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Friends:
moaningmystwhisperatnightmandypaintoybabygirlandiishysub4u247
MeeraMcRoyaiannachryssygirlLabellemortaboundfaerie

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I'm a dominant who enjoys a wide variety of pursuits. I enjoy reading, music, theater and travel. I have spent most of my time on this earth in North Carolina, but have had the opportunity to travel all over the world and found you can learn so much if you just take the time to stop and look around you - even if you don't speak the language. It's a lesson that has served me well in life.

I have been in the lifestyle for over 10 years now. The majority of my experience has been RT and that is what I prefer. While I am a dominant, I never take myself too seriously. There's just too much fun and joy to be had in life to spend it walking around all day trying not to smile or laugh so that you can prove you're a strict dominant. I've seen people like that and I think it's rather sad and one dimensional. I have a wicked sense of humor that comes out both in my casual interactions with others and in my play style, but I can also be a strict disciplinarian with a firm, hand when necessary! I think the term that best describes my play style is that of "sensual sadist".

Oh...I thought I would also add that I love Blues music and the poems of Spanish Poet Pablo Neruda. Here is one of my favorites:

Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda


9/4/09:

I stumbled across this poem today and deemed it worthy to sit next to the above Neruda poem. It's was written in 1919, just after World War I by William Butler Yeats:

THE SECOND COMING

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

William Butler Yeats

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Sundancer9X
 
 Mistress, Age:  45
 NYC, New York
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