Bit of a nerd

drop ice cubes in a warm drink and think, “Let the heat Transfer begin.”

Look at the rustle of thousands of leaves and while entranced by the beauty, also wonder about a fluid dynamics equation that could be used to potentially map how those leaves move

Someone says First world problems and hears me say, Poverty is a first world problem (thinking in my head, it’s a matter of scale). Waiting, hopefully, for an answer haven’t heard before. But hear a common answer about redistribution of wealth, ask the followup of how to minimize graft in the bureaucratic algae bloom such systems create, hope for a new answer.

want real answers to these questions, because the discussion is interesting.

like talking to people who don’t have talking points jammed into their brains but political entertainment.

Real talk. Nerd talk. What are you passionate about? What drives you? Talk to me about your favorite anime and why it harkens back to some obscure historical fiction.

Talk about what you love, what you like, what you want, what you hope, what makes you think, what makes you happy, what makes you sad, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry.

Sprinkle in a bit of your past if you want to.
But the nebulae of all of it is who you are. Let me see it. Sit in the same room and text it if that’s how we are most comfortable. Or across the room, just want to look up and be able to smile and see you. Or see the tear and comfort you.

Small talk kills me.

Nightmares are also dreams: A Pel and Sara story: Part 2: Sara

The office is warmly lit by recessed lights along the wainscoting. A mosaic of wood tiling depicting a woodland scene, the knots placed around to seem like eyes of a predator looking down, adorns the ceiling. It’s the one concession I made to Pel’s ascetic. The rest is ultra modern chic. Curved lines and bright colors. Chrome fixtures and elaborate chairs. All made to be a bit jarring to the senses. For when a client wants to complain about how their portfolio is doing and I really don’t want to talk for long. This room will make you uneasy. Not uncomfortable, the chairs and lighting is comfortable but everything else just feels subtly off. Pel calls it the paranoia room. Everyone who leaves it has a almost panicked relief when they exit. He says his security team likes to place bets on who looks the most scared. There’s not much sympathy for multimillionaire’s and their stock options.

I’m working at my 6 monitor Bloomberg Station, tracking the trend line on palladium. I hear the doggy door swing open and close. Our little fox turns about her bed three times and lays down, curled up with her little Mr. Fox we got her that she can carry in her mouth.

Our Tara is almost always a Fox at home now. She prefers it and we are indulgent. Plus Pel is wracked with guilt over her break with reality. I and her therapist have both told him that it was inevitable and that it’s lucky we had her when it happened. But all he hears is his failure as her friend, lover and Sir. Pel is amazingly serious about all of this. You should hear him talk about correct and incorrect actions and how honor must be integral to the BDSM experience. For a non-Pro, he does go on.

I have been through some terrible things. Things no one should experience, even nearly dying from one incident. Even so, what happened to Tara gives me the shivers. That monster tortured and killed friends of hers in front of her. He broke her down and built her back to what he wanted. And then set her loose, expecting her to come crawling back in some kind of sick dominance game. I know Pel killed him. But whatever he did, it wasn’t enough. And now there’s some kind of ring of these people who have been doing this for years. I can’t even. A frission of fear runs up my spine. I could have fell prey to one of them. Easily, could have went out with one. We think we’re safe and we just aren’t. Maybe Pel takes our security a bit far, with tail cars and a security station in the house but seeing this…is anything really enough?