Story 1

I blink. I’m lying here naked, out of breath, and a little sweaty in an unfamiliar bed, slightly uneasy and unsure of what the next move is going to be. It’s a little like a poker game, these situations. One is never sure what the other person is thinking, what is truly going on in their brain, unless they are completely transparent. And this guy is definitely not transparent. Well, OK, maybe he is.

Turning my head slightly, I glance over at the naked man lying next to me who is responsible for my current condition. Now, what is his name again? I sigh internally, James? John? Jim? Ahhh yes, Jason. Well, really, does it matter? I mean, with a body like that who cares what his name is. Besides, I’m moving to a new city soon and obviously this isn’t going to turn into some kind of a relationship because goddess knows I don’t do long distance for a reason, so…

But truly, this isn’t the first time this has happened and I need to stop finding myself in these situations. It’s not healthy and it’s damn hard to keep the names straight. Why am I worrying about his name again? It’s not as if he’s going to remember mine and what do I really care since I’m not going to see him again.

Dammit girl, what were you thinking? Going over to some strange guy’s place for a “bottle of wine and a movie”. Knowing your history, what did you think was going to happen? And knowing men, did you honestly think he just wanted a bottle of wine and a movie and to talk and get to know you? Geez, you should know better than that by now.

Well, time to get it over with. I glance over at him again. He’s lying there on his back in all his glory, his beautiful body still glistening a little. One arm underneath his head, the other flung over his face. This is always the awkward part.

I clear my throat. “Ummmm…so I guess that’s my cue then?”

He grunts and moves his arm, opening one eye. “Hmmm? Oh. Ummm, you can stay if you want, but I have to be up really early tomorrow.”

Translation: ‘Hmmm, oh are you still here? Ummm, get the hell out.’ Amazing what one can learn from inflection, intonation, and experience. At least this one is a bit of a gentleman. He didn’t come right out and say it. Not that I would stay even if he meant the offer, I never do.
“No, if you have to get up I should let you sleep. It’s late and I know it’s hard to sleep with a strange person in your bed.”

He shrugs and continues to lie there, half asleep. I guess it’s time. I sit up and climb over him. Now comes the challenging part, finding my clothes in the dark in a strange apartment. I laugh internally. Yup, a real gentleman, even offering to turn on a light for me.
I make my way over to the couch in his tiny bachelor suite, remembering that my shirt came off over in that area about an hour or so ago. There is a little light coming in through the window from the street light outside. I find my shirt and my bra and at least I’m now half clothed. I’m pulling on my jeans when he decides that it’s time to talk.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” he says as I’m searching for my socks.

“Ummm, yeah. Right.” I laugh. “Invite a girl that you’ve never met over to watch movies and drink a bottle of wine and it didn’t ever cross your mind that you might get some?” Damn, sometimes these guys really think that I’m stupid. Guess the blonde hair makes them a little confused or something. I’ve found one sock and I’m searching under the couch for the other one.
At this stage, the awkwardness really sets in. I hate this part…trying to get dressed and get the hell out as quickly as possible while trying to engage in awkward, post-sex conversation. Ah ha, victory! Found the other sock. I sit down on the couch for a second to pull on my socks while mentally cursing the bastard for the lack of light in the place.

“Well at least it was good,” he says lamely.

“Yeah, it was fantastic. Thanks.” At least I’m not lying about that, it was pretty fucking amazing. And at least I didn’t have to “remind” this one to wrap the package before delivery. Geez, do they really think that we don’t notice when they try to ‘sneak in’ without protection? Do they really think that we’re that stupid in this day and age? I mean, I hate condoms as much as the next person, but that’s a superiorly stupid idea. I guess the scary part is that if they keep trying it must mean that they do succeed occasionally. Which is really risky when one thinks about the diseases running rampant these days. Makes me want to stand up and yell at all the girls out there to protect themselves and stop being so dumb.

