Then this companion article:
Makes ya kinda wanna go ta Germany doesn't it?
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Fucking
First this classic road sign:
Then this companion article:
Makes ya kinda wanna go ta Germany doesn't it?
Then this companion article:
Makes ya kinda wanna go ta Germany doesn't it?
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Sex the halls
It almost feels like a joke at times. The walk down the hall is dripping with sexuality. Of course, the fact that I have great legs, seriously the kind of “come fuck me” legs, helps (well, it helps ME ☺). But if feels like a kind of Satyricon satire: “I’m displaying sex. You can’t see it! Ha ha.”.
Does the politics of the body or of public self or of the sexual self suggest I should step further out? I tend to think not – public spectacle is sanctioned in specific ways, of course. And so stepping in to a public sex that is obvious invites retribution at some level.
But the feint humor is there!
Does the politics of the body or of public self or of the sexual self suggest I should step further out? I tend to think not – public spectacle is sanctioned in specific ways, of course. And so stepping in to a public sex that is obvious invites retribution at some level.
But the feint humor is there!
Duality
(Fuck - the whold damn thing toasted due to browser and spell check)
A reconstructed memory from a failed entry (fucking spell checkers – I should have known!)
The entire male-female thing is a serious growth and discovery area for me. Certainly, I did not expect to find that as I did at camp, but it was there.
We exist as this odd binary: male OR female, not both, not neither. Challenges to this kind of authority are more common but still not codified in formal areas (law, commerce, governance). Step beyond this – you are currently on your own. This same duality is a mandate: be one or the other, not both. Conform. Fit in. Dress, speak, act, walk, fuck the part.
The duality of it all is a challenge. Even in a social aggregate where there are more than two – whether Hijra or Two Spirit, the predominance of the binary split that happens largely on biological lines is obvious. For cases that accept, even cultivate it, the recognition of the self as presented this way is still glued to the simple biological reality: gotta make more. And it can be that simple. “There are no rules, everything is made up”. Speaks true in culture as process, I think. Goffman’s Presentation of Self holds true to the extent that we can “get away with it”.
But for me, it is often a conundrum. From the tentative and often fearful experiments at 18, to now – that is serious progress. The self presents differently now, even among family and friends. There is still quite a lot of fear, but that is changing, albeit slowly. The kitschy jewelry and the erotics of body care are manifest to those who care to look, and that may be part of the oddity for me at least – the voluntary nature of it. You have to decide to look – it doesn’t slap you around the way others sometimes do (I understand they have to do that, but they surely recognize the sometimes confrontational nature of this act). I wonder often “does anyone see?”. Fear plays a role there, surely, especially with colleagues or family as-yet-unrevealed-to. But public? Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.
And the discoveries at camp were quite amazing. Male encounters lead inevitably to a surge in sex energy: great erections, strong body, good physical strength (I surprised myself!). Female encounters were much deeper, not “prick centered” (hah I like that!), with a real internal flow that demanded a different kind of filling. And it was all validated from feedback, so I am quite certain it is not imagined. The hard cock in another mouth, the admired body and strength pumping in and out standing up or prone all to an audience. The pumping in and out on all fours, getting fucked deeply and pumped hard until I extracted the energy and it fell out onto the floor as a pained reply. And it was all at the same time, making it even more complicated.
One nice bennie to this: the little demon on the shoulder is calm, still jumping up and down, but not really demanding the same kind of attention as before. No doubt he will hang around, but I wonder (and note the gender referent to him here) if that is only the male energy. What manifestation is the female energy?
There is a distance to go with this.
A reconstructed memory from a failed entry (fucking spell checkers – I should have known!)
The entire male-female thing is a serious growth and discovery area for me. Certainly, I did not expect to find that as I did at camp, but it was there.
We exist as this odd binary: male OR female, not both, not neither. Challenges to this kind of authority are more common but still not codified in formal areas (law, commerce, governance). Step beyond this – you are currently on your own. This same duality is a mandate: be one or the other, not both. Conform. Fit in. Dress, speak, act, walk, fuck the part.
The duality of it all is a challenge. Even in a social aggregate where there are more than two – whether Hijra or Two Spirit, the predominance of the binary split that happens largely on biological lines is obvious. For cases that accept, even cultivate it, the recognition of the self as presented this way is still glued to the simple biological reality: gotta make more. And it can be that simple. “There are no rules, everything is made up”. Speaks true in culture as process, I think. Goffman’s Presentation of Self holds true to the extent that we can “get away with it”.
