Yes, the infamous conqueror of man's planet Earth has returned again to blogstream. His army consisting of Big Shane, Miss NightBug, Miss Kristin, and myself has returned with plans of new. Whatever they be, they will surely shake blogstream.

If you wish to read a great writer, great person, good friend, and all around hilarious man, you can find Seven at this address.

The man knows comedy, chaos, hysteria, and world domination like no other person I have known.  With Anya by his side (hopefully their love has flourished) there will be no stopping them.  They are the Resident Evil pair that will lay waste to all the zombie conformists that infect the planet.  Free love will reign.

It is my hope that with his rule . . .

May U Live 2 See The Dawn

 

There was a scent amidst the air. A pleasing scent rising from the incense stick slowly burning on the oak wood table standing watch by the bedside. Watching and waiting to overwhelm any disturbing scent that might make its way to her.

She lay on the bed listening to the silence. Her legs crossed at her ankles, and her arms outstretched to her sides, palms up hands open, and fingers spread. Her hair fell beside her, save for a few strands twisted around her ears, and one laying on her forehead, tickling her eyelashes.

The sheets laid across her stomach, back under her and back across her chest, above her bosom and below the base of her neck. Some of the strands of hair that fell to the bed brushed her neck with the utmost intimacy. Like a gentle lover caresses the neck of their beloved. A slight twinge. Perhaps a tickle. But with the gentle hand of a true man, who honors the delicacy or a woman, yet respects the power of her.

She felt her wrists being grasped gently. She felt her arms being pulled up over her head. The raspy touch of twine rope, rubbed and wrapped around her wrist. She could feel the tension as the rope was pulled tighter. Not uncomfortably tighter, but then this was a new experience.

She felt a slight tug against her body weight. As if something was being pulled toward her, or her toward it. She then felt that gravelly touch of the rope again. This time it seemed to somehow magically seep through the space between her back and the bed. It twisted itself upwards and over her chest, just above her breasts. It pulled taunt, slightly. She felt a slight shift in her breasts, as the skin was pulled upwards from the taunt of the rope. Her nipples erected slightly.

It wrapped again, just under her breasts, this time, and then back under her and between the bed. It slithered it's way across her waist just above her pelvis.

Her body seemed to twinge with each touch of the rope. As if a gentle touch was entwined in the rope. A gentle hand, whose touch brought the orgasmic touch of some ethereal being. It was simple to give one's self to someone else. To surrender it all. Give all and ask for nothing in return. She asked for nothing, but wanted to give all that she could to the one that wrapped her in seductive touches.

The rope then made it's way back up. The amazing softness that it treated her to, as it came around the underside of her right thigh and traveled from her pelvis back up in between her breasts and on up her chest where it was tied off.

She felt someone/thing grasp her right arm and her right leg. She felt her body being turned, so she was lying on her stomach. She felt something cold and ribbed run from her lower back up to where she could feel it through her hair on the back of her head. It was stiff yet flexible.

Someone grasped her tied wrists, back behind her head, bent at the elbows. She felt the tension on them tied to whatever it was that ran down her body vertically.

The same tension was pulled up on her legs, tied at the ankles, bending her knees. Then without any injunction she felt her entire body lift off of the bed. The tension pulled on her wrists and ankles. But it was not pained. The tieing and tension of the ropes distributed her weight so that her wrists and ankles didn't bear the brunt of her body's weight.

She suddenly felt the sting of something blunt and rounded on her buttocks. She gasped. It was like the sting of a serpent with the blessing of an celestial being. While it brought pain, it brought pleasure.

Again. She gasped. Again and she gasped. Again. She kept silent. The air around her was silent. She breathed quietly. She listened for a sign. But her ears received nothing but silence. Her nose smelled nothing but the incense that still burned.

A touch of a human touched her buttocks. It touched the contact point, ever so softly. Immediately following another smack! She stifled her gasp. But a groan lay in the pit of her stomach and she was not sure if it would be contained. It bellowed and begged to be heard. She wanted the consequence of releasing it, but not for the lack of her fortitude. No she would stay silent. She would submit. Six letters that spelled pleasure.

She lay there. She wondered how people blessed with sight could see so little. There was a world of senses available to them, yet they refused to see them, and lived life only on sight.

May U Live 2 See The Dawn

Are there things in your life that you do again that something else is attached to? Like when you watch a certain movie, is there somethng else that you always remember too? Like maybe who you saw it with, you got bad popcorn or some song that was on the radio when you were driving there.

Like for me, whenever I play Super Mario RPG (SNES) I think of and/or feel compelled to listen to "Sexual Capacity" by Color Me Bad, because at the time that I got this game, that was one of the songs that I was listening to most frequently. This also happens when I play Metroid (NES) with BBD's first album.

So when you do something that you do frequently or every so often, what else is associated with it?

May U Live 2 See The Dawn

First off thanks for everyone that commented on my last post. I took a lot from each of your comments and I appreciate you taking the time to do so.

