Author: Pelgris

Dreams

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I had an interesting dream. It was just me and a bunch of acquaintances and friends rolling around a city in the midnight hour. We were rolling twenty deep.

My friend ‘3’, invited us to a boxing match. Where she would be boxing. That is what they called it. When we arrived, we got drinks. I got a whiskey sour (Jack). We are standing around waiting for the match and out comes 3.

She is announced as one of the boxers and she runs/skips over to someone out of the corner of my eye. She kisses this leather chick passionately and the crowd applauds. Not because it’s 2 women kissing but because passion should be celebrated.

They bring out the other boxer and they say that 3 and this woman met in a chat room on fetlife called Three strands of Leather. (oddly specific for a dream, especially since it is not a forum/room I’m familiar with). Then this boxing match becomes some very light flogging, and general fetish play.

Almost a peice of performance art rather than in earnest. At one point I am sitting on a couch, with my shoes off in this seedy venue and the other woman sits down and pushes her back to my socked feet. She presses against them as 3 floggs her breasts with this small three inch strand black leather flogger. I liked that but was generally unimpressed with the display.

It seemed to take one of my passions and belittle it. I wanted to take over, take control but instead I settled for being a jaded audience member. Then it was over and two furries took the floor. One dressed in a cow costume and one dressed as a silver fox. The fox mounted the cow. It was a thing but the dream lost focus and I went back to a more standard, can’t find my phone, I’m looking for it everywhere thing.

Momentum

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why these steps into uncertain future to know another,

to know their mind to be afraid not of your actions but of theirs, or by your inaction due to uncertainty, you false step can you false step,

It’s like wearing thick socks and stepping on broken glass.

You hope that the minimal precaution you have taken will allow you to come away, as free from cuts as possible.

But how can you know. Just the slow step, then another, and another. The small cuts, the shredded cloth.

It has seldom been my actions that make me afraid, it is always the uncertain horizon. The actions of others.

My hope, in all its falseness, leads me forward.

Caution allows you to retain gains, but risk allows you to advance those gains.

Life is the balancing act between the two.

So my resolve is to act, small steps.

To breathe and reap the storm.

Angel is another word for slave

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Oh hark, comes an angel
Her wings are tattered from her fall
She moves with hidden grace
Her voice that once trumpeted clarion call “To arms! To arms!”

He comes alone
all fail and fell
Wearing a cloak of night
His voice, the storm
Speaks words not meant for mortal tongue and burst the gates of heaven

He’s here, he’s here
the choirs whisper, filling the streets
But no orders given, though air still rings with her call

“I come. I come with warning.
I come to tell you of your fate.
You who cower now
We come. We come.
We will not tolerate.
Your brimstone hells, your fiery scourge,
your serenity, your rest.
Stay behind your walls.
Stay out of the affairs of mortal realms or face the Armageddon you promised in glee.
But this time with other enemy.
No choreography, no fated win.
Just armies at the ready. Tired of your fearful dance.”

The angel at the gates. All dutifully reports, this dire pronunciation. And suffers fate of all messengers.

She falls, she falls.

Oh hark, comes an angel
Her wings are tattered from her fall
She moves with hidden grace
Her voice that once trumpeted clarion call

And he who offered warning dire
Now, offers choice where once was none.

“I apologize for your treatment. I apologize for the need. If you so desire, you may follow me. We have no shining cities. We have no trumpets sound. We can only offer purpose. We can only offer strife. But stand with us and our backs will never turn. We are bound by honor, bound by purpose, bound by truth. Our generals fight by our side and safeguard humanity’s hope. With us you may choose.”

Thoughts on sanity within the magical community

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Sanity as mainstream society defines it is a useless vestigial tail. Our world’s are increasingly internal and are acted on with others when consensual meaning is required. We must, perforce, define our realities in ways that work with our strengths and account for our flaws. We must then cloak these realities in mirrors so that the society at large looks on us and sees only it’s reflection. In this way, we will be free to persue our own goals and move amongst the less awakened members of our flawed and fallen race with virtual impunity. We must be aware that being caught will result in being ‘helped’. The majority of this help will take the form of tagging us as other, making it harder to blend into the larger society. And actions to convince us that their perceptive reality is the only one, usually through coercive mental conditioning or through so called drug therapy that closes off our access to those senses that allow us to see beyond the reality of the physical.

Sleep

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I sleep alone, space carved in my heart, in my posture for you. I wait, perhaps forever, but I wait.  Knowing you are worth every tear.  Every pain.  And only hope my choice does not add to your pains

Thoughts on debt as societal currency

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I wonder why, on acceptance by some group or another, people feel the need to thank them for it. To thank them for inclusion.

For myself, I may apply for acceptance, but that is as far as I will go. You will include me or not as you choose but I am no fawning sycophant, to bow and scrape because you deign to acknowledge me.