But for me, it is often a conundrum. From the tentative and often fearful experiments at 18, to now – that is serious progress. The self presents differently now, even among family and friends. There is still quite a lot of fear, but that is changing, albeit slowly. The kitschy jewelry and the erotics of body care are manifest to those who care to look, and that may be part of the oddity for me at least – the voluntary nature of it. You have to decide to look – it doesn’t slap you around the way others sometimes do (I understand they have to do that, but they surely recognize the sometimes confrontational nature of this act). I wonder often “does anyone see?”. Fear plays a role there, surely, especially with colleagues or family as-yet-unrevealed-to. But public? Fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke.
And the discoveries at camp were quite amazing. Male encounters lead inevitably to a surge in sex energy: great erections, strong body, good physical strength (I surprised myself!). Female encounters were much deeper, not “prick centered” (hah I like that!), with a real internal flow that demanded a different kind of filling. And it was all validated from feedback, so I am quite certain it is not imagined. The hard cock in another mouth, the admired body and strength pumping in and out standing up or prone all to an audience. The pumping in and out on all fours, getting fucked deeply and pumped hard until I extracted the energy and it fell out onto the floor as a pained reply. And it was all at the same time, making it even more complicated.
One nice bennie to this: the little demon on the shoulder is calm, still jumping up and down, but not really demanding the same kind of attention as before. No doubt he will hang around, but I wonder (and note the gender referent to him here) if that is only the male energy. What manifestation is the female energy?
There is a distance to go with this.
Friday, September 22, 2006
camp highlights
Guess this is on my mind.
Highlights:
Not one, but TWO good thumpings!
The first was from a totally gorgeous woman whom I actually ASKED after she mentioned her double. What a treat. I felt totally out of place on this - me? Get what I ask for? From someone FAR more versed in this? Why not the "go fuck yerself" reply? No idea. But it was really nice. I regretted being as tired as I was, and having to make myself go to bed and sleep to teach the next day, cuz I would have kept right on. (I my get brave and try and co-cabin with this group next year...they are all pretty goddamm hot).
the second a spontaneous invite from my mentor MC. It too was good. She asked me - postscript - "describe your emotions". That will take some work. Feelings? Easy. Emotions? Hmmm. But man, that was one BIG cock I took in, ALL the way in. And I think the screaming and smashing my hand against the floor (all with an audience I guess) was as close as I have ever come to really truly letting it go. And clearly done with both MC (very experienced) and the other woman who is totally experienced. I am in her league???
A totally hot guy
I really REALLY wanted to fuck him. But I had no way to ask. No way to push past the little me and say "Man, you are hot." A lesson somewhere I think. I did get a good intro to him via a class - I just wanted that to keep going and then to do more. What I wimp I am. SO now I am planning somehow to do something with movement next year - I have this piece of music - I burn with this it almost scares me - and I am hoping beyond hope he will be up there on stage doing this with me. Scary.
A totally hot girl.
I mean seriously. She has been to all the camps I have been to. She led some amazing sessions. And she is so totally beyond my league. Another lesson, I think: SPEAK UP you wimp! But I can't, at least not for her. Crap. I even tried tossing hints around to others hoping there'd be this Cap'n J Smith thing - what a dork. But I guess I can imagine it.
Good classes.
I taught good sessions. All of them were good. And the thing I really like is the stories that emerge - they are so amazing. So many people hurt so much. How can that be? But they do. And I really do think a few people got something deep and useful and meaningful from them all. That's all it takes. And in at least one case, I know that the person said he got a lot from it. And that showed by the really good, connecting conversations he and I had. That alone is worth it all for me. If I can't bring anything to anyone, I shouldn't be there.
First (and second) flogging.
A truly cathartic release. I wanted it HARD. And she delivered. First time - that was good. No permanent marks. I felt that tingle for 24 hours. And the second was as good, in as much as it happened while I was being fucked AND sucked - can't complain there.
Strap-on.
