Raven’s crime.

To those who trespass only to trespass , and those who stir the pot only to stir problems. 
     Those trespassers must understand. There are consequences to these actions blood , bone, or steel. A price must be extracted by one from the other. Some don’t see this. All they may see is the short game Wirh out the end result, that violence so many fear and crave. That sweet total dominance over a worthy adversary who is also willing. This is what Dom means to me. This is why I cannot Dom someone I love. But it shames me not to admit that feeling of destroying my enemy gets me hard. 

you know who you are!!!!’

Made a wrong turn. Wile zigzagging through these streets of my school years, (west side of Latonia)I see only ghost, overdoses, stabbings, the eco of shotgun blast, the ricochet of a .25 cal bouncing down the ally. 

     The things that I could have become if I had not chosen to spend time with those criminals, drunks and drug dealers. It saddens me that I walked away from true friends,to play laky to wannabe bangers. 

    I’m so disgusted with myself, my choice’s, the people that I thought were my friends. Most of the are long scene dead. I could have been so much more. 

      missed opportunity for money, girls, I could have been a metal vocalist, one of the best shredders in town tried to recruit me himself. I did not have the balls to even try. Knowing now that I would have done well. 

    The military wanted me at 17yo. I consider this another live changing opportunity that I passed on out of total ignorance. Having spent most of my adult life in security anyway. 

to be continued. Damon859 

I gave out on my writing for years. I have tried to replicate some old works on here and cage, but as for producing new idea, new works I’ve been unsuccessful.

Every time I sit to watch regular TV either with my son or my parents a single thought occurs “someone got paid to write this shit”
No matter how critical I may be of my own writing I could never produce anything fit for mass consumption. few authors I respect actually have. But I intended to try once more.

I intended to work on several pieces on these to social media sites (fetlife & The gage) I look forward to constructive criticism. (I know my spelling and grammar suck but I personally believe grammar has no place in poetry)

I hop you enjoy.

I spent the day with a friend of friends. After 2 days of working together, I Started to feel a serious connection with this woman. 
   I’m very social awkward. I can’t read females in this state of mind. I don’t feel that she likes me in that way. 

not sure why im weighting this anyway 

I fear Cincinnati may burn on Sunday. Their first supper bowl in almost 40yrs. I’m not a football fan, but, If the Bengals win there will be much rejoicing   
history tells us that the Bangles will blow it   
I hope they win. 
i do not want to see the after math of this loss.  Cincinnati already has a reputation for rioting. 

I read a meme the other day. 
“ the library is the only public space that you are allowed to exist without any explanation of spending money” 

Normally I would chuckle, share and move on, but it stuck with me. So last night I find myself at the mall. 
    I understand that the online market did most of the damage. But it began earlier than that. There was an arcade in my mall when I was young, and we went to Tilt (the arcade) with the intention of spending money. Either we would meet up there, or parents would drop the kids there wile they went shopping. 

          In the late 80’s/early 90’s every mall started to push out the arcade. Most people believe it was the home consoles that did it but it was this simply act that was the beginning of the end for the great monuments of consumerism. 
         Denial of these kids a place to exist peacefully created a an environment of persecution board cops with nothing to do but harass kids, kids like me, long hair, leather metal shirts.

            End part 1. 
to be continued. 

The day I died I heard god laughing, violent, thunderous laughter that could only come
From a deity mocking your very soul. The prophet had spoken and I had walked from one trap into another. one by one to the amusement of many I played the games and lost in spectacular fashion.
“If you seek love you shall find it. If you desire glory it will be had. If it would be peace, then peace can be yours.”
I listened to this man, this broken prophet. And believed his tail. Bought this fantasy, and embarked on my journey, the journey that led me here bitter, betrayed, damned and dead.
  Was this some sort of punishment, my own personal curse for who I had become? Having never been a godly man, I often invoked the name in either mockery or contempt. Perhaps it was a part to play as I stumbled into this role unknowingly, as if a fish caught in a net just one of hundreds. No matter, the broken prophet knew what he was doing and therefore knew I would play my part blindly and foolishly. 
    It d doesn’t really matter why I took the bait. I wondered ever forward seeking the destiny I had been promised, seeking my glory my honor marching toward what he led me to believe was fortunate. 

Seeing darkly, as if limousine tented mirrors serve to corrupt all beauty before it could be taken in. Tainted pleasure shaved baron, the rough and jagged cuts of a foul blade dull and rusted. 
    These lies told told most tenderly through soft voice and wicked tongue serves only to remind us of what could have manifested purely but for lament. The smothering luminescence of the sky shrouded in doubts and sloth. 
     The desolation creeps towards the horizon, sprouting agony in its wake. Winds rise, and in the bite of burning cold a single word can be heard. “More” 

Until 7 years ago my idea of dominance was the violent act of removing a drunken customer or stepping into the middle of a bar brawl, and dragging people out by the throat.
I was introduced to the lifestyle by seeking out other poly people. A wise man told me at my first munch that no matter what I thought I wanted, it was wrong. No matter how deep I dug, new aspects of the life and in turn, my desire allowed for more glorious and terrifying knowledge to be manifested.
Now being a Dom seems for me either out of character or a role I fear would lead to power hunger.
I fully understand that I have allowed my profession to deeply corrupt my personality.
Now I feel as if I enjoy the concept of a switch. Every encounter can be unique. But the primal instinct has a powerful attraction The possibility of physical dominance and being rough is as thrilling as it is horrific, that being said, my favorite submissive activity was electric play and being flogged (though I wish he hadn’t held back so much.)