Boymeat (boymeat) wrote,
Boymeat
boymeat

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Saturday morning happiness.

Life isn't perfect, no... it never is. My back still hurts (when I stand for a while, it and my legs hurt - it makes me feel very old), for example.

But... today is not about complaining.

Today is about self-celebration.

Today is about thinking about last night, driving out to an art opening, meeting up with a large group of friends who have welcomed me in to their gatherings over the past year.

Or playing Clown Car in the Pimp Daddy Van, piling in an amazing mass of people from the art show, driving to a loft apartment in the far reaches of the ever-expanding reaches of Williamsburg, Brooklyn, to dive head-first into hedonistic pleasures. My singletail flew, butts were caned. New acquaintances, budding play relationships and friendships, and smiles and laughs.

Today is falling in love once again with my building, and my apartment (who's lease I have just signed for another year). Happiness is ordering a large shipment of lovely smelling oils to burn, and a flannel bedding set online for happy toasty sleepy goodness. Or celebrating that a girl who's back I opened with a singletail last night is currently naked in my apartment, wearing a remote control TENS unit on her thigh, cleaning my bathroom.

I really love my apartment. I love that it is mine. I love that it is my refuge. I love that my art and my pictures reflect me and my personality... they show who I am. I love that people come over to gaze at my bookshelves, which lead into amazing conversations about sex, the scene, and history. I love thinking about the piece of furniture I might one day buy, if I find it, to display my handcuff collection.

I love having my music play in my apartment, filling it with sounds that can reflect my mood, can take me to other moods. I love that I have my music.

I love being able to come home, sit back with a glass of wine, and watch old episodes of Monty Python, thanks to the gracious gift from my gorgeous, amazing, holy shit I can't believe she's mine, slave.

I love that I will have yet another visitor tonight. I love opening the door to my home with friends.

I love that I will be seeing one of my two darling little girls in a few weeks.

I love that more friends from the south are now plotting to come visit me in my apartment.

I want more of you to come visit me in my apartment.
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