Me wierdo. Yes, I DO like USING a strap on. A guy? What is THAT about? Fuck em if they can't take a joke. Yes, I did get to use it. Both dills too. And, she asked me (Ok, I had to direct that invite to the strap on...). That was one sweat session. I mean really pounding. And the odd part is she was a sub - I did not quite appreciate that at the outset, so it got interesting when she asked for the real bits and I said no, I really liked it like this. Well, so did she. And we really had at it. Nice.
Self.
I wore what I wanted, when I wanted. This was a really nice part of being here again - the real me (well, the one others see and certainly one I feel a lot of) out on display and no one gave a shit. Nice. and it let me connect with that well. A bummer there was no really nice environs to shave - such a charge there. It is camp after all, but still.
Breath.
A remarkable catharsis in the session on the fire breath orgasm. I noticed an hour later - no back pain! What a gift. I have the instrucciones, will use THAT again.
And similarly, the Sex Magic time. That uncanny connection between lower back and "lack". It fits., like a glove (or a condom!). But what precisely do I lack? It is easy to slide downhill into "looks" or "talent" (sex talent) or "self confidence". But is it so simple? I think I have processed this one the most.
Kanga.
(A pseudonym). Shit. I am really going to miss him a LOT. His rotation is done. He was clearly a key part of my first camp. It sucks he is going so far away. Not fair. Can I plot to get to DC and visit? Odd - we connect at a certain level. But no sex. Huh? I'd like to play with him and his wife - but again.... Eeyore wins. Shit that he is gone. I saw him as a doorway (although I was sorely disappointed that the one wish I thought would happen did not!)
Song heart.
Powerful re-meeting with last year's grief (thx to HB for that observation). I knew it might happen. Had really nice picking times on the porch, esp b4 camp filled up. (Let's face it, a really REALLY good picking time is MUCH better than sex!) But it was a surprise when it arrived. I knew I was overtired. I thought to myself I should NOT sing this. But I did. And that sweet fellow S was sitting quietly and listening. And I totally lost it on verse 3 - started wailing and crying and decided "fuck the drama ban. I NEED to let this out, esp HERE". So I did. S listened. I really expected 2 things to happen: that he would get up and walk away. That someone from my "friendly" cabin (hah!) would come out and TELL me "Get a life Drama asshole". (I think my cabin was empty). S was REALLY nice. I dumped it all out - and it felt good. I don't think this is over. But I think this went a long way to a resolution. Then I went on a whim to wrestle, b/c I knew I had a ton of internal energy.
Wrestling.
This was FUN. I surprised myself. I was a lot stronger than I thought I was! And it was totally fun nude wrestling with another hottie, esp when he had to submit :) I think if this had gone on, I would have fucked every guy there or been done by any willing woman standing there with a nice hard strap-on dick. It was grand... except it ended prematurely with an injury. I was devastated. Not ONLY was it over, but the one person I thought was totally a hunk, someone I really wanted to connect to (physically as well as mentally) was out of the running. Of course, the Stupid Nurturing Me (c)(tm) then assumed "That's it for him. I certainly can't burden him with some seduction request now. Go hide". I am hoping next year will work - nude olive oil wrestling - that has to be one of my oldest fantasies!
Ritual.
There she was. Shit, a fucking goddess. Off limits for me, for sure. A good ritual - she knows what to do. And I really did not expect to have a list. I knew WHAT it was (it was a who) but not how. The breath? So I found it at the last second, and burned it. I realize now how good that felt. And how it helps me REMEMBER to let that go.
Lowlights
Cabin.
MC is sweet. I love her, and really like her mentoring and patience. But her friends... they are TOTALLY weird. Cold. Why is that? I really do NOT think that was me at all. They just did not want anything to do with me. Well, in fairness, MC's friend was actually very pleasant, and even seemed to like my music. But those other 4? Man. I anticipated one, from the previous camps, but sheesh-o-rama. I need warm and fun and happy and friendly - EHHH. None of the above. Who made them so cold? How sad. So next year I will try and do this differently. I really want warm laughing fun people, not cold, angry withdrawn egos.
Food.
Sigh.
Weather.
Sigh.
Driving 9 hours.
Sigh.
My own fucked up self image.
Highlights:
Not one, but TWO good thumpings!
