one tenacious baby mama

Free The Newark 4...I'll leave this post up for a while

2009-02-14T15:01:00.005-05:00

I guess attention, action and support are finite in Black community. No groundswell of support for these young Black lesbians. Heaven forbid we support Black lesbians.

Free the Newark (Black) Lesbian 4

Recreational interlude...

2008-07-06T12:52:00.001-04:00

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

Metanoia...hmmm....

2008-07-05T17:00:00.003-04:00

I've been reading and crying and thinking and reading and smiling and remembering and coming into contact with some bits of me I'm trying to not so much understand as sit alongside. I'm asking myself questions about how my erotic functions, what kindles my desires, what exactly it is I'm seeking and why it seems that this quest takes me to multiple others...as if splicing together the bits of a wide, broad and deep moist puzzle...energetically.

I have unforetold, unexpected hard-ons, cravings I don't get. But in truth, I don't think I need to fully wrap my mind around any of them in order to fully feed...surrender.

I want more flushed cheeks electronically administered through words flashing on my screen...
I want to fill the ass of a man whose beautifully shaven hard cock throbs painfully and remains untouched...
I want to be spread, lubed, entered and consensually violated until I cry, shriek, convulse, distance from my own breathing process and remember who I am...not a dominated orifice born to pleasure male others, but a spirited, emotional, verbal, flesh, blood, bone rutting animal...
I want...more.
I am greedy with want.
I am enjoying recognizing my wants, desires and needs.
I am enjoying articulating what I want.

But obviously there are more than a few things I do not want.

I do not want to be raped. I do not want to be killed. I do not want to be physically maimed. I do not want to be tortured or traumatized. I do not want to be virally infected. I do not want to be humiliated. I don not want to be valued less. I do not want to be ridiculed. I do not want to be ostracised. I do not want to have my children taken away. I do not want to be laughed at. I do not want to be seen as a carrier of disease.

In addition...

I do not want to serve as patriarchal cunt/receptacle for errant masturbatory sperm ejaculated without particular intent other than to cum which were probably better off spilling into his hand or onto dirty sheets while visions of mammary implants dance in his head after which he will shower or invite me to shower or more likely turn over and fall into a stunted yet surprisingly deep and untroubled sleep...rosebud tight ass still virginal and unused. :)

I WANT!...which is, of course, very different than need which really should be reserved for things like breathing, peeing, shitting, feeling, eating, sleeping, moving, heart beating...but...that...fast beating heart thang...eyes fluttering, limbs convulsing, head banging, spirit cussing in tongues...can I classify rampant fucking as a life systems absolute downright need?

hmmm...regardless...
It is within my power to envision, verbalize and create what I want.
I'm a fucking smart cookie. So damn right I'm gonna be able to find a way to connect with what I'm after. After all...it resides in...me.
I want me full of terrifyingly delicious sensation.
I want me full of mind seering imagination.
I want me embracing my ability to connect with my own erotic...don't give it away. Keep it close...hold it, suck it, deep throat it, ride it, rub it, moan for it, beg for it, love it, internalize it, contextualize it, never makes excuses for it.

Oh! And if you haven't already realized...
I'm becoming again...

A few nights ago I picked up bitch goddess and began to read. Now realize I'm not a bitch goddess in the classic dominant/top sense of the word. Draw close. I want to whisper a secret in your ear...no one can ever know. :)
See...
I'm an unrepentant, completely greedy and lascivious bottom/submissive girl...(I know it's true because I got an instant hard-on when I typed that...)
I'm a bottom. :)
I'm a bottom! whoo-HOO!

Dear gawd! Nobody write me all scandalized trying to persuade me about the necessity of carrying my real world, outer world, clothed world, blogverse persona right on into my love making.

That's so tiresome. So horrifying. So murderous.

Don't I get to put down the mantle of amazon warrior anywhere? Holy Shite!
Tonight I was talking to Papi about his need for the mama he never had...his invented mama. He tries to make me her. Sometimes I play along. Other times I just...can't...do... it. I can't put his head on my breast. I can't hold his hand and guide him. I can't. I just can't.
I told him that I need. I NEED.

I said that I have very rarely if ever felt enfolded, cared for, protected by an entity equally or more grounded than me, more centered than me, more powerFULL than me who was willing to bring personal power (as opposed to damaging authoritarian power) to bear on my behalf, in my defense, because it was clear I needed it, because it was clear that although I am clearly bad by myself, a nurturing strand of assuring words typed and entered with me in mind, a shoulder offered, a persistent presence would ease my mind and give me peace.

This happened on so few occasions, without me begging for it, without me tantrumming and acting out for it...I crave it. I need it. I desire it. I fetishize it. I get hard and excited and kittenish and open wide at the sight or sound of it.

So you see...
In my favourite dreams I'm a bottom/submissive...mostly. :)
hmmm...
Last night I read something that put me in mind of all the married men I've encountered with their contracts implying the presence of dutifully, legally MONOGAMOUSLY wedded (assumed heterosexual) female partners perpetually in tow.

