This was a Joy division Song covered by an artist I no longer endorse in any way; Sorry Goddess of my Heart…In any case You know how I felt and still feel about you.
Month: March 2017
Song of the Day
A thing of silences
I must let her slip away
My dream who woke me
Who wanted me
Who craved me
Testing my desire to stay with her desire to break free
Testing my resolve with her silence
Teasing me forward with hints of answers but instead few syllables met with incredulity when questioned.
Can you gaslight yourself by questioning what you’ve done to push away perfection
Because she’s not talking
Rationing her words like the last drops of water in the sun, hot enough to cook with, more than enough to burn
But you need her words, just a few to hold you over, a junky accepting methadone after the heady days of heroin
Am I cold turkey
Or in another silence brought on by past actions, explained and payed for a hundred times over
Made to pay again by your silence
Accepted but rejected when the truth of who I was is revealed, the catalyst to who I became. A man you said…but wait…
Said Loving you, but not I love you, somehow almost but not quite and I accepted this partial as the whole
So broken to pieces and wanting you to piece me together that I took in “loving you” like the first blush of autumn and was reborn in a statement I may have read wrong because silence can’t clarify or won’t
Bereft of finality and hoping for epiphany, not mine but yours to wake And see but only dreamers still, boldly dancing but all in bespelled silence
Denied a yes or a no or I’m thinking or let’s talk about it or you are wrong or I never meant I love you or how could I ever want you or this was a fun game to play with a heart so open or goodbye
Just wrapped in a cacophony of silence
Lost in the world without words
Without hope
Without dreams
Lost
Waiting for the silence
To break
Dream underground
Yesterday I was eating lunch on a terrace garden with people who felt like they were from work but I didn’t recognize them. My friend Reese came by for some reason and I escorted him under my workplace to some kind of underground labyrinth. There was a sand pit filled with tiny snakes, a room that didn’t look like anything that had a spiral staircase leading down. My friend remarked that this place seemed normal. I looked over my shoulder to a guy I know from work, RJ, and say that’s because RJ has the master key to turn the traps off.
In this room you normally have to weave past poison darts shooting out of the walls.
I felt uneasy like it was the presence of RJ and not a key that kept us safe. Like he was the key. We wandered down into a underground gallery with columns and flying buttress’. It was all empty but like the walls were holding something back.
I haven’t been able to shake that dream for 2 days
Song of the Day
Too soon for love?
I see the spark of you
The hidden piece shining brightly
Pulsing with energetic light
This piece of life
It casts itself over all that you are
How can I see this and not fall a bit in love?
Am I to hide my feelings because they emerge before you are ready to hear them?
Am I to cringe back and deny what I see because I cry out to the heavens and this makes you uncomfortable?
I love the you that you are, as you are.
Am I to hide that behind like and lust?
It’s too soon they say.
But they don’t see what I see.
You are right, it’s too soon to know the totality of you.
But too soon to see enough to love?
To embrace discovery and beauty?
Why live that way?
Hiding, hoping not to get hurt.
I’d be lying if I said that my love has not destroyed me, crippled me.
But through destruction, we grow.
Through pain we are forged.
And at the end of it all, better to break for love than it’s lack.
What was may be
A Shiver crawls along
bending the soft hair
calling to the dance
a rhythm of crimson light
pulsing
…pulsing
pressure building
syllable by syllable
waking mind from slumber
..stretch muscles pulling skin
taut against soft pad of fingertips
windows peer
blue and binding
…or slip away into dust
Song of the Day
this seemed appropriate: More for the sentiment of not being who you were
Morgan
I have mentioned Morgan in several posts. And prior to 2016, I used the name Sara for her. Because I was not ready to say her name publicly. Because if I said her name publicly it would all be real. You may understand at the end of this.
I met Morgan in November of 2001. It’s odd to think about because I always say that I was with her for 3 years but really it was almost 4.
I was at a Goth night at The Nile Theater. Sometimes the Nile had Rave music and if I was feeling social I would drive out and see what was happening there. This night it was Goth. I listened to The Cure, Depeche Mode, Bauhaus, Black Tape For a Blue Girl, etc. But I listen to Everything. And I wanted to lose myself in Trance or House. But this night it was Goth and I decided fuck it. I paid my cover and went in.
The Nile was always Dark which is a good thing because with the lights on it was kinda depressing. I’d been here for the after party of The Rocky Horror Picture show many times in high school and this is the type of music playing so I guess I’d been here before. You may notice I’m giving a bunch of superfluous details. This is hard. Bear with me.
I was dancing. Now when I say dancing, I mean moving my body to the beat while using my arms and hands to show the counterpoint. Nothing formal or likely cool looking. Passionate but not attractive. So I’m dancing and I get thirsty and I get a 3$ water, because if you are not overcharging for drinks then you are not running a venue. I’m leaning against a wall and a girl, a woman really comes up to me. She smiles and says, “Wanna Dance?” I say “Sure.”
This is out of character for me. I generally keep to myself even in a crowd. I’d like to say that there was something about her that I noticed right away but it was dark and I was going back out to dance anyway. We danced for an hour or so and then she said she had to go. I was going to shrug and say goodbye. Yes, I have always been dense in this regard. Then she asked if I wanted to get some breakfast. It was about Midnight. I said sure, I had been Dancing for hours and was sweaty and why not. We head out together.
