Notes from Up on an Airplane (nearer my God to thee)
29 July ‘04
I just finished watching 50 first dates, Adam Sandler breaking my heart then with a would you like to meet your daughter such joy such amazing realization that I am one of the most blessed women in the universe. It’s hard work, but I really do think dreams can come true, a ring a glittering thing… How lucky am I?
It’s been an amazing week, and plunging myself to depths that I never really thought I’d go to, never thought I could, both as a Top and as a bottom has reminded me how amazing a creature I can be, how blessed I am for the people I have in my life, a renewed empathy for connections with my loved ones, and a burning desire to be HAPPY. Strider wove a powerful tale Monday morning as he fucked me, a tale debauched and tragic that left me dead and dismembered as I cried beneath him… and it made me rise from the flames anew, it has reminded me how incredible LIFE is. Between Dancer and Strider I took myself to new depths as a bottom and now I feel incredibly at peace. Do I want to join the tale woven of Parisian nights and Raunch beyond belief? It’s an amazing tale and perhaps slices of that tale will interweave with my own life… but I want balance and here, memories of the two of them and Spike’s eyes staring up from beneath the waves- no matter how incredible moments are, I don’t want to become jaded. With death dancing before me, bony hips in the moonlight strung with silver coin belts and her hair falling around her like a dream, I don’t want to loose sight of the light. I want to paint, I want to wake up in Furry’s arms and hear the dog barking in the back yard as I pour myself a bowl of cereal and read a book at the kitchen table as morning light streams in.
Love is intoxicating.
My pen wants me to write that sometimes I scare myself (so good to have a pen in hand instead of keys)… but the truth is right now- I *don’t* scare myself. Even as I threatened to cut off his arms, even as the gun was lodged down my throat, even as I looked down at my own vomit and the smell of our evening filled my nostrils ‘til they stung- I didn’t scare myself. Each was overpowering, terrifying, intoxicating… I don’t want to become jaded, bored… if ever such extremes of human desire, the dance with death and decay, becomes blasé…I am feeling great calm. Weathered the storm I am safe in my body and soul again.
Rain pours down over my hooves. Pine cones catch in my hair as sweat covers us. Hands and mouths cover me fill my senses in hot tubs and beds. I taste the ash on my tongue. I shake with him inside me as her moans wake the universe from its slumber. I kiss sweetly. I am held after I unlace his boot. I cry. I dream. I LIVE. I LOVE.
The Fuente Fuente Opus X is a delicious cigar- I am a spoiled cigar smoker. Note to the universe: If anyone wants to be me cigars or cigarillos, please let them be quality, not quantity. I never want to need to smoke, so why waste my time and my taste buds on cheap cigars? I breathe in the smoke and taste the richness on my lips and I find peace on a Saturday afternoon swinging by Olive East to visit Maraget and Jack mixed with Caroline under a street light and the strong bears I wish I could have been- I breathe it in and am centered knowing I am all 3. Child. Woman. Man. I am me as the smoke swirls me and I let the rest of the world go. Some day when I grow up I want a good humidor.