Been sleepless for a while now.........

Some relief in sight, though. As it turns out I took a long trip to Florida this weekend. Had the time of my life. Didn’t realize how badly I needed some " recreation ".     A change of faces, things moving at a faster pace. Some things out of the ordinary. The ride to Florida was enjoyable within itself. Watching the asphalt unroll before me. New places, different sounds and smells. Another side of life to be turned over and examined as my ol' gal ate up the miles and took me to palm coast. For a super sensory person like me, it was a feast of things to see. 

Got to Florida, crossed the inlet bridge to the ocean, felt exhilarated and elated. So much different from the monotony I've been cradling for so long. The air smelled so clean and somehow more alive than what I was used to. 

Got to palm coast and met Lisa and Tony in person for the first time...

I've known Lisa for a little over a year. We met in some nameless chat room and started with the usual fair. Some sticky conversation in an im box. That led to an actual friendship between two like-minded people (she’s the single most " real " person I have ever met.) Her and Tony are very genuine down to earth people. Honest, open, passionate and friendly. Whenever I have written something, I know I can always bounce it off of Lisa. She’s impossible to offend. How perfect is that? With all the years of work and single mindedness, I've failed to develop many real friendships that can transcend distance, differences and lifestyles. It feels great to have the feeling cemented in my mind that I have some friends I can trust. 

The past nine years in Alabama have been an exercise in deceit and misguided loyalty for me.     Eight long years of being operated by remote control and a few months of slopping through a " just good enough to get the bills paid " job.     And family obligations - well just fucking shoot me, there's no end to those. So I think as time surfaces before me in the near future, I have some inspiration to justify a little more self-servitude. Do for myself and let time do what it will: any man who won't do what it takes to be happy just isn't worth a damn. 

Riding home today, listening to the engine drone, the rain on the road hissing under the tires, recalling the events of the day and night before (the events I could remember, mind you) I found myself with that mental itch that meant it was time to purge.

Time to write.

Sometimes it takes a " push " before I can find the words to bring thoughts and images to life. This weekend, I think I got a fucking violent shove. Something kicked the levers all over and advanced the teeth by a notch or two in the infernal machine. The rusting cogs and gears all grinding and squealing as the bolt is thrown and the doors fly open. The hammer falls and the jet-black spike is driven home...

After my little weekend getaway this is what I came up with as I drove home.

Driving home in the rain, watching the thick mist roll down and the lightning play across the dull gray sky was like watching some great beast slowly dying before my eyes. Knees trembling, breathing heavy and ragged. Slowly, painfully bending and kneeling to the ground. At heart just wanting to slowly fade and stop hurting, meet the hard solid comfort of the ground and fall into deep sleep. Just to die and be at peace. The lightning would arc brilliantly across the sky, like a glint of intelligence still alive in the old dying monster's eyes.blood caked under its nails, its teeth bared. Still wicked and sharp. Fearsome even near death....

Fade to black

Every time I close my eyes I find myself standing over my father's grave. Sometimes telling myself I don't know why. I wasn't just going to Florida to get out of my own monotony; I wanted to see life as different from his own as I could. I've come to some painful realizations driving through the rain today. 

Dreams of pitch black nights, face covered in black greasepaint and eyes gleaming under a shapeless cotton hood, the blade clamped tightly between the teeth, hands eager and aching to be shed of the damnable urge to draw across the kiss of the blade. Bright red drops floating through the air so insanely slow and the forced hiss of a last, unexpected breath, a lifeless thud and the patter of feet sliding into the shadows and melting into the night. 

Watching through the leaves, listening and tasting the air. Draw the bolt and hold an eternal breath of air. Kiss the trigger for what seems like a million years then squeeze. Watch the world come unhinged in a glut of shrapnel and blood, a silent hail of blood and bullets and a rain of fire and hell. Draw a bead on a nameless withering soul from a quarter mile away, exhale slowly and let the bullet glide through the air like some hellish butterfly. The faint muzzle flash like a sickly lightning bug. A perverse comet of lead, filled with a gram of mercury and capped in paraffin wax, hurtling at time warping speed...

Then the infinite silence as an empty shell slowly slumps over and falls to the floor. A crazed inkblot of red and gray and a trailing smear of red on the wall behind him. 

Pedophiles long employed by the state.
Executors of wills for the wealthy by ill gotten means.
Rapists of women and girls escaped from the weak hold of the state and lying on their bellies in the damp summer grass under stark moonlight.
People who hate so well it shows on their face like a scar. 
The soul reavers in flesh who bend and eventually break the strongest of family beliefs.
They were all bad people.

In my dreams they all stood to benefit the world by dying.
Disappearing.
Melting away into obscurity.

Driving home today I realized that it was never the pursuit of a true justice. It was never to right an unthinkable injustice or change the course of something terribly wrong. It was all a selfish, violating penetrative act to hide something from myself.

