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scorpios

lost boys

Archives and Arenas

July 7, 2016

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I am so understanding of others that I routinely fuck myself over to keep from inconveniencing anyone I care about. Or just anyone really.

I remember driving home from the vet with an emergency rescue pup. A recently fixed (hours earlier), very young /hyper husky singing the sad song of his people while my son and his buddy argued in the back seat. I was driving erratically due to the chaos contained within my SUV. I had a moment of clarity. Every car on the road is a microcosm. I have no idea what is happening to them at this moment, and I’ve been a more courteous driver ever since.

You cut me off in traffic? You must have had a reason, come on over, I will let you in.

This is both the truth and a metaphor.

I step out of myself often to try and see things from someone else’s perspective.
Sometimes I forget to come back.
Sometimes I forget I am someone too.

I rarely trespass, I can forgive those who trespass against us with grace and ease as long as I can wrap my head around the ‘why’.

Doesn’t mean it hurts any less. But I get it. I don’t value myself much either, why should anyone else.

I sent memoranda out onto the ocean of the internet or via text and my queries go unanswered.
I see that you have seen it, but you haven’t answered a message I sent you last night, last week, last year? I’m sure you’re just busy.

It takes herculean strength of will for me to reach out to anyone.

I am shy. I am scared of rejection and even more of imposing on someone. My greatest fear is realizing I wasn’t invited to, nor am I welcome at the proverbial party.

Triple that with whipped cream and a cherry on top when it comes to men I have a) slept with, b) I am currently sleeping with or c) want to sleep with.

I am too much Tate and not enough Violet.

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I care about their feelings more than mine. I don’t know how to make demands without feeling bossy and selfish. Even the word ‘demands’ sounds too demanding. But I cannot even muster a ‘please sir, can I have some more’. I usually want more. I am pretty insatiable, but in a cute way.

I will have to check the cougar handbook but I think that might be the golden rule when you find a golden ticket in the form of a golden boy. Enjoy the candy, respect the process.

I have won gold at the cougar Olympics the last few years running. It’s not a competition though. Any time an older woman finds a younger man and they run off into the sunset to enjoy each other everyone wins.

I ‘sex-friend’ like a champion. I really do. It’s my wheelhouse. I built it that way and I know how it works. Been fine tuning the inner-workings, cogs and gears for years. If a friendship is established, I’m good. I got this. Put me into a situation where I start becoming emotionally attached and I go full retard. The wheels slip and I with them, usually ending up in a ditch somewhere wondering what the fuck I did wrong.

“Never go full retard. Just ask Sean Penn.” Tropic Thunder.

Me: I swear if I trip and fall into feelings for this one I am going to need a full frontal lobotomy.

(And a ticket to the Special Olympics, just make it a one way please.)

This is all tongue in cheek. They are not a sport and I am not a game. I am not even the colosseum. I am not worried about being forgotten and I have no desire to compete with anyone, I never have. It is my lot in life to learn and archive, I am the embodiment of the Nalanda University library in Ancient Rome. I like my nickname Dharmaganja Treasury of Truth. Suits me. I don’t know how to lie anymore.

That is how it goes. As a walking juxtaposition being both a sapiophile cougar one would think I would constantly be left hungry for intellectualism, good conversation, something to feed my mind as well as my body. But that hasn’t happened.

Somehow, as if by magic, the ones that gravitate to me are both beautiful and smart.

I can only assume it is because my body is a temple, an athenaeum. Not an arena. Worship and learn. No need to compete. Although playing is encouraged.

I was lying in bed with the new one last night. Enjoying how easy it was, the conversation I mean, everything else was hard, in that really good way. A little bit of downtime between round one and round two. But round two never came. We talked for the better part of an hour.

There is a scene in Lost Boys (the irony is not lost, especially when the boys are) wherein Sam says “They pulled a mind fuck on us and talked.”

It’s true. Were circumstances different and this one didn’t have a best before date in the form of a plane ticket home I could see wanting more than I have.

But for now, he is really good food and I am full.

 

 

Boys

Fucking Scorpios, the Saga Continues

June 26, 2016

 

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I believe this and live it with my whole heart.

