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JohnBlack13

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Friends:
munedaysimidiancountess

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You know, no matter how many times I fill out an on-line profile I still have NO IDEA what in the hell to say. So, true to form, I'm going to do what ever I feel like. In this case that means performing the keyboard version of automatic writing.... Slip the mind into neutral and see what happens. I've lived a lot in my life... done a lot of different jobs and met loads of diverse people. I'm a big fan of doing as many new things as possible in life... having a great variety of experiences to draw on in life helps me to a more colorful character. I personally identify as both a Top and a Dom. No, I don't switch or bottom. :) I'm also Bi-sexual, Kinky and Pagan. so, are we clear on the whole orientation thing? I got started in Kink around the tail end of 1997, and have made it a fairly consistent part of my life ever since. . In addition to everything else I'm also a Juggalo and an intelligent open minded person. I'd like to meet someone with a similar mentality. My primary former partner called it "compatible crazy". I'm currently looking to meet subs and bottoms to play with. I'm not actively looking for a slave at the moment, but if something works out I'm not adverse to the idea. Sometimes life throws you what you need, not what you are looking for.

I'm sometimes at the Wetspot on Tuesdays, Thursdays or Saturdays and can be found on occasion at various events. I wont be attending Paradise this year, but that may change next year. As you may have noticed, I haven't put much personal information on here (likes, dislikes, ect.)... I'm more interested in meeting people face to face and learning about each other that way, rather than attempting to cram all of me into a few paragraphs. So if you are interested in meeting and talking then drop me letter on this site. We can work out our comfort levels after that. Either way I hope you find what you are looking for. And now, because I feel like it... some randomness..... I love the rain... cold wind on my face as the water sprinkles down on me. Just going out for a walk on a cold stormy day (or especially night) makes my blood sing. Some of my favorite moments in life (or most memorable) have been in the heart of a storm. I love good boots. More to the point, I love wearing good boots. Thick soled with steel toes and heavy leather, all in black of course. When I wear them it feels more like they become a part of me, an extension of my skin. My walk changes, I carry myself with more confidence. When I'm wearing good boots I feel strong, powerful, in control... even a little invincible. I love my niece. I look at her and see innocence un-corrupted, youth un-tarnished. I look at her and see hope, joy and acceptance. Hearing her say "I love you Unca John" pulls at my heart, makes me feel fiercely protective. Anyone who ever dares to hurt my niece should hide deep and far afterward, or I'll hurt them back 100 fold. I love having my privacy. Sitting alone in my own place, thinking or just remembering things I've done in life... reflecting on the past or planning for my future. As much as I love the company of friends and loved ones, I love my time alone. I love meat. The taste and texture of lightly seared dead animal is wonderful to me. A Vegan once asked me what it was I liked about meat so much that I couldn't get from soy-based protein substitutes. I said something to the affect of "I like the feel of the muscle striations snapping under my teeth, I like the warm salty taste of the blood as I chew it, and the satisfying lump it makes in my stomach after I swallowed it. I like the fact that I'm eating something that used to be alive and move. I'm just a carnivore at heart I guess." Needless to say the Vegan did not appreciate my answer... :) I love moans. It doesn't matter where they come from, the sound of a person moaning always does things to me. I take it back, it does matter where the moans come from. Moans that I helped coax out of someone’s throat are my favorite. Whether I'm giving them a massage, a gentler caress or a deep hard fucking, moans are something I treasure. I love chocolate. Sometimes dark chocolate, but more often nice rich milk chocolate. The flavor is wonderful, the scent is intoxicating. If I had to describe my eating habits I'd say I'm a carnivore with chocoholic tendencies. There was a movie I saw where Prime rib was served at an outdoor party with a bitter chocolate sauce on top. That sums up my tastes perfectly. I love the words "Yes Daddy" being whispered in my ear. If it's moaned in my ear, :) I just go pleasantly insane. I love the trust implied, the level of commitment, and the slight dirty thrill of illicit naughtiness that all gets tangled up in those two words. I love my Ferrets. Even though they are gone, I still love them. The feel of them when they moved, the look on their faces when they licked Ferritone off my hand. The