October 2003 Archives
What kind of candy would you like?
Do not be afraid, My Darling, when I come to you in the night.
I found myself wondering how you would react to my black car in your driveway when you woke up in the morning...
Naturally, writing the last post, this lyric came to mind:
"..I had a dream last night,
And she fit me like a glove..."
From the Butthole Surfers song Whatever.
Well, all of my dreams are strange—really.
This one wasn't so long, but it was vivid. Or at least I remember this one.
I was watching a TV screen or something, which began to show pornographic images. Of course.
It was some sort of surreally, unnaturally evenly lit outdoors scene.
Superimposed on which were static images of nude women, posed like in men's magazines.
One woman the "camera" lingered on, slowly panning. She an oriental woman with short, dark hair. She was on her back, one knee bent and the other in the air. Her back was arched and she was in a spray of water. Her mouth open as if in extasy.
The next scene was a more forested area with tall, tall trees. The ground a reddish clay. One woman bent over washing herself in a stream, her ass and pussy facing me. Two other women moving away into the woods as if on all fours, asses in the air...
It was odd, there were women sort of superimposed or collaged into the scene all over. But in this scene the emphasis was definitely on the ass and pussy.
The next thing I remember is being "in" a scene. Some room I can only vaguely recall and my reason for being there now completely lost.
A woman was bent over on front of me ans I was tonguing her pussy. I vivdly recall the sensation of her pussy on my tongue. The way her pussy-lips felt as I licked them. The sensation of my tongue sliding into her wetness.
And then I became aware of the alarm going off.
Which, naturally, makes me wonder what could have been.
I dozed a little after that, but did not return to that place.
How disappointing.
What I like about Laurel's descriptions is the way in which the urge for sexual union and completion is so powerful. It must be requited. Saying "No" to it hurts.
I've wept holding back lust.
It's just that in the few times I've been completely in the throes, it has felt like the ardeur, as she describes it.
With Windows Server 2003, Apache, and Perl. Got MT running on Windows. Because I can.
If only my ISP would not be blocking ports at the moment. Seems to be sporadic. I think.
Anyway, that's not sexy at all.
Yesterday I was zoning.
Tuesday I was at a craptacular major-vendor software release.
I don't know what my problem was on Monday.
Well, anyway... It takes time for me to adjust to new circumstances.
Being unemployed again.
I know, I know... poor me.
All I'm saying is that things throw me for a loop and it takes me a while to feel like myself again.
So I'm starting to feel like myself again.
Want to play?
Because it sounds like something I did recently.
And the other thing is, I think it would be erotic as hell to fuck your beautiful mouth while I look into your eyes.
There, I said it.
I just went to the CSS Zen Garden, which got me to thinking about the design here.
Downloaded Mozilla and Firebird to check on things. I'll be damned if it ain't busted.
Why didn't you tell me?
Me, too.
I was hit hard by paranoia. It's no excuse...
Whispers in my ear.
Kisses on my neck.
Make me spasm.
By way of answering your question, let me say that this boy doesn't really have physical or emotional boundaries.
I'm not saying I ever fantasized about being grabbed by a strange woman, but I don't take any physical contact lightly. I would make assumptions, namely that you would be interested in more contact, and would be watching you to confirm or disprove my thoughts.
Would I grab you back?
Oh, no.
But I might tease you about how that was a fine how-do-you-do after first feigning shock or outrage.
Or:
I could see just turning to face you, making eye-contact, and cocking my head to the side a bit.
But you would have my attention.
Then what would you do?
Er, yeah...
Spent the morning masturbating the hell out of myself.
Is the result of unemployment, a fast internet connection... and other exciting factors.
I feel peaceful, if not a little sore...
Good morning.
You made me feel warm inside.
Sleep is a wonderful thing.
Slept for another 10 hours. 'Til I couldn't sleep more if I wanted to.
The danger with that is I start to feel hyper-alive.