The first was from a totally gorgeous woman whom I actually ASKED after she mentioned her double. What a treat. I felt totally out of place on this - me? Get what I ask for? From someone FAR more versed in this? Why not the "go fuck yerself" reply? No idea. But it was really nice. I regretted being as tired as I was, and having to make myself go to bed and sleep to teach the next day, cuz I would have kept right on. (I my get brave and try and co-cabin with this group next year...they are all pretty goddamm hot).
the second a spontaneous invite from my mentor MC. It too was good. She asked me - postscript - "describe your emotions". That will take some work. Feelings? Easy. Emotions? Hmmm. But man, that was one BIG cock I took in, ALL the way in. And I think the screaming and smashing my hand against the floor (all with an audience I guess) was as close as I have ever come to really truly letting it go. And clearly done with both MC (very experienced) and the other woman who is totally experienced. I am in her league???
A totally hot guy
I really REALLY wanted to fuck him. But I had no way to ask. No way to push past the little me and say "Man, you are hot." A lesson somewhere I think. I did get a good intro to him via a class - I just wanted that to keep going and then to do more. What I wimp I am. SO now I am planning somehow to do something with movement next year - I have this piece of music - I burn with this it almost scares me - and I am hoping beyond hope he will be up there on stage doing this with me. Scary.
A totally hot girl.
I mean seriously. She has been to all the camps I have been to. She led some amazing sessions. And she is so totally beyond my league. Another lesson, I think: SPEAK UP you wimp! But I can't, at least not for her. Crap. I even tried tossing hints around to others hoping there'd be this Cap'n J Smith thing - what a dork. But I guess I can imagine it.
Good classes.
I taught good sessions. All of them were good. And the thing I really like is the stories that emerge - they are so amazing. So many people hurt so much. How can that be? But they do. And I really do think a few people got something deep and useful and meaningful from them all. That's all it takes. And in at least one case, I know that the person said he got a lot from it. And that showed by the really good, connecting conversations he and I had. That alone is worth it all for me. If I can't bring anything to anyone, I shouldn't be there.
First (and second) flogging.
A truly cathartic release. I wanted it HARD. And she delivered. First time - that was good. No permanent marks. I felt that tingle for 24 hours. And the second was as good, in as much as it happened while I was being fucked AND sucked - can't complain there.
Strap-on.
Me wierdo. Yes, I DO like USING a strap on. A guy? What is THAT about? Fuck em if they can't take a joke. Yes, I did get to use it. Both dills too. And, she asked me (Ok, I had to direct that invite to the strap on...). That was one sweat session. I mean really pounding. And the odd part is she was a sub - I did not quite appreciate that at the outset, so it got interesting when she asked for the real bits and I said no, I really liked it like this. Well, so did she. And we really had at it. Nice.
Self.
I wore what I wanted, when I wanted. This was a really nice part of being here again - the real me (well, the one others see and certainly one I feel a lot of) out on display and no one gave a shit. Nice. and it let me connect with that well. A bummer there was no really nice environs to shave - such a charge there. It is camp after all, but still.
Breath.
A remarkable catharsis in the session on the fire breath orgasm. I noticed an hour later - no back pain! What a gift. I have the instrucciones, will use THAT again.
And similarly, the Sex Magic time. That uncanny connection between lower back and "lack". It fits., like a glove (or a condom!). But what precisely do I lack? It is easy to slide downhill into "looks" or "talent" (sex talent) or "self confidence". But is it so simple? I think I have processed this one the most.
Kanga.
(A pseudonym). Shit. I am really going to miss him a LOT. His rotation is done. He was clearly a key part of my first camp. It sucks he is going so far away. Not fair. Can I plot to get to DC and visit? Odd - we connect at a certain level. But no sex. Huh? I'd like to play with him and his wife - but again.... Eeyore wins. Shit that he is gone. I saw him as a doorway (although I was sorely disappointed that the one wish I thought would happen did not!)
Song heart.
Powerful re-meeting with last year's grief (thx to HB for that observation). I knew it might happen. Had really nice picking times on the porch, esp b4 camp filled up. (Let's face it, a really REALLY good picking time is MUCH better than sex!) But it was a surprise when it arrived. I knew I was overtired. I thought to myself I should NOT sing this. But I did. And that sweet fellow S was sitting quietly and listening. And I totally lost it on verse 3 - started wailing and crying and decided "fuck the drama ban. I NEED to let this out, esp HERE". So I did. S listened. I really expected 2 things to happen: that he would get up and walk away. That someone from my "friendly" cabin (hah!) would come out and TELL me "Get a life Drama asshole". (I think my cabin was empty). S was REALLY nice. I dumped it all out - and it felt good. I don't think this is over. But I think this went a long way to a resolution. Then I went on a whim to wrestle, b/c I knew I had a ton of internal energy.
