Author: Pelgris
Too tired for laughter
Waiting for the hammer fall
Anxiety cripples
Stress piled on stress makes mistakes
And each mistake feeds the certainty that job loss is around the corner
In a economy not hiring
Isolation becomes depression
Sleeping all the time
Uncomfortable in my own skin
Wanting extended conversations about nothing
About everything
White noise
Heavy heart
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Slowly building rant
I want to say that we’re all in this together and that we’ll get through it together
But I find my faith in humanity has faded
As my contact with those people who make existence worth living has also faded
As the pure loneliness caves in my walls
I find myself seeing the self delusion for the bare knuckle fear it is
I see the desire to categorize people as other
To separate and in separation create the cult atmosphere of us vs them
I see the herd mentality breaking systems which were never envisioned to sustain assault by the herd
I see greed eat philosophy so much that the philosophers give up on philosophy
Instead calling out the hypocrisy of cloaks of gold draped over “common man”
I see rebellion fomenting but leaderless and rudderless
Just a stampede waiting to break
I see people living for a past that never existed
Yearning for a truth that was always built on a lie
Prosperity begins at the bottom not the peak
You ask me to drink from some stream you dammed
Calling it trickle down
While you swim in your lake
Too much for you to ever use
Too much even for you to invest in people and ideas
So much that even if spend every waking moment finding worthy causes, you still accrue more wealth than you spend
How then am I to ever get my fill?
If all I get is your scraps
This delusion that you will someday be rich so you safeguard the wealthy is directly making us poor
Burning our infrastructure for profits
Voting for less say in our own prosperity in the hope that those greedy enough to take more than they will ever need will share that prosperity with us
Delusion upon delusion
I once thought that in humanity there was hope
That the craven depths were outweighed by the glorious heights
That the predominance went to beauty
Instead
Sold to whomever promises magic beans to be delivered at some vague future date
And not today’s magic beans but from when magic beans were great
We’re making magic beans great again
Don’t you believe me?
I’ve got hats
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Quarantine music
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The portrayal of BDSM is broken
Why is BDSM presented as a thing of violence?
I don’t understand that. It has never been my experience that I felt violent. I’ve felt control. Like a violin string stretched taught and vibrating with tension. But it’s a tension not waiting for violence, but for action. Yes, sometimes that action is one of force. Of the infliction of pain. But never against the desire of my partner. My treasure. My submissive.
Submission is an act of trust and love. Dominance is an act of trust and love. That it presents as violence is gross misrepresentation. The feeling I have when my submissive says Yes Sir. Or just uses my name, if in public. That feeling has nothing to do with violence. Yes, it’s ownership. But they own me equally. They give me their submission. A greater gift cannot be made. I give them my control and bend my every action to make them safe and joyous. Whatever form that joy and desire takes.
BDSM is NOT violence. If it ever is, then it is abuse.
I cannot emphasize that enough. It makes me feel sick to think that people are hurting others in the guise of BDSM. Even when it’s just play and not lifestyle, it is still based on trust and pleasure and consent.
It drives me crazy.
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Missing from the page
Working from home and staying inside fucked with my head. I thought yesterday was Thursday all day. Which resulted in me not posting.
Everything is stressful and those things which used to be recreational are now mandatory. I’m isolated and it’s killing me. Emotionally and mentally. Not physically. I spend most of my time working or sleeping. I’m only eating 2 times a day if that and not even snacking.
The stress I thought I had handled ratcheted up last week when my employer fired not furloughed people like it promised. Now I and everyone are just waiting for the blade to drop.
There nothing I can do that I’m not already doing and being helpless is not my strong suit.
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Musings of the Mind
I get the privilege of being wired differently. Each experience I have is encapsulated as it’s own individual thing. Each interaction exists independent of other interactions.
This is a result of both how my mind works and how I have constructed my memory. I say constructed because while my memory semi does this already, I have consciously created a subconscious memory palace. It’s not as efficient as a conscious memory palace where one can place a memory and retrieve it with ease. It does, however, have advantages. Instead of distinct edges which separate, my method allows for a fuzziness. This fuzziness allows connection points to other data as well as non-physical datum. In other words it allows me to include emotions. It also allow me to, in conjunction with my creative ability, Take the data point and set it spinning.
By which I mean, I can extrapolate possibilities and probabilities. However, unlike some Patrick Jane or Sherlock Holmsian connection puzzle, my method takes time. Specifically, it takes sleep or quite meditation.
Now, how is this an advantage? Simply put, each interaction, can be isolated and while it is an integrated part of my whole, it is also distinct. Which means that instead of feeling anxiety during Teleconference because of it’s association with work or with meetings, I can feel the moment without the baggage of similar moments. I can enjoy a meal or a conversation without the burden of past meals or conversations and only in hindsight can I compare it.
I wish I could teach others how to do something similar. I can only think that it may be useful. But I have been unable to. I can give the tools I use. But that is not the spark of it. I can tell you what I do, what it feels like to me, but until that moment of epiphany which occurs again and again to become a method…it cannot take hold. How does one give the experience of joy exactly as you feel it?
You cannot, you can only give them the path. And allow them the space of their journey. And fight the inclination to tell them of blind alleys. Of what is possible and not. Because what was possible for you, what was dangerous to you, may not be to them. May indeed be the spark needed to ignite their journey.
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Civilization blinks, breaks, like dust, gone
We stand as trees
Proud and varied
Close but still breathing
Still strong
Nestled in our branches the edifice above
Creaks and groans
Held above by log and lies
Blood coagulated
The soft peace of a life without struggle
Ok is good enough
Grows heavier
Boughs break
Weight settles
The sky breaks through
Around us
Once tall and safe
Lay stumps
Shifting shivers bark
Fear begins to sway
Waiting for our turn
Waiting to break
To burn
Or merely to fade
As hope fails
As last light
Which
New found
Now fades
And into the unknown
We proud
We strong
Roots deep
Shiver in fear
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Partially healed, all scabs
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A hug may be required, but not yet
All relationships are hard. They require a personal commitment to another person to be available to that person. To talk, not just when it’s convenient. To think of others who are important to you even if circumstances change and you aren’t able to be by their side.
And that’s difficult. It requires making the conscious choice to take time out and use it to maintain your relationship. I’m not always great about that. I’m aware of it and I try to work against my impulse to isolate and hurt instead of addressing the problem.
And in these times where isolation is literal life and death, it behooves us to use the technology we have to reach out and maintain those relationships. What are we fighting for if not each other?
Pelgris 