I’m a dark dream.
I shine in spectrums felt more than seen. Sing with voice deep,
full of pain and promise.
Dance with abandon,
scream to the stars
and drink deeply from the hallows of the world.
I stand sentinel over the broken.
I am the solace of winter silence.
The fury of the storm.
I am the hush of sun’s slow dying.
I send you He Who Walks Between, He Who Watches.
I send you the dream of darkness turning.
The softness of storms ending.
The rush of Springs beginning.
Know this and know you are home
Author: Pelgris
Comes round
Trip and burn spinning down
Reflected time, intoxicated failure
Life and life and life until what passes for ordinary is laughable farce
Immediate becomes false start
Want to shed this skin
Become what was when what was was of use
This chai latte safe world
Pointedly pointless
A dream I can’t wake from
Thoughts on what passes for consent.
So, I just took a traipse through several blogs that were talking about consent in BDSM. I frankly found the content there frightening. Not just in what is considered consent: Outside of edge play, which not all are suited to despite their desires, the Dominant should not lose control. As the dominant, you should not allow yourself to be so taken in by whatever activity you are engaged in, that you edge into non-consent. There is a difference between play fear and real fear, and if you see real fear, then you need to call yellow yourself. You need to check, that consent is still given. You cannot just assume that once given it is given for the scene entire. Consent is not one and done. It is a continual affirmation that they are good to go. For some dominants, that is not what they want to hear. They want to hurt, to cause pain, and the thin veneer of initial consent is enough to get them to act. That is Sadism. Which itself is fine, within the strict limits of control. If you yourself, are unable to maintain that control then it may help to have a 3rd party present. To ref the action. If you so lose yourself, that you cannot determine consent from non-consent then that is a problem. Not insurmountable, but measures should be taken. Safe, Sane, and Consensual. It is not just a catchphrase. I take safety and Consent very seriously. And I check to see that my actions at least are sane. You cannot be engaged in dangerous play of any kind without rules. That is in play as much for BDSM as it is for knife fighting, or blood play, or underground fighting. Rules are made and enforced to keep us all safe. And keep a nurse or doctor on hand if possible, I’m not saying that non-consent cannot be roleplayed. I’m saying that as the dominant, you do not get a free ride to do whatever the hell you want. you must be aware at all times. I know a few who are dipping their toes into the life. And I am genuinely afraid for them, the wrong top or master and it could ruin the experience. I have been called too safe. Too in control. Perhaps. But I have seen the results of the other way.
On waking
Dance with me among the pines
Drink from the golden cup
All my enemies are now thine
And all my allies too
Eat with me this leaven bread
Drink with me this wine
All fears and sorrows have now fled
Before the graceful hart
Dance with us
Kindred and kine
Bound and boundary
Between Breathe and rime
Sing to us our joining
All bravely made
All dreams defied
But dreams must end
‘Ere memories fled
But, In our wake
Wisdom bind
To dream within a dream
Slice
What sympathy of transgression
Or mortal words
Or callous rime
In fear, in symbolitry
A solipsistic jaunt
Turn, but turn, but turn
Turn and be found
So spoke, so dreamed
Found cradle
The bright lights seethe
Cauldron bound
Chaos demonstrates it’s order
Slip on by
Ozone
Sift me from sand
Grain by grain, paint my picture
Line and curve
Stitch and blow
Until I stand complete
Awaiting the storm
On happiness and beauty
We all deserve a little happiness, so let what makes you happy consume you once in awhile.
What makes me happy is the transitory nature of beauty and the ephemeral quality of performed art. Sounds pretentious, I know. What I mean is that beauty shifts and changes as we the perceiver change This change, allows us to change as we see ourselves through this outside lens and in seeing are changed by the experience.
As to the ephemeral quality of performed art. Well, no two performance is the same, each one is a unique experience, each a microcosm of itself and a connection to each other person that experiences this with you. These feelings of connection can allow us the space to embrace our humanity. To see, for a moment, in the shared experience, community.
Further, those that share the experience are forever linked. Even that little bit of connection weaves us into the tapestry of the world.
Take some time to do what makes you happy, and remember to share your passion, your joy. Maybe you are someone’s transitory beauty. Maybe it’s your ideas or your smile. We make this world with ourselves, out of our lives and that is beauty.
To PAX keynote speakers
This is to all the keynote and storytime speakers at PAX Prime and I imagine the other PAX as well, but I have no direct experience.
Please, stop talking about your new game or game design, or the particulars of the industry. I know you are given free reign to talk about whatever, but think of the experience you are giving those around you. PAX isn’t a tech conference or a board meeting, it isn’t PAX dev. The majority of Pax goers are enthusiasts not industry insiders. You are setting the tone for the experience.
If I may offer some advice, talk about who you are and why you are. Talk about the culture of the industry, the stories of the inside. Talk about your past, your dreams, your future and where you see games going as culture. Talk about community.
This is why we come to PAX. It is not only to see the new hotness. It is for that sense of community, of being part of something larger. Of knowing we’re not alone. I talk about PAX to many people and for all of the perceived size of it from inside, most people I talk to have no idea what it is.
Most often people say “oh, it’s like comicon”. And I reply “kinda”. But most Comicon, SDCC and others, are about the thing. The new hotness, the new comic, the new new. PAX is about the community that grew up around the thing. It is about the shared experience. The games provide a template, a experience. But it’s the community and friendships that rise from these experiences that matter. That last.
So, they want you to speak as keynote. That is great. We like you already. Share the experience with us, don’t sell us something.
Worries
The last time I felt as full of nothing was in the dark times after I lost Sara. I don’t know where or why I feel this way. I don’t understand it.
I worry that I’m losing myself again. That this sojourn into open, honest emotion is somehow coming to a close.
I worry that I will find who I’m looking for. That I’ll be disappointed when I do.
I worry that I’ll fight for someone and do us both a disservice.
I worry that I’m sacrificing pieces of myself to write. That I take more validation from people liking my work than I do in the work itself.
I worry that if I do find someone to share my life with, I’ll fuck it up.
I worry that my obvious deficiencies are why, despite looking and trying, I’m still alone.
I worry that Sara was my one chance and by not going with her that night, I failed her. I failed us. And my not finding any lasting relationship is my just punishment for my inaction.
I worry about how I’m perceived and am hurt when people see me as other than I intend.
I worry that my need for control is becoming destructive.
I worry that my desire for chaos is a sign of a lack of empathy.
I worry about my lack of guilt.
I worry that I’m drifting away from a real friend.
I worry about all of this and more.
I’m not constant in my worry, I let my subconscious handle most of it. But it’s all there, swirling in the background, even if I don’t act like it. It sits, leaden in my brain.
It’s why I occasionally wake, heart racing from a panic attack. Deep unconscious being one of the few times I’m out of control. Some of this, I just don’t have the strength to carry. And I’m approaching a time when something will either break or some of it will fall away. And I worry what I’ll lose this time.
The blade is quenched
When only silence reigns
And blade long slept tend
When time passes bitter
And those long dead rise bidden
Does blade and purpose mend
Silence is the edge
Swept clear of tired path
When winter cuts
And storm does wake
So is purpose borne
So is life rebought
In form, for power
Wrought
Pushed aside young light
For you have called
And I have come
