It's All Relevant

Social media throws a constant curveball: nudity equates to intimacy. Sizzling swimsuit pictures? Connection. Shirtless selfies? It must be true love. But hold on a beat, everyone, because author Joanna Lannister just delivered a truth bomb that will rewrite the rules of intimacy.

Joanna declares:

Do you think you've seen her naked because she removed her clothes? Tell me about her dreams. What ignites her passion and what brings tears to her eyes? Tell me about her childhood. Better yet, tell me a story about her that does not include you.
Mic drop. Joanna redefined intimacy for the 21st century, and it is about to get serious.

Consider this. You can see someone stripped bare, but have you ever glimpsed the vibrant tapestry woven from their hopes, fears, and wildest dreams? Do you know the stories etched into their soul, the ones that shaped who they are today? Have you ventured beyond the physical to explore the landscapes of their passions and vulnerabilities?

Because true intimacy, friends, is a journey into the depths of another human being. It is about unraveling the layers that make them unique, the stories whispered in the quiet corners of their hearts. It is about witnessing their tears and celebrating their triumphs, even when you're not the center of attention.

The next time you believe intimacy is achieved through seeing some skin, ask yourself: Can you narrate a story about them entirely separate from yourself? Can you navigate the labyrinth of their dreams? If not, then perhaps it is time to crack open that fascinating book you have been skimming through and truly delve into the depths of who they are.

We can rewrite the script. We can redefine intimacy as a profound connection that transcends the physical. Celebrate the stories that make us human, the vulnerabilities that bind us, and the dreams that ignite our souls. Because that, friends, is where the real magic happens.

©TLK2024

Thank you to Maxorde for the challenge,

My pick is Jimi Hendrix ~ Little Wing

Well, she's walking through the clouds
With a circus mind that's running wild
Butterflies and Zebras
And Moonbeams and fairy tales
That's all she ever thinks about
Riding with the wind

When I'm sad, she comes to me
With a thousand smiles, she gives to me free
It's alright, she says it's alright
Take anything you want from me
Anything
Fly on little wing

"BDSM is like visiting a kinky Amusement Park. Once you pay the entry fee, you hop on an erotic roller coaster of deviant self-discovery. Although I have the threat of pain before me, I’m not even close to wanting to get off this ride. It’s such a fucking thrill. Or is that a thrilling fuck? Whatever. Either way, it’s as hot as hell."

― Nikki Sex, Kink

The mature woman you think is attractive has her life together, is accomplished, and comes with the added bonus of purchase: She’s submissive. Jackpot, right? Well, yeah. But let’s unpack that a little.

Look at her.

She is, perhaps, married, or was. She may have children and no help at home, or survived the child-rearing and is now looking to new stages in her life. She may have an ex whose sole purpose in life is to score points off her, she may have an aging family to care for. Daily, she keeps several plates spinning at the top of tall reeds, and you better believe keeping those things spinning isn’t an act of choice for her. If she lets them fall, they shatter spectacularly, people look and gawk and judge her harshly for her failures.

Look at her.

She is in control at all times, because there are no choices. No alternatives for her, not until those delicious few hours when someone places a collar around her neck and leads her to sanctuary. Until someone ensures that it’s okay to leave the reeds, the plates will spin on, awaiting her return. She revels in the mindlessness of no expectation other than acquiescence, the quietude of simply existing. That is her respite, her renewal. And if, during renewal, she might feel pleasure, so much the better. So much sweeter those achievements, those moments, those peaks. She knows to value each one.

Look at her.

She is, perhaps, a professional of some sort. She might manage people, or create things. Could be she is a force to be reckoned with, meeting deadlines and keeping the ship in its lane. Without question, she has been fighting her entire life for the same recognition you take for granted. She manages her life quite handily, and largely prefers it that way, saving for the moments that she would like to put all of it down, to step away. She revels in not being the steward of lives and lifestyles if only for a short time, entrusted only to the one person she can surrender herself and her stewardship. She looked long and hard for that person, and if that one is you, take note.

Look at her.

Careful, careful thought has gone into the placing down of those burdens. She has weighed the imperatives that others place upon her against her instinct to succumb to the siren call of tranquility. She has calculated, considered, and decided. There is a deliberateness to the action of transferring power. The reward meets the risk, and she is equal to the task. You are her partner in the exchange, and she has faith in your strength and trusteeship.

Look at her.

She has bent for you. Knelt, bent, allowed herself to be arranged, raised pink and tender places for your inspection and attention and your tools and implements. She has chosen the fluid exchange of energy, gathering strength from her suffering for you, taking your darkness into her, committing her flesh to the healing of both cell and spirit. She allows she chooses, she commits. Her will unleashes your own and in turn, your will keeps hers secure.

Look at her.

