The Seduction of Pleasure – Mixing Business & Erotica

I continue to feel restless.

I need inspiration. Fire.
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There is something changing.
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Feel a shift, a need for a new passion.
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Something erotic.

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Life is a funny thing. One mans problems, are another mans respite.

This amazing & dramatic photo was taken by Mr_Role_Model who is also in the photo.

See the full color version here.

Love it!

Had a conversation recently with an associate regarding being ruthless in business. I was explaining to him how to be ruthless in a way that produced results.

He has a multi-million dollar business, but he was letting some problematic issues slide to the point of affecting his bottom line profit.
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He had become mired down in discovering some flaws after the fact rather than being proactive and taking control as they occurred. Sometimes in the working of a complex business, this happens.

An effective leader commands, not demands, however, there is a time when making things happen is critical. Hemorrhaging money is one of those times. Stop this from happening in the quickest most efficient way possible.

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In his case,  and without going into too much detail, a couple of the many key things I told him to do were  to side step his less motivated partner on an important issue. His action would only serve to benefit the whole.

Also, I told him to give pink slips to all the employees who knowingly allowed losses to occur. And make an example of them.

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There is a time to be diplomatic, and a time to be ruthless.

In business, you can’t be “nice” if you want to succeed.

The results? My advice is working, beautifully.

Even more than my desire to tempt your body, I hunger to torment your soul.

Sinking to the floor in sinuous repose. Slinking, slithering towards you, sliding a gloved hand around your wrist. Mounting you, possessed.

Love is tension and hot fire, soft hushed voices echo desire. Cold flash chill on the skin, passion interweaves with sin. Love is madness.

As read by Shizzle . . . HERE

A sinister wicked wind, blows in tonight. Children all huddle, in a dark fright. How is it you have sinned? Confess to my sheer delight.

Ever run the tip of your soul along the razor sharp edge of a long knife?

Superfluous chill on the dark wind, look at the moon & back he did grin. Wispy thin clouds thread their way, the stars claw, tear and fray.

Night comes in with a grimace & grin, cloaked in red, his name is Sin. Waving his crooked scythe in the air, every other soul, he left bare

Now Darkness gathers speed, he charges in on a Arabian steed. Hoof sparks flinging stars into the sky, grasp your dreams, and wonder why.

I love the smell of your agony stained tears.

And now once again dark night, it’s your catatonic blues. Things won’t ever be right, until my heart has paid it’s untimely dues.

Into a big sturdy steamer trunk, I’m packing up those now orphan dreams. I will lock them far away, until I no longer hear their screams.

Night clouds make a soft bed, on occasion, my soul has bled. Stars are now hidden from view, there are some things time, can never undo.

In Sin we are compelled, driven, we must. In Sin we gladly, willingly, give up distrust. In Sin we abandon all our desires to sheer lust.

The most tortured souls, bring forth and give life to the most extraordinary creative beauty.

Night wind blows the palm trees, it whispers to me, truth in degrees. My stray soul named desire, it’s passion burns like a star lit fire.

My childhood dolls were named Agony and Apathy.

There are certain songs that have, what I call “magic moments”.

I’m sure there is a more technical term, but no matter, these are moments in songs where there is a pause in the lyrics, and the music creates or evokes a feeling. A magic feeling.

The song “Estranged” by Guns N Roses has two such extended magic moments.

Listen to this 9:51 minute song HERE, and hear the magic at approximately 3:55 – 5:32, and 7:35 -  8:30.

There is something about the guitar, piano and drum combination, that simply captivates me.

Hey elderly couple who walks slowly down my street sometimes, always hand in hand. . . We should all be so lucky to have a love like yours.

You know that thing you do, when you let that special person know without a doubt, that they are special to you? Let them know, every day.

Hey big scary looking dude with the huge arms and shaved head who walks by my house with your little girl & 3 small dogs: You are a good Dad.

I get crushes on people’s words. I fall in love with people’s minds.

If I told you, you had a beautiful soul, would you hold it against me?

And so, once again, darkness gathers. I am comforted by it. Like a shroud, it cloaks me. And the stars, like fire, they dance for me.

My heart is a barefoot child who keeps running into traffic.

Lets run away along the edge of the surf, eat cotton candy, draw hearts with colored chalk, and make love under the liquid mercury stars.

What a world it would be, if people were rewarded for their unique qualities and vivid imagination in society, the way they are on twitter.

Sometimes love feels like the soft breast of a white dove, and sometimes love feels like the throat choke of a black leather glove.

Never stop trying to make those personal demons work for you, rather than against you.

My mind and heart may be promiscuous, but my soul is monogamous.

Sometimes in the morning, I catch a whiff of a mans cologne as he heads off to work, and it makes me miss the father I wished I’d had.

Do you smell that? The scent of roses and blood being carried on the wind.

Gather close, night my friend, wear that velvet cloak and descend. Chalice moon with stars to tend, it’s your beauty, that shall transcend.

Great circus of life! Barkers freaks strongmen & geeks. Ferris wheel & merry-go-round, time we spend going around, all the days of our weeks.

Let’s freebase opium, lose whole days, set cities on fire, throw diamonds in the sea, let caged tigers roam, and fuck under the night sky.

Dusk now, night soon, up will rise a mercury moon. Velvet sky the stars are strewn, my soul drifts in a blood red balloon.

I don’t think life is worth living without a muse, or being a muse. A life without passion is no life at all. Be my muse, and I’ll be yours.

Love is it’s own form of bondage.

I want to swim in your sorrow, taste lust on your lips, poison your blood, haunt your soul, control your mind, shadow your moving flame.

Imagine if we gave in to all our carnal lusts, with no compunction. Imagine if we gave in to every Sin, our souls unscathed by our desires.

Night wraps dark wings around me. Familiar accomplice, languid devotee. Stars so bright on velvet air, invite my wandering soul to share.

Reality is a harsh & cruel mistress. Agony is her faithful lover. Hopes & dreams are her children. Love & passion her nemesis.

I spent all night fighting and wrestling with demons. When the morning came, I realized, I had only been wrestling with myself.

Let’s fake our death, run away on wild horses, steal gold ingots, buy an island, sink a ship & make love in a palace laden with butterflies.

People often ask me, what my story is?

I will tell you my story:

Life is not fair.

Life is less fair to some, than others.

Get over it, and make something of yourself, regardless.

The end.

I just want a man who will love me for my fucked up childhood baggage and inability to trust. P.S. I stopped blaming my parents. Mostly.