Month: July 2005

Different than i expected…
talking about my meeting with sheridan

Simple:
i’ve arrived in portland.
here are a few notes from the last week:
Continue reading “how i got to portland”

Sheridan has repeatedly mentioned this, so i thought i would back-date this
… to be fair. (posted July 3rd, 2007)
”
your account of the last time we saw each other broke my heart a little and made
me really question your clarity and honesty. on your blog, i consider
your omissions of details occurring at that time to be a Lie at
worst, a Manipulation at best. you knew we weren’t into meth or any
drugs other than just being big time stoners. you also knew that joel
had just lost his job, we suddenly were putting our house on the real
estate market and joel’s best friend had been arrested for “abusing”
his wife, a mentally disturbed woman in late stages of MS. those
three events occurred two days before your arrival, and because of
all that, i told you we couldn’t host you.
somehow, you decided to disregard all of that information when you
explained your version of what went on.
”
— my reasoning for throwing this information out the window, as i told her, was because nothing that was going on would justify how they treated me. Nothing.
even she forgot the detail here: she didn’t tell me they couldn’t host me
Joel called me and i never heard another word from her until i got there.

i arrived home last night
city.city.city.city.
it’s been a nice little adventure.
i’ll talk about it more…
tonight maybe?
i didn’t use my time last night wisely
and never got around to writing.
but i’ll tell the tale sometime soon.
just a bit of schedule:
i’m back in NYC now.
have a desire to go up to MA again…
BUT
just bought a plane ticket for Portland Oregon:
i’ve gotta get “my stuff” from an old friend’s house
she’s selling it and doesn’t want to move it…
so changed my plans
flying to portland instead of SF
then driving/riding down to the hermitage
meet up with Leo and N there
to spend a week on the mountain…
then over to the midwest for the rest of the month!
i won’t even be back here until the end of August…

i just posted two entries
click my “recent” to see them
one was a commision about Hair… a very long piece
the other was some sexual advice i posted on craigslist
i’m gonna jump in the shower
rinse
then head up town
i’m heading to Ithaca to meet
shamantraveler

