Wednesday, March 18, 2009

I am a tree

Week beginning March 19 c/o

TAURUS (April 20-May 20): Among medieval alchemists, there were some who tried to make a fortune by literally converting lead into gold. But the authentic practitioners of the art were interested in a subtler kind of experimentation: ripening and beautifying the shadowy aspects of their own psyches. That explains their motto: "For a tree's branches to reach to heaven, its roots must reach to hell." Among other things, that means you have to dig deep and work hard on redeeming your less flattering qualities in order to earn the right to exalted states of consciousness and spiritual powers. The coming weeks will be an excellent time for you to carry out this alchemy.

I had an exchange of emails with Mr. FD about where I'm at in my bdsm activities, tolerance, journey, blah blah.

Me: I know I'm not sugar because I don't melt in the rain. I know I'm not steel because I bend over easily. Where I am between the two has yet to be fully discovered.

Him: I liked the images. I got an answer to the question you raise, in the same image language. I am not going to let you know what it is but would be curious to see what you guess it is. you have three guesses.

I thought about this long and hard and too hard and then too long and then my dreams were thinking about it and then sleep became imagery and mathematics.

Me: .... Where am I between the two?..... 1) I'm between two ears. (the mind can be trained to move into all kinds of situations with a variety of reactions) 2) I'm a willow. (strong, but bending; changing over seasons/reasons) 3) .... Can I have a hint?

Him: A pussy willow or a weeping willow? I even give you two hints, nice man that I am: It's between 1) and something that is sometimes below 2) You mentioned sugar and steel which are non-quantifiables.

I never guessed it correctly and he hasn't told me. I have a slight feeling that the above horoscope description is accurate: "For a tree's branches to reach to heaven, its roots must reach to hell."

I have no idea what to expect for this weekend. He has selected from my wardrobe. I have bought an enormous dildo since it was one of many objects he left behind in NL when he moved to CH. This thing has given me a mind warp. He knows my bumstar is off-limits so I won't be anally impaled on it. My cunnie is definitely NOT that long - or wide even maybe. My mouth and throat are like baby bird's mouth next to it. So, all I can fathom is that I will be beaten with this gigantic instrument... or, I'm simply a delivery boy for a toy he misses. Either way, my imagination has been carried away and stressed to its limits in conceiving the possibilities.

It's interesting. I was so very excited early last week imagining our time together and now that it had to be rescheduled, I have more time for my rational mind to creep in and take over, which makes me more controlled and pensive and less spastically excited. I want to be the latter. I'm sure I will be on the 3-hour train ride. So, perhaps this is a good thing. All signs pointing to yes: weather will be sunny there this weekend, I am done with my period, his back is better and he's not sick with the flu anymore. Now, if only the scheduled French greve tomorrow will refrain from carrying into the next day of transport activities.

A friend from back in Madison is in Paris right now. We're off to dinner tonight. We had sushi on Tuesday night followed by lovely (expensive) whiskey near the Opera. Because I haven't had any live person to talk to about this, and because he's an expat of sorts - passing through Paris for the Middle East - it's easier to talk without filters. But my mind is circling around all kinds of questions, expectations, dreams, hopes, realities, sensibilities, curiosities, fears, etc. I know I'll get instructions tomorrow to ponder for Friday. But it will only fuel more questions, I'm sure.

Goddamn this is exciting.

I have my back-up plan in case things don't work out between us. My ex-flatmate in Geneve. I told her basically what I was doing and if I could crash with her, need be. She emailed back that it was no problem and to have fun with my hilarious activities. I love her. Classic.

I think after dinner and drinks tonight, I'll come back and write out all the questions buzzing through my head. It might help to get them out.

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