Live After Death

Open doorway with light shining into the darkness of the room for a post about writing

I saw the food for thought prompt “why blogging” and thought well folks what the fuck! Even though I have been silent here I have still been writing. Writing was a part of life long before the blog, before the word blog was invented, trees were sacrificed in great numbers for words no one would or should ever read. Writing continued in an unrelenting cadence even while in self imposed exile in Journals, diaries, divisive political speeches for right wing nut jobs in public office (kidding) and other half baked insane diatribes. The truth is this space keeps calling to me.

If you knew me, really really knew me there is no difference between the pseudonym and the man I am.

The Show (or Sin) Must Go On

Perhaps Maiden said it best with their live album title in the mid 80’s.  It’s been a year and while I have lived a few moments here and there (over tea, on a London Street corner, contemplating the mosh pit at Slayer) until recently not much has changed in terms of having a life. In fact with one exception I have become more isolated both personally and professionally in every sense of the word. For a variety of reasons I have decided to recreate this space as an outlet, as a place to explore thoughts, and to share. 

As for the past, it is what it is. The future though is whatever I make it. Something that I no longer plan to do on anyone else’s terms. Long gone is the man tucked into the corner of posh places with an array of people who are all hanging on and want something. Gone for now and maybe forever the words of the past.  Instead I am here, alive after death both the obvious ones. Friends, lovers, relationships, what have you. Folks it has been a death filled year on many fronts and one of them is the person I was who patiently waited for everyone else. 

What follows will be different from before. More visual in nature. You determine what the story is. Long before disappearing the truth of my world had ceased to be written here. I lost my muse, my voice. and thought that the words were destroying the things and people i cared most about. It changed what I wrote, how it was written.

No longer though will others lenses influence what is said, written, or shown.

Maybe you could say I was “born again”. After all who says the religious types are the only one who can use that term?

Yes through the divine miracle of sex and coffee and a wanton woman. I have seen the error of my ways and been reborn an unrepentant hedonist in his tailored suits, crisp shirts, and lace up shoes.

Sing it with me children AaaaaaHHHHH fucking her in the ass on a Sunday morning men.

So look for me in a hot dark room

See me in your wildest fantasies and worst nightmares

And with that it’s time to live a little

I may not be the devil but have no doubt I am evil, I am wicked and I am as I once was and always will be…I am Malflic.

See you in Hell ( and hugs)

Mal

#F4TFriday

 

Waking Up Dead – The Missing Dinner Guest

I am not a man who tends to be overly sensitive to death. In fact quite the opposite. Death and dead people rarely give me pause. As a child my grandparents would take me to visitations and funerals of deceased great aunts and other distant relatives. We were not mourners in the traditional sense; instead it was a party, a celebration of life and what who they were. Each time I would see my 412th cousins twice removed. We’d talk and visit, go outside and play childhood games in the streets, wonder the city neighborhoods where I looked like all the other Slavic kids unlike the part of town in which I lived. My home city has a host of ethnic neighborhoods and my ethnic background was one where the lines blurred between the Poles and Italians (although my mother is neither).
As a middle schooler I was Death’s apprentice at funeral masses. The pretty boys got to do weddings. Not me I severed as an altar boy at funerals, not a single bad dream or nightmare. Death didn’t bother me. And yes all of these are stories I have recounted here in more detail more than once. Now for the new part…
I arrived in a lovely southern state, checked in to a gorgeous hotel, stared at the spacious suite and thought of throwing a small gathering later in the evening. Eventually changing my suit and heading out for the evening. My industry although large and transient has like all groups circles of friends, associates, and acquaintances. I was heading to a small event for 12 that was a mix of all of those and our local hosts. Greetings and drinks began… I had a wild opening with a Shirley Temple with extra cherries (I rarely drink at these functions) and some playful banter with a southern Belle bartender with a killer sweet little accent and stunning body.
Eventually we were seated in an exquisite private room with ornate wood work and old stone walls that could have held 100 guests and a staff who took very good care of us. A few empty seats were present, not an unusual occurrence. One individual in particular that I was expecting though was missing. So I asked? When does MJ get in?
A friend next to me stopped in his tracks, turned white and uttered something to the effect of “Oh my god no one told you. He didn’t wake up one day last week.” Certainly I’ve heard of people dying in their sleep, not a bad way to go when the time comes but I’m not use to it being a friend who was in his mid 40’s. After a two week multi country trip with his wife and kids the night they got home and the evening before he was to go back to work he literally died in his sleep. By all accounts it was “natural causes”. Normally it would have been shocking but it was the second professional relationship in a week that had died and the 6th this year, 3 in accidents, one was not a shock due to a long term illness, one by his own hand (who I had known for 20 years and considered to be one of the happiest people I’d ever met) and now one in his sleep. The topic changed quickly as we went back to the business at hand. After all we are all replaceable and time marches on.
Later a toast was made in his memory. Hours later a few of us would head to the bar to conclude the negations for the evening and to watch a little hockey. A 3rd Shirley Temple was in order, by the time that ended I was not longer in the mood or willing to host a gathering. The following morning I woke up…which despite hearing that as a reason from folks for years as to why they were having it a good day I considered it in earnest for the first time.
Then I went about my day much as expected, after all what else would one expect unless of course we wake up dead.
Postlude: I don’t mean to be cold or cavalier. In fact quite the opposite MJ’s death and even more so my other associate’s the Friday before made me stop to think. How I should have called an old college friend while there, that I should have let a few sex bloggers who are in the region know about my trip however brief. Two nights later I would pass on an over the top dinner for a ball game with a co-worker, and I stared at my two bedroom suite in the next city with the full kitchen and dinner seating for 8 that I lucked into rather than a normal room and genuinely considered having a party and cooking for a group of friends professional and otherwise who live there. What I didn’t do is look back and wish I had chosen a different path – I do what I was more or less bread and trained to do, I am exceptionally good at it. I just need to enjoy the spoils a little more often even in the heat of the chase.

