I created ShinyThings
Because, I’m in love.
You can judge me if you like, but don’t patronize me. Please.
It’s not beautiful, tragic, thrilling or any of that shit. This side of the universe is boring, tedium, and by no means grossly intuitive. It is the devil that religious folk and women talk about taking the joy out of execution of an expression. It is the thing that makes being Sapio-Sexual very lonesome.
Wait! Before we go into the sorted details, let me qualify things with saying, the common denominator in all my failed relationships, is me.
Not that there is anything inherently wrong with me, except I’m a romantic. I love for life, so, I try to keep that shit as shallow as possible, because… I’m an artist. I didn’t choose art. I don’t have to make art, but without it, I’m incomplete. So, I belong to my art and when that bitch calls, I’m out. Because art takes me deep into subspace.
So, I’m all about, sure, I’ll be your living dildo. Enjoy your season with me. Move on and move up. I’m a booty call. And thank you for blowing Bubbles today.
Now about being in love.
ShinyThings is the inspiration of Life long love #4. [Cycle complete] I can say what the fuck I want to,
1) because there’s a 99.999 percent chance that I’m never going to wake up in her bed or arms ever again.
2) I doubt if she’ll ever read my shit.
3) I don’t give a fuck anymore.
We met at a Cass Corridor dive. We were there for a writers’ workshop. She, (Let’s call her, Trulie Skrumptious) wore sneakers, jeans, a yellow tee shirt that read “I’m Fresh”, glasses (yum), a short over-processed fade and a snarky attitude. The woman I was with abandoned me there with Writer Bush’s squadron of wordsmith harpies. The woman I was with at the time left me in the company of Writer and the hoard of verbiage whores consistently, odds of something happening exponentially increase with the frequency of occurrence.
…After the deaths of my grandmother and mother in very short secession and a few times of being arrested for being loosely associate with other people’s dumb shit, I allowed Trulie Skrumshus to seduce me out of a painfully boring, but stable life as a pet dick, in an extended booty call, wrapped in the guise of a “morally acceptable” relationship. I spent days and nights listening to Trulie read my coffee and tear stained scribblings and remix them with “Black” ideas into articulated trains of thoughts that formed the velds and towers of an imaginary African nation of which I was to be the architect and founding Baba.
My friends at the time called her “Big Sexy” she was and I imagine without me in her life, she is again. She is my physical fantasy type #1.
I have 3 physical fantasy types.
Long before I’d introduced her to my people and she said, “You know we fuckin’ right?”, I was already committed to us being something beautiful for life. (Okay! I was wrong) We’d been fooling around some months when Trulie said, “I am an Ethical Slut, Poly amours and a Sex Slave.” *Face plant flat into a 15th century castle brick wall. Huh? WTW?*
Okay, back then I had no idea that there were Black Women that would willfully be kajira. (At fifty my mother was building V-10 race car engines.) Now, I know that Trulie was not my Sex Slave, someone’s but not mine. She never asked if I’d be her Master.
Trulie Skrumshus is a personality type that requires a hard hand in order to strive for personal excellence. Now I got this shit down to a science. Because it brings me joy to be of benefit to the women in my life that do not need a man for the typical things that we are told is our duty. On the for real, she was a typical suburban American brat. On the for real forreal I’m a very talented Vanilla Square.
It wasn’t until a few years after we parted, while working as photographer and key holder for my very white, Lifestyle professional Dominatrix client cum Sister-friend, Andromeda, that I learned what she, Trulie Skrumshus was trying to make me into, is the same thing most of the women in my failed relationships were trying to make me, by all definitions a *BDSM Dominant. I was to become someone doing somethings I take absolutely no pleasure in regards to a loving relationship, but something I am very good at, and something I am more than willing to do for the right price. Oh, I’m the eldest of five. I like torturing people and I’m good at it. It takes so much emotional energy and imagination to be innovative while causing as little permanent damage to the senses or the psyche.
And while I am most grateful to her for exactly this list of things, in this order: Reconnecting me with Idlewild, Michigan, Crack Chicken. Bonobo and Fink, Fringe, the truth about how she projected the life cycle of our relationship, letting me enjoy my life’s fantasy of being lover to a big, dark, nappy haired, wide hipped fuck goddess, breakfast and blowjobs by the lake, the collection of fictions she seduced me into typing out and continue to write today. Yep that’s that. Oh, and pointing me in the direction of learning to be of better service to the community of women around me that I call, MY PRIDE.
The right price
1st) Ask politely! Not negotiable. Ask politely. You know the kind of polite the biggest jerk in your social set makes note of.
2nd) Be clear, be thoughtful, be careful regarding your wishes, because if I acquiesce, you ain’t got no safe word. We stop when I say we stop. Are we clear?
3rd) I don’t reinforce negative behavior. I don’t care how you act out. If I want to punish you, I will ignore you. Because for you, pain, humiliation, & isolation are not punishment. Still of greater import we are not doing these things for my pleasure.
4th) The reciprocal will not be pleasant at first, but it will be wholly beneficial and you’ll thank me later. So, she, Trulie Skrumshus hired me to build her an online toy store, I did. It was called ShinyThings. I know because that bitch that I love, She’s gone, Trulie Skrumshus and she now has a PhD. and this is the second version of that ShinyThings idea.
ShinyThings Version 2: U-P-G-R-A-Y-E-D-D
I don’t know if you’ve ever deeply lusted a person’s mind, but, there are dozens if not hundreds of women around me that when they are around, all I want to do is comfort them and bask in the brilliance of their genius. & Oh My Goddess is THE PRIDE sexy in the physical!
Sometimes I catch myself feeling stupid enough to proposition one. Then it is mandatory that I open the Plexiglas Confessional and say aloud, “Leave me alone! I’ll fuck you. I have to go now. Bye!” Most of the women that I have successfully been able to navigate around the 23 positions in a one night stand are now women of MY PRIDE and people that I happily honor and make extra effort to set to it that their needs and wants are met.
And still the question, why ShinyThings?
Simple! But without some willingness to listen with an open ear, mind and…”Ooh! Car!” heart, it will sound like an accusation of women being rather primitive. But its genetic in its cause.
At one time, fish were the easiest and most plentiful source of protein for a woman to acquire. Dip your hand in the water and toss a fish onto the shore. That simple! It is one of those very interesting evolutionary transitions that we tend to ignore. Still, if you think about it, fish that tend to be good eating and are close to the surface of clear sunlit water, look remarkably metallic and shiny. We are trained by nature to react to these stimuli and as a result men have capitalized on it.
While I refuse to deny or even stop being a heterosexual, male urban American of predominately African descent, I also believe it good and logical to point shit like this out to my sisters. And to offer them an introduction to a different way of thinking than the ones that have been heaped upon us for thousands of years.
ShinyThings get people’s attention at least as effectively as a slap up side the back of the head.