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ShipsPassing ships. I think thats the term used most appropriately. To describe our brief encounter. Our quick lesion. Romantic language for confused feelings of body and heart. A passionate beginning of words and lips, passed and flowed through. Soon the sea grew, complex ocean of currents uncharted. For me at least. The north, the city of pink grey stone confusion of morals I found hard to anchor. I thought wed settle happily into the mariner. But no. A storm of interest, but yours whimpered in the wind, dissolved and dissipated. A brief moment passed as I was left stranded, trapped in sea weed entrails and coils complex. Emotions for the ship that passed me in a brief encounter of quick intentions. Gone with the wind, rather than constant like salt and rock, hard and concrete.
A DestinationYou were the upgraded copy, the richer version, the easy distraction. Id been consumed for hours over the alluded obsession, the favored stature that was a stranger to my tastes. Id thought and Id concluded, escapism or a plan, either to satisfy.
A plan set in motion, a destination. A train, another, a wait, and you. I came for the other, but found my eyes wondering. In that silver, those jeans, that voice. An escape and an excuse. Easy, no? The right moment, the right place, the right hour. The alcohol and the dress. Why not? I could have this version, this smile, this stature.
Why not indeed. A bad idea, a mistaken moment, a plan unraveled in pleasure and excitement, hurt pride and bruised ecstasy. Youth and naivety, for me. You werent what I wanted, even though I repeated it many times. I used your carbon copy aesthetic as much as you used my easy, drunken attitude. It was one night dragged over three days. I latched on to the version that let me,
ObsessionObsession. Its an easy thing to fall into, and an even harder hole to escape.
I liked you once. Quite a lot actually. Despite the fact that my best interests told me you were a bad idea. Your texture didnt suit my tastes, your stature was nothing I ever thought Id favor. And yet I fell after you happily, made a fool of myself mostly.
Its gone now. I found closure in a drunken night and a single bed. In spilled words of oppressed months, inappropriate affection and rejected touch. It was awkward, embarrassing, but satisfying. And then there was the exhibition and the appropriate obsession. And yet, I still like to think.
Your name makes me turn my head, your silhouette and sound will always make me listen. Its hard to completely remove myself from the half whole I once so happily sat in, wallowed in, and would have drowned in. A beguiling puddle of self pity and complete and alluded infatuation.
Im still jealous, with no reason to be. I still reminisce on things that n
Best Damn WomanWhen I was younger, my home life wasn't really conducive to having friends. My only friend for most of my life was my cousin. We were only a few months apart in age, but we felt like twins. Finished each others' sentences, would text the same things to each other at the same time, could sense when the other was in pain or just needed a pick me up. We invaded each others' lives and were the last person we each said "I love you" to at the end of the day.
A little over a year ago, she was killed in a car wreck along with her husband. But there are times I still get those feelings. Still want to grab my phone and send a text. Sometimes, I've actually sent the text and then I wonder who the person is on the receiving end. They've never responded. Not sure what I'd do if I did get a response.
I miss her more than I've ever missed anything. Even her faults. Like when she'd take over my house and force me to do something I didn't want to do. Joining dA was one of those take overs.&
Confessions of a Dom 1As a little girl, I was taught not to trust men. One of the first things I was taught was how to use them. It started with old hollywood movies as soon as I was old enough to understand. When I was around 5 or 6 my mom told me to watch closely as John Wayne's co-star seduces him. Oh I paid attention to that fine ass woman alright, but yo, John Wayne knew what was up on how to get them. I didn't want to use men, I wanted to be like them because to me they were a symbol of strength and I understood that at an early age. I still learned all the strategies my mom expected me to learn from women of old hollywood movies because when you're a kid you don't understand right or wrong. I didn't dislike being a woman, but I just wanted to command as much power as a man in society. Gender seemed irrelevant to me because anything that turns you on is acceptable to me as long as there is consent. There is nothing wrong with being grossed out by fetishes either because the opposite side of the spectr
Confessions of a Dom 2No one can handle the truth, but it is not because we do not want to know it, there is just too much pain. It is in the realm of fiction where we compromise with our escape into fantasy with our need to tell the truth that no one can handle in reality. People are priceless. Objects have value. To own something outside of our own bodies is an instinct that every living thing obeys without question. Ownership can be in everyday things we don't even think about. Even the act of consumption is an act of ownership, which is where I suspect that is where the current term for "self entitlement" comes from. I was born self entitled. It wasn't a choice. I didn't feel self entitled, but I had the power to command. A presence if you will. Its something that is hardwired into my physical existence that I have spent my whole life trying to control.
