"The Art of the Mindful Mind Fuck" continued (more philosophical)...

to continue from yesterday's posting:

so, inspired by the boys i know, who send me my kind of porn links for me to jerk off to, i send her ones that i'm jerking off to the bone to.

now, i get to be subtle here because the clues/events themselves have red buzzers that go off (see caps):

her DAUGHTER comes home from COLLEGE and READS MY EMAILS and has a melt down about anyone jerking off to her mother at the 3:41 mark.

the mother WORRIES about the DAUGHTER'S MELT DOWN and is EMBARRASSED and it's wiped on ME.

now, i'd combed through my DESIRE for fleas and lice already. i was clean as a newborn baby's love and desire to reach out for a large breasted woman with long black hair first thing in the morning.

i was PURE of heart.

so a little less elegant than i would've hoped, i raged in public social media crap and their shutters closed.

but i'm bleeding out of too many other holes, so everyone's really gotta cut me some slack on my lack of elegance.

so that mind fuck at that part, netted this important information (that also allowed me to cut things off where they were with how i am):

she is in crisis because in all that she created and in all the magic of the life she has, she forgot what got to be hers. she forgot that she's not like other people. the things others need to feel safe, will make her die and kill others.

if you get this, i know you get it; if you don't, i know you're probably not even here. those who don't get it, and are still here, are in the fascinating process of REMEMBERING what they forgot they already know!

that's cool. when we can show that to each other and not feel so insane.

and things are often simpler than we think.

okay, so in this situation, the mind fuck netted out some issues that need to be dealt with first, before she can see herself, and then see her man.

women have a lot of really fucked up lessons about what is theirs and what belongs to the world,
BECAUSE SO DOES THE WORLD.

this is why i'm a recluse these days. i can be bled dry before i get to the car if i'm not careful.

and how can you take mindful mind fucking advice from a recluse who jerks off all the time?

i don't know. that's why i say we're just talkin', here. shootin' the shit.

so anyhow, the far, far away woman and the far, far away man--

we all still love each other, and will find new ways of creating and strengthening our friendship in a mindful way.

they're keepers.

and sometimes you have to push the keepers away right away so they know what's at stake.

how important this is to you.

and that's how they also TRUST you to do what needs to be done,

even when it breaks your heart.

you have to love beyond yourself.

for the kids, as well. but so that the girls will be strong and also have the ability to be queens and create their worlds they can safely swagger through with dignity and heart. they will know better how to protect themselves as we learn and teach them.

i am a reclusive lover who must play with all my food before i eat it, because i am a responsible lover first and foremost. 

i have a taste for the extremes, and have been forged in the fucking abyss. i can take a lot, and i don't want to needlessly hurt or frighten or unwrap people who are not prepared.

i don't want to wreak havoc and devastation wherever i go. 

i want to be like the johnny appleseed of mindful mind fucks, because you all are looking at screens entirely too much and making up personas that have no basis in any carbon based fucking LIFE FORM. 

"nuance" is not a paranormal fucking experience. it's the COMPLEXITY OF LIFE AND PEOPLE.

and when the lady in the far, far away land gently forced me to take TINY bites of chocolate in between sips of espresso and held my eyes and watched every fucking twitch and reaction in a room full of late-night diners, i felt tied to one of those marble columns, nude, like her tongue was drawing the outside of my lips and doing a contour drawing down my body in front of EVERYONE.

and i couldn't look away. i couldn't stop, after the first few embarrassed giggles from me.

she didn't smile. she was firm. just sat there. and had my hands tied the whole time with her words.

and i looked at her husband, and he was having a conversation with someone i once wanted to make a fucking MOVIE with, and even with HALF his attention on us, he KNEW what had happened and he smiled and i knew she'd not married for money or comfort, but love, passion, and EVERYTHING.

(to be clear about the complexity of us all--even though she's pragmatic for having daughters, she's an entrepreneur and he's too passionate for her to have ever considered money with this man. i think she knew she'd lucked out onto her equal in some way. he doesn't yet know he's her equal in mystical powerful things. he thinks he's in her back draft and it's no longer honorable to her, but frustrating because it no longer "serves" as it once did. i don't know what i'm even "writing". it's just coming out, but it "feels" right.

and i'll also say that such women are usually MORE than money. they're magic because they fucking make the people who can not only make money but make things happen. they know this. certain --usually high level men---know this. it's actually an archaic secret system that's been rendered sleazy and meaningless in a cartoon way)

and in that look of only a fraction of his awareness/presence, i also knew HIM. i knew that he was a king, a god. he was one of "the big ones." the men who live alone, above everyone else in their intensity and almost sorcery-like way of making things come into being. 

and they had found each other and he forgot what he was. he thought she was "it." the mistress he must serve. but she needed to be at his feet for a change and sleep. 

this is all silly sounding, but if you've ever been loved in that archaic devotional way, it's timeless. 

everything written on parchment and carved in stone and bled onto cave walls suddenly makes sense.

it's speaking in tongue and dying as you were and being re-born. 

and the person that i wanted to make a FUCKING MOVIE with, was there at the table.

and didn't notice a fucking THING.

too many SCREENS you all! nuance/complexity/contradiction in human interaction is not a haunting!

and i saw how dead (i thought "grounded" before) this producer was,

and thanked my lucky stars i can't always have what i thought i wanted.

when you live for the other option over money,

you might find yourself also arguing vehemently with yourself when no one's looking.

anyhow, i still adore them. in fact, when the lady in the far, far away land wrote to me, i had to sit on my hands to keep from writing anything crazy back and looking for one of those porns i'd be jerking off to her at the 3:41 mark.

see, i may be able to recognize these sex goddesses who hover among us and try to dull their glow as they walk among us humans. i'm not one of them even though i've learned from them. i'm the quasi modo girl who limps around with a shorter leg, and gets to disinfect the peep show booths!

i really am a stray from robert crumb's darker cartoon land where we jerk off to our own stick figures and won't leave the house once we learn how to draw accurate anatomy.

this is how i ended up also saving time by adding phone sex to the mindful mind fuck. that's kind of essential for me now.

it started when i was 18 or 19 and ordering a pair of sneakers over the phone, and ended up with my legs in the air at 3am, jerking off to a fifty-something year old guy with a southern accent who took my order and wanted to talk dirty to me instead.

between that and the hitachi magic wand, i knew i'd have enough free time from having to court actual visitors, that i could be a hot shot artist like jean michele basquiat and be smart enough to avoid the circle jerk that kills us all.

(ha!)

more later.

e