dennisatl wrote this to me:
I was thinking “write about hair”, since you’ve got some of it/lots of it that makes your life interesting.  Pete/clarkelane has written some about his hair and beard, tho he’s much more changing his all the time. And you just posted the funny while-back icons of you sans beard.   
Then since your
(fuck!
 when-was-it?
  umm other day)
 recent post in the bathtub
(remember it. 
   can’t find it
        damn it)
and I remembered
and looked up
the one of you in the shower in Billings….
About Hair?
Good idea
i will have a section in my web page just like this
just… “about” things.
Hair?
one of the comments that’s always stuck with me i heard from a Rasta..
he said that they don’t cut their their hair
because God pulls you up to heaven by your locks…
in Hessidum and Amish cultures
the married woman must cover her hair (islam as well?)
because it is the most beautiful part of her
and it makes men desire her…
that should be kept for her husband…
no… what did that amish guy say?
“a woman’s hair is her Glory… and that is only for her Husband to see”
as “private” as breasts or vagina.. or cock!
but Hair?
My father is very hairy…
so is my brother.
my uncles… even on my mother’s side…
i’ve always loved hair.
my mother’s mother had grey curls
my mother had long hair when i was young..
my father had a beard
— i was forever angry at him after he cut it… (age 5?)
now that we’re not enemies anymore
he has a beard again!
but body hair?
my father and brother are fat!
they’re fat and furry!
my teacher
who i seduced when i was 14
he was really fucking furry
the other kids in class would make fun of him
when he would say “Oh, it’s so hot in here!”
they would shout
“well, you’re wearing two sweaters! take one of them off!”
shaving? or did they all want to see his furry chest a well?
and when i was fourteen
on those wrestling mats
his chest hair would be slick with sweat
from lifting weights
from straining to keep me down
i would nuzzle my face into the thick fur
inhaling the “old spice” and his own musk
my tongue would plow through those furrows
— i wrote about it in my first-ever-journal!
i was obsessed with the furr…
i was hairless
i was envious of my brother
a year older
and a fat boy…
why are fat boys furrier?
more testosterone from carrying around that weight all the time?
the Bull?
i started shaving around 13 or so
and i remember at 18 i would shave the little patch of hair in the centre of my chest
coz i hated that when i saw it on older men
— i wanted a rug
the measly splotch was an exacerbating insult!
the older men i would have sex with told me how i could get more, though
“when you’re jacking off
rub the cum into your belly and chest and it will make more hair grow”
i had heard it called “seed” before…
really?
i would usually just cum into the toilet..
or a tissue…
what a mess
what is that stuff?
ugh…
so i started trying it
and not too far afterwards i got a little treasure trail on my belly…
so i started rubbing it on my chest, my face even!
and in my hair…
i first grew my hair out long when was 14
my father told me i looked like a fucking girl
but he always said stuff like that
and i was happy to piss him off
— set myself apart…
set myself apart from everyone
my glasses (“john lennon!”, people would say)
corduroy blue shirt ( i got from my dad… and another from a thrift store )
why?
maybe because of the french noblemen who lost their heads in the revolution…
maybe the polish heros on horses
certainly the shagginess of the greek gods was more admirable than these meat-heads …
yeah, i used to have flat tops
i always imagined bleaching my hair and giving it a really sharp flat top
wear a big leather jacket
and kick all the asses of those boys who hurt me…
but no
i grew it out
after i studied tae kwon do
and realized i could kill anyone with my bare hands
i wasn’t afraid
when i realized was Gay
like Ginsburg and Wilde and Whitman and Morrissey
i knew i WAS one of the ancient Aristocracy
and i grew my hair out
like a beautiful woman
like a nobleman…
from another time.
When i was in europe, years later
an AnandaMargi Monk looked at me
with deep-gazing crossed eyes
silence
he said
“in you i see a very old, wise man.. a young, tender boy… and a Strong Woman”
i was proud.
i cut off my first long hair at the age of 17
into a pompadour for going to England
died it Cherry red
though i had certainly capitalized on that first long hair as a goth kid
as an androgyne
with eye-liner and lipstick
even at the prom!
i didn’t have a beard back then
beards were for hicks, of course
nothing made sense in those days…
my year in england was all about cutting my hair
with scissors
in my bedroom
all jagged..
when i started to let it grow
i had to go back to america
and buzzed all my hair off within a few weeks of being home
cutting my hair was a way of punishing myself
i remember it growing long that summer in NYC
it got so fucking hot
i let the faggots cut it
so i’d be pretty
short
stupid
i took my own blades to it and hacked it up…
it was messy
kept it shaved for a while in that year
meanwhile
i discovered bears
i had been talking with someone on IRC
and he sent me a picture
i said
“i’m not really into your look… i like big hairy guys”
“oh,” he said, ” you mean like Bears?”
i said…
“well, i’d have sex with a bear, yeah… but it’d probably fucking kill me”
“No!” he explained, “Big fat hairy guys call themselves Bears…”
OH.
“i’m not into fat”
it was later
it was later, i remember
when i was living in the desert with my hair short
do i still have pictures from those days?
my child hood friends said
“dominic: you need to grow your hair again”
i had a Samson complex
and not being able to grow my long hair was a failure
— my strength (perhaps God reaching down into my life?) was in my long hair
i let my beard grow
my hair grow
i got shaggy all over
and with that
stopped shaving that patch on my chest…
which now had accompanying nipple-fur
and a big belly grove…
the cum was working…
and my roommate/friend/lover Trevis
would always put his masturbated cum into his hair
so i started doing the same thing..
the low humidity in the desert kept the smell from spreading far…
and i got into bears!
big fat sexy furry men!
the pen-ultimate was my lover Robert
who i went to live with in Arkansas
before that
i always said i was attracted to “ugly” men
i would put quotes around it
coz i obviously found them really hot
but all the gay kids… and even the straight ones i knew
thought they were ugly..
older and fat and furry
eeewww, back hair!
LUSH!
Robert hair two inch hair all over him
big fucking thick furry dark hair
not much of a beard
but big fat thighs
and a hanging-over belly
big mountainous ass and thighs
he always talked about how ugly he was
yeah
he was an ugly guy..
he was so fucking hot!
i would worship his fat
his ingrown hairs on his thighs
his long fur
ohmygod
his back was amazing
he expanded my world
and was the first lover i let be my father/daddy in a loving way
but we also fought a lot because of it
… and he was also my mother..
my middle-man, i guess
sometimes
at bear-functions
guys would ask me
“why would a handsome guy like you be attracted to big fat hairy guys?”
i would explain
the ancient male archetype is thin and angular. hard. sharp.
the ancient female is big and soft and round
modern man is butch by his beard and body hair.. i guess
so i see bears as a combination of masculinity and feminitity
it’s mom and pop in one body
i can get harsh heavy fucking
and soft cuddling
agression and intellectuality
as well as emotionaly and caring…
cook for me, tuck me in, bathe me
hike up the mountain with me!
something like that
Also
i loved bears because of their big bellies, big bodies
thinking: well
if i want to be in my body with someone else (sex/sensuality)
do i want to be with someone who is a body fascist who wants to look like a Ken Doll?
or do i want to be with someone who finds pleasure through their body already?
their big bellies!
A Testament to their sensuality
eating to feel good
rubbing their bellies
those beards and all those body hairs..
antennae to feel even more
each one rubbing around and caressing and nuzzling and feeling…
— they liked that answer.
i cut off all my hair when i was 23
on that birthday
i did it as a ritual like i heard about in africa somewhere…
when boys turn 8 ( i think ) they shave EVERYTHING off their body
and from then on
they are a man
(everything that belongs to them is mature now… no childishness left…)
early in my traveling
i had to give away everything
it was too heavy to cary..
i thought of my hair as my own possession
my body, yes
but my hair was mine
i owned it
and more so
it was my history
it was what showed me that time really passed in my life
it was my history
all the dirt and sweat caught in their..
i heard they could tell if you did LSD from testing a strand of your hair…
i knew every cell that was created in that long chain of hair had my DNA in it
— it was a way of telling my story.
but i also knew that some of my story was bullshit.
so the reason i cut it off was to step into being my true self
(on the day my sun progressed into Cancer, and a new Horse cycle and the end of my numerological 9 cycle)
charms
my hair is a charm too
something i use to lure and seduce
and i just wanted to be honest:
i needed to really deal with shit
get into my emotions
and i knew that some of the tricks i’d played were locked in my magical hair
it was a sacrifice of self for self.
a more honest self.
however
after i cut it off
i also realized that i was an organ
a tool
i used it as antennae
to suck in all the magick, life
feel things out
hear thoughts, feelings..
i was left naked and dumb for a while
all the stuff i had
as a child
hidden in my hair so i could just get on and deal
( easy answers…)
came back with a vengeance…
i was very insecure and scared
judgemental
suicidal even!
it was terrible
i kept everything on my body shaved for 23 days
some of my bear friends were severely offended
the hair is a symbol of sensuality
and these embassadors of the sensual realm
thought i had rejected them
some were angry
one yelled “it’s a hate crime!”
“What?! do you think this makes you look better!”
their own insecurities
but i’d even shaved off my eyebrows
i certainly did not think it made me look better
but it was an amazing experience to feel naked like that for 23 days..
then i stopped shaving and cutting
trimmed on my birthday the next year, 2002
coz of all the terrorist stuff
people were afraid when they looked at me
so i trimmed my beard short back near my face
and grabbed my hair in my hands and cut the excess
(it was hot in germany at the time..)
then it just grew.
it’s been growing now since then
i had the dead ends trimmed off by a friend at a faery gathering in 2004
nothing really since then.
Hair is our history
it’s the weight of our life
and i feel that’s the reason that most people are always cutting it off:
it’s too much to bear.
like most of life.
it feels good to cut my hair
when i did that in Germany
that was part of the reason
to feel a bit of relief.
i sighed.
now i’m content knowing my hair is constantly falling out
as everyone’s does
but that’s why i don’t have dreads (well, a small reason)
i need to keep my hair flowing so things can fall off as they need to
the natural shedding of life
to keep things moving
so they don’t get too heavy…
have i said enough?
any questions?

