Music today right now "silent night" sung in German on the radio

Reading today:trying to avoid all the commentary on Saddam's capture

Hold on to what is good even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe even if it is a tree which stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life even when it is easier letting go.
Hold on to my hand even when I have gone away from you.
- Pueblo Blessing

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Sunday, Dec. 14, 2003 - 6:37 p.m.

Hmm, some people seem to have misread my last entry as saying that I hoped that ob would come back to me now that I have set her free. No. I set her free in June. She wanted me back. Fucked up in August. And so just now, when I happened to read that saying "if you love something, set it free, if it comes back to you it is yours" two or three times in about an hour of surfing (it really is a popular saying, seen on cards, wallplaques, ecards, people's diaries, words of wisdom lists, quotes sites etc), i was just getting well FUCK that is JUST A SHIT SAYING! As several people noted, usually when you set them free it is cuz something isn't working, and then when they come back, it is usually cuz they are being shitheads, or you have moved on etc etc. In rare instances I have seen this work. I have friends who broke up by mutual agreement... they had been going out like forever, and the guy wanted to date around, so the girl said, ok bye. And they are back together now and have a baby and are married and really happy. There was a reason, after all, that they had been together for like forever to start with.

But many times if you set someone free, they just panic and demand to have you back, even if they don't really want you. And then once you say, ok! you DO love me, they go. Oh, now i've got her I dont want her. And then you get dumped. Case in point.

And other times when you set someone free, they go away because they dont feel free, they feel rejected. Ie, if you really loved your dog or your cat or your kids would you open the door and "set them free??" No. Maybe the saying was meant for birds of prey... ie if your falcon comes back to you it is yours, and if it flies off into the great blue yonder it is not yours. I dunno. Anyways stupid saying.

And I think I have already made it clear that I know that what was most precious is now lost with ob. What we had was trust and a feeling of security with her. A feeling of us being together and beside eachother and not antagonistic across from eachother. A feeling of trusting in her honesty. Those things are gone. Broken. Doesn't mean I am any happier about having lost it. That I understand what happened. That I am any closer to replacing it. Or any less damaged and hurt because of the mess.

I am reminded everyday when I want to share something that I have no one I feel like understands most of what I am excited about. I am reminded everyday that I don't have someone who will call me, listen to me, play with me, share things with me, everytime I see people doing things together. I wish I could say that when I go out I see people I am interested in, that I could replace ob with. But I don't. People would say "why arent you going out with someone in Montreal" when I was seeing her... well I would if I met someone. I have not had much luck 1)having a bank of possible interests and 2)having any of the few I actually have something in common with be interested back at me and 3) having it work out for even 4 dates. But right now I just feel I would not be fair to anyone even if they were interested in me. If someone said I love you, I would cringe. I really would. I wouldnt trust them, and it wouldnt be their fault. I am assuming that will change in time. I imagine it will.

Last night I had a really nice time with my friend Yawn. We went to see this Norwegian/Swedish movie with French subtitles called "Kitchen Stories" I very much enjoyed it, and we got to practice our Swedish comprehension. Soso! The premise is that this researcher has sent a bunch of Swedish men to Norway to sit on tall tall chairs in the kitchens of old bachelors, to map out their kitchen movements in order to design the ideal kitchen. Of course it is an absurd situation, with this functionary sitting high up with his notebook, watching this old farmer move around the kitchen. The farmer of course cuts a hole in the ceiling/upstairs floor, and starts observing the observer. Also he begins doing all his cooking in the bedroom! Eventually the two men become friends... and cheat by talking and socializing. The observer eventually gets canned for that, but decides to remain friends with the farmer.

In the meanwhile, the farmer's old buddy, who arrives through the snow by red tractor, one of the few colors in the whole snowy movie, gets dejected as he has been displaced in his buddy's life. It is a comical and touching film of older isolated people who have no attachments in life. A bit too close to home to my feelings. I must admit I was happiest this summer when I was putting up Bridge Markland, a Berlin drag king, for a week. It was a situation like that... me living alone, and having someone to set a second cup of tea for. Lovely. Having someone else here, I actually used my livingroom AND my backyard! wow! The movie did have a sort of sad quirky ending however. I would advise you to see it if you like foreign films. I am assuming it has English subtitles somewhere, since the above link to it is from London UK.

I missed the bus by 5 minutes, so I walked all the way to the movie. Got there in record time, without eating too much nose snot running down my cold face! So even though I have this throat tickle thing, my lungs are in tiptop shape! yay!

I was upset with the movie theater though. It used to be, along with a coffeeshop, in a tiny cozy old Montreal building on the St-Laurent main drag. It was there for ages and ages, and was just one of those places with tin ceiling, a big bay window in front, people drinking bowls of cafe au lait at wooden tables, squeezed between shops of "ship goods to Poland" and smoked meat. But St-Laurent has been changing from immigrant city to trendoid city, slowly and insiduously for years, starting at Sherbrooke street, moving up. For at least ten years now there have been cold lacquered, empty shiny cafes and now skater clothes and bars with valet parking. Rich kids with expensive cars wearing snazzy coats and trendy running shoes.