Landscapes and Other Assorted Perspectives

I wanted to call this post “Molly Made me Do It” & the truth is I did decide to take the landscape photos based on an exchange of notes between us but beyond that it really was a lot of fun for me but more about that a little later.
Las Vegas Strip ant Night from the Top of Mandalay Bay
I haven’t written about it much in recent years but I get to live an amazing life even outside of my kinks.  And yes there is always demands on my time and never enough time for the fun stuff but the picture above is an example of how lucky I really am. I get to see and travel to a lot of major places and occasionally make my way off the beaten path.
 
Cherry Blossom Display in Palazzo Las Vegas
Life is most often filled with Beautiful Places and things.  All dolled up and glamorous, food for the eyes, fuel for creativity, and of course a respect for the artists that can create such displays.  This picture was taken when my fits of insomnia led me to be out and walking between two hotels though the indoor mall right at the break of day.
 
Hard Rock Hotel and Casino Las Vegas
And Increasingly I find that parts of my life have begun to blend together. That serendipity,   good fortune or just plain old dumb luck seem to for the most part be working in my favor.  That random things like passing a hotel that had just earlier in the day been discussed with a friend half a world away would ironically be the way my cabbie took me to the airport.   And those little things make me smile and distract me from all the other demands for a few moments.
 
KansasAs always nothing goes as planned but that isn’t necessarily bad since on the way back after delays as the old saying goes “good things come to those who wait”.  In this case I loved how the angle of the sun made the desolate Oklahoma landscape look like it was filled with deep blue ponds. it seemed to fit perfectly the largely different landscapes of the country.
 
Chicago Lake Shore from the sky
Yet only a few hours later catching Chicago’s shoreline from the air at sunset gave it a deep blue ocean hue rather that the murky brown. the sky and the water meld together as the light of the day escaped. The simplicity of the field had given way to the hurried streets of a major city.
NY NY Hotel and Casino of a Sunny Spring Afternoon
But the one thing that often gets lost whether it’s the real city streets or recreated one like you see here.
 
Parasol down wynn las vegas
The facade and glamor of a high end place or the truly special a lingering dinner lake side with friends and laughter…and yes beautiful women.
 
Las Vegas from the air
Eventually everything will go sideways. it’s unavoidable.  Then again it’s all about perspective.  the first photo in this post was taken from the top of the Strip. This was taken from the plane on my way out of town. I left it sideways on purpose because that is how often things feel in my world.   that they are not aligned, that when you look beyond the pretty shapes, the pretense and the facade it is a few fleeting memories, time with friends, a few words typed or exchanged and what ever stolen moments we can get away from the obvious that matters.  When it comes to stage attire it is mean to be viewed at a distance otherwise you run the risk of seeing through the illusion and fantasy. Life is the opposite you need a little distance to be able to truly see the beauty and what is real, even if that’s not what you expected.
 
Postlude:
The truth is I’m often envious of my fellow bloggers photos.   I tried earlier this year to do a 365 project on another site of mine and it was after a few weeks an utter failure.  Since then I started shooting a pic every now and again and sending it to a friend as a way to stay in touch and also be a bit of a tease…well weather wise anyhow.  This week since i couldn’t send sunshine back to the UK for Molly I added her to my very short list of folks to share pictures with.  In a way it was odd for me.  After all I love her photography and find the images she takes and shares so memorable and well constructed that the concept of sending her my feeble attempts seemed odd but none the less fun. I don’t normally shoot people but rather have an obsession with places and hallways.  Mainly because that is the place when walking thing lengths that I most often get to have my thoughts to myself. And perhaps I’ll add landscapes to the city scapes I’m so often fond of. I’ve not written these words of late but much of the time I do live alone in very public spaces, and that works because it lets me disappear into the night just often enough with friends and loves to make the rest of it all worth while.
On a personal level  life continues to change and evolve if only my relationship status was complicated things would be better however since that’s not the case I’ll just role with it and enjoy the friends i have when I can find the time. I’m working on updating my sexual bucket list and had a noteworthy and often not talked about experience this past week that I’ll share shortly.

