autumn twilight

I’m incredibly horny right now. I’ve been feeling sexual all week, and after tonight I don’t know how I’ve survived. I’ve had two mind-blowing ejaculations in less than 24 hours. They haven’t sated me, only made me more needy. FireDance tonight, which means sex to the Brotherhood. It means love and the sharing of that love. I’ve been sensually/erotically charged since Bealtaine a couple weeks ago. Tonight just seems to be the capstone of it. More than 30 gay pagans, many of whom are just incredibly scrumptious, dancing and singing, and spinning around the maypole. How could I not be horny?

Frank and John are probably still being frisky, I can’t imagine that they’d be done so soon. Me jealous? Don’t be silly. I’m happy for people who are sharing their beds tonight. It’s the season to do so. I’m happy for the men in the world who will wake up tomorrow with an ache in their body that they know is from sex, or with bite marks and bruises, or scratch marks, or spots where the rope rubbed too much. Mmmm rope. I am happy for them, but I can’t help being lonely for me. Sex is nice, but I don’t even care so much about what most americans call sex (i.e. intercourse of some variety). I just want someone to touch. Someone to touch me. There is a beautiful power in the magic of sensuality. In closeness and fondness and appreciation.

Love, at it’s most base, is the most simple thing there is. It is a connection between two things. Not in the way of things touching, or being bound, but a genuine connection. And it can be found in many ways and places. True love, is nothing more than a sincere and profound sense of connection. Love does not demand anything of the person being loved. It is simple. We mix it with other things. With lust and passion and sex and fire and desire and hate and needs and illusions. But the love itself is simple. Sex is the physical representation of that love, and at it’s most base is a violent act. Sex is the attempt to actualize the connection of love. To violate, intrude, or penetrate the exterior of a person and join with them. Though we may cover it in gentle things, sex is fundamentally violent.

I’m beginning to ramble. Time for bed.