Honesty & Reality

So here I am, with a blank writing canvas to once again try and come up with something to blog about. I have so many thoughts in my head that I just can not get them out and on paper. The words are so jumbled, and so scattered. I can see them when I close my eyes. This past weekend, I was having a conversation with someone. I could see in their eyes that she had so many questions to ask. Finally I told her to close her eyes, and to reach out with her hand into that swirling bowl of questions and grab one. Pull it back to herself and read it to me from the palm of her hand. That seemed to work for her because the next hour or so was a question and answer session.



So, here I am, eyes closed and reaching out with my hand to grab one of those topics swirling around my blog bowl. And what have I come up with? Absolutely nothing. FUCK!!!!



Well, I lied, I did come up with something. LOL. Let’s talk about reality and honesty. Shall we?



Honesty is something we all say we appreciate, respect, expect, deserve and give. But how many of us really are honest? Honest not just with others, but also with ourselves? One thing I have come to realize over the past few years with myself is that not only am I going to be honest, brutally at times, but I am also a realist. How much more honest can you be that looking at reality and what is in front of you? I say that because over the last few weeks have been on a lot of dates. Some of them were vanilla dates, some of them have been kink dates. And the one thing that STILL amazes me is how people can not handle honesty. If I do not feel a connection from you in the first 5 minutes, I very seriously doubt I will feel one ever with you. I have had one occasion in my entire life, which was a few weeks ago, where after I met this young lady, before we ever went in to the restaurant, I looked at here and said, “I just don’t feel anything and I get the impression you’re not interested either. So why waste time sitting through a dinner where we both will be uncomfortable and just go ahead and go our separate ways now?” The next thing out of her mouth was berating me for being rude and selfish. I was like really? Reality told us that there was no attraction there. Honesty got me cursed. I just love honesty. I told her to pull her big girl panties up and move on to the next guy.



I am not the best looking guy out there, nor am I the worse looking guy out there. But the realist in me tells me who I have a chance with and who I don’t. You know what I am talking about. See a good looking guy or gal, and I mean GOOD LOOKING!!! How many of you say, “Yea, I don’t have a chance?” Many of you do. OKOK, I hear some of you saying, not me, I have a chance. LOVE your confidence. Go for it. Can I get a date with the hot women who are saying this? Yea, that’s what I thought. LOL.



Reality and honesty are one in the same. But they are also different. I try not to confuse the two, nor do I always mix the two. But many times they are the same and mix together quite well.



Just the other day, I had met a vanilla chic, one who I later discovered was very freaky and kinky. We seemed to click and hit it off ok. Turns out she works for a friend of mine. She asked her boss about me, her boss gave me a glowing report, even called me a saint. No seriously, she did call me a saint. Damn do I have her fooled. I mean, me a saint? Not hardly. But that’s another topic I will get to some day. Anyhow, for her birthday, I took her to breakfast and to a movie. NO she did not spend the night before breakfast. Anyhow, we spent the afternoon together, chatted a lot, laughed more and even played around. Nothing serious, in fact we both kept our clothes on. She was telling me about some things that were bothering her and me being the honest one, I gave her my HONEST opinion. Naturally she agreed with most, disagreed with some and even thanked me for being honest. She said more people should be like me and there should be less people who tell you what you want to hear. At the end of the day, my honesty also told her that while I was interested in her, there were personal things in her life that were causing me to keep her at arms length and would continue to do so until they were corrected. Because in reality, I do not deal with bull shit and drama too well. And that honesty even cost me a friendship and got me another negative response. WHAT THE FUCK is it with people who say they want honesty, but lash out at you when you give it to them? Make up your fucking mind people.



In closing, I will say this. I have told lies in the past. I am sure there will be lies in the future. I do not want to lie. I will always do my damndest to be honest. After all, reality tells us that lies will make a problem for you in the future, but honesty will make that problem a thing of the past. Stay honest, be real and above all else, be yourself.



Me



I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

Hello all.

Lately I have been trying to come up with a topic to blog about.  Unfortunately I am still unable to come up with anything.  I have been itching lately to blog.  So here I sit and not one damn thing comes to mind. 

Today I was on twitter and someone I follow stated they were going to hell and driving the bus.  She asked who wanted to hop on.  I stated I wasn’t allowed in hell, because they are afraid I will take over.  Well that is true.  I mean I am so screwed up in the head who would want me?  Ya know? 

