Secondary definition 

I say always and
You say That’s sweet
I say always and
You sigh happily
I say always and
You smile and duck your eyes
I say always and
You say I love you
I say always and
You say not ready
I say always and
You say not now
I say always and
You say goodbye
I say always and
There is only silence
I say always

Always wasn’t a promise
Always wasn’t an endearment
Always wasn’t romance

It was a warning
A cry
A bell chiming

It was the deep silence in the winter dawn
It was the quiet hush of a summer afternoon
It was the deep and abiding melancholy of 2am

It was a plea
Of understanding
That some people
Never forget
That there is nothing so fundamentaly luxurious
As the fading light of memory

And here I stand
Saying
Always

Weird brain shit

If I’m confident in a situation then I’m utterly comfortable and I will be kind and playful. Loving and caring.
If I encounter something I don’t understand or something I hadn’t foreseen, I will go completely analytical. I will ask questions that will make me seem like I’m being oblivious. I will try to hash out my own feelings and fears because I don’t understand what is happening, not in the moment.

I think it’s probable that I don’t have a high EQ. Just that I’ve encountered many prior situations and I’ve already worked the scenarios and I have contingency behaviors for my contingency behaviors. Which may make me seem weird right? I see that. What I am is a INTJ that is sufficiently self aware that I know why and what I’m doing.
Not that it helps me much in the moment.

I have to have things explained to me. Once I know then I’ll start looking for the situations and try to have plans in place to handle things. And I’ll try to not make the same mistake. But I’ll make others.
Contingency planning only goes so far.

We see with hearts wide open-3

Surrounded by hearts in mending
Gold seams in broken veins
Pain and pleasure in the taking
But gathered her gently
Woken him fiercely
And all of us joined
In laughter, in lust, in desire
And compromise
All truths spoken and laid bare
Emotions riding the air
Love seeking and binding
A hope everlasting

We wake to the pleasure of our hearts-1

There are times where I must consider myself a beast
To desire to obliterate your self to satisfy my need for your pleasure
That you desire this as well gives me pause
Because I must consider myself your champion
A dark soul, a brightly burning messenger of the night
But yours
Not as a blade because this is not your necessity
But your tormentor
Your jailer
Your lover
Your protector
I must consider the line to walk between the obliteration of the self into a object of control and service and lust
And my ability to bring you back from that brink
And whispers sweet somethings
Engage in passion behind mere pleasure
And sit reading a book aloud for storytime
You are a joy I never thought would be

My nightmare, my hell

Just woke up from a nightmare, my kind of nightmare, no maniacs or feelings of dread or anything. I have tripwires are the best way to describe it that will wake me to lucid dreaming if those happen.
This was at a vast mansion party. It was filled with debauchery which I’m normally fine with but there was a pervasive understanding that the people were being forced to participate. There were women wearing heavy chain collars described as soul mates of the person they were with who were forced to perform sexual acts on people other than their desire at the urging of their so called mates and both had hollow eyes empty of desire and this element of silent pleading.

All around broken people perverted love to satisfy physical lust. There was no passion or desire just the physical moment of release without any emotional connection. Anyone in one of the heavy chain collars was meat for the feast. These were all the so-called soul mates of others who had enslaved them and destroyed their will to the point where this was accepted. But there was no joy in it.

This is what the general public views BDSM as. This breaking of the will and using of others for pure physical release. And it is a perversion of all that I’ve enjoyed in the lifestyle. Of everything that I am.

There was no love there. No joy. No pleasure. No consent. Just destruction of sacred bonds and me, a ghost at the feast.

I couldn’t act. Couldn’t stop it, couldn’t twist the dream. I was awake enough to remember. Awake enough to be aware but not awake enough even to save those people.

It was a nightmare. To me, a living hell. A perversion of everything I’ve ever stood for or tried to convey. Sex disguised as love and rotting at the root of those involved. Destroying their ability to see and love. To see love as something other than this fear and destruction. And any that break free of this, few as there was the sense that the only freedom offered was death, there was only isolation and despair. The bedrock belief that none could love them after this experience.

It was a nightmare of epic proportion to me. I wish I could say that I woke of my own volition. But it felt like I was released.

Now, I want to find that dreamscape lucid and burn it down. Even as a dreamscape it is fundamentally wrong. And I can’t allow it to exist. Which may sound like madness. But I’m a dream walker. And it may be madness but, sadly, that doesn’t make it less real.

I have to confront the dream to make myself sane. To not allow the fear of that place win.