I stand up and make my way across the bachelor suite to the door. At least my eyes have adjusted to the darkness now. Standing at the door, I try to pull on my shoes as quickly as possible while trying not to fall over (balance is an issue tonight for some reason, perhaps because of the wine). The urge to bolt is getting stronger and stronger. And he’s still lying on his bed, but now he’s rolled over onto his side and removed his arm from across his face. He’s half watching me, half asleep.

Chivalry is dead. OK, well that’s far too much of a blanket statement and I know it’s not true, but chivalry is certainly dead in this little pigeonhole basement suite. So for some reason, I’m still standing at the door, unsure of what to do. I’ve been in this position so many times before that you’d think I’d know what to do at this stage. Usually though, the guys are human enough to at least see me to the door and wish me a good night or something like that.

Oh, finally, he’s hauling his ass up and putting on a robe. Wait a minute. A robe? What the hell? Now that’s funny! Twenty minutes ago he was inside of me and then we were lying naked next to each other. He just spent the last few minutes watching me get dressed while lying completely naked on his bed, and now suddenly he feels the need to be modest. Whatever. As he’s pulling on his robe he says, “So, you’re going then?”

I almost laugh out loud. Ummm, no, I just spent the last five minutes, in the dark, searching for my clothes and getting dressed so that I can stay. I’m standing at your door with my hand on the door handle because I want to spend an intimate night cuddling naked in your bed with you so that I can be woken up after a horrible night’s sleep at some ungodly hour because you have to work. Astute observation, you moron.

Not sure what to say, so I say the first thing that comes to mind, “Yup, looks like it.”

“Well, it was nice meeting you.”

Yup, I’m sure it was. I’m sure that I’m going down in the history books of your life as the amazing one night stand that got away. And I’m sure that you’ll remember more than the fact that you got laid when you get up tomorrow. “Ummm, yeah, you too.”

He leans in and gives me an awkward hug while simultaneously opening the door. I must admit, that is a good move. Almost like he’s practiced it before. “Drive safely.”

Writing Evolution, a note.

Michael (from April, 2006)
I’m not satisfied
With the way you left me.
I’m not satisfied
Not knowing how you feel.

We crashed and burned hon
Before we left the ground.
We crashed and burned dear
And we never said goodbye.

I barely knew you
But I feel so cheated.
I barely knew you
But oh, the tears they fell.

I looked in your eyes
And I saw your kind soul.
I looked in your eyes
Lost in pools of bright blue.

And when you smiled
My frozen heart melted.
And when you smiled
I longed to know you more.

The moment we kissed
I lost time, stopped thinking.
The moment we kissed
For an instant time stopped.

Yet we live apart
Briefly our two souls met.
Yet we live apart
The memory I’ll cherish.

Will we meet again?
That’s in the hands of time.
Will we meet again?
Don’t know if I want to.

lost

today i feel so lost and empty. so alone. for days now i have wanted to exist, but with others around. today, despite my best efforts i want to exist alone. to allow my thoughts free reign to be organic and to evolve as they will. chemical imbalance do what you will.

and so i sit, contemplating the ocean, the sky, the mountains, the wind. i am still, but restless. pacing in the cage of my mind behind bars of my own creation. everything seems very surreal and almost unimportant right now. in my present state i want to play with fire and knives. that would not be wise in my present state.

when i feel like this i am best left alone to my own devices. others do not understand me when i feel like this. it scares them. makes them uneasy. it is as if the fire has been extinguished in my soul. the passion is missing today. and for me, without passion, life is not worth living.

perhaps it is simply the time of year. the summer solstice approaches. summer is my season. ruled by fire and heat and the sun. it should not be this cold this close to summer.

i need heat. i need the heat of the sun. the heat of passion. a passionate embrace, skin on skin. bodies writhing together in ecstasy, breathing as one. salty droplets mingling on skin. the smell of desire and flame. the sound of breathing, two bodies as one, knowing each other's desire. the only goal pleasure, heightened pleasure, continuing throughout the night. dizzy and high on pheromones, discovering each other. thrown back heads, moaning and screaming. candles flickering in the dark, casting erotic shadows. molten wax running over bare skin in rivules. pain and pleasure merging into one. like a drug, don't stop. never stop. lost in ecstasy.

