of the division they’ve created…

Posted in General. 1 Comment »

And no religion, too…

In the last few days, from more than a couple of friends, I’ve seen statements of frustration and helplessness.

I get it. And then I’ve seen something I really don’t get — others who know these friends, whose suggestions (unsolicited, of course) have been along the lines of “Well, you should just get yourself to this specific religious group, because organized religion will solve not only all of YOUR problem, but it will fix all of the problems in the WHOLE WORLD, too!” And these “suggestions” have been given to friends who are not subtle or closeted about their specific rejection of the very real harm that religion has wrought on the world, people who have made it quite clear that as solutions go, that’s NOT one.

And yet somehow there’s surprise when “go to church!” is not received particularly well… hmm.

Look, if I said that I was dealing with an upset stomach, and one of you said “Go to that guy on the corner of 5th and Main, he sells this great brand of Snake Oil!” I would pretty much expect a chorus of replies pointing out how stupid that was, how pointless and unhelpful that suggestion was. I would likely write a scathing rant in reply to the offending commenter, and might make a point of how I’ve laughed off plenty of others in the past for similar ridiculous suggestions, complete with links to evidence demonstrating that fact.

And if I — or any of my friends — talk about how fed up we are with current events and feeling compassion fatigue, if we talk about how we’re slowly slipping away because we’ve been trying so hard to be self-reliant and it isn’t working, and one of you says “go to church! It’ll make everything fantastic for you!” you’re going to get at least one reply from me pointing out how stupid that was, how pointless and unhelpful that suggestion was. And that goes double when the folks you’re telling to seek out religion have made a very specific point of talking about the harm it’s done, about all the reasons why that’s a dangerous and unsafe place to be.

Or, put another way… next time someone who has shared their history of self-harm with you says they’re struggling, think about how “helpful” it would be to tell them that they could fix things by going shopping for a brand-new set of knives… and then shut your fucking mouth.

Has no one told you she’s not breathing? Hello? I’m still here!

This place is killing me. Still awake over three hours after posting my usual “off to bed!” on Facebook, just out of a bath that I took because I was ready to scream at the prickly pubic hair growing in. Washed my hair while I was there because it’s been a few days. Heart pounding. Realize as I step into my room that I’m holding my breath; I let it out. Breathing is a task that requires my focus and deliberate attention, not something I’m doing without trying. I feel the knots throughout my body, the tension in tendons and scrambled-up muscles. This is a place where I am angry, I am tense, I am so full of ugly emotion that I feel like exploding, like grapes in a microwave, like an apple under a sledgehammer. I was horny earlier, got distracted, didn’t do anything about it. Now I’m so wound up that relaxing enough to get myself turned on again isn’t really an option. Then again, neither is screaming and screaming and screaming until I’ve let a little bit of this out. And there’s nothing available to destroy that doesn’t matter; I could benefit a lot from crowbar and hammer to wooden pallets, for example, or an old mattress, or other unwanted and broken furniture. Sleep is the only escape i have, and it’s so little, and so insignificant in its assistance. At least I breathe when I’m asleep.

Just try to comprehend that which you’ll never comprehend

There are some people who believe that any consumption of alcohol is a horrible, irresponsible, dangerous thing, that it is impossible to drink wisely or well.

To them, there is no difference between “I walked down to the bar, had a couple of drinks, hopped on the bus home, and fell asleep” and “I drove to the bar, had a whole bunch of drinks all night long, started several fights, groped every person I found even slightly attractive, then got in my car and drove home drunk, probably ran over a couple of people along the way.”

Most of the rest of us recognize that there’s a world of difference, that in the first example nobody was harmed. This metaphor can be extended, but unfortunately there are far too many people who can’t distinguish between an example comparable to the first and an example comparable to the second if I were to take this the direction I want to go with it… so it’s not prudent for me to do so.

But my eyes still see.

Watch.

Watch how people react. What how they freak out, how they distance themselves, how they find hoops to jump through, contort themselves into finding reasons for “good people” to have really been “bad people” all along.

Listen.

Listen to the threats of violence, listen to the way words are twisted and their meaning obscured. Listen to the “solutions” offered to the “problem.”

Observe.

Observe the reactions, the calculated change in how people treat someone. Observe the demands for extermination, incarceration, destruction.

And stay silent.

Silent when yet another “joke” gets thrown out about how you should be killed. Silent as another person says “hey, maybe it’s actually not a big deal,” and they too are marked as evil, shunned and hated. Silent as they preach about how “love is never wrong” and then make a point of finding an exception (that isn’t love, that kind love is wrong, it’s impossible to really love that way, you’re making it up) but be sure to nod your head in agreement when they ask you to confirm for them that you agree that you are worthless and undeserving of love. They don’t know what they’re really asking you.  It’s small comfort, but it’s what you’ve got.

Silence is golden, but it’s not the kind of gold you can spend.

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