I set the tone, I start the dance, I stand tall included or not. I do not bow or grovel for your acceptance.

Perhaps you consider it polite. However, as a societal gesture, the thank you for inclusion is one of subservience.

I ask, you allow and we walk as equals.

I ask, you allow, I thank you for the privilege and I have have setup a subtext that I needed your permission.

I may act as a guest should, on acceptance, but to allow the power dynamic to subtly shift without acknowledging that it has, is foolish. By thanking them, you are acknowledging a debt, however slight.

Debts are treacherous things. Sometimes, you want to be in someone’s debt. Because as long as you are, as long as the marker is not called in, they have a vested interest in your wellbeing. At least, insomuch, as calling in the marker fits into future plans or as a safety net. But, In debt to one who refuses to be repaid and you are on treacherous ground.

Of course, this presupposes that you, at least, are honorable and acknowledge and accept your debts. As a honorable person, I am always looking at the scales to determine where honorable action to move towards balance lays.

The only exception is in the case of those I love. Who, in effect, I owe and am owed infinity. There is no action I won’t take for someone I love. The only determining factor is, is it the correct action in that moment.

I want…

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The soft gentle press of your lips
The touch of your hands
My hands through your hair
The gentle curve of your neck
The soft mound of your breast
The hairs on your arm shivering
the taste of you on my tongue
The smell of you lingering in my nostrils
Your moans
Your breathe catches
Your exhilaration
Your pleasure at my mercy
Your dirty mind
Your sweet dreams
Your desires fulfilled
Your hungers satisfied
Your screams of my name

You

Emotional shotgun

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I’ve thought about this often.  Pretty much every day to one degree or another. and I have come to the conclusion that I am just not charming. Sure, if you want to talk about the historical context of economic policies and the spread of religion, I’m your guy. Or if you would like a discussion about how time travel to kill that one historically bad guy would be a disaster, then wow would we have something to talk about.  If you want to get deep into serious discussion, I’m right there.  Or take a silly premise and just run with it.  But that whole witty banter thing, I don’t got. In a big group it may seem that I can, because I’ll interject something and it will cut to the heart of what is being discussed, but pay attention, I will then go silent again. So, I’m not charming. I have weird ideas and off tilt desires. I have virtually no shame and no filter but I’ll only dance in a crowd of strangers or after at least 3 real drinks. I’m not doing a job that screams important or changing the world, so that’s not particularly impressive. Maybe, I’m being unnecessarily cruel to my own self image. The tough part is that what seems unique and special about me seems to only exist in my past. And it is bound up in past relationships which new relationships don’t necessarily want to hear about. I’m off point.

What I think about is this: Shouldn’t it, on some level, be easy? Should not the conversation flow from topic to topic? If you’ve known me for years, then it does. But on first talking? First meeting? Only with 2 people has it been that way, One was recent but for various other reasons failed. The other was because she approached me, she saw me and said, that guy, that guys I want to know. That feeling is immensely empowering, I could go for days on that feeling. I have no real point to this. This is just a confused guy rambling in the early morning hours. I wish that I could say that I just don’t know what I want, or that I’m not ready for a relationship, or I just want to put my work first, or any of a dozen excuses to not be dating or to not even be talking to someone about talking about dating. (aside: Dating is a prelude to a relationship. It is the opening act.) (second aside: I cannot emphasize enough how the statement “I don’t date” is bullshit. Are you seeing someone in any kind of romantic or sexual context?  IT’S A DATE.  and don’t tell me that sex is not a date,  unless you are paying for it, then it’s a emotional entanglement of some kind.)

It comes to my attention that I should be talking to friends about this stuff,  but they are all married.  Have been for years. And they are not poly relationships so what would they know?  Maintaining a relationship, sure,  they have good advice there, outside of that, not so much.

This is all just frustration.  I am genuinely not good at the let’s be friends and see where it goes thing. I want to buy you roses or lilies, lilies are cool. I want to tell you that you are beautiful and that all I want is you to feel safe. I want to be the sappy romantic idiot that I am . But I can’t because that would be too serious.  What is wrong with too serious?  Take a fucking chance. We all have baggage, and I get that it hurts and that you don’t want to be hurt.  And maybe you want nothing to do with me romantically, say that,  it saves time.  I won’t be offended. I am a adult.  I know people say that then act like fools,  but I have spent most of my time working on who I am, what I want, and my emotional well being.  That leaves me deficient in the more material ares, admittedly,  But the emotional maturity, that I got.  Just tell me, I won’t be a jerk.

And maybe it won’t work out. But I won’t emotionally blackmail you or be a jerk or be cruel or mean. at least I will try my best to not be and if you tell me I am being that way will try to correct my behavior.  Hopefully, we’ll have at least some good times, and we’ll learn something for the next relationship or maybe we’ll go the distance,  but we’ll never know without that first step.

This has been another addition of Emotional shotgun, are we not entertained!