Back To Our Regularly Scheduled Program

Photo by Magali Moscardo

Photo by Magali Moscardo

When my Top Categories become as depressing as a long December night, I think to myself, “Dawn, your blog is really not as steamy as you had intended it to be.” I guess that when I have choice subject-matter to write about, I am far too euphoric to calm my body down and listen to my thoughts. Sexuality leads my body and sorrow seems to have direct access into my pulsating heart. Wine dulls my mind a lot of the time although occasionally I have eruptions of words that seem to swarm out of me in chaotic fashion, like bees in a rose garden. Not entirely without order, but almost.

The Solstice is behind us, the days imperceptibly longer… I feel like getting back to writing about sexuality, because in my humble opinion, there is nothing more relevant to every human being, because at the end of the day, what is more important? Nothing else makes me feel more vibrant, nothing else on earth reminds me more that I exist. Fucking/love-making whatever is certainly where our lives all began, our connection to the chain of life. When I started writing here, I shyly hedged around my chosen topic and really, in my adult life I guess that I have tried to put a large pillow on the face of this floundering aspect of myself. As if suffocation would be an effective method, like cutting off your own legs in order to keep on walking. I’ve been running quite a bit lately, galloping, and I am inflated with oxygen. Pumped up. Bubbles, invisible to the naked-eye yet somehow perceptible to others, slip out of me…multi-colored reminders of recent rendezvous. Reminders of letting myself go, like soaking in a warm bath, relieving tensions and filling me with hope.

The body cannot be the victim of the mind nor the heart. They are one. Heal your body, anoint what ails you and your heart and mind will follow. Or at least that is what I’m hoping.

20 comments

  1. Neal A. Gray

    For many years, I thought the voices I heard were demonic. I even thought Satan himself was talking to me. I’m still not entirely convinced that they were not what I thought they were, but even if they were, my medications have sent them all packing.

    I thought the devil had created an entryway for my demons into my mind. I couldn’t keep them out. And then he started letting everyone in. I lost track of who I was and thought that I become everyone that I heard speeking. It wasn’t multi-tasking, but it sure was multi-thinking. Crowds scared me to death.
    Since they’re now gone (thanks to getting sober), it really doesn’t make much difference what they were or were not.

    I move on with my life very much as I always have, but now I can find peace when I need it and friends like you to talk to.

    Keep writing. It helps a lot to talk about it with others that have been there.

    • pivoine68

      I am glad that you can find peace in my struggles…I don’t know if my story is very peaceful really but I am searching for serenity. Maybe that is our link! I just don’t feel much like quitting drinking. Up to now, doing so has done no good. I can never quite decide if the problem is me or the universe.
      …yeah, I know! :)

      I wish you a very Merry Christmas/New years/etc. etc. and I thank you for your friendship.You are a shiny place in the darkness.

      Je t’embrasse,
      Dawn

  2. Dawn D

    I think the peace is not found in your struggles or your story per se, but rather in the knowledge that our own struggles are not lonely, that we’re not the only ones facing those struggles, but other people are facing similar things too. That’s what I take comfort in. That’s what brings peace to my mind.
    I’m sure you’re aware by now, and don’t want to feel like I’m judgmental (I’ve given up on being that a long time ago!), but alcohol is a strong depressant. I only know because I heard it during my stay in a mental hospital… which I still have to write about some time soon ;-)
    I wish you a very Merry Christmas, and a new year filled with plenty of sex. It’s only very self centered of course, I want to read the beautiful poetry you write after such a joyous encounter ;-)
    Joyeux Noël, et bonne année 2014
    Bisous
    Dawn

    • pivoine68

      That is really the magical thing about blogging…so many of us thinking our problems are so enormous and then, by some bizarre blog-force, we find ourselves in the virtual arms of new friends who share our load, who carry their own crosses as well. Then again, stats are better when I write about fucking. LOL!

      You are right about alcohol…I’ve been in the mental hospital too! Twice! :)

      As for sex, things are looking up. Although I don’t know if this kind of sex will inspire me to write poems. It’s more like working out at the gym. You feel great afterward but not really filled with words and colors. Satiated. I feel like burping really. Just kidding.

      Happy New Year to you too D!

      Bises,
      Dawn

    • pivoine68

      Hello Jayne,
      We have both survived another Christmas. Maybe you love the holidays, or not. I feel like doing a blog roll-call to make sure everyone has made it through the festivities. 2014 is our year!

      Bisous,
      Dawn

      • jayne

        Doing a Blog Roll Call – funny idea. I do miss the bloggers we used to have around… I like the holiday to a certain degree. It brings out the best in people sometimes. Mine turned out really nice with my immediate family only. I didn’t make the trip to see the WHOLE family this year – I just couldn’t do the whole Holiday Iditarod this year : )

      • jayne

        I have never really liked New Year’s Eve…I think because as a kid, my mother didn’t. I did have a New Year’s Eve in Paris once. That was fun walking across one of those bridges crossing the Seine as I kept yelling out some very slutty obscenity in French that my lovely husband told me was something else. I didn’t care – I kept doing it then because he was getting embarrassed when I got too loud. Yeah – I’m classy!

      • pivoine68

        We are loud and classy Jayne. I always embarrass my husband too. :) It takes a special kind of man to appreciate our passion. (where is he??? FUCK!)

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