And I don't want to go to bed.
Jobless again. Friday was my last day contracting.
Sad. Sad. Sad.
Saying good bye again.
I slept 14 hours.
Trying to rid myself of caffeine yet again. Keeping the pain reliever handy. And the distraction of good books.
I'm cocooning a bit. Sort of self-indulgent, I know.
I miss you.
Drink of me.
That's a little of what it's like in this skin.
God.
Laurell Hamilton. Narcissus in Chains.
I like it more and more.
It never occurred to me that stylesheets could be witty. Not 'til I saw yours.
I can't do it now because I could only be seen as imitating.
I want to be cool, too.
Dammit.
Thank you for raising the bar.
But I'll get all the hits for witty stylesheets.
I'm not bitter.
Was the last post too much like "Daddy 'pank?"
I'm considering deleting it altogether.
Seemed like a good idea at the time.
You have every right to say what you want to say.
You can't take responsibility for how other people react. It has nothing to do with your qualities as a person.
Now I realize violate conventions by using posts to speak directly to an individual, which does tend to mix things up more than a little...
But please do this for me: If you have something to say to me, which does not apply directly to a given post (or to a comment on one of my posts), then please use either email or chat.
I read email when I can, and when I'm online I am usually in Yahoo, MSN, and AOL all at once so I should not be hard to find. My addresses are all above. And if I didn't want you to use them, I wouldn't have put them where anyone on the 'net could see them.
Believe me, I *love* it when you perv me up make me quiver chat with me.
Please.
For me.
Thank you. I knew you would understand.
Damn, I didn't realize working so much was going to be so hard on me.
Suffice it to say, I'm beat. Really beat.
Other than that, feeling well though.
And thanks for all of the messages when I finally logged back into chat this morning!
OMG!
I shot because you wanted to see me shoot it, but the lighting was all wrong.
Worked up quite a sweat...
Operating two hand-helds is God-damned tricky.
You can't do both well. Or I can't.
I know now what I must do.
It involves a monitor and watching myself.
So for now, you'll just have to use your imagination.
You have to hold me accountable if I got to play and you didn't...
Been trying to categorize all of my old posts. I've done about 150 in the last 12 hours.
It takes time because it's a web-based interface. Because I read the post again to give it a title.
The Typepad import tool grabbed words from the first line to give a title to all of my old Blogger posts—which were never titled originally.
It's kind of fun, in a way. Knowing what I meant to say when I wrote the posts.
Then I can make the titles witty, or I can make them part of the flow of the post, or use the title to elucidate what would otherwise be obtuse.
Because I eschew obfuscation.
But I digress.
What I mean is, it's a way to recreate what I had written. Polish.
But I have edited nothing, save grammar, spelling and the like. Not the words.
Although I can't help wanting to add layers of meaning.
It's just my way.
The secondary result of this work is that you can see more and more what the categories really mean to me. And maybe, if you've been a long-time reader, figure out what I was really saying. And perhaps to whom.
But maybe you already knew.
++
Wheels are spinning.
+++
When parts of posts disappear, I feel like I've missed something...
Will you wear it?
Do you think there's a market?
That was the best compliment ever.
Are you squirming in your chair, lover?
Like you make me squirm?
Do I make you wet like you make me hard?
'Cause you know I want to make that pussy mine.
I want to touch you hard and soft. Back and forth. Around.
Spread you open.
Spread your wetness.
Fuck you with my fingers.
While I look in your eyes.
While I kiss you hard.
While I suck your nipples.
I want to put my mouth over you and rule you with my tongue.
Do you want that?
I want to suck you in so hard your labia move.
Then lay the flat of my tongue against you.
Rub long, slow, wet rubs.
Then flick my tongue.
Teasing at first.
Then not teasing.
Shoving fingers inside you.
You're so fucking wet.
Sucking and swirling and flicking.
And I'll take a nipple, too.
Rolling it firmly.
Fucking you with my fingers.