she is taking me over. i feel the impending transformation. i want to let her free, but i fear for the body if she is allowed free reign.

hurt me

Hold me down,
take control...
Bind me in chains,
do what you will...
My lips are eager,
my lips are moist.
The smell of desire,
the musk of longing.
Hurt me please,
will you if I beg?
Hurt me please.
Because I want to feel.

exploring the duality

Darkness spreads tentacles of black fire across my plane of vision once again. It has taken over my essence. My duality, usually dominated by lightness and joy, sighs in resignation and allows the inky blackness it's dominion for a time. Better to accept this part of my self than to fight it. For the battle would be long and bloody with no winner and the same outcome as acceptance.

I pace in my mind like a caged beast in a zoo or a freak show. I am restless. She wants to be freed once again. Not the creature of lightness and joy that usually exists, but the creature of night and darkness; of all things macabre.

She revels in freedom of sexuality, sensuality, torture, play. She aches to feel the cold, hard kiss of metal on skin, the sharp sting of leather. She aches to smell plastic, rubber, leather; to hear the crack of a whip. Lips, breath, teeth, biting, sucking, tongues, tasting. Eyes open, eyes closed. Crimson clouds her vision and she smiles. Chained, shackled, blindfolded. Hands both rough and gentle. The pressure of fingernails scraping down a back, red welts rising. A caress of metal, biting into skin. Sweat rising, beads slowly trickling down.

Once, she took it to the limit of what she could mentally take. She scared herself. Not for what she had done, never that. The fear was that she had taken it to a level where her partner was afraid, and yet still she wanted more. The fear was in knowing that he was as experienced as he was, but had never taken it that far. And she wanted more. For days afterwards, she was aching, bruised black, and sore. And she liked it and she wanted more. The wanting more scared her to the point that she retreated for a long time. How twisted does one mind have to be to want to be hurt. Now she wants out again, she wants more.

Pain slut, whore. She struggles within the body that is shared with the other. She is the girl with no morals. And yet I, the other, the joyful one, accept her while fighting her. We do share a body, after all.

And so, as the crimson rises and the darkness pervades my soul, so does the light. As she craves pain, I crave a light and gentle touch. Within me exists the duality. In my mind, the voices whisper, hurt me, be kind to me, hurt me, cause no pain. I am scarred, I am broken, I am whole, the pieces put back together haphazardly with Elmer's white glue and duct tape. Hurt me, love me. Accept me, love me. Adore me. Hurt me. Love me.

A Spring Day

Water falls like liquid crystal,
splashes audibly on the ground.
Ants scurry in haphazard patterns
on errands of their own design,
looping and weaving on warm stone steps.
The old oak tree stands magnificent and proud,
arms spread wide to shelter all beneath.
And above, the sun smiles down
from blue skies filled with fluffy white clouds.
I sit in quiet contemplation,
grass carpet soft beneath my feet.
Content, a pen in my hand.

In Mourning

Heavily
my heart retreats
for a brief instant
a whisper in the wind
eyes unfocussed
bitter disappointment
a single tear silently shed
mourning what
nothing
something
possibility
Lightly,
my heart returns.
Opens joyfully,
embracing the unknown,
embracing the future.

My life is an open book, written in a language that few understand.
Cross-referenced and with footnotes of a methodology unknown to most.
To know me is to decipher the text.
A daunting task.
But, I think, worth it in the end.


Through ribbons of moonlight
I dance beneath the veil of stars.
Mystical, magical.
The elements embrace me,
The elements welcome me.
I dance unconstrained
To the music of the earth.


My restless soul,
My wandering spirit.
Aches for an anchor,
A companion in exploration,
For freedom from repression,
Yet shelter from judgement.
Relief in freedom.
Relief in oblivion.