I'm tired a lot. More than usual. I find that work and the things that have to be done at home, that I am exhausted all day. Despite this some nights I can't sleep well. I don't mean getting woken up by the children, but I mean sleeping well, in either going to bed at a decent hour, or feeling refreshed in the morning from sleeping (when I do get eight hours sleep).

Life seems to be a steady decline in quality. All around us we see these horrible things people are doing to each other for ludicrous reasons. Violence against children and women. Violence from lack of tolerance of other's beliefs or views. Maybe I am perpetually cynical and pessimistic, and just can't turn it off. But sometimes I think that I don't want to be happy when I know these kinds of things are happening to others. It just kind of makes you wonder what the reason to be happy is for.

Also, I hate money. I'll leave that issue at that.

Been trying to do better with my alcohol consumption. Felt pretty proud of myself with nights here and there recently. But then that relapse just Monday night wasn't a good thing. I had given up on hard liquor as of July 5, 2007. And I gave in Monday night. Granted it was only one drink, but I shouldn't have done it. I failed myself.

Work is tending to grate on me too. Maybe it is a bit of an outlook on it too. I have had some good days along with the bad days, but it just seems it is tiring and taxing. Not because I don't like working for a living, but other issues outside of the actual work that goes on within this company.

But anyway. Gonna try and move this summer and find a more affordable home and a town with better utilities. Where we are living now, was fine when we moved here, but the addition of children and all is pressing the finances. Plus the utilities here and just outrageous. It doesn't matter what I don't use, do use, leave on, turn off. The bill is about the same and way too high.

But enough about me . . . what about you all? 8-)

May U Live 2 See The Dawn

I've been here for over two years now. I have shared some things with you people that I have not shared with most anyone in my life. You all have been here for the birth of my second son. You have seen my ups and my downs. You have seen the same old shit. You've seen my love of things and my hatred of things.

To avoid forgetting anyone, I will just say that there are many that have had a hand in me seeing things differently and reinforcing my beliefs in things I already knew. Yet there are times, when I still don't understand myself. Even some of the things that I do. Or why I do them. You have been there for me when I'm down and drunk, and when I'm feeling sorry for myself for all the drinking that I do. Kinda like I am right now at 1am in the morning.

Life is a bittersweet symphony of the night, and I can't avoid that. No matter how I look at life, it is what it is. I have no expectations for anything at the end of this life. This life is all there is, and that is all that I can believe. It's bittersweet. Life is here for you now. Enjoy it will it is here. The reality of it is, however, that it will end, and when it does that is all there is.

"For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass.  The grass withereth and the flower thereof falleth away" -- 1 Peter 1:24

It's the second part that always gets me . . .

"But the word of the Lord endureth for ever.  And this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto you."  -- 1 Peter 1:25

Seriously, I'm not one to really quote scripture.  Anyone who has read this weblog for any amount of time (I wish you were still here Miss Maria) know my grievousness's with religion and God.  But if someone can truly put faith in the above, I applaud them.  They have found something beyond the void.  Something outside of the darkness.  A purpose.

I have one.  It is my wife and sons.  That is my purpose in life.  Their happiness.  Sometimes I am selfish though.  I do things that are damaging and counter-productive to my relationships with them.  Sometimes I really feel like an ass.  An unfit father that will do more damage then good.

I know I always make jokes about my OCD.  But I find that it gets more taxing with age to the point that I sometimes cannot do what should be done and not what it tells me needs to be done.  Like when sitting on the edge of the bed with my wife and we are talking of intimate things, and here my eye catches a sippy cup and Dt. Mt. Dew bottle laying by the bed, that I have to pick up and throw away.

I can and should be able to find happiness, yet I don't.  I mean I have a blast playing Wii with my son, or taking the two of them to the zoo, or loving my wife, making love to her, pleasing her and doing things for her.  Yet when the moment of these activities end, the darkness enters.  The bittersweet symphony that is life.  What I feel is not what I want to feel.  The seeping, dank, clammy hand of doubt.  If God is not real, then what else is there to believe in?  If the world will not end, as I was told in my lifetime, then what truly is truth?  Why will I have to look my mother in eye as death approaches and know that in the back of her mind she is wondering what awaits her, because she was not to see death, before the coming of the Lord?

"Until I saw your blue eyes cry and I held your face in my hand, and I then fell down, yelling 'Make it go away', just make a smile come back and shine, just like it use to be, and then she whispered 'How can you do this to me?'"  -- Blue October - Hate Me

Yeah, how am I going to look her in the eyes and tell her that her life was spent in vain?  How am I gonna tell her? 

I have no answers to life other than make it a purpose to make someone else's life happy.  If you can do this, not matter what nihilist look on life that you have, you have had a purpose.  Is it enough?  It doesn't really matter.  Someone had a happy life for something that you did, and really that should be enough.

"Hate me for all the things that I didn't do for you.  Hate me in ways.  Yeah ways hard to swallow.  Hate me so you can finally see whats good for you." -- Blue October - Hate Me

Because in the end, it doesn't matter how much I drink . . . nothing changes.

May U Live 2 See The Dawn