I want you to come hard, baby.
I'm not done with you.
You are so mine.
Come, baby.
Pressing my fingers up.
Rubbing right.
Come, baby.
Come.
Come.
Come.
Mmmm.
That's my beautiful girl.
When you say I'm bad.
When you say I'm dark.
Makes me want to do bad things.
Invariably, my thoughts lead to the same place.
And I wish I had days to spend.
I did it to myself.
I got all perved up at work today because I went to flipside and read this post.
The facility that the company moved to is smaller, and therefore denser and busier. Otherwise I might have... Well I might have jerked off in the bathroom.
It's just that good.
She has a lovely banner graphic, too—don't you think?
Yeah, so... I had a 9:00 appointment this morning.
But I woke up at about 10:15. Because the phone was ringing, because the woman I had the appointment with called my house to reschedule. God bless her.
Told my boss yesterday that I would be in at about 11:00. And, see, that was already shot to hell because because at 10:15 I should have been in my car on the way to my job.
So I took my shower, left for work, grabbed lunch at BK, and got almost too... the old location.
Yeah, way the fuck out of the way.
So, I got to work at about 12:20.
Good morning!
I would celebrate your darkness and your light.
It's not fair that you can only really be part of who you are.
If I could only.
Hearing you come.
Tell me.
That ball gag looks good in your mouth.
Having a fistfull of your hair is pretty hot.
Making you ask for it.
When your ass is in the air and your face is in the pillow.
Here I come, baby. Open your mouth.
Your crimson mouth.
When your breasts are close to me.
Corsets.
Heels. Strappy or mules or pumps. Even the clear ones.
Seeing glimpses of skin. Your chest, your back, your legs.
Your hips.
I need to be at work right this minute.
I called my boss to tell him I would be late.
Woke him up.
He needs to be there right now, too.
I have to shower and shave and it's still gonna be at least a 45-minute drive.
Yeah, thats right...
I'm bad.
There is so much more to say.
I need time.
Time and sleep!
Got in about 9:30 this morning. Went off the clock at 11:30 at night.
Tied up loose ends. Forty-five minute drive home. Take care of a couple of things at home.
Got to be in at 7:30.
I am so spent.
Good night, my love.
I always have someone in mind when I post.
And I mean what I say, although vagueness and misinterpretation lead to misunderstandings...
And I will try very hard to make it clear that it is you that I mean when I am speaking.
I get sad when I don't get it right.
When you say that he makes you cry, I get very angry. And I wonder what is so hard for him to understand.
True, I don't know him and I only see your side of things. But sometimes I want to clock him.
There. I said it.
I'm helping a company move its IT infrastructure. Which is wierd enough.
But the company is one I who previously employed me full-time. And wierder still is that it's moving to a facility it was located in 4 years ago.
Moving into that building became like I had never left.
Several places where I had worked in the building still resonated with me. Desks even being where they used to be.
Old file cabinets still having paperwork from the previous occupation.
It's just really surreal. Really, really surreal.
Spent 12 and a half hours moving furniture and servers. I'm going to play for a few minutes and crash. Have to be there at 9:00 tomorrow morning, and tomorrow will be a day that does not end until absolutely everything works.
Love.
Hey, I just got home. I'm dead tired. Need to be back at work in 6 and a half hours.
Good night, Gracie.
Some spam is just easier to look at. Case in point:
I am such a male.
Shhhh... It's OK.
You're mine now.
I want to know everything.
Because I want it to be perfect.
This is such a stupid fucking waste of my time. Right now I am literally paid to sit on my ass. Cushy? I resent it. Being told there is a list of things for me to work on and then not being given that list.
Herding cats. This company is a herd of cats.
Hello?
Maybe I'll just look for a real job.
"Beer and carbohydrates" you say...
::tilts head and taps index finger on lips::
Whatever for?
So good, baby!
So good...
Tonight, I was zooming home in the dark.
