. . : Dopamine Junkie 6.0: Ripe with Text : . . |
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The power of words
is all I have.
This is your chance to escape Before you fall down my rabbit hole. ..::ACHTUNG::.. The Dopamine Junkie Chronicles depict sexy text imagery. ..:Dope J's Wishlist About Dopamine Junkie
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Thursday, February 24, 2005
Who/What I'm Meant For An excerpt Aprendiz de todo, maestro de nada Been drifting through this life fulfilling functions Nothing quite intentional Always just been pretty good at picking things up The question posed to me: "Is there anything more important in your life than the quest for love?" I can honestly say, although I've been cynical and jaded and bitter Cloaked in myths and rituals There is nothing, not even anything for myself and my own success, more important to me than taking all that I am, my heart, soul, body, mind, consciousness, skill, talent, will -- and offering this to the One I'm Meant For with complete and total selfless surrender. I have tried with little success to subvert my energies from this quest To channel them with Animus to some sense of masculine achievement I can't fight it anymore. I'm soft, I'm a girl, I want to be adored and tender and just be a Jungian Woman/Anima-trix/Initiatrix - to embody the femme goddess archetype in the purest sense. I surrendered the Domme. I surrendered the Lonely Myth. Now I surrender "Ma-chismo" and all the butch toughness that goes with it. My uncles called me my father's oldest son - which I internalized as a great compliment. It once made me feel strong to deny my femininity, or at least to twist it up in the guise of domme to feel invulnerable, unbreakable, "impregnable." * * * * * Since the turn of the year I have been very still Myth-breaking, truth-taking analyzing, kundalini-rising I've been in and out of the box with Schrodinger's Kitty Dissolving myself into the Multi-Meta-Verse Until the Quantum Breakdown broke me down And I didn't know who/what/where I was - just everything, everywhere and nothing too Some days full of ambition Some days out of the game altogether I tell you, bring on the Snow Crash muthafucka Put my shell in storage and let me hover in the ethers Except for the waste and wither of this blessed shell All the snazzy functionality of my hard and soft wares I do not chase property, success or goods I am my own external token of self However I dress up or down I am having difficulty embracing the earth plane But must learn to ground myself to sustain.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Supple
Friday, February 18, 2005
Contemplating eternity - Jorge Luis Borges
Thursday, February 10, 2005
Self Immolation to Force the Phoenix 41 days into 2005. BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR.
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