All doms deal with an anxiety of controlling the power they have because a true dom never explicitly wants to force someone against their will. A real d
once.Ein Buch schreiben für die Frau, die man liebt, dachte ich gestern beim Erwachen, was für eine peinliche Idee. Das muss ich alles nur geträumt haben. Nein, es ist unvorstellbar, so etwas wirklich zu tun. Das würde ich nie machen. Schliesslich bin ich erstens Junggeselle und zweitens unverheiratet. Doch dann kam ein SMS von Julia. Sie schrieb, sie sei auch überfordert gewesen – jetzt erst recht wegen dem Buch. Also hatte ich es doch getan? Ich musste entdecken, dass ich das Buch nicht nur geschrieben, sondern auch ausgedruckt, gebunden und nach Madrid gebracht habe. Und jetzt hält Julia es in den Händen. Es gingen noch ein paar SMS hin und her, bis wir uns endlich entschlossen, uns doch zu treffen.
Meistens schenkt man ja dem Umstand, dass man einen Magen hat, keine besondere Beachtung. Ich meine damit, dass man nicht oft durch die Stadt geht und sich denkt: „Ich habe einen Magen“, so wie man vielleicht manchmal durch die Stadt geht u
3700 FeetEvery Tuesday afternoon, Don sends out an email asking who plans on coming to soaring lessons the following day, and every Tuesday evening I email him back and let him know, yes, I will be attending. On Wednesday, he either confirms if flight instruction is still on, or if it’s been cancelled, usually it’s because of weather. We won’t fly in the rain, and ridge soaring--flying on the wind rising from the valley--is still too advanced for me. I always make sure to checkthe windsock before heading on to the glider field. When it’s sticking straight out, will a full six rings showing, the wind’s blowing at least thirty knots an hour and no one goes up.
It’s actually a relief whenever I get a “WEFI Cancelled” email. Today, I'm hoping for it, even though it's sunny and close to 75 degrees, with a high cloud base. This late in the season, it's likely to be the best soaring weather we’ll have until the spring.
Still, I leave the office at
To-Do List: June 201406-06-2014 Listen to your feet
08-06-2014 Nobody knows what a dinosaurs penis looks like
08-06-2014 Cats, cuts, chai lattes and croissants
:Do Something Nice Today:There are 7 or 8 clinical offices. Each one is either carpeted, or linoleum with a giant, torn-up and pilling area rug. Each one has at least 7 or 8 bought-in-bulk chairs, a teacher’s desk, and a whiteboard. Clinicians switch offices more often that I used to think – it seems like these days, more and more of them are “moving on,” and more and more noobs are being hired. Some of the office changes don’t make sense. Nearly non of them belong to their “original” owners – that is, to whomever had dominated each room when I got there – and most of the time, the switches seem random. No one appears uncomfortable with this, which is odd because most of the students are very vocal when something tangible bothers them. I like to think it doesn’t bother me much, either, but it hit me surprisingly hard when the clinician in charge of me moved up stairs. It was supposedly a logical change: her dog is coming starting in November an
this is all i'm able to produce "Okay class let's start the year with some introductions. I'm going to go around the room randomly and you're going to describe yourself in a word!"
Oh. Of course. Our eyes met. She smiles. She's going to pick me. She's going to make me go first. I can't describe myself. I don't know how to.
"You there. You can start!"
Her smile grows even larger. She doesn't ask for my name, so I won't give it. One word to describe myself. There's only one going around my mind.
Stream of Consciousness IHot water, yellow walls, yellow tops, giraffes, penguins. Purple shirts and cadged squirrels. Blue eyes, and messy hair. Burst balloons, scissors and inappropriate behavior. Waiting, anticipating. Cheap wine and loosened tongues. Orange, doctors, tenants and hills, smells.
We indulge, publicly, inappropriately, insultingly, without care or consideration. Disgusting affection. Tongue, lips, ears, nose.
We indulge in our laughter and words, alcohol and kisses.
Sober, little sleep. Big head phones and bigger suitcases. Coffee, morning, newspapers. White walls and carved tables. Shy kisses, lips, tongue, nose. Good byes, and promises in given books.
You are the one I dreamed of. But dont I always dream and fall easily? At least this time my obsession was picked more appropriately.
Swaying walls, blue light. Bed and towels, dripping skin. Sweat or water? Beating heart and pumping pulse, legs and arms and loud in my ears. Sleepy eyes and captured thoughts. Too much time to s
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More