Struggle with the deviation from societal norms has left her vulnerable. She has sought out a place to give away, if only for a short while, her body, her conscious mind, and perhaps even a portion of her soul. With the shedding of her clothing, that nakedness runs deeper than the flesh. When she is wrapped in blankets and forehead kisses or later slipping into street clothes, she is quietly donning the protective garments of her everyday life.

Look at her. Isn’t she fine?

~Author Unknown

As children, most of us have been taught the importance of manners. We were asked "What do you say?" when we wanted something and the appropriate response was "Please" or "Thank you" once we received it. For me, manners are more than just words - they make up a part of my identity and essence.

During my relationship, manners played a crucial role. My partner demanded that I use them by asking "Is that how you're going to ask?" Although it was often unnecessary because I had already used my manners. Manners were a powerful way of showing my submission to him. Whenever I wanted to ask for something, I would say, "May I please ask you something?" This phrase was heard many times a day, and his answer was always the same - "Yes, beautiful, always." I never used it as a default or blanket permission. I always ask because manners are powerful.

So why are manners powerful? The answer is simple - they show respect, reverence, and appreciation. They profoundly demonstrate all of these qualities. They gave my partner power and showed him I appreciated everything he did for me. Manners cost nothing but can take you far in life.

If only I could transform into sunlight, I would warm you through and make you feel the comfort of my warmth. If I could be the crescent moon, I would light up your path and make sure you never have to walk alone in the dark. If I were the stars, I would twinkle in the sky and grant your every wish upon your lips. As a cloud in the sky, I would gather your thoughts and imagination and create something beautiful out of them.

If I were the rain, I would fall gently on your face and create goosebumps all over your skin, making you feel alive. If I were the sky, I would open up to receive your votive offerings and grant your every prayer. And if I were the heavens, I would worship you in return and make sure that you always feel loved and appreciated.

I wish I could embody all these things to make you feel special and loved every single day.

When I choose a dominant, it will not be based on how attractive he is. I’ve dated Adonis. It will not be based on his level of genius; I was owned by Socrates. It will not be based on his passion; Narcissus collared me.

It will be he that makes me feel safer. Why safe? I often wonder why that need is so inherent. Perhaps it’s because the world is chaotic. I find nothing exciting or attractive about chaos. It’s cold and unorganized, thoughtless with no meaning. I don’t like chaotic people or places. Perhaps it’s because I prefer to delve into the wonders of the universe with passion, abandonment, and sensual recklessness and I need to be safe to do so.

Perhaps in the past, I was shut down or beaten because my passion was incomprehensible and insatiable. I’m a dreamer, I’m obstinate, I’m a surrealist, I’m powerful, I’m insecure, I’m loving, I’m spiritual and I’m sexual.

I’m not Venus, Aphrodite, or Diana but I’m a Goddess nonetheless. I’m intellectually erotic and elegantly twisted. I’m wild and temperamental, fiercely loyal and independent. I am beautifully flawed.

And with the right amount of security and guidance, adoration and inspiration, I know my servitude can make a man omnipresent and powerful. And in return, what I expect is simply to be safe. Such a small word yes, but one with such magnificent repercussions.

On my knees, I will be centered and, in his arms, I will know peace. On my knees, he will be worshipped and he will know enlightenment. Wrapped in his love and protection, he will lead me to explore the mysteries of the universe and its infinite possibilities and I will finally feel safe enough to love and be loved.

The Rose ~ Bette Midler

Some say, love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
Some say, love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
Some say, love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
I say, love, it is a flower
And you, its only seed

It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It's the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance
It's the one who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
And the soul afraid of dying
That never learns to live

When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose

She was aware that she had the power to indulge in passion at any moment, with anyone, anywhere. Yet, she yearned for more. She craved to be pursued with fervent passion, to be consumed by desire. Her longing was not to be fulfilled by just any man but by a Wolf.

The act of being selective holds great significance. Safeguarding the innermost essence of our being from negative influences, toxic individuals, and superficial connections is paramount. At times, this requires patience beyond our desires, but in the grand scheme of things, it is a demonstration of self-value.

My favorite team in pinstripes is back again. Today is Opening Day in the Bronx for the Yankees. I was lucky enough to snag a few tickets to the game. The New York Yankees will play their home opener today in the Bronx. They face the Toronto Blue Jays at 1:05 p.m.

It's a big day for baseball fans, who should be feeling good about the start of the season. The Yankees opened with a four-game sweep against the Houston Astros, then won two of three games against the defending National League champion Arizona Diamondbacks.

The Yankees will step onto the field with high expectations, but also some renewed confidence after making a blockbuster trade over the offseason to acquire slugger Juan Soto. This will be the first time fans see him in pinstripes.

The 25-year-old joins Aaron Judge and Giancarlo Stanton in the lineup, as they try to get back into the postseason after missing in 2023. The Yankees are back in the Bronx with a 6-1 record.