Every time, every night, every breath, every bullet, every drop of death poured onto a steering wheel with an eye dropper or a door handle with a swab, every ounce of manic death cooked into a patch or every ounce of plastique in a telephone receiver, hello is Mr. Nobody at home, yes this is him, click boom sorry right number, every fervent breath, every time. 

I was killing him over and over again. 
The rapist of my sisters, the abuser of my mother. The abandoner of my dreams.
all I ever knew of my own mortality, the one who left me stranded with ten women who could never truly understand me.

And I killed him every day for eight long years.

It had to stop

So as this poor old beast in the Florida sky draws its last hitching breath, I think it's time I let my own monster die.

It’s time to change my life
.
Besides...

I've seen the darker, hidden treasures of life. Always so briefly. I went to an underground club in Pensacola years ago. How very disappointing, little bunches of cliquish people, like diseased grapes clustered together on a knotted vine. Their arrogance so profound you could hear it in there voices and feel it in the air around them.

But not in Jacksonville. Having familiar friends close by was so nice, comforting. Feeling the slow, soft estrogen surge in the air. Watching the skin fairies float in one by one and in pairs. All eye candy and close enough to be touched. And being receptive to touch. All the laughing, the genuine smiles and hugs. The generous kisses and happy faces. The warm hair and smooth skin all within reach, warmth to touch and the pulsing music throbbing through the air and massaging my skin. The fragrances, the bright crystalline smiles and the hard warm grinding, pert nipples and supple skin just barely under my tongue. The brief, forceful rasping of a strange woman's tongue in my mouth...all so damned alien to what I have programmed myself to believe is normal life. So totally alien. And I like it.

 (Things speed up now, downshift, feel the surge and floor the pedal, fly by a line of cars and watch as the world somehow slows down around me and I am in my own surreal tunnel of time, the old dead beast lying in the distance behind me, growing small in the rear view mirror, insignificant somehow. I’m so far away now, he can't disgust me with his memory, his death and decay)

 And I open my eyes to find myself buried drunk in a chair with two determinedly edible brunettes and an entirely unfamiliar blonde writhing against me. My chin brushing against the warm swell of a total stranger's tits and a firm muscular ass under my fingers. (The infernal machine catches another gear and speeds up yet again) and I clearly now remember kissing some slender brunette on the neck while pouring a bottle full of water down her shirt.

All the while there is a familiar face watching me from somewhere and smiling. The inhibitions being pulled from me by the booze like an unraveling string. And when I close my eyes at this moment the infernal machine reaches its hellish peak of speed, grinding forward and a blinding rush that blurs the line between these memories and the dark eyed demon in my imagination, the bastard leering creature whipping the night into a hellish frenzy of sex sweat sugar blood milk leather latex booze panties and mud. Opening my eyes and grinding away against some rabid supercharged fuck machine with insanely hungry eyes, the scent of man's cologne about her skin and hair, mouthing mute words that are lost in the chaotic music, her fuckable mouth framing unheard words as my hands slide up her flat stomach to the delicious swell of her breasts, nipples hard under my fingers. Fade to black and black to a shadowy corner by a small round table with the fuck machine sitting in my lap sucking animal kisses from my mouth, my finger finding her hot slippery clit, rubbing it furiously with my thumb and sliding my index finger into that pink velvet seam and slowly grinding her g spot, listening as she makes small barely audible grunts while I massage her candy spot, pull my finger out of her feverish cunt and purse it against her lips and we share a gluttonous kiss. Fade to black and black to warm tan light and the fuck machine is handcuffed to my friend's bed with a maniac smile on her face and a puddle of cum in her belly button. 

Lying curled up next to her is some sweet nameless thing she ate for dinner and shared the dessert with me, her legs are clamped around my neck and I am greedily turning her into a living sticky hot puddle of fuck with my tongue, sweet fragrant girlie cum plastered to my chin, I rise and slide over her body, our bodies clamped together smearing sex between us and meddling the air with the warm sweet fragrance of a rampant fuck, she sucks her sweet sex of my chin, I rub her firm stomach and knead tacky cum onto her tits, straddle her and rub my cock against her chest, her neck, her face, her mouth, lathering her in a sticky hot veil of cum and her own sex, as she cradles my balls and inhales my cock in a greedy delicious slide, fucking her mouth and lingering in the delirious draw like sliding into some exotic oil, her warm sweet lips pursed and she kisses the head of my cock as I explode a hot blast of demon fuck onto her darling face........

And fade back to black and I am driving home in the rain

Daydreaming

(The machine grinds to a halt, steam rising from the rails, the air smells of oil and sweet musky sex. The dark eyed demon closes his eyes, and for a short time, the dark eyed demon sleeps)

So maybe I ought to come to Florida a little more often. I think there are some things here I should explore. Definitely a good chance of meeting a kindred spirit here, I think.

I should make a point to thank my friends for such a memorable time.