to record without judgement

i'm silly, very silly here in my little world, i create a little world to smoke in and to sex in and to drown the world away. here i do yoga, falling. i do meditation, crying. i stare at the painting all day and night long. dreaming - dreaming of possibilities.

i read the most beautiful treatise on love, generated from a facebook thread that i posed moral apprehension at the idea of cheating. or was it the gossip. the last comment, seems pertinent.

Observe even from this thread alone how obviously context-dependent questions of morality are. See how much information we needed to be able to make a more precise and confident assessment? And sometimes morality isn't even the issue -- what if she's realized the ex-boyfriend was her true love and she ends up spending the rest of her life with him and the two of them are happy, and her current husband ends up finding someone else who he's far happier with, and both couples end up spending holidays together in exotic tropical locales sipping pina coladas while the kids from both marriages (old and new, even) play together before them? Would anyone at that point care whether the initial act was moral? The point is that if she's sending that photo, it's for a reason -- and what matters is not the morality of it but why she's doing it. Is she unhappy in her marriage? Is she unhappy in life? Is something important missing? What would it take to fill the void? Or is the void within her own self, and incapable of being repaired by something outside? These are the questions that are really worth trying to answer. Because in the end people do what they do out of the strength of their own feelings, even when they don't understand them, even when they know the act is immoral. To do so is human and part of the search for happiness and fulfillment that we all spend our lives engaged in. And in matters of love more than perhaps anywhere else in life, no one should ever remain loyal to another purely out of a sense of self-denying, self-defeating obligation. That's not love, it's self-destruction, a sure way to consign oneself to bitterness and resentment and turn whatever love one once felt for the other into poison. In love there is no morality in self-sacrifice; there is morality only in freely giving of oneself. Any other forced obligation or sacrifice I consider to be the most morally reprehensible act in the name of love of all, because love itself is not love if it is not freely and willfully given, or withheld, every day, by continual acts of deliberate choice by lover in respect of beloved.

 I loved it. i argued passionately for the freedom of love to carry itself in a bikini picture and this boy spoke. it was lovely. the thread itself for another post. not to sidetrack from what i came here to do, to describe... my reality.

I have recordings in my head. I need to get them out. onto the arts. describing the scene of my yoga stretching, and falling, and at least the smoke makes me yoga and i'm fine and mellow as a result. painting my fine and mellow self. the winds and waves of life. i made love to a 24 year old girl and she tasted like peaches to my fingers, every inch of her i ate with my hands. i felt the passing of time in that perfectly placed body squarely in my fingertips. how can i paint these moments, the same moments that monks and saints find god in. in the melding into one.    one body, one god, one source. going in to find without. existential ecstasy.

i have it when i fuck tim - unquestionably. a melding heating love stuffed thing, pounding away its aggression. i don't know what i'm all caught up about in the attachment and the resistance to this whole thing, and with generally everything i know is good for me. whats the big deal with doing what is good for me. its good, hi, hello.

i'm not saying tim is the best but he is good. and good is good.

need muse. paint the women. paint my pictures? i get one of every single girl. somehow or another. the donjuanita of women. i love my steamy bad sex romance roles. perv, he said.

i talked too much..to the good neighbor. slow it down, slow down the cadence. not so fast grasshopper jackrabbit.

my hands occupy beautiful bodies these days. i want my hands to start doing more with the paintbrushes. less with the bodies. can i recreate that body feeling. i need a body orgasmic feeling. what the fuck does that look like?

i'm in my place - the vibe is silent. arches, yellow, retro. meditation pillow - crossed legs laptop long table and couch. i release myself from the shame of not creating. with every second that i spend creating.

my creations are these people of course, and the stories could make scenes.

there is the story of the aussie, in a lesbian bar she made a beeline for me and ended the night melted to my face. i've never tasted a mouth like that, and the body was knuckle bitingly fresh and sweet. i want to paint her somehow solo and somehow being serviced. i want to paint her in cuffs locked on a table in nothing but lingerie. barefoot because she's sweet like that.

korean from the club, the gym club that i belong to, a divorcee who landed in my bed asking for kissing one night. we touched each others tits in the steam room and i sneaked into her shower and made out with her for a while before she slipped out. that only happened once but i'd totally paint her in the bathroom if i could. naked girls pressed against the walls dripping with water..

then there is the woman my boy found to play around with and meeting her was an emotional ordeal best recorded at another time but we met and as my life flows, she sucked my pussy for a long time that night. she's tall and blonde and although that threesome was long it was absent ...but after i worked out my feelings with her over text i started feeling better. then i started sexting her. obviously t i'll push it wherever i can. she turned out to be lovely. and kind of boring... but sexable and we'll grab that one more time at the very least.

there's a flow to theses sexual dances, and we go in and out with them and the science of bodies and lovers and love lives fascinates me endlessly. i'm still always learning so many things, learning through my expression, and mistakes and its something else when you finally realize that you've had it all along.