Elemental

The earth beneath me cradles my body.
Memories stored of times long passed,
Protected and loved, solid and steadfast,
The earth will be whilst time remains.

The air, the wind caresses my body.
Softly, gently, whispers on skin.
Playful and flighty, its memory short,
The air, the wind, cares nothing of time.

The water laps up over my body.
Nourishing and cleansing, the crashing of waves.
A quiet symphony of melodious sound,
The water will be forever and a day.

The fire burns brightly, warming my skin.
Externally transient, I hold it within.
Flames flicker and lick in a joyous dance,
The fire is timeless whilst passion remains.

Daniel (from Sept '06)

Thought my heart was frozen, believed I couldn’t feel.
Misery my companion, loneliness my friend.
It was only one night, it was merely six hours.
My reality shattered, icy shards rained down.

Your gentle touch, your caress, my eyes filled with tears.
For a moment time stopped and I let myself breathe.
Drowning in emotion, first time in forever.
What is frozen will melt, it just takes the right fire.

And now I wonder, what was your motive, your plan?
And now I wonder, will I hear from you again?

A cloudless night, stars shining hopeful in the sky.
A memory of contentment, six hours at a time.
Pain is a part of life, a feeling I embrace.
One day love will find me, let joy be my fate.

For that night dear man, gracious thanks from my heart.
But my fear overwhelmed me, felt alone in the dark.
Thought time had healed old wounds, but I guess I was wrong.
Couldn’t share much of myself, too soon to be strong.

And now I wonder, what was your motive, your plan?
And now I wonder, will I hear from you again?

So tired of chasing, want to be chased for a change.
Wild things can be tamed, they just can’t be caged.
Patience, perseverance, gentleness and some time.
Gambling pays off the utmost when the stakes are high.

The passion was there, but I won’t wait by the phone.
The hurt cuts too deep when I’m faced with the unknown.
Thank you for revealing another side of me.
Your beautiful soul remains locked in memory.

And still I wonder, what was your motive, your plan?
And still I wonder, will I hear from you again?

The Amazons

The Amazons were an ancient nation of warrior women, their society dominated and governed by women. They traditionally cut or burned off their right breast in order to more freely and effectively use their weapons, an indication to me of their strength and determination to survive and thrive, as well as their adaptability in a harsh ancient society. Amazons are also depicted as highly independent and perhaps worshippers of an Artemis-like goddess. I've always looked up to their strength, determination, and independence and while I won't be removing my breast or giving up the company of men anytime soon, I strive to live my life with these qualities. "Amazon" was a nickname given to me independently by two different people at two different times: a man I once loved and the mother of a dear friend of mine. This may be a commentary on either my personality and the way I live my life, a commentary on my height and stature (at 6'3" I've been told I'm fairly statuesque), or a commentary on both. Any way, it seems appropriate that I use the title of "An Amazonian" for this blog, even if it may be a little presumptuous in the eyes of some.

To Be Peaceful

With intensity of spirit
I wish to glow;
My soul of power, brightness, desire.
To open my mind and heart to all,
To be reborn and start life anew;
To change my nature
Or finally meet myself.
The glorious strength of one heart,
One dream.
For what was lost to be found:
Fragments carelessly tossed to the wind
Gently, lovingly reassembled.
A greater whole
Grateful for the breakdown, the pain;
Realizing in time, loneliness abated.
In time, in time,
The universe provides.
In time, in time,
Separate journeys combine.
Restless heart calm yourself.
Restless mind.
Restless soul.
Just breathe in time with time.

Change

My need, my want, my desire,
Waxes and wanes with time.
My comfort, my solace
In the arms of strangers no more.
Restless awakening,
Burning flames,
Passion.
Caged yet free,
Free yet caged.
I need, I want, I desire.

He looks at me with intensity, curiosity.
I panic.
Sirens blaring in my head.
Danger and excitement,
Fear, unknowing.
Powerful yet powerless,
The hunter becomes the prey.