Wrestling.
This was FUN. I surprised myself. I was a lot stronger than I thought I was! And it was totally fun nude wrestling with another hottie, esp when he had to submit :) I think if this had gone on, I would have fucked every guy there or been done by any willing woman standing there with a nice hard strap-on dick. It was grand... except it ended prematurely with an injury. I was devastated. Not ONLY was it over, but the one person I thought was totally a hunk, someone I really wanted to connect to (physically as well as mentally) was out of the running. Of course, the Stupid Nurturing Me (c)(tm) then assumed "That's it for him. I certainly can't burden him with some seduction request now. Go hide". I am hoping next year will work - nude olive oil wrestling - that has to be one of my oldest fantasies!
Ritual.
There she was. Shit, a fucking goddess. Off limits for me, for sure. A good ritual - she knows what to do. And I really did not expect to have a list. I knew WHAT it was (it was a who) but not how. The breath? So I found it at the last second, and burned it. I realize now how good that felt. And how it helps me REMEMBER to let that go.
Lowlights
Cabin.
MC is sweet. I love her, and really like her mentoring and patience. But her friends... they are TOTALLY weird. Cold. Why is that? I really do NOT think that was me at all. They just did not want anything to do with me. Well, in fairness, MC's friend was actually very pleasant, and even seemed to like my music. But those other 4? Man. I anticipated one, from the previous camps, but sheesh-o-rama. I need warm and fun and happy and friendly - EHHH. None of the above. Who made them so cold? How sad. So next year I will try and do this differently. I really want warm laughing fun people, not cold, angry withdrawn egos.
Food.
Sigh.
Weather.
Sigh.
Driving 9 hours.
Sigh.
My own fucked up self image.
Too Many Mes
This whole identity thing - sometimes it really sucks.
there are, quite simply too goddam many "me"s.
The male one. The conformist. The "picket fence" version, relegated and tacitly accepting the culturally borne roles.
The "other" male one. the one that really doesn't "get off" on straight fucking but has no idea why. The one who challenges authority. The one with the really offbeat sense of humor, SO friggin' offbeat that 95% of it is completely missed. Too bad. They don't know what they're missing.
The female one. The one who relishes his ankle jewelry. (Is it just the feel? The look?) The one who delights in the erotic nature of shaving. The one who seeks that perfect pair of shoes.
The "other" female one. The cook, bottle-fuckin-washer, swiss army knife. Clean, work, wash, pick up.
That offbeat male. The one that gets really really hard when playing sex with other hot males (that play and that man a distinctly rare event as well as rare commodity). A really good erection is a serious joy - ah to share with another who also relishes it.
The offbeat female. The one who gets really hot wearing his strap-on and rambunctiously fucking the daylights out of a willing bio-woman at camp (I think I seriously lost 5 pounds in that hour).
The male/female tramp. Well, sort of. The one who has it inside to BE that willing tramp. The one who knows s/he is just unversed enough to have the courage to try, but if the door is opened... The one that was on Sunday night at camp: getting sucked off by a sub while being whipped - hard - by a Domme, and then being fucked hard by another strong Domme (you're gonna put ALL that in ME??? Ah damn, I DID!). Trampy enough to want to do the whole thing over again. Trampy enough to delight in the gathering audience, hoping for more.
the broken. The one who can't bring him/herself to actually ask. the one who, when I do screw up the guts to ask, it comes out all weak and puny, like some fucking geek (well, I am part that) who is clue-fucking-less about it all. the one who automatically goes to that same old place: "I'm so nothing."
The felt. (No not THAT kinda felt. See above for that one). The one who writes songs that he cries to. The one who PUBLICLY breaks down in loud tears trying to sings the same song he couldn't even mutter at LAST year's camp, and worries the drama ("NO DRAMA ALLOWED" but is it???) The one who HAS to have that daily does of deeply felt music. The one who gets totally hotted listening to ‘Tank’ and vows public exhibition on the theme of the heart next year: naked, throbbing erections moving hard and fast in total sync on public stage. “Do me now”.
