The Hermit Chronicles: Castle Of Singularity

“…Disgusted at the guilt or absurdity of Mankind, the Misanthrope flies from it: He resolves to become a Hermit, and buries himself in the Cavern of some gloomy Rock…” – Matthew Gregory Lewis, The Monk
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I existed alone, in a little cave of nowhere, and was quite content to be exactly where I didn’t know. Gladly retiring to my castle of singularity, I sensed others, not prowling, but curious of my existence. I hid quietly, waiting for them to pass by like so many times before, but then the rustling stopped, the leaves breathlessly announcing a turn in the path leading to me. The steps crunched closer and my hiding place is revealed. I’ve discovered many places to hide, and in spite of my camouflage, there I’m found. I don’t want them to find me, I want to remain secluded, my resources won’t support their hunger and thirst. No matter how I try, they come. With desires no man can tame, they press me out of my comfort, pushing me to give a portion of myself. What is it about a man who desires no pleasure of company, that lures so many to invite themselves to just that, his company? The more I push and pull from society, the more curiosity I inspire. Can’t they just pass by and stop following me down these endless circling, rocky paths? Only to lay on me the guilt of their choice saying, “You never looked out for us, you led us down the wrong path”. Turn back little ones, fair maidens, here in this dark cave lies great desire, desire that will fuel the pain of loss, for only when you desire much can your hopes be dashed against the longing, when all you sought disappears in the dark once again.

05102013
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Just A Look

“Women are like tricks by sleight of hand, Which, to admire, we should not understand. WILLIAM CONGREVE, Love for Love

The plainest man who pays attention to women, will sometimes succeed as well as the handsomest man who does not.” – CHARLES CALEB COLTON, Lacon

 

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The attentions of a woman make me feel alive and vibrant with power. Like a crashing wave, her look and positive glance wash over my life leave me with a feeling of satisfaction. What curse am I under? The power in her movement captivates me and stops my whole world to see her for a moment on the miraculous hinge of change, all it takes is her reaction. If she likes me, pays me some attention, then peace and excitement in abundance. If she turns away, her rejection ignites a fire, inciting a riot of feelings in my body. Though heaven call and hell reach, nothing matters but her at that moment. There’s no end to the amazing things that I’ll put my body and mind through to see her smile. Not just a special her, but the one that has stopped my heart from proceeding with its mundane tasks. Dropped to my knees, not by an amazing model, rare and fleeting, but by that woman who holds herself with such confidence and sexuality that I find a smell of desire wafting across the room to bring me to my knees. I’ve stumbled down the steep paths of self-esteem, yet to know she’s there, watching with interest, gives me the most incredible lift. This hawk takes to an empowering thermal desire and rises to heights unreachable when you, sweet woman, give me your smile.

01242013

Good Morning – A royal awakening for a lover –

“I was dead until you found me, though I breathed. I was sightless, though I could see. And then you came…and I was awakened.” ― J.R. Ward, Lover Awakened

Alas, she wakens with breath so sweet that all words long to be formed by her delicious lips. What better way to both live and die than in the mouth of one so delectable…soon I’ll follow them into your caves of pleasure…I find all paths of your perfumed delight leading to home….

I know what will take you from the nether regions of rest my love, I need but spend an hour with your body that responds with eagerness against my flicks of hunger and your passion will run on this beard, while your legs struggle to support the reality that you have not gone to heaven yet, you only visited there by my invitation…
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First published in Opinions Of Eye.com

One Thing, Everyday – Do something to help

“How selfish soever man may be supposed, there are evidently some principles in his nature, which interest him in the fortune of others, and render their happiness necessary to him, though he derives nothing from it, except the pleasure of seeing it.” 

I saw this picture, a boy collapsed on the road to a UN Food Camp, a vulture waiting for him to die, and I said to myself, “way the hell am I whining about anything?” Am I that frigging spoiled that I don’t recognize how good I have it? After a good self flagellation, I determined these goals in life: take the weight off of those who I’m around, bring a smile to a desperate soul, lift up a broken human being back onto the path of life, and give one hungry soul a bite to eat. Basically, look for the opportunity, everyday, to reach out of my comfort zone and help someone. What if I could do just one thing, everyday, to help someone out? Then my perspective would be changed, then I would stop complaining, then I would really be living.

Conductivity

“Don’t only practice your art, but force your way into its secrets, for it and knowledge can raise men to the divine.”
Ludwig van Beethoven
conductivity – Physiology: The conductibility of a structure, especially the ability of a nerve to transmit a wave of excitation.
 

Sex. Simple yet far reaching, the thing an entity that saved my life. When, from the cold water of torture, imposed by pious and selfish parents who were none of mine, I thought I embraced death, it rescued me to find solace in pleasure and left me desiring one thing:


Just hold me, dammit.”