i was cruising through craigslist yesterday
and found some guy asking sexual advice
he seemed to be straight
but asking the queer men what to do about premature ejaculation
i wrote this to him
then thought it would be good to post in the main page for people to read
then thought it might be good to post here…
Re: Seeking Sexual Advice (how to stay hard longer…)
Reply to: anon-85230755@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-07-18, 1:00PM EDT
i just wrote this to that guy
and thought it’d be helpful to post it to the community
(wink)
— when i was 12
the first kid i played with had a bigger dick and took a lot longer to cum than i did
it pissed me off
so i set about learning to change it…
found something in a book that’s really helped:
do you know the perineum muscle?
it’s the muscle at the base of your pelvis
between your asshole and your cock
when you’re pissing
you can feel it:
contract it to stop the flow
or squeeze out that last drop.
that muscle is the muscle that gets your dick hard as well
and if you learn to control it and strengthen it
you can use it to keep from cumming..
simply
contract it and hold it for about 3 seconds
then let it go.
do this all day.
driving
on the train
at the desk
anytime you’re sitting and have some time to do it
focused or not:
that will build up the strength of the muscle
and after you’ve gotten good at that
practice holding it as long as you can… so you can see the actual increase of your strength
but to really benifit
you should go study Kundali Yoga for a while
in yoga
that muscle is called the MulaBhanda
it’s the base of your vital (and sexual) energy
when you have a good relationship with that muscle through the contractions
you can start working breath into it :
inhale –= hold, release the breath..
or, hold, inhale… then release and exhale..
both do different things: feel it out…
either way, it’s good to learn and feel it out
it’s very important to breathe very deeply when you’re having sex… a lot of guys pant…
when you breathe into the orgasm
it lasts longer and is much more fulfilling
and if you are in good control of your mulabhanda
you can keep fucking After you cum
coz your dick will stay hard
and it’s so much fun to fuck a hole filled with your juice!
hope that helps…
if you have any questions
feel free to ask