I thought about the narrowness of monogamy. I thought about needs clearly or not so clearly expressed by these men to others not their wifely units. I thought about the place where their needs coincide, merge, resemble, parallel my own. I thought about strategies, ways to get needs met without blasting their precious prioritized contracts to the lowest nether regions of infidelitous hell. :) I thought about getting more of what I want.

There is a level of word-filled creativity allowed in my neck of the woods that I don't see mirrored back to me by those who do monogamy, vanilla sex, traditional...no...constructed as acceptable relationship formation.
hmmm...
There are ways relationships can be crafted, made to order...however imperfectly through full and open verbalization or keyboarding on the part of whosoever shall choose to interrelate from this day forward for as long as all involved parties both see and define as generative, healing, stimulating and fun. :)
(cheshire cat grin...)
There is a certain kind of space to build according to need that really isn't usually considered part of most monogamously married relationships. Actually, it almost seems as if these relationships are completely predicated on a particular kind of stiffness, restriction, constriction, control, authoritarian limitation as its own reward. If you can tighten your belt, avert your eyes, keep your legs crossed and your treacherously blood swollen nature in your pants your relationship will be an astounding success.

In a model completely predicated on deprivation if you can resist any animal urges you will have the respect of spouse, children, extended family, family friends, co-workers, shop owners, church clerics and neighbourhood busy bodies who will never be able to chat about the comings and goings at your place on lazy summer afternoons when everyone is at work or walking around eyes wide shut zombies sleep walking.

In truth from where I'm typing, cranky, aroused, fascinated, stymied, sullen, hard-on as erect as ever :) it seems as if the success of these relationships are judged according to how well two individuals can bear up under a particular level of deprivation, isolation, alienation from all (emotionally or physically naked) others.

It seems to my bratty self (oh my teenager is really enjoying this...hee, hee, hee...) like marriage should really be defined as the act of resisting (externally located intense stimulation, interaction, desire, satisfaction which is all constructed as) "temptation".

Temptation.
I think that since I'm checking these unavailable untouchables (...oh, I think I'm now officially wooing the bi-curious hottie...he is special and dedicated and I wrote him and told him I want to try again...I thought about him, re-viewed his eagerly offered gifts and found myself once more nursing an erection...giggles. In truth, he's been the most clear of the bunch even when he was feeling unclear. I've had the most conversation and interaction with him...I didn't have to work to be attracted to him and he was/is attracted to me...so, I guess I'm back on again with the marrieds)...
So, yah...
Since I'm checking and flirting with the unavailable untouchables this must make me -- A Temptress.
I'm A Temptress. :)
I'm a temptress who will top when it suits her so bi-curious hotties who need training in the fine manly arts of sucking her cock are within acceptable date parameters.

But still...I'd much more prefer to bottom or submit.
Submit.
Give me what I want...please.
I would like to willingly...knowingly...intentionally...kneel...naked...buttocks to heels and wait, head bowed.

When I spend so much time wielding copious amounts of personal power and defining what it means for me to be politically conscious and resisting with all I have in me...
Knots form in these shoulders, acid roils in this stomach, ankles swell, bones in feet grate uncomfortably, back stiffens, wrist bones scream, tears shed or unshed never fully empty, never toxic spill what lies in here with me...rage builds...angry words stabbed onto the surface of this screen never really allow me full relief...the monster wimmin fanged and clawed are all dressed up with nowhere to go...rip a hole in someone's throat. They're in here with me and they like a good "party" just like all good Middle Passage children nursing inherited insanity do. :)

So if some wonderful human being, powerFULL, confident (fer real), humble, compassionate, ethical, emotional, perverse was to step to me and say:

"There, there, little one. Put it down Little One. Put down the baggage for a minute, an hour, a day. Put it down and crawl away, panting, head hung low. Put it down and stand feeling nothing where there was weight and way too much care. Come here and sit at my knee. For this stretch of time I will keep you safe and secure."

If someone who knew how to nurture without profoundly harming, who could resist the societally indoctrinated urge to truly and unconsensually subjugate, could look on me sitting powerFULL yet choosing for a moment to be small and vulnerable...if they could see a gem worth protecting and say:

"Put it down and just back away from it. I will bear witness as you do it and not laugh or kick you in the gut or pull out a machete or gun or hard, unkind word."

Would I kneel before such a One?
Hell. Yeah.

Would I kneel and cry and roll over onto my back and show my soft underbelly to One who walked with enough consciousness of their own power that they could see me standing, crawling, kneeling with personal power intact but not on overt display and...let...me...live, head held high, pride intact once our fun was done?

Hell. Yeah.

Discipline, head bowed, careful service to One as powerFULL as I am in their own right would be a languorous pleasure...

Could I allow another to serve and experience this delight? Would I allow them to serve? Could I top so that they could touch rock bottom, choose not to stay, choose when to draw back and rise again refreshed?