I feel her skin, alive with little raised bumps of electric excitement, her whole body flush  following my rough fondling of her curved silken form. I’m a voluptuary, my addiction to hedonism born not from the experience of sex, but by the absence of pain that occurs when I drive my fingers into her, seeing her writhe with pleasure, making me a master of the forbidden divine, the whole of our experience being wrapped in the coddling clothes of sadness. What’s it like to take a woman? To ravish her senses before the nakedness appears and we are left with the remnants of pleasure? A grand symphony, composed by a deaf Beethoven of sensual explorations. Like Beethoven, with a deeper sense, a sixth sense, I perform my feats of conductivity with the excitement of promise, like the cool wind and smell of rain before the storm. Sex is my slave and I make her perform on women, instructed by things that excel the imagination. Who would think the evil forced on me would find creative expression in the many and varied spiritual exchanges with women, both imagined and feigned, consuming and exclusive.


Just hold me, damn it.”


The chorus of women far and near, as with a thirsty hunger they lay their bodies down before the coldness of physical experience, echoes in my cry, a cry that goes unheeded to this day:


Just hold me, damn it.”


The orgasms that I give freely in this trick or treat drama are merely candy to lure you to the vulnerability of touch without sex. I want you to hold me in the long after hours glow of cigarettes, tossed sheets, and stained memories of nights passed away with so many strangers, cold and staring, all longing for more than what sex has to offer.


Just hold me, damn it”

Analogy of a Tic – Two Views of People Who Use You

“We’re a different sort of thief here, Lamora. Deception and misdirection are our tools. We don’t believe in hard work when a false face and a good line of bullshit can do so much more.” ― Scott Lynch, The Lies of Locke Lamora 

 “Yet the evil still increased, and, like the parasite of barnacles on a ship, if it did not  destroy the structure, it obstructed its fair, comfortable progress in the path of life.” William Banting 

 

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They wander around my perimeters, parasites, drawing from me like a tic. Working my way through the jungles of the game, they latch on. Suckers, filling themselves with my blood. I let some hang on, knowing they’re there, keeping an eye on them; I’m in control. The tic’s bold, so consumed with satiating its desire, it doesn’t know or care that it’s life is in my hands. One day I’ll squash the tic, making a blood stain on my leg, smiling with gratification of my power over it. It’s funny to watch little creatures plying their wares, I feel compassionate for their limited life span and the narrowness of their existence. I play with them, and while others are scared, I’m intrigued. In the end, the game will be played out again, so I entertain myself with my current companions, a symbiosis of sort, the tug and pull of life sharpening my senses.  

There’s another way to see this game. Being gifted and talented on many levels, I’ll draw success in a variety of forms. This abundance isn’t meant just for me, but for others. I’m a stream of cool water, those who are thirsty can dip their hands in and draw from my abundance to satisfy themselves. I’ll be filled again, not by them, but by the hand of my Big Daddy (God), who is my source and fountain. It’s my purpose to be filled and emptied in service to others, to humble myself and provide for them, no matter how shallow or misdirected their desires are. Hunger is hunger, thirst is thirst. God causes the rain to fall on the just and unjust. Perhaps in satisfying their errant desires they’ll soon grow tired and turn to my source. I’m thankful that if not for twists of fate and circumstance, I’d be the tic. This inspires me to continue to give and provide, not with reluctance, but with satisfaction, knowing that, if not for God, I’d be the sucker.

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Seven Faults Of Foolishness – Fault #2 Starving Your Spirit

“My religion consists of a humble admiration of the illimitable superior spirit who reveals himself in the slight details we are able to perceive with our frail and feeble mind.” – Albert Einstein


Spiritual starvation is just as sad
Every man consists of a body, soul, and spirit. The fool feeds his body with food, his soul with pride, but even in the basest of applications, refuses to acknowledge his spirit. Spiritual food is required for spiritual life. The food comes from God. If my idea of God leaves me wanting, it benefits me to seek that God which satisfies my needs. I cannot define God, I can only tell where the food that feeds me is found. The point is to seek God. Whatever that may be, however that expresses itself in my life. To deny my need of a power greater than myself and human wisdom, is to starve the most essential part of my being. 

If I am hungry, if I am thirsty for something that satisfies, I must go to the source of spiritual life, that being God. Continuing to exist and perform day after day, giving more and more of myself to pleasure and surviving, will eventually wear me out. Just as my physical body depletes its resources and begins to tap those things which are vital to my survival, so it is with my spirit. I must find a source that strengthens, that pours into me, replacing the energy used in the act of living. 

There is no other option, I must find and acknowledge God. I give no opinion on the God I must find, only that I must go in that direction. I need not defend my God, who will show himself to those who look for him. I encourage myself only that I must seek and apply that which I find to my living choices, I must feed my spirit.