And now the movie theater has moved into a huge complex... the entryway is the size of two of the old shops. Empty space with grey carpets, stainless steel walls, an industrial motif of steel cables and large gears holding up stairs of steel and black rubber treads. Glass tables held up by more polished steel. In the bathroom the toilets flush themselves and water gushes automatically in the sinks. (very annoyingly using enough for 5 people when I set my bag down too close to the faucet)... note that this is the sort of plumbing that totally failed when there was the power outage across Ontario and the NorthEastern States in August, when one could not piss anywhere but the streets for lack of plumbing. Stupid stupid. But so "modern"!! At the ticket wicket, you could see through the tiny window where you shoved your money, that there was indeed a real human there, but where there wouldve been a glass window for a face, there was instead a video screen. Nothing like talking to someone close enough to touch, and you have to talk to a video screen instead of a real face. Horrid. And expensive for nothing I would add.

It was something I would expect downtown next to Place Ville Marie, or in our endless underground shopping malls and skyscrapers. Not in the Plateau, land of tiny storefronts, brick and wood. Anyways, it didnt seem to attract the minions, as whereas the old cafe was so crowded that you had to wait for a seat, this one was nearly empty. And so was the lobby and theater. Sigh. Progress. progress.

Anyways the movie was good.

Afterwards we went to the Fetish Cafe. The music has not gotten any better, since Jacques, the old dj, was neither dj nor busboy, having gone to the David Bowie concert (which according to the paper today was nothing less than absolutely mindblowingly sensational... sigh!)... instead we had a mixture of old rock (aka Regina 1978), soft rock (a.m. radio 1988) and bad dance music (clubs Montreal 1998). Ack.

The hostess with a mostess, the owner (who is a friend of mine) was very brave and wearing chainmail! eeek! A sort of bra and little skirt. She is expecting her first child in May and is filling out. She is my age. Her boyfriend who was very drunk, is very very very very happy about this baby. My ex Black, just rolls his eyes. He is very sceptical of just about everyone and doesnt think she'll be a good mom. I think she'll be overly indulgent as she is with her little white doggy, but completely fine. I guess one DOES get over things cuz I am pretty much ok with this, whereas two years ago I wouldve been in tears, wanting to have the baby myself.

They cut a window between the second and third playrooms in the dungeon, which is great, cuz now you don't have to hang in the doorway to watch. There were two straight couples playing... the closest ones had a girl with her ankles shackled, and a gasmask on. Other than that she was just wearing a thong and getting flogged. The guy playing with her was obviously quite experienced, and was doing an excellent job flogging. It was great to watch their interaction. Then he changed to a paddle. Personally I hate how a paddle feels. Stingy that pours through your muscles. Ouch. She took it well, and then also had to hold the flogger between her knees when he used a long thin (like a yardstick but more solid) wooden paddle on the underneath of her butt. She did some interesting dancing but didnt drop the flogger.

It was around then that I started getting out of the present and into the emotions that stayed with me.... I started thinking about how I would probably get better flogging and using the paddles if I had someone to play with... but it would have to be someone I felt ok being vulnerable learning with, since I dont have experience to just say "want a flogging?" to someone. It's like you don't offer to cut someone's hair if you don't already know how to do it, unless they are an understanding friend. And the paddling made me think of ob.

And yes, I am going to write about ob cuz that is who is in my emotions now that come out into the world when I live it. I think it is better to be conscious of it, than to just suppress it and have tears running down my face when I watch something and go "gee, i dont know why!!"... well I know why. I don't have someone I can do that with... most of my friends are tops, or not into pain, or are straight boy bottoms looking for femme dommes, and I dont want to get into play with them, cuz they like playing sexually, and I dont want to do that with someone who is a friend and not someone who is a lover or at least a fuckbuddy.

And I was then thinking about not being to play well with ob, and how I had so little time to get better, and about her playing with her Mme, and her corncob and how I wasnt allowed to be a part of that, to watch or share, and inside i just cringe away. And cringing away is not an appropriate place to be to either sub or dom. nope. nope at all.

And then I started feeling like, why the hell was I there in the fetish club at all? If I wasnt really open to playing, if there wasnt anyone I wanted to meet up with etc etc. I hung with Yawn a bit, and my pregnant friend and then another girl (who had her boy slave with her and was saying what a good table he was for her drink). I realized that in Montreal, the number of times I have "played" except for with Black, could probably be counted on 10 fingers. Thank got for having at least gone out with him for 11 months.

I would like to be with ob where I am with him... knowing he fucked me around, knowing just up to where i can trust him, but still relaxed and friendly. I can go up and chat with him, call him for help, ask his opinion, pinch his butt in public. The problem is that at least he and I live in the same city and know the same people so we were sort of forced to be interacting, at first very stiltedly, and then more relaxed, over a period of years to get where we are now. Ob is so far away that anytime we saw each other would probably be a big occasion (ie a music festival, a party, something for which one or the other would travel) and it wouldnt be casual and happening on a regular basis so the unhappiness and uncomfortableness disappears gradually. I guess that is one reason why I sometimes still forward URL's to sites... to make it less of A HUGE THING. ack.

Yawn and I left the cafe early and went to eat Lebanese food, which was garlicky and great. Good idea. Then I came home and surfed for a bit. It was a pretty good day (except for crying at the bar, and that evil saying... grrrr).

Well there, that is it. I suppose I should put in some pics for visual stimulation, but I think I have spent enough time. I'm going to work on my comics for a wee bit (Yes We Dont Want No Bisexuals part 1is the new story), walk the dog, and then get to work on the cover for my doggies book. I shall perhaps scan that in at the end of the night. tah.

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009

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