Recently I took the Meyers Briggs test and I scored an ENFJ.  Here is a link to what it says about me.   What’s funny, even scary is, ITS ALL FUCKING TRUE!!!!  http://typelogic.com/enfj.html  I am compared to people such as Abraham Lincoln, Peyton Manning, Craig T Nelson and Sean Connery.  Yes, that Sean Connery, the sexiest man alive.  So FUCK YES, I am like the sexiest man alive.  At least on the inside. 

I just read back through some old post.  I laughed, even shed a few tears.  One thing is my mind is still cloudy, hence why it is hard for me to find a subject and write about it.  Could someone (preferably female with nice tig bitties and who smells good) come blow in my ear and just maybe blow this cloud out my other ear that has my mind so foggy.  I mean I can’t even focus to write something smart ass, or inspiring or even seductive.  HOLY SHIT!!!  Am I getting old and already losing mental capacity?  Quick, someone show me your tits.  NOT YOU FUCKTARD, I don’t want to see any man boobs.  WOMAN BOOBS!!!!

A few months ago I met someone from twitter.  She was strictly vanilla.  Well, not strictly, I mentioned tying her hands up and she did wink at me.  Well, I mentioned this blog and encouraged her to go read it.  HUGE FUCKING MISTAKE.  I make a stupid mistake by giving her the web address to it.  Well, obviously she didn’t appreciate my openness and honesty because she bolted to never speak again.  Well, she did return a text about a month later when I said hi and happy mom’s day.  Then I got the standard line of, “you scare me” and “sorry, not interested anymore, I am seeing someone”    I wonder if I have enough for that cruise around the world yet.

I suppose one thing that has stayed constant with me is who I am.  I am me.  I don’t try to make myself out to be someone I am not.  And to a fault, I am brutally honest.  I have turned a few people away with my honesty.  If you cannot handle it, the tough shit, you’re not for me.  Easy as that.  I might stretch the truth, maybe manipulate or twist things, but in the end I am honest about it.  I always seem to chuckle and laugh at the ones who cannot handle honesty, especially from me.  Sorry, run along fragile ego one who has always been lied to. 

I am going to stop here and post this.  Maybe even link it to twitter.  Thanks to everyone who still reads this blog, if there are any of you that still do.  Otherwise, I will continue to talk to the voices in my head.  I’m thinking of taking them on the road and hitting some comedy clubs.  Surely there is someone out there who will laugh at them besides me.

Me

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

My grandmother

The last 6 months of my life have been one giant downhill. Having a pet put to sleep, divorce, issues at work and now a death in the family. Yesterday I found out my grandmother passed away. While she was in her 80’s and her death was expected, it is still hard to deal with death. I know I have seen more than my fair share in life. My step father passed away when I was 12, a sister passed away when I was 16. My grandfather passed away a week after my first marriage. My mom passed away in ’04 and now my grandmother. Not to mention other friends through out my life. High school classmate passed during my senior year, 3 more the year after I graduated plus countless others throughout my life time.

Last night I went to bed thinking about my grandmother. I can remember being a youngin and hearing her fuss at my uncles about them picking on me. I remember her taking me to swim lessons when I was 5 years old. How she begged my mom to get me to take piano lessons (which now, I wish had taken those lessons. Nothing is as soothing or as moving as hearing a piano being played.) I remember spending my summers at my grandmothers. She would take me swimming at the apartments where she lived, she would sit on the edge of the pool with her legs in the water and when I was 5, I would hold onto her legs and she would bounce me up and down in the water.

One memory that stands out the most is when I was about 10 or 11; I was at her apartment’s one summer night playing hide and seek with other kids. I came running around a corner and this lady had a German Sheppard that came running at me and bit me a few times. I ran home and told my grandmother about it. She marched herself over to this ladies apartment that owned the dog and proceeded to just “lay” into her about the dog. At 4’9” tall, my grandmother sure was a firecracker.

Here is a funny story. Who remembers cabbage patch dolls? Who HAD a cabbage patch doll? LOL. Well the one year that were super popular, what 83 or 84, and they were scarce, my mom wanted to get my sister one so bad for Christmas. Back then there were no Wal-Mart’s that were open all night. In fact the only thing open all night was a Super X drugstore. Even the grocery store closed at midnight. So this particular night grandmother was out doing her shopping because they only had one car and my grandfather was a traveling insurance salesman, she went into Super X and they were stocking cabbage patch dolls on the shelves. I remember my mom answering the phone and basically screaming into the phone yes to get the doll. Hell get 2 of them. The next day I am over at my grandmothers and she isn’t feeling to well, so I ask what’s wrong. Well come to find out my SHORT grandmother couldn’t reach the top of the shelf so she tried to “climb” the display and fell off, topping all of these cabbage patch dolls on her. I don’t know what came of all that, but I do remember how my uncles made fun of her. I am sure this story will be told this weekend and many many laughs will be shared about this.

