Feb 252015
sit you down and shut you up

I want a man who wants this. I want a man who wants me. Tell you things you didn’t know? Make you laugh? Sit you down and shut you up? Those are all things I’m good at and things I enjoy — they’re what I like most about myself. I’m not looking (I’m quite content on my own). But if he exists, and if I ever find him (or if he finds me), I hope he has strong teeth and likes doing windows. Also, I want Henry Rollins, but that’s not really the point.  sit you down and shut you … [read more]

Feb 222015
fire hazard

I don’t tend a flame or hold a torch (I carry too much kindling) The risk of errant embers catching fire burning bridges is enough to scorch the earth “Heart on fire” by pdpics.com, (2010). Work licensed under a CC0 1.0 Universal (CC0 1.0) Public Domain Dedication. fire hazard was last modified: February 22nd, 2015 by Dumb Domme

Feb 162015
your arguments suck: fifty shades edition

Here we go again… Person A does a thing, makes a thing, or likes a thing. Person B questions or critiques the existence, creation, practice, or implications of that thing. Person A responds with one or more of the following:* “Censorship! This is censorship!” “You can’t tell me what to do/like/watch!” “If you don’t like it, don’t do it! What I do/like/watch doesn’t affect you.” “You’re kink shaming!” Calling Rebecca Reid’s Telegraph article an “argument” is a bit too generous. It’s more like an reductive reaction followed by swinging at straw men and tilting at windmills. Let’s pull it apart, … [read more]

Feb 122015
writing the self; constructing reality

I’ve been trying to figure out why I’ve been getting progressively more precious about my writing here. Every word feels so consequential that I struggle to get things down — the way they were, the way they are, and the way I want them to be. Lately, more often than not, I don’t hit ‘publish.’ I’m not ready, not (entirely) for emotional reasons, but for intellectual ones. I don’t understand things, I don’t like the way they’re still bouncing around in my head, and I’m not ready to commit them to the permanent record because they’re fragmentary, unfinished, and disorganized. … [read more]

Feb 052015
obsession and ink blots

I imagined picking up the pens would be a pleasant distraction — a temporary, meaningless focus in an otherwise cluttered brain. I thought practicing calligraphy would be relaxing. It isn’t. I don’t do moderation. I’m all or nothing, always or never. I am falling or flying. What used to be my dining room is littered with ink pots, pens, nibs, empty cartridges, parchment, rulers, markers, and pads of paper. My nails are ruined, and my fingertips are stained black, crimson, and blue. As soon as one stain fades, another takes its place. My hand spasms, my fingers curl. I can’t … [read more]