I could.
But...
Like I said...I'm a massive bottom. :) (I just got a chill typing that. I wonder what idiotic simpleton stranger will attempt to step to me in ways that gets their head or an offending hand separated from their body? (fangy wolf woman grin) bottom/submissive is very, very different than pathetic, disempowered doormat. No one try my patience.)

So, like I was saying...
I'm envisioning what I desire and re-reading the books on my shelves...

Oh! And puLEEZ. Nobody contact me to do a radical anti-oppression based critique of the following excerpt from bitch goddess.

That's so easy.
I'm assuming that at least a hand full of the folks who are reading this can do that over breakfast and still have time for a lovely and rewarding (aren't anally located endorphin rushes the absolute best?) bowel movement after which they can jet out the door and meet their day.

So no fucking way waste my time showing me your fancy analysis behind which you can still manage to effectively hide all the shadowy, confused, bloody nooks and confusing crannies of your desires, not name the specifics of your own tangled erotic or help me figure out how best to recognize, embrace and openly celebrate mine.

Otay?
So, like...this is some of what I read...

"It has become fashionable of late to speak of BDSM not merely as an expression of sexuality, but also in terms of an ethical structure, a basis for relationships both erotic and "mundane." By exploring power exchange in a consensual erotic forum, the argument goes, we uncover the myriad power dynamics at work in the rest of our lives as well. Yet this dynamic works equally well in reverse. As more people learn about BDSM and accept it as a responsible and fulfilling sexual option, it is vital that BDSM practitioners examine their own ethical assumptions and articulate them to potential partners and to the larger community in which they move.

BDSM practitioners often pride themselves on their outstanding communication skills, and indeed, the willingness and ability to speak frankly about sexual and emotional matters is woefully rare in this puritanical culture of ours. But when we negotiate, what exactly is it that we try to communicate to our partner? More often than not, negotiation (especially for "casual" scenes) consists of little more than a laundry list of acceptable and unacceptable implements and epithets. While few would deny the importance of this information in clarifying physical and psychological limits, the result is at best, a meager menu of possibilities.

For those who are drawn primarily to dominance and submission (as opposed to physical sadomasochism), negotiation might include a bit more detail: roles, scripting, the parameters of service. Still, for those who desire "deep" transformative submission, these externals can prove inadequate. This is particularly true when satisfying service becomes a spiritual discipline.

In many traditions of both East and West, service is the basis of religious life. Certainly priest and priestess are, despite their outward appearance of authority, essentially servants of their god and of their spiritual community. Those individuals called to a life of prayer often accept a vow of absolute obedience to their superior. This is the case among Christian monastics who derive their way of life from St. Benedict's Rule and many others.

The goal of service in this context is not glory or fame or riches or any passing satisfaction of our physical or intellectual hungers. The goal is metanoia, conversation of life. By conversion, I do not mean a blinding bolt of light on the road to Damascus - one St. Paul is surely all we need -- but the slow, painstaking process by which one's heart and mind are re-formed to reflect more perfectly one's professed beliefs and values.

I propose that dominant/submissive relationships of the long-term variety can provide the stability and commitment necessary to effect such a transformation. I must quickly add this caveat: I am not speaking of occasional "play" or mere erotic titillation. And if one's spiritual path leads primarily to chemically induced trance, what I am suggesting here will prove wholly unsuitable, if not downright dangerous.

I'm talking about a move from recreational slavehood to ethically accountable service. In doing so, I am fully aware that the vast majority of people are more interested in simple sexual satisfaction than in talk of spiritual evolution. A blessing on their heads, I say! A sexually fulfilled world must surely be a more peaceful one. But for those few dominants who are familiar with spiritual discipline and are able to view themselves not as sex goddesses or avenging angels, but as loving teachers and guides, the task of direction may be a gift. For those few submissive souls who yearn to be first and foremost good, mindful, and obedient people, of service to the world as well as to a Mistress (my insert: or Sir), to be a spiritual servant is a worthy goal.

Where do we find models for this sort of relationship? Certainly very few people have the time or inclination to plumb the depths of monastic history. Even if they did, they would find precious little by way of dominant female role models -- and after all, they burned Jeanne d'Arc at the stake.

There is one secular movement, though, that grew up alongside medieval Christian monasticism in Western Europe and borrowed at least as much as it contributed to its iconography. That movement is courtly love. Courtly love forms the basis of what can be called the cult of romantic love, the same obsession we see today in its degenerate Hallmark incarnation every February 14th. Courtly love is closely linked to the cult of the Virgin Mary and other devotions that blossomed during this period, such as devotion to the child Jesus and the image of Jesus as Mother.

While scholars differ in their interpretations of the particulars, the basic outlines are clear enough. A young nobleman, often a member of the lesser gentry, conceives a grand passion for a woman of high estate. (The archetypal courtly relationship is female-dominant/male-submissive, although the roles can obviously be adapted for other erotic dyads.) Typically, the lady is inaccessible to the lover, either because she is married or because the difference in their social standing is too great. In many cases, such as that of Tristan and Isolde, Lancelot and Guinevere, or Diarmid and Grainne (my insert: obviously all the writer's references come right out of european history, myth and legend...so nobody write me pointing that out...that's so easy...like shooting rubber duckies in a bathtub...), the lady is married to the lover's liege lord, making the love doubly forbidden.