The freeway I was on being lightly travelled.
70
My preferred velocity.
Do you remember that coin-op game called "Speed Freak." It was back in the day of Space War, Space Invaders and Missile Command. Yeah, that long ago.
This was a driving game. Basically white lines on a black screen.
Racer-styled steering wheel. Lo-High gear shift. Accelerator and brake pedals.
Stay on the wickedly careening road. Avoid the street signs and oddly shaped cars and geometric cows.
When you crashed, some terrible bang would sound and lines would appear on screen as though the windshield was cracked.
Use the steering wheel to enter your initials. Right. Like you're going to make the top score.
The northern stretch of this north-south throughfare is under construction. It will soon be another smooth, wide, automobile-friendly, concrete no-man's land.
But now, at night, the road is black and the lines are white and the jersey barriers lie just on the outside of your lane.
How fast are you?
Because the road changes every few days.
And I drive quickly enough to be afraid. Very afraid.
Hug those turns tight. Dart between the mini-vans and SUVs.
The object is, at a minimum, to avoid using the brake pedal.
You want to put the gear selector on high?
Try to maintain a constant speed.
Bonus points for staying on the gas and for every car you pass.
Reckless.
Got another token?
Muscle car driver
Desert plain
Gray sky
And dust
When we go
Over the cliff
Let go of the wheel
And kiss me
That server I spent all night working on? Not needed.
Which is good of course.
But like so much of the rest of the effort I've put into this place.
I'm going to go look at geek toys at Best Buy.
Then, if I'm smart, I'll go straight to bed.
If I'm horny... well... I'll be online.
I was packing up my director's office today. She's out on an extended leave. Long story.
One of the things I put away in its pristine original packaging was a clear plastic ruler.
About 16 inches long. An inch and a half wide.
And it made me wonder if you've been good or if you've been bad.
And then I realized it wouldn't matter.
I'm so hard for you.
I've got you by the handfull.
In person, I tend to present a wholesome face—if somewhat unkempt. Soft-spoken to a fault.
The fact is, nothing anyone does really shocks me or makes me think less of them.
What shocks me is when things happen to me. What shocks me is my reaction to things. What shocks me is how intense emotions can be.
I mean, emotions are frighteningly strong, which is a rush—but emotions will often wash away what logic and objectivity I might otherwise have had.
Which means I do rash things. Sometimes vindictive and provocative.
Often I'm very, very angry.
Anger fuels me in a way that nothing else does.
Except lust. Lust is the trump card.
When I feel lust for you, there is nothing else. There is only now.
For the most part, I'm a nice guy.
But that's the sugar coating.
Under that, well... there is a mass of seething energy that is neither nice nor gentle.
The question is do you want to crack the shell?
And when I come flooding out, do you like it when things get a little messy?
You gave yourself.
That is the most amazing thing in the world.
Damn. Still in the server room. No chat clients. Only browsers on server consoles.
The overwhelming white noise of the room chillers. And cooling fans running in every piece of hardware. And disk drives spinning. 5400 RPM. 7200 RPM. 10000 RPM.
And very even flourescent lighting.
The security cameras can see you, but no one can hear you scream.
Loopy. Me. Going.
Ok Dammit. Done installing NT4. Can't install security client without more information, but installer is copied locally—to be ready.
I've done everything else I can to update the system with the latest everything. There better not be any problems!
I really need to sleep.
Servers are not sexy.
I want you.
This one's for you when you know what you want.
This one's for you when you can't imagine yourself any other way.
This one's for you when you're not sorry.
