the art of the mindful mind fuck," continued...

okay, so back to this woman in a far, far away land and my mind fucking her to see the perimeters of the experience...

(ah! "perimeters" is a brilliant word for all this because i do so love anything with boundaries in a terrifyingly boundless world.)

i also learned how to mind fuck better and better because where i DO live my childhood hang ups on the outside, is that i can't handle very much chaos, drama, or emotional instability in my own home as an adult. (back to saving and RESPECTING one's precious energy as if it were a tiny precious civilian on your island you're responsible for taking care of. and not abusing.)

nothing's linear. editors of all kinds who try--and often succeed--- to make artists' brains palatable to you all, are fucking miracle workers.

so again, find your own cashmere. we must all dig for ourselves or we're pussies and can't blame anyone but ourselves.

anyhow, so our lesson in non-linear fashion continues...



so here i am in a far, far away land, off my turf and a guest in someone's home, and at the dinner table i start to get an inkling that this means more to my female friend than i knew:

one of her daughters at college was prepared to hate me because she thought i was breaking up the family, and the husband was impressing upon me how jealous he was---as if it were a failing.

as aware as i may seem here in retrospect, in real life i'm oblivious to so many things.

so i've learned to try and see better in reverse. (this is all advanced stuff. we're starting at the top of what i know and working backwards)

that means that even as i'm oblivious or chatting in a moment, the next day i can be quiet and leaf back through a day before to truly take it in.

this is living and seeing on multiple levels, and pulling them back out like files when you need it. artists do it all the time. we all do. and there is where reality is shaky and we can give in to fantasy, faulty memories, instead of our wiser intuitions.

that's why you have to beat the shit out of yourself and your true intentions to see what's really left behind. i don't see how you can face your own desires with legs crossed in some micro-fiber calm meditation. our true desires love beat downs and bright lights or they'll coo adorably in the shadows and keep you eternally by the short hairs.

anyhow,
so at the dinner table i promise to the husband, not knowing that this had even been a possibility, that i would never do anything with his wife without his permission or awareness.

and when he looked down and nodded with something i can't describe---deep gratitude? but it was proud or very, very deep and raw--i knew i'd walked into the middle of something bigger going on already.

so here i am.

far, far away in another land. beautiful woman, big tits, looooong black hair, even brings me coffee up three flights of wide, carpeted stairs to wake me in a massive king sized bed with white cotton sheets and more than a half dozen pillows and i'm going to sleep and waking up and stretching my body across the world to the sounds of horse hooves out in the misty morning and i've got a deep tub to myself with heated towels and candles and i'm off scaring myself to shit in life which is the biggest fucking aphrodisiac ever....

and this woman brings me up coffee in a wrap bathrobe?

i have to wake up first and get my game face on before i can pretend that's just not the most combustible fucking combination EVER....

and all with the big bed/cotton white sheets... fuck failure. this is all my favorite set up as it's like visiting mt. olympus while the gods are away, and she's straight, got two grown daughters trying to claw their way back inside her--and i see, often times with her help---

and i don't know what to do with all this.

and i was polite and white but now we're talking for real?

and she's one of me? and her husband and i are like long lost brother and sister. i rarely feel this way about certain men and handle it well. jeffrey hicken's more like a brother to me than james, and i was trying to get all up in jeffrey when i first met him.

(apparently "nuance" is also lost to me, and is like ghosts.)

see, for me, adoration in action is my achilles heel. it's the switch that turns me on like a fucking light. i'm so easy. (this is why i also avoid people. to the salespeople it's OBVIOUS)

anyhow, she's one of me. which means i know it's not really that she's "in love" with me. at least not as you mere mortals (smile) mean it.

people like us can move in and out through love. it is an art, a powerful art, and we're not in charge of anything. in fact, to love is to surrender. that shit i'm getting more and more.

but i'm not even sure i know what that means. that's more of my "insane" stuff. in fact, i'll re-write INSANE without cute bunny rabbit quotes. those quotes STAB because the truth is that a lot of the stuff i say, believe, or write, i myself don't yet get or necessarily even agree with.

i argue with ideas all the time and come out wrong. that's why i say we're just shooting the shit here. i'm full of crap.

this is all more stories to add to more stories.

none of this means anything until you live it. that's the truth. it's like mixing epoxy with two things to make it a solid bond.

anyhow, so i've gotta sit there with all these ideas.

even platonically, she made me feel like a superhero friend. it's nice to be with a strong woman who can top me and i can relax with.

outside.

however, my body told me that in private, she'd need to be dominated. she wanted to be pulled by her hair and fucked until she sobbed in a heap on the carpeted floor.