My grandmother was sneaky. My oldest uncle worked at a grocery store during high school and college. So often times he would come home with his own food and keep it hidden in his bed room. My uncle has a thing for Little Debbie snack cakes, particular Swiss Cake Rolls. So, when my uncle would be at work or at school, grandmother would sneak into his room and steal a Swiss Cake Roll. Well then I would want one, so she would steal another. This always pissed my uncle off. Hmm, in fact to this day maybe that’s why he has such anger issues. LOL.

Another funny story. One year for my grandmother’s birthday, mom, sister and I took her to Red Lobster. Grandmother LOVED Red Lobster so it was an annual thing for a long long time to take her there. Lets see, this particular story was probably late ‘90’s nothing unusual about this particular birthday. Grandmother stealing sips of mom’s vodka cranberries or a bite off someone’s plate to sample what the others got. However, when it we were done eating grandmother pulled out her oversized bag and proceeded to pull out empty yogurt cups with lids and proceeded to empty everyone’s plate. If I had a forkful of rice left, grandmother scooped it up. NOTHING went to waste with my grandmother. Not only was she frugal but a hoarder. She literally had hundreds of these yogurt cups at her house. HUNDREDS!!!! My sister and I laughed at her. And grandmother simply replied in her grandmotherly way, “All of these left over are will make a wonderful snack later.” She took the one remaining AND half eaten cheddar biscuit and even polished off the last two drops of the vodka cranberry. I asked grandmother if she wanted the sweetnlow and sugar from the table and she replied sure. I said hell, why not and tossed the mini corona bottles used as salt and pepper shakers into her bag too. When the waitress came to clean the table, all she would find is 4 empty classes and 4 clean plates. Grandmother didn’t waste anything. LOL In fact, to this day, I still have those salt and pepper shakers and I use them.

3 things I can thank my grandmother for. My love and affection of yogurt, fig Newton’s and no bake cookies. Last night, when I got home, my dinner consisted of 2 cups of yogurt, a banana and fig Newton’s. All in honor of my grandmother. This weekend at some point I plan on making home made no bake cookies.

There are so many stories I could tell about my grandmother. Most of them funny since she has and always will be the highlight of growing up. I could always turn to my grandmother for advice, or help in some way. She took me in when I was going through my first divorce and for 2 years I lived with her. She would cook and do laundry. I would grocery shop and take care of the house. Sometimes we butted heads when she found out I snuck a girl in the back door to spend the night or if I bought the wrong item at the store. But one thing was certain through out my 39 years of life. Grandmother was always there. And her infinite wisdom always won out over anything.

I haven’t seen my grandmother in a few years, but we spoke often on the phone. My only regret is not being there for her yesterday when she took her final breath and left this world. But I have comfort in my heart and soul knowing that she is now reunited not only with all her friends but her family as well in heaven. She is once again hand in hand with my grand father and reunited with her only daughter, my mother in heaven. The last time I spoke with my grandmother, back in January, I ended the phone call with the same words I have been saying to her ever since I was able to mutter these words and I will end this with those same words.

I love you grandmother.

Me

Are your friends being chosen for you?

So recently I have been very active on twitter. If you want to follow me, I am @Strictnstern4u. Make sure if you follow me to say hi and you read my blog. Anyhow, back to my thought after my shameless plug for twitter. Recently something has transpired that irks me to the core. Collared submissives that must get the blessing of their Dom to speak, or interact with another. Now, before you start giving me shit about this, I DO respect a collar and that relationship and in no way am I writing about it here now to trash someone’s collar.

If you are a submissive and you are collared to a Dom, great for you. I wish you 2 the best. What I want to talk about is the fact that he/she chooses who you can and can not converse or communicate with. If that’s the case, then are you still a submissive or are you now a slave since you are now giving up the right of who you can and can not communicate with? If that is the case, good for you, however, if it is not, then I think there is a serious underlying issue at hand.

One, is there something he is hiding? Besides you that is. To me it is a red flag being run of the ole flag pole when your friends are being chosen for you. In my opinion I feel he/she is hiding something from you. If there is complete trust, why should he be the one to pick and choose?

What brings this up is recently I gained a follower. I noticed it was a sub in the lifestyle, so I just did a common thing and went to follow this person back. Only that they have their account private and thus you must be approved to be a follower. Ok. No problem. One of two things came to mind immediately. Either they are trying to remain private and discrete and prevent someone from their vanilla world from finding them (totally different subject matter, I blogged about this before, just remember, if they come looking for the lifestyle and they find you, why fear of being outted? They will out themselves too. Just an observation.) Or, they are being told who you can and can not communicate with.

