ratchetstardust


ratchet45 Male Switch, 45, Palmerston	ratchet1199 Male Dominant, 36, norwich	ratchetjaw Male Dominant, 29, Gladstone, Oregon

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	About ratchetstardust I'm 21 years old, an artist, a poet, and an appreciator of all things lovely and beautiful. I'm a vegan, and have no time for those whom are not as open-minded as myself (having been raised in Missouri, I consider myself exceedingly so as far as omnivores are concerned). I'm a beer snob, I smoke clove cigarettes on occasion, and I hate most modern music. The things that make me happy are my two beautiful felines, a snappy big-band song, or a sorrowful classical piece, as well as candles and a general off-tune atmosphere. I'm misanthropic as hell, and it's not a characteristic that I'm willing to shed any time soon. To be certain I'm not your average girl, and I'm not looking for an average counterpart. Deep in my soul I'm a hopeless romantic, and I need somebody that craves such as well, although my romanticism is not limited; I tend to find the romance in otherwise mundane situations, because ultimately if I find that I am to be alone still, well, what could possibly be more romantic than that? I'm very independent, and require the same independence from my partner: please have fun without me. It will make you the beautiful person for me to become enthralled with. Please feel free to not text me ruthlessly, as there is little I find more irritating.. I'm easygoing in these ways, and I hope to find someone who appreciates it because I will as well. Vagueness aside, I seek a sincere gentleman who will see me as a sincere person as well (be it gentleman, lady, I do like to crossdress), and willing to accommodate me. At this point I have not mentioned my submissive qualities (and have written a profile that seems more in place for dominants). But I am tirelessly picky, and once I meet the right person I am putty in their hands. Most of the people I encounter will be unable to dominate me, but still I search for my beautifully rare prince to earn the submission that I so fervently have been wanting to give.

I am so sick of the typical dom.? They all have the same personality.? He expects you to do everything he asks for the sake of learning.? If learning to mindlessly obey for the sake of obeying, I don't need to learn.? I'm far more interested in learning with a singular dom who I respect as a person rather than learning from a random dom who is neither creative nor original in his demands.

This is a land for the discontent.?

There are many more places like this that I would like to see.
And feel.
And touch.
And breathe.

All I can hope for is that life becomes more real, that the perspective that's kept me sane will drip from out my dreams, and create rich puddles that I can run my fingers through.?

Working towards perfection.
The anticipation kills me.

It's so easy to forget about those outside of your immediate surroundings.? Sometimes, anyway.

I need very little, but to strive for so much more.? My requirements are not in material, but in dreams, and the muses of dreams.? This is why my love is at the edge of its seat, and that is exactly where I want it to be.

I'm determined to make this life epic.

I suppose I shall write an actual journal entry, as opposed to cryptic poetry.? Life has been most strange recently, but when is it not?? I find myself unable to determine what it is exactly that I am looking for in general.? Of course regular sex is high on the list, but then I am confronted with the question of if it's regular sex that I want, or the act of pining for it.? It's hard to admit, but I know I also desire to simply be loved.? However, the sort of love that I desire merely raises more questions.? The love that comes with friendship?? A relationship?? Or merely the love of those who read my poetry? ?? I don't quite understand why I feel so alone, because I'm not.? I'm surrounded by friends whom I adore.? I guess I am just frustrated with the inability to meet new people, but I am at quite a loss.? The internet has not been successful thus far, and regardless it is just not old fashioned enough for my tastes.? Of course, I am not certain that I actually want to meet new people, or if I just want to know that new people exist.

If only my mind wasn't so confusing and self-destructive and divided, I might be able to know what I want and set goals or something else productive.

I send to you,
Everything.
Depend on new
And used things.
I'm in the business of recycling it all,
But now I can't help but recall
What has done me well at all?

I think I might be a gay boy in a woman's body.

How lucky!?

It cannot go both ways.?
A one sided arrow,
for the rest of our days.
And once you feel it pierce you,
You run far fast at pace.
And after it has fallen out,
Begins again the chase.
The realities cannot meet,
Instead they play just hide and seek.
And once you find something so sweet,
The salt pours from your inner cheek.

Today I found myself with a hot coal in the palm of my hand, with remnants of it all about me.? I laughed as it burned me.? I giggled as I stomped out the pieces digging into the table with a rag, while wondering how to obtain the coal I had just dropped onto the carpet. ? And I tried to salvage the main coal atop fresh sheesha in the hookah before running my hand under cold water.? After all, I'm neither good at reacting well to danger, burning things, or the last coal from the box.? And now I find myself oddly fascinated with the interesting layer of skin that is neither blistering nor bubbling, and instead like that of soft leather.? I wonder what it will look like in the morning.

Sometimes I wonder how I can best serve this world that I am subject to.? We are all servants to society, and I find myself at a loss as to how I can most efficiently channel my energy in a way that others can get the most out of it.? Am I really helping this world with my words, or am I merely validating to myself the fact that I don't get along with anybody?? Am I enlightening anyone, or just pushing along my own ugliness?? Perhaps my attempts at poetry is just a desperate means to rid myself of such perspective, and I have been lying to myself about my valiant desires to share the beauty that I see.? And sometimes I wonder if the perspective behind my words even exist before they appear before me.? Am I just channeling something, or is it genuine?? Is everything I feel just something being poured into me by a hand-hungry muse?? Is what I base so much of who I am on, not even coming from my own mind?? Does that make me a shell?

Oh, thank goodness, it's morning.? This journal turned out differently than I anticipated.

I'm abandoning my usual style of journal entry to complain about the fact that nobody reads profiles.? How could you be interested enough in someone to message them if you haven't even read their profiles?? Or, are they mass-messaging everybody?? I don't even think I can comprehend the stupidity. ?

Irony: All of your friends getting new piercings at the same time.

Different, anyone?

Sometimes I imagine a world full of people.? Sometimes I imagine a world full of varied laughter and dynamic conversation.? Sometimes I imagine shaking hands and meeting friends of friends and friends of friends of friends and family of friends and friends of family of friends and sometimes I imagine enjoying all of them.
Sometimes I imagine dining with them.
Sometimes I imagine pining with them.
Sometimes I imagine crying with them.

Sometimes I imagine that they enjoy me as well.
And sometimes I imagine that world full of people for long enough to become inevitably insatiably insensibly irritated with the first encounter to encounter me thereafter.

I find myself being pulled further and further from sexuality, and into the realm of prose.? The more I concern myself with words, the less I am concerned with flesh.? However, the more I write, the more I tend to write about flesh.? I feel at this point I must be in love with the idea of life and sexuality more than with life and sexuality themselves.? It's as though I need some sort of sexual outlet, and the concept of being so miserably alone that writing must be said outlet is so romantic and appealing to me that I'm not really quite sure what to make of anything anymore.? It is indeed a beautiful world.

I.? Need.? To.? Bite.? Flesh.

That is all.

Hi, I guess this is my first journal entry.? I suppose all I really have to say is the following:

*I'm not interested in being anybody's slave.? I enjoy the submissive part of bondage, and I separate this fancy of mine from my "normal" life.? In normal life, I am fiercely independent.

*I am looking for people with common interests to explore this...whatever it is, and learn more about it.?? Okay, I think that's a given, actually.? Let us continue.

*If you are outside of traveling distances, please do not expect me to relocate, or have an online thing.? If you are from out of area and would like to be my friend, that is awesome, but I am not traveling to Texas to pursue anything.

I think that's all.

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ratchetstardust

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