in control

21

I used to date a man who couldn’t have me give him a blowjob or be on top. Control issues anyone?
I straddled my man last night and fucked him. For me, it’s not so much about being in control than it is about letting go. Tits and belly and thrusting. No concern over aesthetics.
Oh and also about being in control.

thinking about such things makes my head hurt and I’d rather not

20

Thinking about such things makes my head hurt and I’d rather not.
What to say when in response
to what may be thought
or desired by others.
Whether I’m speaking in the right tone
or paying enough attention to friends.
Plans.
Text messages.
Once a week I tell my friends I’m not seeing anyone for a day or two. On occasion, longer.
Breaks to keep sanity.
To keep desire to interact.

reduce reduce reduce

19

The function of depression?
The loss of self.
Begin anew.
Reduce reduce reduce.

compromise

18

I had a smoking session with BBB. My heart of hearts told me I should express myself. Last time it told me that was when I just wanted to vent about fucking G. which apparently he felt the same way about. Politics. But anyways, I wanted to tell him how I feel about E. There’s conflict even as I write. And the need to express the truth. I finally figured out why I write here. It’s a compromise. A reaction to the fear of speaking the truth but also at the same time having the need to express the truth. Here you go. It’s public. If you know about the existence of this blog, go ahead and read. You don’t.

I’ve been thinking about truth lately. Brought about by virtual conversations and a series of undergoing changes. I hear my heart speak to me. It’s pure love and it tells me the truth. When I hear it and acknowledge it it gives me more. When I lie, it diminishes. And first, to myself I must be true.

speak to me my heart and tell me what I’m feeling

17

On the Saturday of May sixteenth two thousand and nine ad at around two thirty in the afternoon as I was (very) relaxing during my allocated snooze time I realised that I am in love with E. There was conflict in my heart. I analysed but also allowed realisations to come to me. Previous patterns — a boyfriend who didn’t love me and a projection on E. of that kind of behaviour. Also, my rational mind beginning to build defence mechanisms and reacting to the letting go that began the process of becoming aware of this particular truth. I caught my mind threatened and arrested it. The process realised, I became aware of the feelings of conflict. And soon after that, in a very spiritual way, I came to know I was in love. The conflict was a result of my denial and it dissipated as soon as I came to know. The statement came to me: I am in love and my heart of hearts told me.
Maybe I should have suspected this from the fact that I’m going through a Roxette and Dido listening stint. Highly suspicious.
To my slight surprise, I am not threatened by this knowledge and I don’t find myself hoping and wishing it’s reciprocated. Not that I don’t want the latter. But I am happy in my knowledge and that it was that piece of knowledge I needed to acquire access to.

Speak to me my heart and tell me what I’m feeling.

My prayers, for what they’re worth, go to her tonight.

There’s a story I’m will tell and it involves me and feelings. For that page-turner wait. Now, just the prayers. For a friend’s daughter. I shared a story about a loved one who had two psychotic episodes I know of that had a lot to do with too much weed and abuse. And my anger. And my realisation that I had no right to be angry. No room for self–righteousness. Ever full stop And then the unexpected sharing of pain. A drug addict daughter and so on. My prayers, for what they’re worth, go to her tonight.

For BBB

We are funny together.
We should be a couple but we’re not.
I love everyone I know and not.
But I love you affectionately.
Come to Dailan with with me.
There’s an adventure.