And this one's for me because fuck if I'm not still at work.
| Disorder | Rating |
| Paranoid: | Low |
| Schizoid: | Low |
| Schizotypal: | Moderate |
| Antisocial: | Low |
| Borderline: | Low |
| Histrionic: | Moderate |
| Narcissistic: | Low |
| Avoidant: | High |
| Dependent: | Low |
| Obsessive-Compulsive: | Moderate |
— Personality Disorder Test - Take It! — | |
I am being treated for depression. I have had a few major bouts with it. The first time I was treated, I was given Imiprimine. Imiprimine was one of the first antidepressant medications ceated. It was harsh. It made me feel hazy, plus it felt as if my brain was forcefully wrenched into a state where there was very little emotional fluctutation. After about a year, I stopped taking it cold. I reached a point where I had enough. Didn't think I needed it. I highly DO NOT recommend deciding to do that.
At the same time, I learned conclusively that I had Attention Deficit Disorder. People who do not have ADD cannot imagine that it exists, except perhaps if they have loved ones who have had it. Just the same as people who are not depressed can't imagine why depressed people can't cheer up.
Anyway, the meds for ADD were not too useful to me at the time. I think that had a lot to do with the Imiprimine. I had to fight through the fog to begin with.
The other problem was dosage. Imiprimine was easy, once or twice a day. Dexedrine for ADD sucked. I was taking doses three or four times a day. When I could remember to take them. And I hated that I kept missing doses. What an exercise in frustration that was!
While it was a huge relief to finally understand why I am the way I am, at the time it also felt like a curse. Because then I understood there were some things I would never be able to do well, that I would have to alter my life to compensate for some things. Didn't seem fair.
Well, I quit the Dex at the same time as the Imiprimine. Didn't feel like the psychiatrist really understood what I was saying. Plus, I should have been seing a counselor. In case you're confused, a psychiatrist is not a therapist with a couch like you might think of someone like Freud. A psychiatrist will determine a course of treatment for you, and is interested in your healing process, but he or she is largely not be the one to whom you reveal your personal problems. Except during diagnosis. And that's very brief—likely a single visit. Subsequent visits to a psychiatrist will be to monitor the progress of treatment. Are the drugs working? Is talk-therapy proving beneficial? Then a decision will be made to continue the current course of treatment or to change it in some way. I didn't understand the role of the psychiatrist then, which was another reason I was frustrated.
Following 9/11 and one or two other precipitating events, I became suicidal. This time I was a little smarter. Communicated better with my psychiatrist. Told him what I thought didn't work in my previous treatment. And also, there are more effective drugs now in some cases.
Wellbutrin has been hugely beneficial to me in terms of treating the depression. And I started talk-therapy. The first therapist I saw made me feel a little better about myself, but wasn't helping me make significant changes. So I chose to see a different one. One of the smartest things I've ever done. He give me some new ways to look at my treatment and my life. Gave me ways I could change things on my own. Made me responsible for my state of mind in ways that were very constructive. While the Wellbutrin took the edge off my depression, my therapist helped me to combat the thoughts that took me there and had kept me there.
I'm staying on the Wellbutrin. It's been more than a year since I started. I can typically remember my two doses—although sometimes I remember very late. What happens to me when I miss a dose or get off schedule is proof enough for me that I need to stay on it. I firmly believe that it has saved my life.
Also, Adderal is *the* drug for ADD. I've used Ritalin and I've used Dexedrine, but they don't help as much. And I operate in a fashion that is much closer to "normal" when it's in my system. So I'm keeping that, too. The only thing I might do differently is switch to a timed-release version. I'll talk with my psychiatrist when it's time for him to evaluate my dosage. There is another new drug I'm curious about, but I worry a lot about the potential side-effects.
I'm not currently seeing a therapist. We (I) decided that we were done with working on the things I was willing to discuss with him. I had enough tools and confidence to try going it alone. And I don't regret that at all. I still have other issues for which I may still seek talk-therapy, but I'm OK enough for now.
I'll wait until I'm working full time for a while before I decide on another course.
The quiz above is interesting, but does not take certain illnesses into account. In particular ADD, which has symptoms in common with other problems, although it often exists with other problems. My depressive tendencies are an example. The anxiety I feel in social situations is another.
