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| Reflections on an Anniversary & This Place
by kinkycapitalist at 11/6/2009 6:29:25 AM
It is coming up on 2 years since I slithered into this place (“of all the gin joints in the world . . ." ) and probably time for me to go. Soon, but not yet. Not because I found what I came for but because it is just time.
To say that I am opinionated is to say that America owes a few bucks, here and there. My opinions are strong but hopefully not hurtful as they are meant not to force my opinion on others but to make others examine their own opinions and actions and to determine, like me, if they are proceeding on a path that they really want to go down. I have tried to employ humor, as humor is my muse, but humor means different things to different people and depends on who’s ox is being gored and peeve is being petted.
All that I have opined or stated was not necessarily true nor necessarily a lie and while not recognized as one of my problems or personal concerns, was assumed to be by many. Bottom line is DO NOT take anyone’s posts as gospel or as lies, experience reality for yourself.
For both personal and business reasons, that a few people know about, I have not only participated (heavily) in the forums, I have actually gone out and or met a few from the online experience. I have protected the guilty as well as the innocent and will continue to do so, but I have experienced the gamut from one woman emerging from a nearly 2 decade lesbian relationship to date the Kink, to guys who politically hating my guts and berating me on the forums, seeking my advise on legal, financial and business matters, indicating to me that our public personas are not necessarily reflective of who we are and what we want.
Most people, here, online are terribly vulnerable, regardless of what we profess. We divide into several categories but a few are worth stating so that perhaps “some” will at least give a thought to it before coming to the conclusion, as usual, "Kinky is full of shit."
There are those who insist on putting their worst and dirtiest foot forward, figuring that if you can take it, they stand a chance. They are the ones with the pictures of themselves with no makeup, a beer belly over their jeans, hair askew, stubble on face or legs, a picture of the single-wide and their teeth in the glass they are toasting the camera with. These profile pictures are tantamount to showing up to a job interview with beer-breath and a joint dangling from your mouth. It is really the UGLY having a chip on their shoulders, “love the inner man/woman”.
There are those who look good but either in their profile or first couple of emails reveal stuff that as an attorney or psychiatrist, you wouldn’t want to know until the appeal or second year of therapy. I call them, the faces that launched a thousand shits. (we just say, “ah shit!”). I am an old fart but, I seem to recall in my senility that when I first dated, I tried to hide a zit, let alone a propensity to molest iguanas, a current spouse who’s an ax-murderer or my gay lover. After all, shouldn’t we leave something to talk about on the second date? Do any of us act this way in church, the supermarket, at a c*cktail lounge or on your average run of the mill, BLIND date?
There are those of us, and I fall into this category, who get hung up on a profile picture or a profile posting and fantasize “THIS IS THE ONE!” The problem is, they don’t know that they are the one and your telling them that, before telling them you name, for some peculiar reason scars the Tampax/Preparation “H” out of them and does not seem to engender the response that you calculated it would. I guess we just need to let the slower amongst us come to the same conclusion that we have, prior to sending out the birth announcements for our grandchildren. Just a thought.
Finally, in this segment of the blog, let’s talk about the “I don’t do nuthin until someone declares their love and loyalty to me’ ones or as I like to think of them, the MADE men/women. Either we have some really hot men and women who like the Mafia, have a right to demand loyalty as a precondition to saying hello or a whole lot of fragile people so fearful of saying that they like chocolate ice cream for fear that the restaurant will no longer stock it, that they pretend to not like chocolate ice-cream and will only eat it if it will save a child in Biafra.
Do we really act this way when meeting people, for the first time, on the street, at work or while incarcerated?
More to follow, maybe . . .
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