The result of this unrequited adoration of the feminine is a great outpouring of creativity on the part of the lover, in poetry, song, or feats of arms..."

There was more. But I need to stop transcribing this piece from bitch goddess by Christina Abernathy. It's called "Toward a Courtly Ethic of Dominance and Submission" And again, I had to bring my own critique of pretty much everything. So, feel free to do the same...really I don't understand how anyone reads a thing (even Black conscious, feminist or lefty publications) without doing just that.

Anywayz...comment at will...especially on the juicily fucked up, uncomfortable odd bits.

Oh, and LP? You there?
I have to respond to what you wrote about Wanted. And I will.

But I also want to say that I see you dipping a toe into my erotic even as yu seem still bent on relating to me as neutered Black mother/sister/warrior/homebirther/ally. That's so strange. It doesn't work, you see. Though in truth, I see the straight Blck folks try to do it with Black queers in this city all the time...sort of an extension of the "they're perfectly fine. i don't have any problem with them, their lifestyle or what they do. i have a gay cousin. i just don't think i should have to see what they do or have it all up in my face. they should just keep it in the bedroom. it's not really for public consumption."
:)
Soooo...
I'm really dying to know what you think of all this...stuff I'm blogging out loud. :) What's happening inside your skull, girl? How are you doing?

Glory, I got your email...

2008-07-05T16:11:00.002-04:00

Hi Glory,
I got your email. I hear your frustration over my not communicating off blog. I wonder about you conflating a refusal to dive into intimate communion (friendship) with a refusal to be real. Curious.

I'm real. Very real. Very much present.

In part this means that I don't take friendships lightly. I actually mostly don't make friends in a snap.

This isn't specifically related to you. It's surely not about me being a sex negative feminist who is bent on disrespecting you or your blog. :)

I really don't engage with anyone who emails me out of the blue because they find something about me fascinating. I usually visit with them and check to see if I can get a picture of how their minds work.

I invite them to crawl all over this blog and engage at will with as many words as they have. I tend to choose friends based on their actions and on the ways they engage with my...stuff...not based on whether they find me interesting or have decided to come near me.

So apologies if this felt like a rebuff. I can't speak for Papi not communicating, really...he was very fascinated by you and your blog...the only thing I'd say is that typed words aren't really his happy place.

hmmm...
I remember inviting you over to chat with all the Middle Passage children who came to "visit" when I turned forty (or just before I did). Conversations were heating up over here and I viewed this as a prime opportunity to see how you moved without prematurely commiting to engaging with you as "friends". Fellow blogger is a good step in between as far as I can see because it really sucks when someone comes in close and then I have to literally nudge them right on back out again because they came in too close and then I realized they had nothing to offer me on my journey and that they only came because they thought there was something I could give to them...without me realizing it or saying yes to any transaction.

So, I invited you to play with others and me...an orgy of words, public play, safe space...not so initimate...safe for me, less drama, less potential teat sucking, less potential difficult or unrewarding exchanges based on mutual (mis)understanding. I figured it allowing both of us to get to see each other without wrapping all our stuff around each other.

In truth, I was disappointed that you didn't come visit. But I don't harbour any resentment. I'm still not up for an off blog interaction with you, though. I'm still completely open to engaging with your words, thoughts, ideas first in public space. If you'd like to visit and dialogue, you're more than welcome to do so at will.

Be well,
darkdaughta

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

Red veneer complete...

2008-07-05T15:23:00.004-04:00

So I dyed my hair red...or rather, I'm in the process of doing it. First I bleached the hell out of the roots one night while Stinkapee was at Nana Ophelias. Two nights later I dyed it red. Not vivid enough. Next step? Manic Panic. Then it'll be REAL RED.

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

When I was a child my father had this single in his record collection...

2008-07-05T15:04:00.002-04:00

I think he was practicing it for a gig at a bar somewhere in the city. This was the first 45 I remember playing on a record player. Every note, chord, beat, word is imprinted on my brain committed to memory along with other seemingly unrelated bits of...stuff.

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

Question...

2008-07-05T11:02:00.004-04:00

Why did the chicken cross the road?

Pleaser rephrase.

But of course...
Why did the chicken head gyal pickney keep dashing 'cross tha road?

Oh, that's easy. It's because at a very tender age she realized, to her absolute shock and volcanic (I knew I'd get to use it somewhere...) delight, that the road had multiple, interlocking, symbiotic, contradictory, complex, overlapping, interdimensional sides. Concurrently she intuited that she really did not have to choose one "side" over another. She merely had to learn how to let all of what she saw flow through her and allow herself to be changed for the better by where she had travelled.

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

This one is dedicated to ME...

2008-07-04T13:51:00.002-04:00

just delete any bits that don't fit with my self love program, or any odd masculinity bits. :)

(this is exactly what my father looked like in the seventies. he danced like them, too.)