Today
Saturn
Moves into
Leo!
this
i would say
is
the begining
of my Satyrn Return.
(i am a 24 degree Satyrn in Leo and the conjunction doesn’t actually happen til the 20th of November next year)

ahhh
sometimes
i am a very SAD Panda…
i guess i’ve got a lot of sadness..
dissapointments
in myself
and others…
the world in general
the critisms and judgements…
hurts and angers..
no wonder i was so sad…
something about Ptown..
that Vortex…
it kept reminding me
showing me over and over
i’d place my hand over his heart and feel the love
the lack love
the wishes
the joy
the playing
the playfulness
the Life.
i’d feel it.
happy birthday, Cancer.
such sadness
sometimes i feel overwhelmed
but it’s just sadness
when i got back into town
i went directly out dancing..
and the show didn’t start when it said it would
so i got to stand around and watch the drag queens
queens
divas
queer boys..
some kid from London named Luka came up to me and ground his hips into me
kissed me
licked my ear
suck his hand down my pants
and said “i want to lick your butt’
but i was waiting for the show
past the rock/glam cover of Madonna’s Frozen
and the roof-top smoking
i waited
and when it came
it was only one song…
and some worry.
i didn’t get to sleep til 5
but still woke at 8 to make sure i’d be to the garden on time…
but B had fucked things up
got a new lock for all the tools..
and lost the key.
it took a long time to figure that out, of course
but when it all did
i left
sad and frustrated:
i’d come back to work at the garden
and here she was…
here
flaking out
totally disorganized..
but she’s bleeding
and how can i argue with that?
my emotions can’t really be respected
coz she’s where she’s at.
OK
maybe that pang
that pulling
when getting on the ferry
and the buss
was saying
“don’t go back: you don’t need to”
well
when i got to the garden
a beautiful fairy jumped the fence in a skirt and huge boots
ripped up arms
delicate face
pale pale skin
long red hair
Ok, babe
Ok.
and the boy
the monkey wrench boy
the cut the lock
and talked
most of the day was spent showing off the garden
to them
other kids
other parents
community members
and a drunk guy…
i gave away collards.. lots of them
and two eggplants
some fennel
basil
catnip
some kids came and helped me dig
just at the only real Labour i was doing that day
a guy i’d met before
his brother and sister
and mother!
they all grabbed shovels and dug in the rocky ground!
we re-made the bed..
Beautiful!
planted the foxgloves
got everything watered
then i headed down to get bike #1 from the dutch
… it was so amazing
once i got the tires filled and the seat adjusted
to ride through NYC…
the road is terrifying
the holes
ruff! ruff!
WOOF!
the cars, cabs, tons of people
a lot different than riding in many other places
but i can deal
my legs are already sore!
i rode home
did a massage trade with a very interesting fellow
then we went out to eat
— there’s a whole world outside my door i don’t know yet.
it makes me aware that to really be a part of this community
i have to live here for a few years..
it isn’t going to happen in just a few months
patience, dragonfly..
i went to sleep at 2
surprised i was tired..
woke around 11 this morning
and was a lump
things to do
undone
well deserved rest and stillness?
a friend came over
and drove me to pick up Bike #2
whereupon
i changed my plans (which had changed already from other plans i’ve made: is this indicative of my Satyrn? my foundation is ever-shifting?)
and went to spend some time with Nay…
we walked
and shopped
bike lock
shoes
chocolate
shuffle
yeah…
i locked the bike at 16th street
and heading up to work on a client
-it was cuddle therapy!
then down to columbus circle
for my most regular client right now
— an hour of conversation before
— where i shouted at his boy friend for making fun of me for hugging a tree
he said
” a tree is so cold and inanimate…”
and i kinda lost it.
EVERYTHING IS ALIVE AND LOVES YOU
if you treat it that way.
[ THANK YOU ]
the massage was great
another hour of talking
a subway ride to the bike
a bike ride around
around!
YES YES YES
pizza
pumperknickle bagel with walnut and raisin cream cheese
YES YES
a ride around
HOME
home..
locked up with my big safe lock
yeah
OK
then
up
here
then up to sleep!
to sleep!
thank you
hello
Thank you.
i’m off tomorrow to Ithaca!
Yeah!
yeah!
i’m off forever and ever
dominic’s always leaving.

