Words

When I stared this Blog it was out of a need to explore what erotic thoughts and desires I  have.  In this short month I have been shocked at what I have learned.  Is it me or is it her that has done this?  I have read many blogs that have excited me but there were 2 that touched some passion deep inside of me that I did not realize was there.  I am always so in control of my feelings - I must be in order to do what I have promised to do. I have made a commitment and I will live up to it, not simply because I do not break my word but because I want to.  Still, in being the responsible one, in being the giving one I have needed to lock part of myself away, call it a defense mechanism.  Until now I have not had any real problem with that, I never understood those feelings anyway.  Now though, perhaps because I am older and more mature, I understand them better and am not so afraid of them.  Now I want to get to know them, so I look for some way to explore them.
One friend has come along that touches them in such a way that I am truly challenged.  Not only to I feel the unadulterated roar of sexual energy I also feel something else that I can not quite pinpoint yet.  Is it some deep well of masculinity?  I am not sure.  I admit my understanding of that subject is rather tenuous.  I am a man that does not understand men - how odd. 
What follows if my first serious attempt at writing to convey emotion and feeling rather than action.  I hope I have managed to make some progress.




Can you hear that?  For a moment I heard something.  It was the oddest sensation.  For a moment my ears almost felt light, felt like they would float away.  It is gone now.  I must have imagined it; nothing more than an itch, some dry skin, an unusual moment of blood flow.  I turn back to my task.  I reach out and grasp the handle, pull with all my strength.  The familiar buzz returns to my ears, the numbness returns.  I continue to wield my hammer; blow after blow I reshape the rock.  This is my job, my duty, my promise and thus my life.  Bit by bit I reshape this bit of the world.  Long ago I took on my task and have diligently devoted myself to the labor.

I feel the harsh wind on my skin; flowing under the coarse coveralls I must wear to protect myself from the flying ships of pebble.  Sweat pours down my face, seeps from my pores on my arms and legs, slicking my hair, making me feel covered, and the dust from the rock sticks to my sweat, changing the color of my flesh.  For so long now I have been coated like this that now I feel bare whenever I manage to wash it off.

My ears begin to ring with the buzz of my labor, my blood rushing around and through the delicate tissue of my eardrums, overwhelming my sense, inuring me to the actual harshness of what I do.  My arms ache from my labor, my chest tight and soar.  I stop for a moment, release the hammer, but it leans against my leg as I reach out and stretch.  I look around, letting my eyes adjust so I can see what is around.  I grab a cloth and some water and try to wipe some of the grime off of my face and arms.  It helps a little.  I try to relax.  The buzz is still in my ears.

Suddenly, there it is again, that sound.  I hold my breath, afraid it will flutter off like the delicate butterfly it must be.  This time it does not stop so suddenly.  I stand there feeling the warmth of the delicate sound soothe my ears.  I feel the buzzing recede.  This warmth spreads.  I can feel it seep along my veins and arteries.  Everywhere it goes I can feel that warmth.  What is that warmth?  Now, as these wonderful sensations flows into me I can feel the pain of that dreadful numbing buzz.  When the buzz was all I felt I did not realize how much it hurt.  Now, with this reverberating joy in me, I can feel the harshness of the buzz.

For a while I bask in the spread of this healing warmth.  My skin stops aching, my muscles become once again pliant and for a brief time the pain stops.  For all too brief a period I am able to simply stand and indulge this happiness.  I must now get back to work.  I try to hold on to the sweetness but the buzz begins to flow through me again.  Still, it is different now.  Some part of me can remember he sweetness and though this makes me all too aware of the pain it also reminds me that I can feel the sweetest of sensations and in that I find hope that I may feel it again some day.