Best thing I can say is never dismiss another person's problems. If he or she trusts you enough to talk to you about them, the least you can do is listen. Encourage them to seek help. And if the help isn't the right kind, encourage them to seek the right kind.
And if you need help, don't wait. You're worth it. Your life is worth it. There is a way.
At least I think I do.
You're so beautiful.
Thank you.
Disclaimer:
I took my second dose of meds late. When the meds run low in my system, every subtle shift of my emotions feels like the earth is moving, exhilarating in the most profoundly self-destructive way.
...
I swear to God I feel like the universe is mocking me. In the immensity of the cosmos the most gentle nudge sending me careening.
It's just that I didn't take my meds right?
Christ.
I swear to God I can sense when she's near. It's a palpable sensation. I spent most of the day in my office. Underground and out of the way. On a Saturday even. And I remember feeling like I should walk by her office. Which is remarkable in that I try very hard for there to be no circumstances in which we meet. Ever.
This sounds so stupid even as I write it. Making completely illogical connections between unrelated facts.
Like I knew she was there.
All I know for sure is that her car was in the parking lot when I left. It means nothing. It is a simple fact for which there is nothing more to be gleaned.
And yet the gold car was there next to hers, as if to hammer the point home completely.
Ah, coincidence. Nothing is meant, but everything is inferred. Thank you for nothing.
Silly sad little boy. Wait for your meds to take hold. Then you can laugh at yourself.
Or curl up in shame at your weakness.
No.. no.. I just got something in my eye. I swear.
Sweet, sweet Succubus,
Drink of me. Take what is yours to receive.
All that I am.
"Hello."
"Yeah, it's been a while..."
"Not much. How 'bout you?"
"I'm not sure why I called. I guess I really just wanted to talk to you."
"I was thinking maybe later on we could get together for a while. It's been such a long time and I really do miss your smile."
"I'm not talkin' 'bout movin' in. And I don't want to change your life... But there's a warm wind blowin' the stars around and I'd really love to see you tonight."
-Dan Seals
...Afternoon delight!
Three...
Two...
One...
Damn!
All revved up and I'm at work. Again.
I was here until the wee hours of the morning, as at least one person can attest.
Was supposed to be back at 10:00, but was more like 10:45.
Ended up not being a big deal, though.
There's some major stuff happening here. Lots of logistics. Lots of sweat. And some of it is even work. ;)
Mmm. How I wish:
Lovely Saturday afternoon and all the time in the world. Such good trouble we could have.
Feel the burn, baby!
This rocket's got a lot of fuel!
I've been listening a lot lately to what I think was Smashing Pumpkins' first album. I'm pretty sure it was their first major-label release anyway. Gish. 1991.
We used to listen to it in the record store then.
I forgot how good it is. It has a lot of what is exactly right with Rock and Roll.
Funny thing is I parked next to a car at work that was the same model as the one my manager from that store drove: A white Ford Crown Victoria with a red pin-stripe.
At the time I drove a Suzuki Swift. He used to joke that he could put it in his trunk and give me a lift if I needed it.
I miss him.
I miss that job.
I don't miss that university town. Much. The one bookstore was fun, though.
Hmm. Another life...
I was fairly overcome with erotic urges this afternoon. It's amazing to me how real words on a screen can be. I was filled with visions of being seduced, slowly, in my office. For the way I felt and the way my body was reacting it might just as well have happened.
Underneath my desk, I began massaging my cock through the denim of my jeans. That was actually a first. I've never done that before. Not at work. I continuned to do it as I was alone in my office. It felt good and it felt very, very naughty.
When I realized I felt pre-come on my leg—I figured I better ease up a bit. The last thing I wanted was a dark stain in my pants. Right there.
However, I was compelled to complete the act. You understand? I had to.
Suddenly I am walking to the least-visited men's room on campus. I blithely passed through a secure doorway for which I had no key. Would have once upon a time... Of course that could be dealt with later. I was on a mission.
