Category: General Musings

Walking Pere Lachaise in Paris, the grey skies held back the worst of the rain; the wind was just sharp enough to nudge free the gold leaves from the trees to litter the cobblestone pathways.

All Saints Day was spent in Paris amidst cemeteries and cathedrals; ornate gravestones and large stained glass windows.

I found it strangely comforting.

I should write…more. I should write of Tuscany’s large rolling hills filled with vineyards and small stone villages with winding passageways and prowling calico cats; of the canals of Amsterdam and Bruge, one lined with red lit windows, the other with chocolate shops.

But tonight, my mind remains with stone angels.

Fair, the words drafted to hold you down.

Cruel, the sentiment that keeps you there.

Reading John D. MacDonald’s McGee novels makes me want to be a more robust man. A burly, competent fellow who can bounce on the balls of his feet and clean up a good woman with a few brutally honest words comprised of hard won wisdom.

Alas, I am not there yet.

But it is something to strive for.

I don’t treat my words like they are my children. Hell – I’ve whored out my prose for all kinds of reasons (most of them quite base; I’m a sinner. Lord, am I a sinner!).

So when I say I’m fascinatingly disturbed by some of the places my writing turns up, understand it’s not because I’m possessive of my writing.

I’m simply morbidly amused.

For example, let’s take the following search string that popped up in my WordPress statistics: “Too far, too little, too much too fast to realign when the signs all say go.”

Put that into Google and the first entry is for a Craigslist ad in Tampa titled “Goddess for Slave”.

I’m actually quite pleased by this one. It’s not the first time I’ve seen my writing show up in a Craigslist ad, and really, I’ve got no objection to people using my writing to find someone with unique tastes.

The next two entries are actually links back to my site and the original post I wrote back in 2005, Crimson Silk.

Then there are a number of links to a CollarMe profile for a female dominant in Florida named Deplore. My guess would be this is the same person who wrote the Craigslist ad. No problem. If she likes the writing enough to feel it can speak for her, I’m tickled pink. Well, perhaps not pink. Tickled crimson, maybe.

…

And then there is this.

Al…right. I mean, he changed the title to ‘Power’ (a rather bland name – I think I may be slightly insulted on behalf of my writing) but the words are generally the same.

And he posted this back in 2007. They must have found it inspiring enough to keep around.

Cool.

But, errr, what’s this?

Isn’t that…? No…it couldn’t be. Did he really…dear god. The horror! To take this post and…and…

It’s like a bad Star Trek episode, where my blog has an evil twin.

Reading through the site is eerie; it’s as if all of my writing has been filtered through the mind of an adolescent goth boy who has taken all of my writing and regurgitated it, turning writing like this into this.

I don’t have a problem with someone stealing my writing. But that just offends my literary sensibilities.

That’s it.

I’m going back to the beach.

I’m waiting for the storm.

Standing at ocean’s edge, anticipating the winds that will drive the waves high enough to engulf me, it’s not that I want to drown.

I just want to know how it feels to face the current with fierce joy in my heart.

It’s always the line I change that I remember the best.

Our lives are filled with assumptions.

If an action has had the same outcome a hundred times, we expect it to have the same on the hundred and first.

We call this experience.

Assumptions play an important role in our lives. They are short-cuts in thought that save us time. In niches, they are one of the differences between an expert and a lay person: they are what tell a plumber the source of a leak after looking under your sink, tell a doctor the source of your ailment just by the bumps on your skin, and they tell a network engineer the root cause of a network outage in glance through equipment logs.

Assumptions are important, but they all have the same, obvious, flaw.

They’re not always right; but that isn’t the problem.

The problem is when we aren’t aware of the assumptions we make; because if we’re not aware, we don’t catch when we are wrong.

I can live with being flawed; but I want to know the kind of flawed monster I am.

It doesn’t take great courage to risk everything when you have nothing.

But to give up the things in your life, to have less to risk more, takes more courage then most people have.

She wasn’t expecting a knife at her throat.

Standing behind her, with a firm grip in her hair to tilt her chin up, it was easy to keep her neck exposed. The curved blade kissed her skin and I drew her head back until it nestled against my shoulder. I spoke, face resting against her soft blond hair.

“My first. Did you think I would have my knife against anothers neck without first letting it taste your own?”

She didn’t answer. I tightened my grip in her hair.

“You are mine.” The blade fell away from her throat; I placed it on the bookcase beside me. I thought I knew how sharp the blade was, having tested it earlier on my own skin. But I had underestimated it; where the blade had graced her skin, there was a red scrape. I ran my finger over it and it came back crimson.

Looking over the list of blogs I read on a consistent basis, I realized today that too many of them had fallen completely silent in the last year; and those that hadn’t, such as my own, had dropped into a low simmer.

I can remember the first sex blog I read. It was about six years ago and was written by a woman in a small town. It described her casual affairs with several men, including her ex-husband truck driver; it gave sordid details of her liaisons, more then one of which occurred in the local barroom’s bathroom.

It was trashy, badly written, and completely fascinating. I couldn’t stop reading it. I was hooked on sex blogs.

So, in celebrating blogs that have passed into the great ether, and blogs that remain to continue to entertain today, here is a sampling of my favorite blogs, past and present:

81 Vaginas, a Pillow Blog
The last post was from Nov 19th, 2005. But thankfully, his words remain, his blog preserved. It’s one of the only blogs I’ve read from start to finish more then once. He writes about sex and women in a fashion that is a mix of poetry, sterile analysis, and stream of consciousness. It is insightful. It is off-putting. It is weirdly arousing.

…solipsubmissive…
Ah, Elise. My favorite masochistic submissive who is neither submissive, nor masochistic. Except when she is. Too intelligent for her own good, she is beautifully adept at using her wit to eviscerate those who don’t meet her fairly high standards. Which is most everyone. On the other hand, she is very polite when doing so.

“Myths and Metawhores”
Here, Magdelana. My dancing muse, the dark silhouette to my own wickedness.

Urban Gypsy
One of two bloggers on this list that I’ve actually met – she’s even more interesting and fun in person then she is on-line (which is saying something). She knows what she wants and has given herself the freedom to enjoy it. Also, she has some damn nice cleavage.

Someday, I still plan to corner her in a dark staircase.

pretty dumb things
Ex-stripper, ex-English teacher, and now ex-blogger – but not, I’m glad to hear, an ex-writer. She still writes, and her blog remains intact. I highly encourage you to start at the beginning and read your way through it. I’m fairly certain she’s added ten to fifteen new words to the English language, and every single one of them should be part of your lexicon.

Bliatz
Closed in January of 2007, Bliatz was one of the first blogs I read about sex that was not only voyeuristic – complete with pictures and audio snippets of her and her husband – it was intelligent. For me, she was the start of smart, cultured, women who wrote about sex.

“If the Collar Fit”
Gone. But not forgotten. Clever girl who had a way with words. You may be noticing a trend here in those I like to read. I tend to enjoy those with a unique perspective on sex and life – and the ability to convey that perspective through words.

“Sadistic Excess”
I don’t read a lot of blogs written by other men. In fact, this is the only one I have in my RSS reader. Read it and you’ll understand why.