yes
stuck in traffic on the BQE
but when i saw the face of the Chrystler building shrouded in mist
i got giddy
home again in New York..
i love this town

Leaving Ptown today
i was wracked with sadness
terrible feeling
like i was making a horrible mistake: Leaving.
like i was leaving love behind
somehow
losing something…
every step i took away felt the same thing
in Boston
after the second client
heading into the bus station
the same pull/pang
What is this?
who is it?
i didn’t fall in love this week…
oh, but i wanted to..
there were certainly a few
in the streets
not the beach
in the streets
in the bars
in the…
those fucking hungry ghosts
gnawing at my heels
the deamons of gay culture
begging for the perfect wife/husband
to save my life.
“but ya gotta have Devotion”
even the bus station says to me
i get here at 7:45 and have to buy a ticket for 9pm
i walk to the train station: no better option
and when i get back
at quarter after 8
the line is just as long as it was before
but now
for the 9pm bus
tons of people heading to New York City
where we all wanna be
now we’re getting in at 2 am if we’re lucky
will the roads be open?
i’m going to have to get cabs anyway if i’m going to want to make the show i wanted to see tonight
yet again
paying 10 or 15$ to only see a few moments of someone
late night performers
dancing
all the gay boys
it’s busy
this life is busy…
but yeah, i decline
i mean
i’m sorry
that is
no, i’m not spending adequate time enriching myself
not with the Networking (spinal body work)
not with the piano lessons
or language classes
no
i’m not being devotional to myself
or my lover
i hear him
and i hear Eli saying
“it will not work like that, dominic:
you will not find a lover that will make you stop having sex with the multitudes…
you will have to stop first and then the lover will come to you”
and rumi whispers
“YOU MUST ASK FOR WHAT YOU REALLY WANT
—- DON’T GO BACK TO SLEEP —-”
and i’m not being devotional
but i’m sitting of the floor of the bus station at 25 past 20 waiting
not really out of devotion
but because
sometimes
ya just have to wait
anything else would be a mistake
Right?
what is that tug?

i’m on the ferry leaving Ptown
a very strange feeling
one that i KNOW many people are familiar with
but i haven’t felt for about 10 years
(well, the last time i remember feeling it: it was very strong… returning from England)
that… Leaving Magic feeling.
Vacation.
i guess i just took a Vacation.
Weird.
Back to EveryDayLife.