Jack's Twisted Kingdom
2012-01-21 08:28:24 (UTC)


"For awhile, it intense, visceral, passionate, filled with hope and joy, sadness and pain, and although I regret that it ended, and the way it did so, wouldn't change a thing about it. Ok, I'd have changed my taste in clothes."

~ Me, on my relationship with Kristin

Apparently I have a "new" allure, fresh meat, perhaps, if nothing else at the bar. I went to the fetish thing tonight, didn't mind it, it was, a little boring. Plenty of drunk girls, plenty of drunk guys, plenty of sober guys and girls, plenty of spit swapping, plenty of bare asses being flogged, whipped, paddled, spanked, etc. This is so not my scene. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind the grinding of rail thin coked up goth girls in skimpy barely-there latex and leather. But, my general tastes run to the artistically inclined erotic, rather than the pandering to drug fueled intoxication. Not that theres anything wrong with that. To be completely honest, I found it, a bit, ok, a lot, tame. No ones hard core anymore. I mean, the drugs have always been around, the drinking, the smoking, the swapping around. But, it all just seems, tame. boring. the same old. but, here I was again, for a second week in a row, percolating in the wafting smell of sweat, sex and desperation.

Girl in a corner, wearing glasses, of course I approached her, when I'm around people I know, I seem to do this thing, where my shy, introverted self recedes into the dark hole it so enjoys and I suddenly become, not the life of the party, but, definitely more outgoing. brave? take your pick. We chatting sitting on the couch watching the players spanking on the rack, the girls in the rope bondage hooks spinning without a care in the world, and for whatever reason, I said "I wonder if Kristin would have been into this?", apparently out loud, I've been doing that, talking out loud to no one in particular, thinking, I was using my inside voice. She, Celeste? Selene? for the life of me, I doubt I'll remember, asked me about this girl I was waxing poetically about. So, I spend the better part of an hour regaling a perfect stranger in a bar, filled with two hundred plus people walking nigh half naked, about my ex. funny thing, is brevity.

In any case, at the end of the night, she said to me, nice to meet you, see next week? I said, no, probably not. She moved in for a hug, which I took, and then kissed me, said, see you around. It was a nice kiss. Short, but, not too short, long enough I guess. Considering she'd been sitting alone almost all night, except when her friend came and would drag her away to the bar for a drink or a dance, I was alone on that couch, but she came back twice. Probably a hint. Or maybe she, like I, just wanted uncomplicated company. I will, probably go back next week. I mean, it's the only social interaction I seem to have at the moment. I don't mind being a voyeur. I would just prefer to be out with people I can have a conversation with. Which I suppose, I was. It's the venue that I'd like to change.

Emilie Autumn is on the 30th, I'd like to go, but I've no one to go with, looks like Valentines day will be a bust too. No one to go on an undate with this time around. Maybe, someone will want to. I live in hope.