Thank God, the room was empty and clean and there was nothing... distasteful to shut out.
So as soon as I had closed and locked the door to the stall I had chosen (the one all the way against the far wall), my hand went into my fly and I pulled cock out.
I was single-mindedly determined to just get off.
There was nothing smooth or suave or sensual about it. I primarily massaged the head of my cock with much vigor. Soon, because I was otherwise afraid of losing my balance, I bent my knees and leaned back a bit.
So there I was in the stall, with an open fly and an erect cock—and one hand masturbating the hell out of it. I'm a lefty by the way. Actually works well for surfing porn.
I seriously like to get my hips into action when I stroke myself off. It feels better to move. I come harder.
So let's see, furious fist action, grinding hips, and oh yes— you were taking me there.
In my minds eye your soft, warm lips and hot wet tongue were teasing the end of my cock while one of your hands slid up and down the slick length of my shaft. Your other hand massaging and rubbing and tugging on my balls. Jesus you're good.
The wierd thing was (if you take away the fact that I'm musturbating in a public restroom, and that masturbating at work is sketchy anyways) the way I came. The sensation I'm used to is fairly explosive. Utterly mindblowing for a few short seconds, then quickly dissipating.
What happened instead is that when I thought I was coming, I shot twice. Two little spurts. Then the ejaculation stopped but the sensation kept growing. About 20 seconds later I realized I was having the real orgasm. I felt the beginnings of the sensation that tells you that you're about come all over the place.
But I couldn't tell you how many jets shot out of me or where they went. I don't know if my eyes were open or closed. I don't remember hearing anything. All I know for sure is that I kept stroking my cock because it felt so fucking good. All I wanted was to stroke my cock because it felt so fucking good.
I'm used to the fireworks kind of orgasm. I'm used to shooting four, five, maybe six or so times and game over...
But this was like a powerful wave travelling the ocean shore. You hear it coming and it gets really loud by you and then the noise slowly fades into the background. That's how it was. It started low and slow but turned into my entire body quivering and my toes curled up in my shoes like I'm trying to cling to the earth for dear life. At some point thought returned because I realized the wave had peaked. Even though orgasm ending is always a bit of a let-down, I do cherish that wonderfully pleasant wash of good that is put on everything that happens for a while afterword.
God bless privacy.
Thank God no one else came into the bathroom. It was just me and you.
Although I cleaned up aftermyself pretty well, I left one drop of cum on the floor...
Sorry I went away for a while. I started to feel a little emotionally flooded. So I got selfish and spent intense hours on ridiculous personal projects.
I don't feel good about that.
The killer in me
Is the killer in you
My love
Sigh.
I am embarrassed to admit that I have tried three separate times now to get a blog running on my server at home.
And actually I've learned a lot in the processs. But I have lost much sleep—I haven't been to bed yet since 0700 yesterday.
Did two attempts last night. Tried an ASP/MSSQL based tool which has effectively no documentation. And got nowhere. Database was live. Server ran pages. But no dice.
Found some good documentation about MT, and that's the tool I'm working with at the moment. (Flipside made me want to, cause it's so damned fast) But... Even trying to run as simple as possible using the built-in database support, I was unable to get the server to run the scripts or even do something as simple as serve pages. That's what I get for using a Microsoft OS. I'm going to try one more time with Apache instead of IIS. And if that doesn't work, I'll force myself back to linux.
I'm pissed that linux is probably the best choice. Pissed because I don't want to learn another operating system. Isn't Windows bad enough? Well isn't it?
I will feel l33ter if I can get the blog tool running on windows. It's not designed to work well that way, but there are a number of people on the web who say it can be done.
Get ready for it. I'm gunning for ya.
I've been feeling kinda giddy today.
Kind of all a-quiver...
I've been putting a little more swagger in my step and I've been more inclined to start smirking at odd intervals.
The odd thing about keeping a secret blog is how much freedom it gives me to say what's on my mind.