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

Another newly applied veneer...

2008-07-04T13:39:00.005-04:00

I'll be over at the Peace Tree in a matter of minutes...

2008-07-04T11:59:00.000-04:00

Hi All!,
Come visit with me and see what Iposted. Comment at will here...

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

Muchas gracias, Poetry Man...

2008-07-04T09:21:00.004-04:00

"SOBRE EL PREMIO ARTE Y PICO:

Ya les he comentado como surgio este premio, y gracias a ustedes, esta cumpliendo ampliamente las espectativas.
Tambien, gracias a ustedes, me he embarcado en un maravilloso viaje conociendo artesanas de gran valor y con una creatividad increible.
Confieso que los primeros dias me dedique a visitar uno a uno los sitios galardonados y a dejar comentarios, pero el tiempo se disparaba y pasaba horas aqui frente a la pc sin poder hacer otra cosa mas que escribir y maravillarme.
Es por eso que decidi escribir aqui para que,cada una de las/os blogueras que entran sepan, ante todo, que estoy inmensamente feliz por saber que han recibido este humilde premio y que visito a todos los premiados.
Como dije al principio, estoy mas que agradecida con el maravilloso viaje de emociones y sorpresas que me estan regalando dia a dia.
A todas, GRACIAS!!!
Y disfruten su premio, que muy muy merecido lo tienen!"
Once again after years of study...high school...me llamo Isabella, como te llamas...and university studies, too, I get the gist of what's written up above. Just don't ask me to translate. I need lots and lots of practice.

Dearest Poetry Man,
You're wonderful and I think you and all your various creations rock. I'm glad you think my blog and I do, too. :) But, I'm not celibate...anymore. (giggles...hee, hee!)

I accept the award and now I have to think about who I want to give my heartfelt appreciation to...
With both high (un)holy national days celebrating the theft of Native lands, the genocide of various Native peoplings, the starvation, criminalization, imprisonment and cultural genocide of many of those who remain which led to the eventual kidnapping, forced labour, mass murder and cultural genocide and general crazed and colonial fuk'd-uppedness of the peoples I come from (myself included) which in turn led to the formation of this capitalist, corporate, consumerist monster that is poisoning the land, us and our children all of which is completely predicated on the ownership and control of wimmin's bodies, compulsory heterosexuality as a way to ensure the birth of sufficient utterly brainless malleable worker bodies all completely reliant on the Matrix, willing to give their lives, their freedom, their sanity and their self respect in order to safeguard its continued existence, I think I'll need to focus on blogs that focus specifically on land rights, Native autonomy and resistance organizing. Yeah...
I don't visit and read enough of any of these. There are so many. I really have no fucking excuse. Less masturbatory prose, darkdaughta and more seeking in all the right places.
(Can't we find a nice balance? Yeah, but you're not being balanced right now. Just give me a bit of time. I just need to find the potentials I'm seeking and I'll calm right down. Promise. Fine, fine. Just dont' take too long. I won't)
So, consider this a bookmark for me as well as a big flashing red sign pointing in the direction of these defiant and politicized warrior wordsmiths saying: Don't stay here. Go T/HERE!

INDIGENOUS ACTION MOVEMENT Coast Salish Territory
Intercontinental Cry
Oil Sands Truth - Shut Down the Tar Sands
liberated yet?
kumtux
Arte Y Pico. Que buena cosa....did I get that right? I always mess up masculine and feminine...as they really are in reality, fer sure.

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

I really should have been born a gay man...

2008-07-04T09:17:00.000-04:00

I found this over at The Peace Tree...

2008-07-03T11:40:00.000-04:00

Oops...

2008-07-03T11:17:00.002-04:00

I was in the process of making date plans for this weekend. I was excited about it. But I think that's gonna be a no go. :) I'm not sure, but I think and Papi and Ophelia agree that maybe the final straw was me explainig that I'd spent years wearing men's and boys clothes, wearing men's shoes, with my hair cut in a fade. hee, hee, hee!

I think he probably has this completely not true picture of me as this giant butch who stomps around in dresses. I'm a giant femme who stomps around in dresses. Hee, hee. (giggles)

Papi was like...Teej, do you really wanna get fucked or are you just playing around?

Darn!

I really wanted to meet that one. But he didn't write back after that email and when I emailed him, he said he was going out of town on business. (silent belly laughs cuz I'm in the library listening to Rage Against the Machine as I type...)

sigh...
I really to wanna have my ankles hoisted up in the air. But I don't want to present as other than who I am while it's happening. Once I start talking it's not like they're not gonna notice that there's somethin' about this mary. I'd prefer to not give them any uncomfortable shocks. So I try to explain...stuff.

And I had my dress all picked out and everything. It had massive amounts of cleaveage showing.
Oh well. :)

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

Oh, I'm getting hits, aplenty...

2008-07-03T10:38:00.002-04:00

Loving Pecola has left a new comment on your post "I've been updating my profile on an internet datin...":

I think it's a great summary and could be left alone.