she wanted to be taken in the shower and left draped half on the floor and half in the tub.

she didn't know where she'd gone wrong with the magic and making her life.
she'd done the magic.
she'd tasted the chocolate with the coffee and made it sex in public.

she taught me how to have chocolate melt in your mouth between sips of coffee.
she knew that when i gave her the almost liquid eye of my red steak that i'd cut her the best.
i hadn't even noticed or done it on purpose for fanfare.
i just said, "wait--here..." and taken the knife to cut her a piece myself.
and it was SHE who had the words for what i did and she said that as she chews a mouthful of blood, she and i will know what i did.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, THAT is magic.

and i knew what he had married and i knew how she'd made him, brought him back from the dead.

and we all kissed hard kissed good-bye when i got back in the cab to go,
and i knew they loved me.

and i went back home to my far, far away land to figure out how the Mindful Mind Fuck could help the beautiful magical woman with the big breasts and the long black hair.

i couldn't want her for myself.
she didn't WANT me.
whether she knew it or not.

as i admitted, i was blunt with jeffrey when i knew we had to be connected artistically forever SOMEHOW.

so, inspired by the snakefucker (the only mind fucker BETTER than me. so good, he's a fucking natural and nearly made me go screaming insane through the streets. now i KNOW what it can be like! good and bad.)

anyhow, inspired by the snakefucker, i sent the woman in the far far away land porn clips of things that i was imagining doing to her while jerking off.

now that i was safely away from the immediacy of a white trash ending, i jerked off to her mercilessly and came clean about it to her husband.

she was polite, as were all her people in this far, far away land.

but she didn't know this wasn't the regular game between men and women. no. this was scarier. more intent with purpose.

i could only be aroused by her if she bowed down to whatever i wanted to do to her.

so there. who's your sympathetic character NOW?

life is complicated and i'm getting used to always coming out the asshole.

but as i said about not getting what i'm on about until later, often MUCH later, now that i see how i need to be brought down humbly and at the mercy of life, but that it is erotic because it is also erotic to fight, to be sadistic, to win, to realize you're full of crap, to lose, to realize that's more of the same crap, and then you realize...

anyhow, i deleted what i thought i realized because it always turns on itself and i realize nada.

anyhow, mindful mind reading.

i knew that the goal had to be to break her like a crab (that's the goal of any good love affair or art endeavour) so get to the good stuff, but that my job as her sister, is to hold her up to herself.

because in "listening in hindsight" (being aware on different levels, as carefully as you can), i remembered that she was always worried about being liked and i never felt that she was the woman she really was, with me.

whereas her husband was strongly naked in his vulnerability.

i could SEE his beaten down strength in the shadows, just waiting to be called on.

and i saw us ALL.

and i went, "wow... what a fucking waste."

and again, i see us ALL.

anyhow, so while i can i my flippant (unreal) pig-like way say, "yes, it's easier to have an away-game affair because you can manage and keep your life neat."

but i don't think love affairs should keep your life neat if you do them well (why i don't want to play with folks who have kids. i'm archaic that way.).

but i DO fall in love when i pay attention to someone's soul. how can you NOT???
when someone looks at you vulnerably and you can learn and help each other and have superhero adventures?

fuckin' hell. tap into that and you can fall in love with damn near anyone.

fuck bisexuality. just try inspiring your own playmates!

this is what it is to "make" people, teach, inspire, etc.

it's an energy thing. you can feel when you leave them tired in a bad way, or jumping on to whatever's next.

anyhow, so i can't just be a meat dog here.

on the surface anything is made sleazy today.

but EVERYTHING has a holiness. EVERYTHING because so does EVERYONE.
it's all the stories we make up. the context.

anyhow, so i have to ask:

"do i have the ability to take her over, and bring her back to herself so that she can remember the point of love? surrender and letting go."

and i did.

but in the mind fuck process, i had to see where she was with her kids.

when someone's kids are standing between you and their body parts,
move on or you're always gonna be second fiddle.

and this is back to the queen stuff.

even if you've got 12 lovers, when i'm with you, no one else can exist.
i can only see pretty things.
and i must be adored.
it is the light switch.

anything else and we're just patting backs down at the corner bar.

more later.
tired of writing/thinking.

it's all philosophy with actual events, thinking, and seeing inner and outer.
many, many levels.
trying to be thoughtful is so exhausting.

i mean, as you get more sure of your codes and how you wanna be, it's like using a clutch.

it's really hard and silly to even write about this stuff.
it's all so simple but so hard.
eeek!
i'm turning into some dime store yoda.

e