But when I feel really good about it, I want to say things to people in Real Life.
I haven't, and I won't.
You're still my secret.
However, I'm still going to smirk at odd intervals.
I always liked her more than Mary Ann.
Even before I knew what such things were, I thought she was hot.
Non-linear story. Inter-twined dreaming, reality, spirit world. Sexy. Beautiful.
It has to be one of the most memorable movie experiences I've had in a long while. I would recommend it highly.
It is hands down my favorite David Lynch movie, although I still haven't seen The Straight Story or Lost Highway...
Ugh.
As a temp, I've brought none of my usual office goodies with me.
I had speakers for years. I played MP3s from my collection endlessly.
But right this minute, I'm sitting in a cool basement room. The sounds I hear are the continous rumbling of the air-handling system over my head and the white noise produced by a new server that's running in a rack about six feet from where I sit.
That and whatever pops up in my head. Since I wrote the post yesterday, I have heard nothing but Strangelove.
I'm getting sweepy.
I can't believe you wouldn't want my tongue there. Gently at first, then applying more pressure with the warm, wet flat of it.
Because I love to be there. The smooth skin of your warm thighs against my face. Mmm. Or maybe spread wide in eager anticipation.
I love the licking and sucking and flicking. Very much.
I love when you move your hips to press yourself into my face. I love when you grab my head to hold it there.
I love surprising you with different sensations. Adding fingers. Playing at your entrance. Curling my fingers up to find that place.
I love it when you say "Yessss."
I love to tease you. Almost. Almost. Almost. And slow a little...
I love the way your breathing changes right before you come.
I love it when you come hard and your limbs don't know what to do.
Call my name, baby.
Because, in those moments, you are mine.
I hope it's just me, but my main blog page isn't loading right now.
I don't know if there's a thing I can do about it.
I'm spreading myself pretty thin lately.
Not only have I moved to this new blog tool, but I have another personal web project going that has the added twist of a database I must manage.
I'm nearly ready to throw in the towel on that one tonight. I'll apply security updates to the server, but otherwise, sheesh!
I really need to focus.
Some things are just better left unsaid.
It's very hard for me to imagine that people don't want to deal with the same level of minutia that I am accustomed to.
Because I always want to know more.
Well, not everyone does.
Nor is it necessary that people understand exactly why I do everything I do. Sometimes, things can just be. And be better for it.
You would think I would know better by now.
Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
Yeah, that'll work.
God, free weights are totall the way to go for work-outs—I must highly recommend them over the machines for most strengthening and toning exercises.
Because... they make good changes happen.
I'll let you know when I become an adonis.
There'll be times
When my crimes
Will seem almost unforgivable
I give in to sin
Because you have to make this life livable
But when you think I've had enough
From your sea of love
I'll take more than another riverfull
And I'll make it all worthwhile
I'll make your heart smile
-Depeche Mode
I wore black today.
Might be because I was reading Narcissus in Chains.
Action taking place in a bondage club, of all places.
Bondage and supernatural sex.
"It's fun to put chains, leather and crops
Into your morning..."
Maybe I've eaten too many Rice Crispies...
I hope your weekend was lovely.
I didn't have much of a chance to get out to see the fall color. Perhaps a walk together late this afternoon?
I can't wait!
Anticipation.
I dug through old posts last night. Found the beginning posts of some of my first stories. They're going to be assembled in the "writing" category. Scroll down a bit and you see the available categories on the left.
If you click the permalink for those posts, it will take you to a series of pages where each post is visible singly, and you can click next or previous from there. Maybe that's confusing.
One day I plan to assemble the stories into a more traditional format. You'll know when I do.
Love.
...Are more amazing every day.
This is a safe harbor.
Lock the door behind you, if you like.
Feel the warmth of the fire.
You're always welcome.
Come over here.
Let me work out the knots.
Just enjoy.
I see you.
This TypePad tool is very cool. It does a