Gettin’ cinematic with it
Niggas if you got it, hit it
Fuck the dumbness
Hit it till its numbness

_ Q-Tip

The players change.
But the drama remains the same.
I took myself out of an intense situation.
Only to throw myself into new intense situations.
I was in a constant flux of emotion.
I’m still in a constant flux of emotion.

I need discipline and I don’t mean a spanking this time.
I need to withhold myself.
I need to preserve my energy.
I need to rebuild and reconnect with my ch’i.
I need to keep back the love, behind the dam.
Create potential energy.

I’ve been checking the messages left at the Oblivion Concierge.
Message from my Dignity: Injured, please send help!
Message from my Pride: All shields must be kept at full force.
Message from my Heart: Cloaking Function must be activated.
Message from the Love Department: Hibernating Indefinitely – Do not Disturb.
Message from my Kitty: I’m full and I’m not going to be Hungry again for awhile.
Message from the Office of Self-Regulation: Please make an appointment
for Self Examination.
Message from my Erotic Imagination: Ease up. No one in the World will ever be able to
provide the exact level of Twisted you require to get off, better than yourself.

I have been loving deeply for years.
I have learned what I am capable of, for Love.
And now, I am in the Deep Love mindset.
And I can’t be.
I need Time to redefine myself.

Spending time with my family this weekend
reminded me of the Girl I used to be.
Defined by my family.
According to the natural progression of things,
along the line, in the bid for independence
I used my relationships with men to define myself
away from the Family Girl.
I thought this “new” Girl was doing what she wanted
instead of what was expected. . .

Oh it’s all so trite; the story, a cliché.

And it’s all coming to a wonderful cacophonic crescendo.
The song of men in my life.
My pathological Freudian response.
Losing myself
Forgetting myself
Betraying myself
Giving it all away and not being replenished for it.

Almost 10 years of my 26, pathologically, chronically
addicted to the drama, the despair, the challenge, the hope, the Love Drug.

I’m due for a denouement.

Here, in this place where only you know me,
I began a project of Escapism and Exploration.

There is no longer that need to escape.
This, my life, is no longer a hidden alternative
that I can put away.

I could spew fantasy all day long.
All kinds.
In my mind I am acting them out.
Alone.
This works best because there is no responsibility, no entanglements.
I can exist in a purely fantasy-based escapist level of reality.
I’m not real now.
I won’t be for a little while.
I’m as real as I can be.
But there is no insurance to guarantee
that I am who I say I am, who I will be.
Because I am in Flux.

I’d like to find a partner who is willing
to explore with me,
but who understands and respects my need for
relative detachment, total independence,
time to heal, and disenchantment with Love.

I’m down for:

Affection
Companionship
Kissing
Sexual tension with me recast as a 16 year old teen virgin again
New Energy
Nurturing ongoing friendships/relationships
Nurturing new friends and relationships
Scrabble
Playtime and Exploration


What I’m not Down For:

Heavy Examined Feelings
Emotional Baggage
Guilt
Anyone or anything constraining or putting
claims on my newfound Independence
Having to explain myself to anyone
Relationship-type Responsibility

Ball torture

I’ve been awake way too long.
A long night of broadband enabled porn surfing.
Sigh.

Time for bed. Do you see what time it is?