kisses & punches

in the everlasting search for love:
craigslist ad, from when I broke my leg. Ansu came in answer.

so i am a total pain in the ass. i will piss you off, and make you see red. and still i'll continue to push you to the edge of sanity, just by being myself. i am emotional when i am upset, i cry when i am sad, i brood when i'm pissed off. i have a talent for getting under people's skin. i have no concept of time. i want what i want when i want it, and am particularly skilled at finding a way to have it. i'm talented and smart and get by on this at my job, but i live in a constant state of emergency, because i like the feeling of adreniline. some people call me free. some people call me stupid. some people say i think too much, and some say i don't think at all.

im ophelia lost somewhere in the 21st century, my existence is often this lingering, longingly dramatic absurdity, that i'm sharp enough to pick up on but too apathetic to shift.

i just got in a fight with my father, and so i look at the way this manifests in my feelings towards against and around the men that i date, fuck, and flirt with. i don't know what the answer is. i don't know what i need you to be. i don't know where i need to bring myself to attract you, or what kind of bullshit i need to coat my obvious glaring weaknesses in when it feels like i am fundamentally flawed in my fathers eyes. will i scorn those of you that are kind for your kindness, will i chase those of you who are spiteful to somehow subside your spite, and will i only want what i can't have... to somehow take this place of not good enough/smothering love with standards that i thumb my nose at?

in the end will history repeat, will it really be a hardworking engineer with a ocd complex to finally tame this rebelious and uncontrollable artist with a sassy chip on her shoulder? a girl who is sometimes too cute, often so not, sometimes mad sweet and all too often simply mad?

for fucks sake. what are we supposed to do with ourselves, anyway?

all kisses or punches here. holla if you like that sorta thing.

anticipation

theres something in the anticipation of an event that makes it all the more intoxicating. the event is coming, i'm waiting. hot waiting.

the event to come is a spanking. i love spanking. the absolution of it, the manliness of the man administering it, the discipline, the discipline, how hungry i am for discipline. make my bottom red like apple.

always i need to record the events, the candles tonight, he lit, his foreign beautiful mouth, tilting up towards mine, the animal in you sees the animal in me and we are conjoined! for a brief moment before we talk ourselves out of it no into it no out of it no into it we go to see whats in there but nothing but nothing reaches reaching fingertips. nothing reaches the yearning gaze. and so my ride home turned to appetizer as i sit here in heat in wait of a spanking, by a man i've never met to give me this punishment, that master large master i talk to in my sleep. you come to me through him and him, and sometimes him, but always in the end you come to me, spinning my yarns, making a beautiful fabric, surrender surrender into me, because i will quell your latent hunger with a need that out hungers your own.......

we're talking too much, just put it down, slowly... quietly, step away.

one, two, three, four...

guard against the broken hearted dismay of having the one you want say no... no, i don't want to hang out with you, no, i can't make it to night, no... no, its just not going to work out. guard by cultivating options.

i've become so good at it. so good that i have one two, three and sometimes four options at any given time. 5, now that is just too much. so i let him go, one unseasonably warm night this fall... he wouldn't be shaked, and i had to be rude. god, i hate when i have to be rude.

you might think to yourself, hey, not bad... there are worse things in life, than having all these options. and you know, you're probably right.

but for some reason, i can't seem to shake this inner loneliness. and for some reason, even for all the options, i still get disappointed. the crush has a birthday tonight, and well... that one fell through.

but doesn't it take the hurt away, just a little, all the time i was with number 2 on saturday? and the satisfaction of the power of number one slipping, slipping away, with the steady decline of his functionality as a sex object?

a little. yes, it does.

but still.. that elusive love. i keep thinking its around the corner, one great man will swoop in, and make everything clear, and right.

i don't know. i wonder sometimes if we spend so much time hoping that we can't ever be happy with what we want, when we get it. i mean really. prince charming walks up, and takes me into the sunset. then what. it all just makes me want to puke that much more.

i apologize to the travelers out there, for the downtrodden tone of this post. trust me, soon enough, i'll be back again.