But also:

Poly is implied (because you mentioned seminalson), but not clearly
mentioned...which if mentioned might make clearer your stance on (UN)monogamy and avoid any question about whether you're looking for an "affair." (I'm glad you added that last sentence about not ducking and hiding and being discreet because that clarified some of it - which is what made me think it's fine as-is too)

I hope you get some 'hits' :o)

Yeah...

The spector of the "AFFAIR" hangs over all of what I do. Fucking drove me batty in the spring when I tried really clumsily to invite a man in my neighbourhood out for coffee. Oh GAWD! I royally fucked it up by having a massive anxiety attack afterwards, wondering if he would classify me as "wife stepping out on her mate".

But in truth, I'm glad it got so badly botched and that I still go into absolute internal paroxysms of lust minglied with shyness and utter discomfort when I see him so that I can't actually speak to him. He probably thinks I'm a complete dweeb. :)

He's still completely phyne, in this very pierced, tattooed, sullen, pouty way. But months ago I TOLE Paps he was Black...Paps said "Nah...he's Spanish or Italian or Portuguese or somethin'..."

Why did I listen to Papi. You' know I've been on my "I'm gonna completely avoid taking on anymore Middle Passage, colonial, historical, herstorical, familial, community crap aka the stuff than I already have to deal with courtesy of my family and Papi's family and my shite and Papi's shite"...

Just let me have my crazy ass vacation from the shite for a few fucking moments, I figured. So, I decided I would only cruise non-Black men.

So when Paps said that he wasn't Black, I filed every single last blasted subtle signifyer I had already picked up on in spades right on up to the lips that really deserve to be bitten until just an eensy teensy drop of blood shows (hee, hee, hee!) and decided that I would work within Papi's denial based paradigm and understand this man I knew to be Black as not actually Black.

Fired off the note.

Then I got...stuff...nonverbal...thick...uncomfortable...silent...stuff...

Papi and I were like...hunh?

But Papi went on a search and discover which actually involved asking the man where he was from.

He's Black.

We were like...otay. Hence the...stuff. Now we get it.

I practically kicked Papi. Paps! I was trying to avoid the...stuff and landed right in the middle of a Middle Passage sibs...stuff. EEEEEEKkkkk! The stuff, our stuff came for me even when I thought I was successfully avoiding it. :)

He's still looking at my ample cleavage...most days it's sort'a...visible. I'm still enjoying the wierd ass effects of our...stuff...combined...from a distance. :)

So, LP, I've gotten lots of responses. I wade through them on the daily. It's fun. They're brave people. I've only emailed one person. He didn't respond. I always try to at least respond. :)

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

Sometimes I get worried about playing with patriarchl penis possessors...

2008-07-03T10:18:00.003-04:00

Accordig to patriarchally dominated "good" mother lore, as passed down from patriarchally colonized mother to patriarchally indoctrinated daughter...
It is written that the lives, reputations and emotional well being of wimmin who choose to be slutish free agents rather than respectably and legally married whores are always forfeight at the end of the day...
Not to mention a Black woman playing ball (pun intended) with white boyz?
Many would say that could only end in ruin. (wry smile)

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

Peace (re)learned is right...

2008-07-03T10:02:00.002-04:00

thepoetryman has left a new comment on your post "The Fraternity?...or those who work on behalf of t...":

Saw this movie...not bad. Very angry on its face, mysterious, absurd,
dark, well acted, directed and produced...but if one is to safeguard peace it is not with a gun that it shall be saved. It will take relearning ourselves. Reeducating ourselves.

Violence is and will always be a tool of ignorance. Peace is its own
safety net. When it is established and taught and learned it will not need to be guarded.

Poetry Man,
I agree. You can't kill to safeguard peace. It's an oxymoron. I'm having a
hard time consuming mass media right now. And I'm a massive pop culture junkie. It's just that I keep dimension shifting out of a place of suspended disbelief and into images and ideas that don't allow me to sit easily with what I'm watching. I'm choking on what I'm consuming even as I try to swallow.

sigh...

Loving Pecola wrote me saying that she, too, had seen this movie and that in the end (spoiler imminent) Morgan Freeman's character turns and works against the powers that be. I had to stop and think about why the writers would do this. I chewed and reflected for a few days LP because frankly, given our most recent conversation thread, there was a reason why the plot's twist sounded hopeful to you. :)

I had to open my mind to thinking about Black people, about middle class Black people, about silenced Black people, about colonized Black people, about dominated Black people, about them, about you, about us, about me. (wry smile...mass amounts of pain...)

(horrific cheshire cat's grin forming...)

Of course they would put a character in place who was known for doing exactly as he was told, who was known for doing the bidding of those in power. Of course they would let those who watch and witness their moving spectacle have the release of seeing him finally doing something right.

I realize that this is what they sell Black folks. This is what they sell us in our day to day...at least those of us who will listen and behave accordingly.