In the full light of the city lights I see her for the first time. She was beautiful. About 5’10 tall enough to kiss easily , but she still had to look up at me when we were close. There is something amazing to have someone attractive looking up at you. She had long black hair but you could see the dark brown roots just at the base of her scalp. Her eyes were green. But not always, they changed with her mood. Darker when passionate, flashing when angry, light when calm. Amazing. Her skin was the color of milk. Not ash white but creamy almost rich.
She grabbed my hand and skipped to her car. Something sporty, I can’t remember the make and yes that’s going to bother me. She unlocked and opened my door which I thought was sweet. Later, not then. Then I was still oblivious. We went to the 5 and Diner on 16th Street. It’s a 50s themed Diner that serves breakfast and is open 24 hours a day. I had pancakes and she had a waffle. She was funny and had this cute throaty laugh you just wanted to swim in. I have no idea what she saw in me. We talked about books we’d read and movies we liked. We talked philosophy and she had an opinion about blades. She liked Big Trouble in Little China. We went back to her place. She had a really nice apartment decorated very modern Goth. We ended up talking some more and on her black leather couch, yes I remember the couch, she kissed me. Looking back its like duh but I’ve said before I’m kinda oblivious.
She seduced me and we had sex the first night we met. But we liked each other before we ever made it to the bedroom.
After that, I spent as much time as her schedule would allow. And mine too.
This part is sketchy. I was running a group that ran tiger teams and less white hat stuff. Mostly legal but some gray area stuff that wasn’t illegal because there were no laws concerning it. I’d been doing this for about 3 years. It was risky but fun and profitable. Morgan worked for a Financial group. And was pretty successful.
My life up to that point had been one of secrets. One truth for family, one for friends.
I know, sketchy. I told Morgan the truth and she hated me risking life and freedom for money. And I had a offer for a entry level corporate gig through family.
So I shuttered the group and took the gig. Being around for Morgan was more important than this thing I had been building.
Segue:
Morgan was a Submissive and a Pain Slut(not derogatory, a phrase of art). She wasn’t in her life but in her play she was and I had some tendencies in Control that she Fostered. I was taught to be a Master by a Submissive. Not the normal path.
I loved her and I enjoyed what we did. We got deeper and deeper into the life but they were her friends and her people. I think they saw me as her latest conquest but I lasted.
I planned on being with her forever. She was my brightest day, I was her Darkest night. I called her my Morrigan and she called me Sir. But I was still learning.
One day in September we had plans to work with a Top who was going to teach me to use the single tail long whip. Think Indiana Jones and you wouldn’t be far wrong. I was being pissy and reluctant to go. I did not want to risk Morgan like that but I didn’t say that. I forbid her to go. Morgan was pissed. We had picked this guy, vetted this guy through friends and she wanted to be whipped. We had a fight. It lasted for hours. If anyone ever tells you that Submissives just accept Masters orders don’t believe them. Run. They have no idea what they are talking about.
Finally, I said, if you want to go then go. She went. I cranked the music up in the apartment and stewed.
It got late. She missed her check in. Yes, we had safety protocol for stuff. I got worried and drove over to the guys house, which I now know was rented under a false identity.
It was dark and the front door was open. Golden light spilled out into the night.
I ran in.
Morgan was dangling from a makeshift pillory. Bound at the wrist. Unconscious. Her back was a eruption of blood. I ran to her and cut her down. I was scared and filled with RAGE. I couldn’t think beyond the next step. I called a private doctor with his own ambulance service, I knew him from before. I had his number drilled into me so that’s who I called.
While we were waiting I cleaned Morgan up and held her. At some point she stopped breathing. I fumbled through the CPR that I had taken and she started breathing. I don’t know if it was actually like this but she started breathing and the doc and emt arrived. We got her onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. I was riding with her. Somewhere on the ride to the doctors operating suite she stopped breathing. They couldn’t get her to start breathing. She died at 3am on September 19th. She died inches from me. I should have been there. I should have gone. She never woke up.
The guy? We didn’t report it. I was all over the scene. The guy was long gone. I called a private ambulance rather than Emergency services. There was no way that didn’t blow back on me. And I wanted to handle it on my own. So we cleaned up the scene. We got Morgan’s parents involved. They were scandal averse let’s say. They cleaned it up with the authorities and shut me out. I guess I can’t really blame them.
The guy didn’t get away. It took years and all of the money I had squirreled away but they found him.
Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies.
I wouldn’t bother looking for evidence of all of this. We were good at what we did. Believe me, don’t believe me. I’ve told this often enough to one degree or another to know that I’ll be met with incredulity. But whatever it’s my life.
I’m not that man anymore. I hope I’m better and I watch over my people better. I hope I don’t lose the people important to me over this. But I understand if I do.
It’s springtime again
Yup, I hate spring. It is the low point of my year. The lowest point of any year. Winter solstice is bad enough. At least there winter is at the height of its powers. Spring equinox and its all downhill. 3 months of low ebb. I quote the great man when I say “Buggerit, millennium hand and shrimp!”
