Lumus
Posts: 5968
Joined: 9/16/2007
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I am naked - an autonomous vessel wrapped at times in clothing; sometimes, in rationale; rarely anything else.
Directed as much towards the practice of the sexual and psychosexual acts collectively ascribed the moniker of 'BDSM' as it is the site, this bit of rant is meant to provoke thought, nothing more. With the disclaimer aside [and how foul a taste that is], to the purpose.
There is a fluid concept that rolls around the forums, wallowing in some threads [troughs?] deeper than others, and that concept is transience. There is only one way! This is the most common rhetorical cry that beggars the evocation of mutability, and with good reason, being that many ways find one solution [and vice versa].
Yet the practice of transience only lends to the existence of things; "this may be", not "this is". Here, in theory, we embrace a different facet than the one proposed, and so perhaps the conclusion may yet be reached. Theory is not execution; it is safer than execution. I use the word deliberately; when the time comes to make a choice - about anything - all other options are temporarily, if not permanently, cast aside.
"I have a problem!" - This certainly echoes in the caves of the server's electrons often enough. The cry is heard, the message submitted for all and sundry. Now what? When you read the text of the cry, do you hear subtext; and to which do you react when composing your own shout into the wilderness? Do you pause and reflect on the chorus of replies; do they change the vibration of your thoughts? Do you reply at all, or move on instead? The answer to this from an administrative view is just as fluid; beyond TOS and forum guidelines, there are no hard rules to what is and is not allowed. There is no mission statement for CollarMe, no single goal beyond the perpetuity of happiness. When I hear a cry in the wilderness, I may look, and if I do, I may respond to the OP or to a missive that seems poignant. The situation is taken in, internalized, personalized, and any drop of water I fling into the ocean carries all of my bias and experience. Yet the end of it all rests in the hands of the one who began the thread - they do as they will; with the rare intervention of a moderator acting under the principles of the aforementioned machines of rule. What worth is a cry back into the caves, then? What strength does an echo carry [and this can be crystallized should you ever read something that strikes an offensive chord within yourself]? What is the point, the purpose, the reason to reply? Again, the answer becomes personal - and again, the caveats of transience apply.
The sight of the goal seems to be the thing. There is a solution; there is information; there is empirical evidence. Response invites closure. We talk, banter, argue, with fonts and underscores, italicized words and colour, images and imagery incorporated to refine this intent. We shrink away from what appears wrong - which is to say, we grow towards what we think is right. The feeling, this religious orgasm we have that tells us a thing is meant to be in this fashion, guides us towards the inevitable cry that will never strike the exact chord in the being of another. To pretend otherwise undermines the uniqueness of our individual totality.
This same fluid approach is in our everyday lives, where the sexual and psychosexual aspects of our being lurk. Sex can be had in the same room, in the same position, at the same time of every Monday; despite all safeguards that might be put in place, things cannot always sound or smell the same. This is not the flapping of butterfly wings, rather an acknowledgment that all variables cannot be contained. A goal is set in sight, the Holy Grail of pain, degradation, the exercise of controlling or submitting, with or without the orgasm [though it ends up on a few lists]. Even if the goal were made static, the methodology is not necessarily so; and the same actions, dutifully performed without change will not always provide the same reaction. [To wit - they might cum less.] The Master needs a servant, the servant needs direction; this is not, however, an advertisement for an escort service or a mapmaker. Nor is it a digression intended to provoke the label-mongers...hie thee to a thesaurus! What passes for common sense and personal ethics might pare down the avenues; these too, change in time, by introspection or a fatal car crash - a lack of firing synapses does wonders for altering the mind.
The message intended, then, is this: do not expect or anticipate that which seems graven in stone, unless you are willing to embrace the possibility of its opposite, or its perversion [simple clumsiness may cause the problem; there were Fifteen Commandments, once...]. We all aim for goals of one sort or another, online or off. Cry into the wilderness, and be true to the words, even when they come back to haunt you. Try a different day of the week...it could be digestion at the root of your erectile dysfunction. And lastly, know this:
What you think is not always real; what you want is not always what you think; what you need is not always what you want.
[This rant was brought to you by the heat of my apartment; the refusal of my synapses to stop dancing; the letter L; and of course, electricity. You may return to your regularly scheduled chaos. Thank you.]
_____________________________
<Talk to educate; listen to learn.>
~ the other half of "L&L" ~
I have been dubbed the Rainmaker. Do not make me take your water for my tribe.
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