Identity.
TSA should have a field day with this.
"Can I see you passport please?"
"Which one?"
there are, quite simply too goddam many "me"s.
The male one. The conformist. The "picket fence" version, relegated and tacitly accepting the culturally borne roles.
The "other" male one. the one that really doesn't "get off" on straight fucking but has no idea why. The one who challenges authority. The one with the really offbeat sense of humor, SO friggin' offbeat that 95% of it is completely missed. Too bad. They don't know what they're missing.
The female one. The one who relishes his ankle jewelry. (Is it just the feel? The look?) The one who delights in the erotic nature of shaving. The one who seeks that perfect pair of shoes.
The "other" female one. The cook, bottle-fuckin-washer, swiss army knife. Clean, work, wash, pick up.
That offbeat male. The one that gets really really hard when playing sex with other hot males (that play and that man a distinctly rare event as well as rare commodity). A really good erection is a serious joy - ah to share with another who also relishes it.
The offbeat female. The one who gets really hot wearing his strap-on and rambunctiously fucking the daylights out of a willing bio-woman at camp (I think I seriously lost 5 pounds in that hour).
The male/female tramp. Well, sort of. The one who has it inside to BE that willing tramp. The one who knows s/he is just unversed enough to have the courage to try, but if the door is opened... The one that was on Sunday night at camp: getting sucked off by a sub while being whipped - hard - by a Domme, and then being fucked hard by another strong Domme (you're gonna put ALL that in ME??? Ah damn, I DID!). Trampy enough to want to do the whole thing over again. Trampy enough to delight in the gathering audience, hoping for more.
the broken. The one who can't bring him/herself to actually ask. the one who, when I do screw up the guts to ask, it comes out all weak and puny, like some fucking geek (well, I am part that) who is clue-fucking-less about it all. the one who automatically goes to that same old place: "I'm so nothing."
The felt. (No not THAT kinda felt. See above for that one). The one who writes songs that he cries to. The one who PUBLICLY breaks down in loud tears trying to sings the same song he couldn't even mutter at LAST year's camp, and worries the drama ("NO DRAMA ALLOWED" but is it???) The one who HAS to have that daily does of deeply felt music. The one who gets totally hotted listening to ‘Tank’ and vows public exhibition on the theme of the heart next year: naked, throbbing erections moving hard and fast in total sync on public stage. “Do me now”.
Identity.
TSA should have a field day with this.
"Can I see you passport please?"
"Which one?"
Thursday, September 21, 2006
DO Reflections redux - 2006
It was a good camp.
I did 5 workshops - all went well, I think. It was REALLY nice to get feedback from particpants that they really connected with the workshop idea and subject. I think that alone made all worth while. And it was my goal - I set out to do the best I could on all of them. that alone was the purpose of my going, I made it that way, and I think it paid off. I'm not famous, never will be in that regard, but it doesn't matter. I have the ability, I think, to offer to others something that they can understand and use to enrich themselves. That felt really really nice.
the mind-spirit-body connection seems weak there for me. I am not yet fully sure of how I see this, but it is there in a vague form now. For instances...
I did the long gbreathing workshop. It was pretty amazing. And after an hour, I realized a lot of my physical pain was simply gone - realy not there. Coincidence perhaps, but it matters little if the result is the same. I plan to try to master that method!
And I did the Sex Magic session. Revelations happen in interesting ways: "the lower back (chakra, I think she said) is connected to LACK". And yes, I am aware of feeling a lack of something. There is a strong sense of epihany here, but no really solid "WOW" with it.
Ironic - I give a session on asking for what you want,.... and I can't even do it myself. well, maybe not entirely true - I did ask - twice - and both granted. (Wait, the first was being asked, or perhaps "hinted: to, and then affirming, and then asking - once that ice was broken). The second was an outright "I would like..." - I will spare the details.
and then to hear I seemed, or was part of a scene, that was HOT, that I had a nice body - that is very alien turf for me.
But I think it is for many. How to really REALLY REALLY LET GO?
That, I think, is my next personl goal - really let go. I got damn close this time. Pounding, screaming, shouting, pumping, sweating - it was good. But there is more, deeper, more to let out to reveal, to display, to show. Is that what all this is? Public display? Not for all - some hide away.