This can be compatible with my longer term mantra which reads ‘if you build it he will come.’ Field of Dreams. I am building something but I don’t need to be cloistered in a nunnery, or my office to get there.

I posted this the other day.

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My sunshine caught me in a moment of bliss. An old friend messaged and said I looked stunning and happy.

I said “I was at the beach, fresh out of the water, flirting with a 27 year old Scorpio. In other words, utterly in my element.”

I have a penchant for finding Scorpios. Or maybe they find me.

Whether it be on a balcony overlooking Bourbon Street nestled in a boy’s lap whispering secrets, coveting what I saw every day aka Hot Neighbor, Young Un the First seeing just pictures of each other and declaring we wanted that one, once upon a Sunday, that friend of mine with a purdy mouth or this new Thai Fighter I found.

They’ve all read the Handbook I wrote and declared that I knew what I was talking about.

The new one said so and I replied, “Everyone needs a hobby.”

He proceeded to fuck me in that perfect/intense way Scorpios are prone to do.

But it’s deeper than that.

Messages with another friend this morning…

Him: So what’s your Scorpio doing?

Me: Being cute as fuck.
I am currently writing a thing about how I have a certain level of expectations based on age and sun sign. And although I am not punishing the new ones for the behavior of the old I do find myself pleasantly surprised when a new one ups the bar.

Him: Those are always fun moments. Being surprised in a good way.

Me: Yes. This.
He messages me more frequently and is more attentive than I expected.

Him: Hmmmm so maybe rethink the Handbook?

Me: We had a moment where I was trying to leave and respect his work/sleep schedule and he said ‘one more story’, 5 more minutes.

Him: I keep waiting for the rug to be jerked or the ice water to fall on me. That IS fucking cute

Me: I know right? He asked me to come over the very next night and I actually had to send him a message saying I didn’t know him well enough to read if that was sarcasm or not.
I get that I wasn’t expected. I kinda showed up outta nowhere.
He has work and goals and man-bonding shit to do. This is where past lessons are useful. I understand.
It could have gone the other way and he could have said ‘this wasn’t in the plan for me’, still could. So I understand your rug analogy.

(The Him I’m speaking to has a Scorpio of his own, I may be chairing that support group I have joked about joining)

Me: If I know anything about Scorpios, and I do…just take it as it comes. They don’t lie. It’s beneath them. They need space sometimes and will say so. We just have to respect it. Let them know it’s really okay.

Him: She loves that I can see her. I notice things and it drives her mad, but she loves it too.

Me: Yuss. They do so very much love that. (Everyone does)
The ones I’ve known seem to function on a different plane of awareness. Like alien visitors from another planet. They don’t understand even the whitest of lies or sugar-coating shit. They observe and see a lot of bad in the world. It weighs them down. So if someone can come along and accept them as-is, rejoice in their idiosyncrasies, show them kindness, understanding and enthusiasm it makes them open up and show these beautiful souls hidden under armor.

Him: That’s basically it, yes.

Me: Everyone loves being noticed, and it is a huge bonus when the noticing is of the quiet things left unsaid.

Oh honey. I could teach a course, you know this. And as of late, if a pretty boy moth comes towards my flame it’s almost a guarantee that when the birthday conversation arises October 21st to November 21st will be the answer. To which I reply, of course you are. Come here boy.
Thai Fighter and I were talking after dinner, when he said November 17th, I felt my eyes flashed high beams and his flashed right back.

Him: Jesus, if the universe decides this one is a no, I’m not sure I could handle another Scorpio

Me: He read the article and said it was spot on…
Oh honey. Good luck with that, they are harder to quit than heroin.

Those of us who do not lie make them feel better. This world really is shit and we are little islands of safety, comfort and joy.

Him: You know that is her biggest thing. No lies

Me: As much as they are wonderful jewels of sexy awesomeness, they need us too. It’s a good secret club to be part of.

Him: I like this club.

Me: I find they bring out my most calm and confident self. Insta-Zen. No bullshit, no games. It’s nice. I need a rest too, and to be fed and I am totally writing an article as we are speaking. Ha 🙂


Truth be told I have never fancied being some queen on a throne with every whim satisfied or riches placed at my feet.
I like my books, movies and men with plot twists.
I enjoy the work, figuring things out, reading the subtle subtexts. I love being challenged and tested. I get off on figuring things out and adapting. I enjoy being understanding and kind. I relish sitting back and watching what people do on their own. I have no desire to influence anyone’s behavior. My satisfaction lies elsewhere. My life is full of organic, ecstatic movie moments because I let things happen.

