Flying a hot air balloon 🎈 should be reserved for the experts !
"It's gone...I didn't dream it...Don't say I did."
The buildup of tension is like the sudden crash of thunder that wakes you from your sleep. Its roar cracks like a leather whip against your eardrums, sending its seismic waves into your chest. Each wave thrusting the blood throughout your veins, and for a few moments, you can't breathe. Your body trips and everything goes dark.
"Do you like to watch?" This was the predominant phrase repeated throughout the movie DoUlike2watch.com (2003, Josh Levy). I remember watching this movie as a teen and it wasn't the horror story that thrilled me (I was into cult horror at that time, much like my fellow goth/alternative peers). What fascinated me...was the question...
As featured in my first video discourse, this is the slightly expanded version of the topic: three-way compatibility model.
Brussels EROTIX Salon, edition: March 2022! ~ A warm account of what, when, where and most importantly HOW IN THE...
Make love not war! That was the message at Woodstock! I thereby proceed to overwrite the message of "turn not a blind eye to the suffering of thy fellow man." with "Let us not procrastinate and live while we can."
A measure of my deepest love is in my rhyme (or flow of words when there is none). Ten years ago I wrote you a poem on a scrap of paper (or was it tissue paper?) half in my broken French, half in my mother tongue. I drew a portrait of you as you sat. That didn't scare you. You didn't run!
"Got to be careful when you're trying to get rid of them. You try to spear 'em or something, they just turn into two jellyfish." (John Tavner : Patriot, Season 2). In the fictional story, John swims across the Channel, through a bloom of jellyfish, in order to escape the jellyfish situation created behind him. An irony that isn't lost on a perceptive audience: Escape from one problem, creates a whole set of others!
One of the lyrics from Lana Del Rey's songs featured in The Great Gatsby movie.
There was something about his last kiss…it hadn’t sent those shivers down the spine like last time.
Some questions have no answers. We assume that the answers to existential questions are buried somewhere deep in the subconscious and we just need to open our mind enough to find the answers. But what if some questions really have no answers at the time we do the asking?
The choices seem to be limited to: Sex without emotion and emotion without lust. Still seemingly the only two philosophical choices of human experience and existence. And what if these were not the only options? How far and how much can human sentiment be stretched? How far does sexuality go before it becomes corruption? I wonder...
Think back to the 90s and early 2000s, the white picket fence dream when we still wrote letters to say "I like you" and "I love you". It was both easy and difficult to express emotion in youth. Difficult because of nerves, and easy because of lack of emotional baggage to drag us down (for those of us who grew up without life-altering abuse). I asked a friend how she managed to drag the words "I love you" from her subconsciousness and paste them on a heartfelt post of mine on Facebook. "It's real hard!" She answered. Often she abbreviates it to make it cute but less relevant. But, she added: "The world needs more love in it, and if we don't say it, nobody will know it."
I'm not a nice person (by popular decision). I'm loyal and honest and could probably kill for you...but I'm not nice, or kind, or sensitive to the pain of others on a consistent basis. I'm not an Empath...to me, people are made of glass. Sometimes they break. I can pick up the pieces with my bear hands; blood washes off...wounds heal. When my grandmother died, almost the entire neighborhood went to her funeral. Very few would go to mine. The price of brutality.
Years ago, I followed the blog of a poly-lady called M (for the sake of privacy I don't put her full name). I met her in person at a fetish party far from her home and mine...or rather ours because I was with my boyfriend. Her blog was softer toned than her physical presence and I enjoyed it more. Meeting her however was different. I liked her but I was too stunned by her direct sexual solicitation of him...and of me.