musky smell of their fur. I loved to watch them do the "Weasel War-Dance" when they got excited. I love the way the would snuggle on my chest and sleep on the rare moments when they got tired. I miss them... :( I love caffeine. I hate it too, but I love it more. I love the energy it gives me, the feel of it hitting my bloodstream, the change in my senses at it takes effect. If it wasn't so fucking addictive, if my body didn't start to depend on it.. then I might not use caffeine. I don't like needing anything, but I can’t give caffeine up. I feel much better for it, but I still love/hate it. That’s addiction for ya. I like to hurt people. For me hurting people falls into two categories. Hurting good people and hurting bad people. When I'm hurting good people it's been discussed and agreed that whey will be hurt, how much they will be hurt and what (if any) marks can be left. Risk Aware Consensual Kink, or R.A.C.K., is a very important thing for that kind of hurting. When I hurt someone that way I like to make then enjoy the pain, welcome it... ask for the pain and maybe even beg for it. The other kind of hurt I like, the hurting of bad people.. that’s MUCH different. I don't want them to like it, and when I make them scream I want agony to be in their voice, not ecstasy. An a example of a bad person I'd hurt is someone who hurts me, my family, my friends or other loved ones in a bad way. Rapists, murderers. They deserve the marks I set into their flesh. Hurting them is to punish, to settle the score. But personally, between hurting good people in a good way and harming bad people in a bad way, I vastly prefer to hurt good people. I love the club I go to. It makes me feel safe, welcome, comfortable. It's my second home, my playground, my haunt. It's where I hunt for fun, it's my "Cheers". It's where people know me for who I want them to know. It's where I feel myself to be among peers, equals. It's where I feel accepted. Frustration is an interesting thing. Half the time when I'm frustrated the people around me think I'm pissed off, specifically that I'm pissed off at them. Actually, the truth is that when I'm frustrated I'm getting pissed off at myself. Surprised? You shouldn't be. I've always been kind of hard on myself, and getting frustrated is just a part of that. So why does it happen so much you might wonder? Because I'm not perfect. Some weird complex in my brain makes me feel like I have to be perfect, know everything, be the best at whatever I'm doing the very first time I do it. Is it because I'm a Virgo? Because of some un-diagnosed O.C.D.? Hell's if I know. I just want to do it right the first time, or retry it until I get it right. So when I'm getting frustrated and slightly aggravated it's more than likely because I'm upset that I don't know enough or have enough skill in what ever I'm doing at the moment. I joked with a friend of mine that my biggest personality flaw (in my eyes) is that I'm supposed to be omnipotent... and I'm not.
Maybe I'm expecting too much from myself.....?
Subtlety is a double edged sword for me. On the one hand I can't comprehend it when it's used on me..... I always tell my friends that if they want to be subtle with me to smack me in the head with a baseball bat. That is the level of subtlety it takes to get through to my brain. On the other hand though, I can wield subtlety with great skill if and when I choose, worming my thoughts into peoples brains until they do what I want or act how I want, all the while believing that it was their idea all along. Personally, I hate being subtle... it tends to leave a foul greasy taste in my mouth. As a tool for getting things that I want however.. it comes in quite useful. Trust is and always has been a big thing for me.... I seek it from others and I'm usually very careful who I trust in return. Trust can take many forms and have many definitions. Here is a good example.
"I'd let you do (XYZ) to me. It would be scary, and I don't know what might happen, but I'd trust you to do it and keep me safe." Over the years I've been in a lot of different relationships with loads of different types of people, but there have almost always been two constants. The high degree of trust that is given to me is one, and the other is how comfortable I can become in placing my trust in return. I've not always been able to live up to the trust placed in me, but I always try to do what I think is best. I suppose that is part of what I like about being trusted….. you have to strive to be a better person in order to show yourself worthy. Heh, maybe that's one of the big reasons I like BDSM... the trust needed is huge, and makes it necessary for me to actively choose to trust another person. Funny how things like that work, eh? Friday I and another un-named person were walking around town, coming back from a movie. As we were beginning to cross at the cross-walk (we had the light) a small silver truck pulled into the cross-walk, blocking damn near the entire thing. Now, they had a few seconds to back up, get out of the way... there was nobody behind