Try this on for size and see if it sounds familiar:

"Keep your head low. Do as you're told. Behave. Keep your nose clean. You might have to do some jobs for us that are distasteful. You might have to screw over some people to keep your place in the queu so as to stay in our good books. But don't you see? It's all strategic. After years of doing our bidding there will be a decisive moment when you will finally be able to fight on the side of right. You will be able to resist. It will come natually even after years of internalized and willing self subjugation. You will make the right choice and all that you've done, all the wrong you've done to yourself and to others as you've accrued wealth, privilege, access, status...it will all be washed clean in a final defiant act. So, don't worry if you're old and grey when it happens. Don't worry if you've pimped yourself out and lost all respect for yourself in the meantime. Your bright and shining moment, one moment in a whole lifetime of collusion will come. But in the meantime follow all the rules and keep your head low. And...if by chance you live a whole life of collusion and that moment never clearly shows itself. Don't worry about it. You did some respectable work and had a long and illustrious career. You have a pension now. Don't sweat it. At least you got out alive"

I know people who have lived whole lifetimes according to this way of being. They understand that it's pretty much too late and that they really never grew the ballz they needed to do the work of truly resisting. It's sad. Pathetic even.

I have made the acquaintance of younger people who have been fed this lie. It's sad. I try as best as I can to at least get them to be honest about the path they've committed themselves to.

sigh...

But I don't have a well-paying full-time job, a respectable reputation, a well situated family to back me up and make my words seem more noteworthy. So, it's hard to get my point across sometimes. :)

LP, hope yes. Denial about what we choose to do and all the reasons why, never.

Hang in.

Oh GAWD! You recognized the questions?...

2008-07-03T09:49:00.002-04:00

CJ has left a new comment on your post "I've been updating my profile on an internet datin...":

Darkdaughta -

Hey, I'm on that site too!

My handle there is barbequehair...don't ask. ;)

Think you've given a pretty in-depth overview of yourself...only thing I
might add/make clear is that you are poly, and maybe a brief overview of that concept for the underinformed (otherwise known as rock liver-unders :)).

Good luck, happy searching, much love,

CJ.

Dear barbeque hair, (that's funny. :)) I'll have to look you up.

You recognized the particular configuration of questions, enh? What are you doing on there? You're practically monogamously married! (giggles...)

I hear you about polyamory. I want to write something more clear. But in truth, I guess I keep hoping that the folks I want to encounter will get what I've written because really, if I have to explain, they may not be what I'm looking for. Y'know?

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

You're not gonna tell me, are you?

2008-07-02T16:23:00.003-04:00

thepoetryman has left a new comment on your post "I've been updating my profile on an internet datin...":

I believe you have covered it all. I cannot think of anything to add, which is rather odd considering I am never short of words...unless I'm speechless, that is.
Oh Poetry Man...
:) Still with "speechless"? HRUMPH! :)

But I agree, you are very rarely short of words. I considered including that I was dedicated to the art of being a "very good woman", not a "really bad man", but then I reconsidered. If I like 'em enough they'll find out the fun way. ;)

The Rude and Saucy Wench also known as Hot Cheeks but mostly known as darkdaughta signing off

:>)
Oh, and thanks again for being so consistent and present. I appreciated your words and the posts the conversation birthed over at the Tree. I've got a few things up my sleeve for Friday.

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

Another one for Second Waver on a Wordless Wednesday...

2008-07-02T15:47:00.005-04:00

secondwaver has left a new comment on your post "I'm cranky and horny and alive and passionate and ...":

darkdaughta, this is fab.

i've started looking forward to your period announcements every month. your art choices are astonishing--well, natch! anyway, thanks for the neat period art.

Here's another one for you, Second Waver...

Kata Kozlovic

From the Series "About Creativity"

Artwork title: "Menstruation Cycle n°361"

23-09-06

Blood on canvas 90 cm x 60 cm

for more wordless wednesday go here...

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

I've been updating my profile on an internet dating site...

2008-07-02T13:55:00.005-04:00

I need some input. Anything you think I should add...I'm not kidding. I'm sure I've left things out that might be useful to someone who is thinking about going out on a date with me.

Here's what I have so far...

My self-summary:
I'm a passionate, insightful, verbal, irreverent, truthful, open, intuitive, willing, sexually deviant, seeker. I am re-learning who I am as a queerly perverse sexual being. I am a writer, poet, visual artist, blogger. I like people who like words and who use them with passion, irreverence, insight and courage. There isn't a particular physical type, race, gender I'm specifically seeking. Attraction for me is more about curiosity, the new, the interesting. I really like people who reflect deeply and ask themselves tough questions. Oh, and I have one primary partner who is heterosexual and male.

What I'm doing with my life:
I walk a lot, blog, guide my children toward maturity while guiding myself towards maturity...I am coming into a better understanding of my childhood, my family, mySELF.,
I do experimental cooking. I garden. I work on business ventures with my primary partner. I go out for coffee. I dance and read and think and feel and think some more. I have intense, generative conversations...sometimes even with other people. :)

I'm really good at:
Writing...erotica...politics...sometimes even separately, truth telling, cussing ;), working to stay grounded, empathizing with others, working at being an ethical human being, telling insanely wicked jokes, hairstyling and hair cutting, sewing, cooking.