You flipped the script and shot the plot (Sedona, Houndmouth)

And that is just fine by me.

Boys

The Guest Room

December 31, 2014
~my bed~

A very long time ago a boy taught me the true meaning of intimacy.
It is not simply sleeping with someone, but beside them. Holding each other like twins in the womb.
Outside is chaos but in here we float, safe as houses.

Just like any blissful feeling, human nature dictates we chase it, covet it, lock it down, and abuse it until it loses all meaning and the original feeling.

For years I forced that concept  with other partners, never realizing that sleeping next to THAT boy was a warm and lovely manifestation of how we felt. but not the next one, he snored a lot. The one after that made me feel claustrophobic. And the one after that fit all my curves just right and let me be the big spoon so that was okay until it wasn’t. Another would caress my cheek until I woke up at 4 am and we could talk about dreams so I liked being there, but the next one was the filling in a burrito he made of all the sheets…different boys, different joys.

Dr. Suessisms aside, rocket science this is not. So why am I the only one saying anything?

I read an +Elephant Journal article,”why we sleep together” and just the title filled me with a great sense of relief, thank God, it’s not just me, and him and that other lady who thinks I am onto something. phew.

Turns out said article was advocating bed sharing. ugh. Like we need an article telling us that it’s okay to do what everybody does.
I say nay nay.
Time to open a dialog.

The following statement is true.
I love the way he looks, tastes, feels, sounds and smells.
The following statement is also true.
The sheer magnitude of his morning cuteness is enough to make me ovulate.
The following statement is also true.
After our first night together I offered up the guest room should he sleep over again.
He continues to sleep over, and he does sleep in the guest room.

(insert shock and awe)

but but but
But what?
But you said you loved all this stuff about him and he is adorable in the morning.

Those things are the truth…and so is this…

After sleeping with enough Scorpios to write a handbook* I have stumbled on the notion that their night time is precious.
Sleeping next to them is a privilege, not a right. in the past I have earned that privilege SIMPLY BY ACKNOWLEDGING IT, accepting it, not taking it personally and behaving in a reverent manner when it does happen.
I have expanded this theory to include errrrbody (even though this one is a Scorpio too, I have a problem, I need a support group.)

The following statement is false.
I care about him, adore him, respect him, want him LESS because I do not want/need to trap/sleep with him in my bed at night, after we fuck.

Out of all of the men I have slept beside, I have rarely enjoyed the experience, but when I have it’s been blissful (see; tickling my cheek and whispering dreams). my ‘twin in the womb’ was over 20 years ago, and sorry, it’s kinda hard to top. Why sully it by trying?

I have spent the better part of 18 years in relationships and due to finances, living arrangements, convenience (that in retrospect was not convenient at all) always shared a bed. Back when we slept on furs in caves, the conservation of body heat and safety in numbers made sense, but I am not a huge follower of anthropological precedents and I have a guest room with a lovely bed in it. Again, not rocket science. I also made the bed uncomplicated, in the manner of men, and removed the throw pillows. Boys don’t really like throw pillows. they tolerate them.

The following statement is true.
My dogs sleep in my bed.
(insert more shock and awe).

One keeps my belly warm, the other my feet. I don’t worry one bit about waking them up to take back the covers. they know sleeping with me is a privilege not a right.

The new hotness said, when I offered him the guest room citing the (literal) dog fight for sheets and space as one of many reasons for it…”the dogs were here first”  (see why I love how he sounds…he says shit like this)

The door to his room is shut to keep out the dogs and noise, not me. You see dearhearts, I have opposable thumbs and have been successfully operating doors for years now. If I have a bad dream, get cold or sucky for whatever reason, I am welcome on the other side of the door and the bed. Because I ASKED him and he has concrete proof of my respect for him and his space. So he knows if I am climbing into bed it’s because I need to, or it’s morning and I brought him coffee.

(come back for * “fucking scorpios, a handbook for the criminally insane” on 01.01.14)

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