them blocking them, but they stayed put. The person I was walking with opted to walk in front of the truck, as there was almost enough room for them to squeeze by without stepping into traffic. I went for the more direct route, and went over the hood of the truck. Let's just say I left quite an impression on the driver, and on his hood as well. Yeah, I could of walked around. Yeah, he could have had a gun and shot me dead. I honestly didn't care. My main thought was "You are in my way!!!". On most weekends a partner and I used to walk up and down the Ave, seeing the sights and listening to street performers and stuff, or going to and from a diner or a theater. I'm usually wearing one of my Psychopathic shirt, or a jersey or something, and every time I get other Juggalos shouting "Whoop, whoop!!" or just calling out "What up, ninja?" or even just a simple "Awesome shirt man.". Just recently a guy was riding past on his bicycle, and when he noticed my jersey I was wearing (the hockey one with the lightning bolts)he turned his head so fast he damn near got whip lash and YELLED out a "WHOOP, WHOOP!!!!".
My point is, every time something like this happens I just get what can only be described as a big warm fuzzy in my guts. (Mmmmm, guts...) Each time it happens I just want to sit and chat with the person for a couple hours, just shoot the shit and see what's going on in their lives. Maybe even give Joe and Joey a big THANK YOU for creating this huge family that I get to be a part of. It really is an amazing thing.... it leaves me feeling blessed. Kind of like when I listen to "Homies"... I can just feel the love, like I know that there are Juggalos right behind me that got my back, even if I can't see them. Fuck man, I love that song. (All four versions)
Does anyone else have shit like this in their lives? Do you feel that magic too?
You know you are a carnivore when.....
1). you are so stuffed up in the sinuses that you can't taste the meat, but you are heartily enjoying the texture of the muscle tissue you are chewing.
2). a nice 16oz piece of hand rubbed and aged prime rib that has been slow cooked to a wonderful medium-rare is your idea of the perfect dessert.
3). your vegetables need to be flavored with meat juices before you can manage to choke them down.
4). the idea of putting blood and that nice dipping sauce, au jus...? (made with blood and dripping) into your red wine is hugely appealing and something you recommend to friends.
5). the very concepts of such things as "vegetarian", "tofu" and "soy-protein substitute" are complete heresy.
6). you eat a whole rotisserie chicken without using a knife, fork or napkin.... just your own two hands ripping the meat off the bone and tearing the limbs off and your teeth cracking the bones open to get to the marrow.
7). No recipe is complete without bacon.
I had a curious dream the other night... in the dream I saw a man fall into a cave, so I went in after the man to save him. When I got into the bottom of the cave it seemed that it had been made by a river hollowing it out underground. The man was gone, but the cave was not empty... the floor of the cave was lined in black plastic tarp, and the whole cave was filled with shelves that all held things from the 80s. Candy, toys, clothes, it was all there. I quickly forgot about the man and began looking for a particular toy I used to have when I was young... a "Jetfire" from the Transformers. I looked all over the cave but couldn't find it. Then the Alarm clock woke me up. :)
So, analysis? The man is me getting lost in the past, and me trying to find the toy is me trying to reclaim my youth. The fact that I didn't find it? That just illustrates the fact that youth can't be reclaimed. Any other couch Freud's out there have an interpretation? Oh a different note... I've often wondered what part of me makes it so difficult to forgive myself for mistakes. More than anyone else that I know I tend to beat myself to a pulp over things, and not let go of them. A part of me thinks that it's a good thing, because if I didn't worry about my past mistakes so much I’d be more likely to repeat them over and over and over... You get the idea. I know it's possible to forgive but not forget.... but for some reason I can't forgive myself. I can forgive others at the drop of a hat for just about anything, but even the smallest thing I do wrong gets worried over and gnawed on like an old bone. I understand the process intellectually, but the actual act eludes me. Will I carry around every mistake for the rest of my life?

How can I learn to forgive myself? Do I really want to? And can I learn to quit asking silly questions like this while I'm at it?

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7/25/2008 11:04:17 AM
i should let you know, I'm not interested in helping anyone cheat on their partner. If you are in a relationship and your partner does not know you are playing around and fucking other people WE WILL NOT be having sex.... PERIOD.

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cynful1125
 
 Age: 36
 Germany