Seems there is a kind of fuzzy division there: on ethe one hand there are those who clamber in to play, seriously, and enjoy that aspect of it. Some take that seriously, maybe too seriously. The other fuzzy side are those who come for no more reason than to indulge in the act of wanton fucking. That's the group I can't really seem to connect wiht much. Oh I don't begrudge it, but I am strangely aware of how that seems to set up a kind of odd social boundary layer that is at times, forgive the pun, impenetrable. And it isnot cocks that penetrate here, but social connectivity. What ever tissue connects, whatever lube facilitates, that absence measn at least to me, you're either an innie or an outtie.
Of course, I've ALWAYS seen myself as an outtie, so that may well be my own long jaded attitude, the disbelief that this happens at all, speaking. As a Qualified Social Outcast (QSO) or so I have told myself so long, it makes sense that those who do or have are something other than those who do or have - I have to try and "other" them to prevent me from falling into the dark abyss. But fall I do.
Not as deep this time, but still... I had many moments of feeling like that same reject. That one who, no matter WHAT I mightsay or do, "faggeddaboutit" would be the reply to "I'd love to have some hot and heavy play"/.
Is all this really nothing more than "be like me"? Is it maybe a variant of "please pay attention to me because I am lonely"? Part of it, yes, but there ismore.
and part of that more is, I think, that absence of awareness around the whole mind-body-spirit connection I feel is SO important here. I liked the sessions that lloked to this connection, developed, allowed it. I enjoyed the cerebral as much, maybe in some ways more, than the play or other events. I certainyl gave myself over to the experience. I felt serious lust after some male bodies, certain energy flow for some female bodies. I recognized that even looking past my own self-reflection that holds me as villain, I rreally AM an amateur here, and that despite my seeing a few others (well, certainly 1 in particular) as a figure of both strong mind-body-spirit AND as a total hottie with whom I would have gladly begged for the chance to play seriously, that individual is simply leagues beyond my newbie-ness, and I think that what happens is that I characterize me as that useless newbie junk, and then place the other in an impossibly far away position, so I can AVOID the crush of "no" or even "later?".
I never got either wish. One I did not really expect. BUt it was hard not to even get a shot at the other, little more than "she is shy and needs to get to know people first." I'm what, chopped liver? I don't need that too? (Ok, part of that is likely to be the whole male thing as dominant de,anding assholes that we can be so much of the time, We do the raping, usually, after all, eh?) Oh well. I don't know how to cope with that part though. Do I rationalize it away? Do I simply say "Eh, no biggie, maybe next year". Do I return next year to find that spark of self confidence that lets me really feel, inside, that I am the person that can be desirable and, gasp, ASK??? Odd - as it appears that scant evidence demonstrates some measure of my being desirable. Why does that even MATTER?
I did manage to flaunt, comfortably, that female energy in me. And flow it did - at times overwhelming me in the raw energy. And even then, I was able to really feel the corresponding male energy flow - they run together, not much doubt there. And I do enjoy it.
and I take that home, a little, and can lightly flaunt that at work - no notices and gives fuck anyway. But less - a lot less - at home. Is that the sticking point? Do I "lack" such that all home interactions are flawed due to my feeling so unnoticed, unappreciated, unwanted? I do not know, really.
Enough for the moment. The growth is good.
NExt year: movement, dance. raw male energy on public display, willing female energy on public display and, maybe, ASKing. And fireplay and wax, for sure.
I did 5 workshops - all went well, I think. It was REALLY nice to get feedback from particpants that they really connected with the workshop idea and subject. I think that alone made all worth while. And it was my goal - I set out to do the best I could on all of them. that alone was the purpose of my going, I made it that way, and I think it paid off. I'm not famous, never will be in that regard, but it doesn't matter. I have the ability, I think, to offer to others something that they can understand and use to enrich themselves. That felt really really nice.
the mind-spirit-body connection seems weak there for me. I am not yet fully sure of how I see this, but it is there in a vague form now. For instances...
I did the long gbreathing workshop. It was pretty amazing. And after an hour, I realized a lot of my physical pain was simply gone - realy not there. Coincidence perhaps, but it matters little if the result is the same. I plan to try to master that method!