Negotiating not a Scene but a Life

Look at almost any major BDSM con schedule and there is somewhere on the agenda a break out based on negotiating a scene in one form or another.   That’s all well and good but I need a bit more help than that.  I need a weekend intensive or perhaps a semester long graduate level course on actually negotiating to have a productive non work life.

My world; both personal and professional is ruled by my calendar.   Like it or not there seems to be no escape.   I put everything in it.  Flying to somewhere?  Flight numbers and times are on there so my world can figure out when and where to find me and approximately what times I’ll be available on in flight WiFi.   Calls, meetings, work related events all are there front and center for anyone to see (not always the details but the open times).   Unlike a lot of people I keep my personal schedule the same way on the same calendar.  Lovingly listing out leg and back day at the gym, my running group meeting place, distance and time, when I’m biking and where and with who, School events, Family parties, etc.

  From there it does get a little James Bondish with codes – A single name or abbreviation (AK & LR, VC, you get the idea), it blocks the time but offers no real details,  I carry those in my head for obvious reasons.  I had an EA it drove nuts not knowing, I could have written not available 8-10 pm Wed “fucking my wife” and that would have been fine but a listing that said Dinner with X or a time blocked with just two initials drove her completely mad.  She felt entitled to know.  Being the prick that I am I started putting in codes for things that didn’t matter just to keep her on her toes and from time to time would make up insane shit just to see if she’s ask about it.  My current keeper cares far less as long as I’m not bothering her.

My personal life is another matter.  The Blonde lives off of her calendar as well. Like so many things in our life together the calendars are not integrated.   She occasionally keeps track of me using a paper calendar showing roughly what cities I’m in over a period of days but other than my departure and return they are all just meaningless details to her.   Her entries look more like pick so and so up at school, meet XYZ for lunch, girls night, this Dr for this kid, that Dr for that kid, etc.  She also functions as the unofficial travel agent for her side of the family.

Here in the problem lies.  I began in the middle of June negotiating with her to come to Eroticon USA with me in Atlanta.   I sold it as a chance for me to go to a con, her to Meet LR & Alice along with a few other folks but not be involved directly in a kink event.   Not being a writer she’d just hang out while I was at whatever and we’d reconnect later making it into time for mostly us with an occasional dose of my friends.   She agreed, I all but fell over but being ever the skeptic didn’t get my hopes up too high.  The plan was she’d arrange for her Mom to spend 4 days with Lil.  I broke the news to our little demon who was not at all happy about the arrangement until she learned it was ok to have a friend or two over the entire time we were gone.  

 The plan was we’d make it our couple’s trip for the fall, our anniversary was just a week or so later.  Never mind we missed taking even one night away of that theme this past winter, spring, or summer for as many reasons as you can possibly imagine (unexpected kids at home, Parents coming to town, No snow, too much snow, the devil ass fucking the pope on PPV, she couldn’t fucking stand me, etc).

Look I get it. We lead separate lives.  It’s ok, it’s just how things are and most of the time it works fine and has for quite a while.  She might contend the point that we have separate lives stating that we share our lives but have very different interests.   That said neither of us are the clingy type and only on occasion is one of us the jealous type (hint usually not me).   I’ve lamented for years wanting to go to more things, and in part to have the Blonde there with me at some of them.   Enter last week a Jury duty notice, not for me but for her.  Even worse it would require her to go away if chosen.  

So let’s review. Years of NO’s, and “You go without me, take who ever I don’t care”, followed by one minor and disappointing outing this past year because it was “too tame” & “not what she expected”.  Followed by the fucking state now potentially screwing up the first “yes”  I’ve ever gotten to attending something that didn’t involve a beach.  The blonde would go to “Leather Week in the 7th Circle of Hell” if it was at a good beach, with an open bar, and she could work on her tan as she laid by the water.  I can hear her now “You have fun with the devils and demons and don’t be to mean when torturing the newly damned souls.   I’ll meet you by the pool when you’re done and have taken off that ridiculous get up” however I digress.

So now it’s all up in the air.   We’ll decided on buying a cancelable ticket for her in the next week or so but won’t know if she can go with me until 2 days before we’d leave.  Makes planning hard.  After the events will I be slipping away for some much needed time with her or will I be looking to be the life or host of an after party for old and new friends.  Sure I’m adaptable, it’s the very nature of my existence but in this one case it’s frustrating. 

So forget figuring out a scene I need to figure out how to manage what I’d like on a much grander scale.