The first thing(s) people usually notice about me:
I'm tall, very shapely (I have the body of a fully grown adult woman), my hair is yellow, i have cleavage and my energy can be fairly intense.

My favorite books, movies, music, and food:
Right now Naomi Klein's The Shock Doctrine is fucking up my head. I carry it with me most places. Rozena Maart's Talk About It and her new book The Writing Circle have left their mark on me, too. Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee is a book that is also staying with me right now. So is The Slave Ship. Audre Lorde's Zami. Anything by Patrick Califia-Rice written probably before his change...I haven't bought anything new by him in a while but all his old stuff rocked my world.

I like horror and sci-fi movies...just not zombie movies. I like period movies, biblical epics (no, I'm not christian...it's like watching fantasy movies...with a cast of thousands...) I like documentaries about pretty much anything at all.

As far as music goes...my tastes range far and wide...even traipsing over into the land of country...just near one or two songs by the dixie chicks and shania...ugh, I know...pure cheese. Other than that I like pop music...sort of like white noise that I don't have to think too deeply about while I think deeply about other more important things...I like rock music ranging from cock rock to grunge to pop rock to metal to the old huge bands like led zep, fleetwood mac, the stones, boston, chicago, the eagles, pink flloyd...I like...how would you categorize springsteen and tom petty and stevie nicks?...I like new wave (which i guess is now old wave), duran duran, flock of seagulls, gary numan, old u2, bauhaus, the cure and pretty much any other band that was popular during that musical period...I like r&b and soul and disco...earth wind and fire, chaka khan, diana ross, roberta flack, patti labelle, aretha, tina turner, shannon, jermaine stewart, the sos band...and hip-hop (please circle back up to what I wrote about pop music...it's pretty much the same deal here except the beats are more complexly danceable than with pop...but I really like eighties and early nineties hip-hop and understand it as more intelligent and less commercial...more full of meaning)...I like jazz, but I wouldn't call myself a connoisseur by any means...I like classical...same deal as with jazz...

In terms of food likes...I favour spicy sushi especially anything with salmon, ethiopian, italian, south asian...I'm beginning to appreciate vegan foods, but I'm a carnivore...who prefers well seasoned fish...I like caribbean food...

The six things I could never do without:
thinking, feeling, my lefty politics, the internet, really good rock my world fucking (couldn't DO without it for very long), my morning tea.

I spend a lot of time thinking about:
who I am and who I want to become, blogging, writing, ideas, emotions, power and dominance (the unconsensual kind)...power and dominance...the consensual kind, cruising and flirting with men. :)

On a typical Friday night I am:
Hanging with my daughter and watching a dvd...taking care of my son who is a toddler. But I have room for different kinds of Friday nights. So, this has been shifting towards more adult oriented activities.

The most private thing I'm willing to admit here:
Pretty much whatever thing about me pops into my head that I find useful to share. Oh on second thought...my blog is the center of my universe...my core. If you visit with me t/here and still find me interesting/ hot/ attractive/ fuckable/fun, then definitely contact me.

You should message me if:
You are a sharer, a feeler, a passionate person who is also an ethical person who understands their own feelings and uses this understanding to make decisions that affects their relationships and loverships in positive ways...also, email me if you find me attractive...but don't email if you've only got really crass things to say that make me think you're a stalker or a rapist. That's just plain creepy. Oh, and if you're married, ashamed, radiating guilt and you're seeking someone who is good at skulking, ducking, hiding and lying who can also be *discreet*? I'm not her.

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

Red Flag Woman...

2008-07-02T12:47:00.000-04:00

The Fraternity?...or those who work on behalf of those with power to protect their agendas...

2008-06-30T14:25:00.003-04:00

"Sexy" CIA plainclothes agents...or more like "sexy" Homeland Security operatives...
They work on behalf of "peace"...kill a few...thousand...to safeguard a group of greedy oligarchs. Yeah, I always have to remember that Hollywood is their tool used with great precision and care to maintain control over our minds. Nothing with this much budget is produced, directed, distributed and hyped without all this being done in the service of those who rule.

When they come to recruit the brainless teenage boys...okay...and girls, too right out of highschool, they will know which key words to drop in their ears to get their hearts racing and blood pumping. "Maybe I'll be able to shoot the wings off flies, too and make a bullet curve like a baseball."

Sweet.
They are a fraternity of assassins whose job it is to safeguard "peace".

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

I'm cranky and horny and alive and passionate and bleeding...

2008-06-30T13:37:00.002-04:00

"Altar"1995
Applique and embroidery110 x 156 cm (43.3" x 61.4")

Art copyright 1995
Mayra Alpízar

if what you're reading here grips you, holds you, fascinates you, provokes you, emboldens you, pushes you, galvanizes you, discomfits you, tickles you, enrages you so much that you find yourself returning again and again...then link me.

I like the bass...

2008-06-30T12:56:00.001-04:00