And I did the Sex Magic session. Revelations happen in interesting ways: "the lower back (chakra, I think she said) is connected to LACK". And yes, I am aware of feeling a lack of something. There is a strong sense of epihany here, but no really solid "WOW" with it.
Ironic - I give a session on asking for what you want,.... and I can't even do it myself. well, maybe not entirely true - I did ask - twice - and both granted. (Wait, the first was being asked, or perhaps "hinted: to, and then affirming, and then asking - once that ice was broken). The second was an outright "I would like..." - I will spare the details.
and then to hear I seemed, or was part of a scene, that was HOT, that I had a nice body - that is very alien turf for me.
But I think it is for many. How to really REALLY REALLY LET GO?
That, I think, is my next personl goal - really let go. I got damn close this time. Pounding, screaming, shouting, pumping, sweating - it was good. But there is more, deeper, more to let out to reveal, to display, to show. Is that what all this is? Public display? Not for all - some hide away.
Seems there is a kind of fuzzy division there: on ethe one hand there are those who clamber in to play, seriously, and enjoy that aspect of it. Some take that seriously, maybe too seriously. The other fuzzy side are those who come for no more reason than to indulge in the act of wanton fucking. That's the group I can't really seem to connect wiht much. Oh I don't begrudge it, but I am strangely aware of how that seems to set up a kind of odd social boundary layer that is at times, forgive the pun, impenetrable. And it isnot cocks that penetrate here, but social connectivity. What ever tissue connects, whatever lube facilitates, that absence measn at least to me, you're either an innie or an outtie.
Of course, I've ALWAYS seen myself as an outtie, so that may well be my own long jaded attitude, the disbelief that this happens at all, speaking. As a Qualified Social Outcast (QSO) or so I have told myself so long, it makes sense that those who do or have are something other than those who do or have - I have to try and "other" them to prevent me from falling into the dark abyss. But fall I do.
Not as deep this time, but still... I had many moments of feeling like that same reject. That one who, no matter WHAT I mightsay or do, "faggeddaboutit" would be the reply to "I'd love to have some hot and heavy play"/.
Is all this really nothing more than "be like me"? Is it maybe a variant of "please pay attention to me because I am lonely"? Part of it, yes, but there ismore.
and part of that more is, I think, that absence of awareness around the whole mind-body-spirit connection I feel is SO important here. I liked the sessions that lloked to this connection, developed, allowed it. I enjoyed the cerebral as much, maybe in some ways more, than the play or other events. I certainyl gave myself over to the experience. I felt serious lust after some male bodies, certain energy flow for some female bodies. I recognized that even looking past my own self-reflection that holds me as villain, I rreally AM an amateur here, and that despite my seeing a few others (well, certainly 1 in particular) as a figure of both strong mind-body-spirit AND as a total hottie with whom I would have gladly begged for the chance to play seriously, that individual is simply leagues beyond my newbie-ness, and I think that what happens is that I characterize me as that useless newbie junk, and then place the other in an impossibly far away position, so I can AVOID the crush of "no" or even "later?".
I never got either wish. One I did not really expect. BUt it was hard not to even get a shot at the other, little more than "she is shy and needs to get to know people first." I'm what, chopped liver? I don't need that too? (Ok, part of that is likely to be the whole male thing as dominant de,anding assholes that we can be so much of the time, We do the raping, usually, after all, eh?) Oh well. I don't know how to cope with that part though. Do I rationalize it away? Do I simply say "Eh, no biggie, maybe next year". Do I return next year to find that spark of self confidence that lets me really feel, inside, that I am the person that can be desirable and, gasp, ASK??? Odd - as it appears that scant evidence demonstrates some measure of my being desirable. Why does that even MATTER?
I did manage to flaunt, comfortably, that female energy in me. And flow it did - at times overwhelming me in the raw energy. And even then, I was able to really feel the corresponding male energy flow - they run together, not much doubt there. And I do enjoy it.
and I take that home, a little, and can lightly flaunt that at work - no notices and gives fuck anyway. But less - a lot less - at home. Is that the sticking point? Do I "lack" such that all home interactions are flawed due to my feeling so unnoticed, unappreciated, unwanted? I do not know, really.
Enough for the moment. The growth is good.
NExt year: movement, dance. raw male energy on public display, willing female energy on public display and, maybe, ASKing. And fireplay and wax, for sure.
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