If not for you, Dear Stephen, this would be a simple, foggy, rainy autumn morning and not a dreamscape of ominous proportions.
Tonight, I sent out a bat signal on the porch while looking at the stars, reveling in the crisp autumn air, and drinking my hard cider.
And all was right in the world.
(Actual photograph of my bat signal because I’m dorky enough to photograph that)
I don’t know why this is the last thing I want to see before I go to sleep, but it is. Good night, mah lovelies ❤
I’m tired of definitions. I’m tired of boxes. I’m too damn claustrophobic for boxes.
I’m good. I’m bad. I’m everything in between.
I’m easily swayed by emotions these days, but I’m as bad ass as they come.
I love pink and sparkly things and fairytales, but I will rock my thigh high black leather boots and this cleavage that the gods themselves are envious of.
I’ll be the most loyal girl you’ve ever come across, but I’ll light a bridge on fire to ensure I never cross it again.
I’m sweetness and warmth, but I’ll stand my ground and cut you down the moment you try to bring me to my knees.
I’m currently celibate, but I’ve got kinks to the moon and back. We could play, little boy, but I’d just break you.
I stand strong and dominate the world, but I’ll willingly submit to someone worthy enough for my trust. Until I decide I won’t…
I smile and laugh easily, but these teeth are sharp.
I have a strong moral compass, but I decide my own ethics.
I’m not a possession, but I’ve been known to temporarily loan myself out.
I’m flawed and messed up and often confused.
I’m in charge and in control and resolute, even when I’m making bad choices. ESPECIALLY when I’m making bad choices.
I’m impulsive and flighty.
I curse like a sailor with tourettes. And yes, I kiss my mother with this mouth.
I’m whatever the hell I want to be, whenever I want to be it. Because, quite frankly, this is my life, and life is far too short to be anything but true to oneself.
Come….dance with me. Share your tunes of today and let’s go for a spin around the floor.
And if you give me what I want
Then I’ll give you what you like
Hey, pretty…don’t you wanna take a ride with me through my world?
If I were a zombie, I’d never eat your brain.
I’d just want your heart.
Mr. Houdini, you’re a freakshow.
So share your tunes with me if’n you wanna. I always love discovering new music ❤
Serial dating isn’t what 99.999% of people seem to think it is. I’ve been approached with messages saying “Perfect Match! I’m happily married (though sexless) and here are the specs on my STD standing, my manscaping, and how long my pee-pee is.” Uh, no. No, you are most definitely not my perfect match.
And there’s the guy who is cuckold and thinks my serial dating qualifies for a cuckold relationship. He swears what I’m asking for is a cuckold coupling because he’s just as misguided by his personal definition of what I am trying to accomplish with my serial dating adventures as most everyone else.
I am not committing to anyone, therefore, I am not an adulteress. And men who are submissive do not interest me. I’m a strong woman with a strong personality, and the only way I respect a man romantically is if he is somehow stronger than me. It is in the simplest of ways…a gentle man with this underlying dominance that makes me feel girlie in a way that my inner feminist wonders about. But I take care of business on the reg, so I need to be near men who make me feel a little less responsible for a moment or two. I think maybe it makes me feel safe, like someone can handle me and handle my crazy life and can withstand and persevere. Or something like that.
So, to clear up confusion, here are the rules I make incredibly clear from the beginning even though no one seems to grasp these concepts, and it’s all probably for naught. Whatever, I stick to these, and anyone who refuses to play fair gets relegated to the bench.
*I am not trying to make a love connection. I will be dating more than one man because I don’t want to date to find myself in a little white house with a picket fence and a perfectly manicured lawn. I am not trying to change my situation.
*I do not tolerate jealousy. I am not a possession. I am not changing my mind on dating monogamously unless I actually find someone who I connect to on an instinctual level. And then! I still will not commit my heart until a good chunk of time has passed because your dedication, loyalty, honesty, and sincerity has to be resolutely proven. And, again, that is not my end goal. I just recognize the possibility that eventually someone might rise above the others. In that instance, well, I’m not stupid enough to walk away from someone who could actually walk the path with me long term.
*My heart is not a toy or prey. You can try to hunt it for the sake of hunting it, however, I am not giving it up easily at all. I know what it’s worth even though most others have no clue.
*I am not boinking you. I am not boinking others. I am not doing this to get laid. Let’s face it, I can get laid without all these theatrics. Why? Because I was born with a vagina. That’s my big qualifier. It is the ultimate procurer of all things penis.
*I will not be disrespected. I mean, sure, you can try that crap, but it ain’t getting you anywhere you want to go. I am not the girl who likes to be torn down because bad boys are oh so sexy! No, no you are not. I don’t dig the bad boys. I drop those real quick.
*You may not have all my time. I have children. I have a job. I am a full-time student. I have friends. I have hobbies. I sometimes just want to lay in bed and read and ignore my phone and refuse to text anyone back and disappear into the hidey-hole of my mind.
*You are not allowed too far into my personal space. No Facebook. No Twitter. No Instagram. No blog access. The deeper and more intimate looks into the core of me are off limits to you. For now, at least.
*If you are not down with what I am trying to find, then move along. Look, I know damn well this lifestyle isn’t for everyone. It wasn’t for me until very recently. I am not trying to be won. This is not a competition where you try to be the man who proves I want everything I specifically say I don’t want. I want dinner, quirky dates, interesting conversations, camaraderie, new friends, and someone(s) who can let me be free and unencumbered and comfortable getting to experience the world with various others. We could have a lot of fun if you could only accept that I am not anything but what I present to you from the word go. Scout’s honor.
I’m going places I’ve never been before. No one will derail this journey…I have things to see, adventures to have, lessons to learn.
Dem’s da rules, son. You are not allowed to change the rules to fit your game better. This isn’t really about you, this is about me. This is about me being fully present in each moment and learning more about myself and the world I’m in and how it feels to finally, finally, finally, do the things that grow ME and please ME and brings me the things that will fulfill me on varying levels. I don’t care how selfish that sounds. I have spent thirty-nine years, three months, and seventeen days being what everyone else wants me to be…giving what everyone else wants from me.
Try to be the guy who gets this. Be the guy who wants to go on adventures with me, not the guy trying to lock me away because you’re scared following my adventures will be too hard for you. Don’t try to clip my wings.
I’m too busy trying to fly with or without you…