Another instance was discovered today. Someone whom I was following, had a few conversations with via twitter about bdsm related items and subjects is no longer following me AND has now blocked me. Why? I am not sure. Do I care? Yes and no. Yes I do, because she did express to me she was in a quandary. No, because obviously, and this is my opinion, their Dom feels threatened by me in some way. If this is the case, then grow a set and man up. Are you THAT fucking insecure in yourself that you feel threatened by a Dom via a social networking site? Really?!?

Again, I will put my disclaimer in here by stating this is MY BLOG and MY OPINION and no one is forcing you to read what I have to say. If you disagree, great, let’s discuss it more. I love open and friendly discussions. If you are offended, then tough shit, I aint here for you. If you have issue then simply click the little red X in the upper right corner of your screen. SEEYALATERBYE!!!!

Bottom line is, it doesn’t matter to me what you do, how you do it, why you do it, etc. But to me when something just doesn’t seem right, guess what, it usually isn’t right. One of the biggest issues I see is people not using common sense. If we all took a deep breath, stepped back and use some common sense, a lot of things will work themselves out.

Me

I will inflict the pain, but I will kiss away the tears.

My pain

Its been some time since I last blogged. I have had a lot going on in my life and a lot of change. The first being I have separated from my wife and I am now going through a divorce. For the past couple of years my marriage to a vanilla woman had been going downhill. So when I moved out in December, it was on decent terms with her. Just over time we have grown apart and our lives are heading in different directions. In the long term, this will be good for me. It will allow me to get back to who I truly am. I will be able to “rediscover” myself.

For the past couple of months I have been fighting depression in a major way. Many nights I have sat in my apartment and stared at the wall. Other nights, I stare at an end. I have blogged before about suicide and how I have lost 2 friends to it. Last month I lost another friend to suicide. Losing him made me realize why he did not help me when I reached out to him. I have reached out to a few others seeking some help for me emotionally, but I have not received anything back in the form of help.

Yet here I am today blogging about the past few months and where I have been. No matter how upset, or how much thought I have put into an end, I still cant do it. What keeps me from doing it I don’t know. I have no one to live for. No children. Only family I have is a sister, and that communication is few and far between. All of my “friends” choose her side. All I have is the comfort of myself. And many nights, there is not comfort in that. People at work ask me how my evening or weekend was and I lie to them. I haven’t even told them that I have separated from my wife. In fact I have only told a handful of people I interact with daily. Hell, just the other day I stoped in at a local eatery to grab a bite to eat and when one of the people I know there asked how my wife was, I responded with, I don’t know, we are separated.

Am I sorry for the failure of my marriage? Of course. Is it my fault? To a point yes, but she is at fault too. I am not going to assign blame or point the finger. I accept blame just as much as she does. In the end, this will be for the best. Such is life. Pick up and move on. In the meantime, I have to learn to keep myself together. I have to be strong for myself, because I have no one to lean on for strength.

I have never been one to look at and into my future. I am not one to daydream of how I want things to be in my life. I do take into consideration how my actions of today will affect my tomorrow. In the past I have always felt certain that tomorrow will come in whatever capacity it might be. However, over the past year or so, I wonder if I will be around for my next birthday, or the next Christmas or even the next changing of the seasons. Now that I have typed that out, I have realized maybe that is why I am having a hard time expressing myself in my blog. My mind is so cloudy, I can not put together a complete thought. Just this posting I have had to go back and reread many times what I have typed to help me regain my train of thought. And even then I have to reread several times.

Today, the day after Valentines Day, I feel better about myself. I actually sat at home last night wondering if I would see today. Its hard for me to say this even now, but I have contemplated taking my own life. I admit it. I have even thought of how I would want to do it. But as I think that, my mind wonders to my friends who have taken their own lives and then I wonder who will miss me. Who will wonder what they could have done to prevent me from doing this. And I come to the same conclusion. If the day comes that I do take my own life, I will do it in a manner that I will never be found. It will be done in a way that only I will know. I want to disappear from everyone in the world because the last thing I want is for people to think and wonder, “What could I have done differently?” And all I can think back to is, don’t give them a reason to think that. Just disappear back into the earth never to be seen again by a human being that knows me.

I am going to post this blog. And I am sure those that read it will have something to say. Some will say it to me, some want. Either way, thank you for reading this. I am not going to edit, nor spell check this, I can not bring myself to reread this again. This is my therapy, writing about it and sharing in my blog.

Me

I will inflict pain on myself and I will wipe away my own tears.