wildseven

Now... A few minutes ago I received an email saying my payment for SG had been declined... I have a permanent auto-payment set up, to thank (though that's too much of a personification, if you catch my drift) the website that changed everything. And set me up with THE lady. As in, that lady who I'll be spending the rest of my life with... Seeing the email in my (now seldom used) inbox got my fingers twitching a little. That ol' familiar twitch... I keep thinking about how long it's really been. Since I've even talked to someone outside my family and tight-knit group... I don't really have the energy anymore. To keep up with people. And on top of that, Pandora's Box has been well and truly smashed open.

I don't know what I thought it would be like, but finding a partner is... It doesn't fix everything. In fact, it's even brought up a few new things to try and wrap my head around. The Pandora's Box I was referring to, is one I've constructed over... well... forever. And it explains pretty much everything. And it explaining everything definitely doesn't mean I've gotten my head around it... Shit. I'm trying not to go into that neck of the woods. I'm typing so I'm not going to interrupt myself, but I want to do the action, where you rub your eyes, just in an attempt to stretch your face. Once again, I don't know if I'll come back. At all. I'm not really able for people. I haven't been for well over a year. Maybe it'll never lift (this weird mood, though mood doesn't really do the feeling justice) and the last anyone on SG will hear from me is this blog. What's the term for a pervasive mood that lasts for months at a time? I don't know. Maybe it's the norm from now on. But I can't help feeling that I'm a selfish bastard. Taking up the time of people here, forming friendships, only to leave all of them behind, with nothing but the spectre of an old profile remaining behind to fill in the gap (which I think I've left). If I were able to resume where I left off, I would. But, alas, that ship has sailed...

The Pandora's Box... Hmmm. I don't know how to describe it. Tendencies... Hmmm. I've always leaned toward the darker side of arousal. Let's just leave it at that and allow the reader to draw from it what they will. In reality, outside the realm of fantasy (read speculation), everything is amplified. I thought that when it came to finally having a chance with a lady, these kinks (hehe) would work themselves out and I'd end up pretty much normal. Which isn't the case. The Pandora's Box relates to this. Because of my dark nature, and because I floundered in a sea of unrequited passion for the opposite sex, both of these fermenting together over 21 years of rejection and trying to deal with the harsh realities of life, there exists a box. That her ladyship has smashed open with a crowbar of affection. She's staying, regardless of how dark things get, but it's ugly. An ongoing, ugly battle to understand.

Think of it like this; picture the libido as a nice gently puppy. You come downstairs on Xmas morning, open up the gift-wrapped box with the dog inside (okay, I'll give it airholes) and play with it straight away. Love and laughter ensues, a lovely bond is formed. I never got to open my Xmas package and play with my puppy. He stayed in there, year after year, growing more and more feral, resentful of the outside world. And still, the puppy lay untouched. Barking and howling, growing too big for the tiny box. And I couldn't hear it. Think of how angry such an animal would be after all those years. Mutated and... well... feral. You see my problem... I have a fully grown, feral beast on my hands. Cramped, unused for such a long time. I've to try and teach it table manners. Oh, OH! I thought of the perfect description. Remember the opening scene from Jurassic Park. Where the velociraptor is kept inside the massive metal cage. They're trying to coax it into the bigger enclosure. My lady love is the foolish guard with an itchy trigger finger poised over his (er... her) stun rod. She's tangoing with a monster. I shudder to think of how unstable a person I'd be without my body to keep me in check... No use in speculating though. Wrapped in a nervous/polite/charming shell, to blow my own trumpet. That's basically what's been happening all this time. I'm almost positive that's far too much information, but fuck it. Anyone who remembers my heyday won't be surprised by this fact. I'm the most reserved person in terms of speech, but give me a forum where my voice isn't required and I'll verbalise all the dark corners of what makes me tick. If anything I've gotten more honest. And gotten less tolerant of things I'm supposed to have an interest in. Maybe extreme is the word. And not the surfer-dude bastardisation of extreme, but the real one. I'm a fringe type person. I'm blazing the black metal trail and sleeping to the inhuman shrieks that it brings. Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast. All is well, distant friends. I haven't been doing a lot of things of consequence, so my time here is still fresh in my head. Which is why I can write to you as I once did. I know I'm a voice from the distant past, but... it's not so distant for me. I hope you've been happy all this time, though I doubt very much that's the case. Life would be empty without the dark side of things. Peace out y'all.