Big Coyote Energy

 I was crying in my sleep again. I was crying when I woke up.  --- If you’re looking for a fun, sexy, kinky writing, this is not it. I won’t blame anyone for opting out 30 seconds or even half way through. I just.. Feel like I need to get this out, or else I’ll be doomed to keep talking about it individually (or just shutting down) with people and I don’t have the energy for that.  This is full of trauma, and parental death.  I think.. I just want people to understand why.. I’m a mess.  Or why my memory is terrible. Or why I’m in so much pain. Or why I’m so sad. Or why I’m not at X thing. Or why I’m quiet. Or why I lose time. Or forget people.  I’m gonna try a time line bullet list.. I’m NOT looking for ANY kind of suggestions for how to deal with any of this. **NO ADVICE. NONE**. I don’t even know if I’ll go re-read this or do anything past read comments once. I might even delete it. WHO KNOWS. I’m not making any promises. **Don’t PM me about it**.  -...

T he following text was written by @SilverTonguedOne. He sent this to me, as we talked and decompressed after a weekend of intensity shared with new friends. When I met you a year ago, you were a wounded and distrustful Coyote. Mangy because no one had groomed you in ages. Your ribs showed because your meals came as often as you could steal or scavenge something off the side of the road. Don't get me wrong, you were very friendly and loved silly games like tug of war with my boots. But you were generally sad and suspicious. You had a collar on, but it was old and faded and clearly the owner that put it on you wasn't around enough to fix it. But the one thing that was clear on the collar was the name... A year later, your hair is cleaner, longer, healthier. Your ribs don't show and you don't wolf your food anymore because you're no longer afraid each meal may be the last in a while. Your teeth are clean and healthy. You've had your shots and take your medicin...

[Originally published on 1/27/18] I.. Try to be fairly transparent in how I operate and how I interact with others. Whenever someone tries to put me on a pedestal, I usually just calmly tell them that I'm just an asshole with a cigar. I have a wide knowledge base, and a lot of experiences. I take those things and talk to other people about them, like cigar play, bootblacking or pet play. Sometimes I stop talking about certain things. Like with polyamory. I used to teach classes on poly. Since I no longer identify as poly, I feel like it's incredibly wrong of me to teach on that subject. Yes I've got a lot of experience (7+ years worth) and lots of suggestions and tips, but I don't have the emotional energy to talk about it at length with strangers. I have no passion for it, no drive. It's a subject best left to those practicing or identifying as poly. I've pulled my poly classes from my teaching list. After my long-term-partner and I broke up, I was ac...

[Coyote] She knows it is time to leave. He took off the collar, and with it, everything they ever were melts into memory. She will go, for a time, but always return. The range of her territory, grows slowly outward, in a spiral. She returns to him, his love, his home, his arms. Less and less often. One little thing at a time. He can't be there to feed her today. But maybe tomorrow. She'll stay around hungry for a couple of days, but after that she'll go off on her own. Hunting, scavenging, scrounging. Doing what she's always done. Then the new of 'it will be weeks' until she sees him. She knows. She's always known. This is just not a thing she can have. She is not His, not anymore. Not now. She will check his home often at first, and less often as time goes on. Checking for signs of a fresh scent or activity. Food or treats left out, so she knows he's thinking of her, even if he can't be there. But she knows these things too, will fade and...

I've been having a lot of issues with my anxiety lately, and some depression. The last one isn't common for me. Usually it's just anxiety. But depression has moved in, and it gets to drain the color out of my world. It saps me of my motion. Mires me in a bog of nothingness and I don't know where or how to find the energy to change it. The wounds are fresh and they bleed. I hate it. Even typing this causes me to snarl. It's true. I hate it, but I hate admitting it even more. I hate the way my anxiety locks me up. It isn't just flight or flight... There is a third option, freeze, which is what my anxiety does to me. That's an old battle. The scars are few now, but those that remain are long, and deep. New feelings come from inadequacy. The weasels start to run and shift through my brain like a water in a stream. They sneak into nooks and crannies and eat away the good, and there they stay. Eating. Moving. Writhing. Deeper and deeper. Working towards the...

I'm not a woo creature. I'm either woo-blind, or I don't hear in woo-frequency. Whatever it is, woo is never something that has registered to me. I do understand energy to some level, and the all important spoon theory, but, I've wanted to understand my interaction with energy and why some things impact me the way they do for a long time. I had a conversation with my roommate, recently that was very eye opening. I'd been fishing with Daddy over Independence Day weekend. I thought maybe we'd go out for a few hours and catch some fish and come home and spend there rest of the day doing each other. I was wrong. We were out from noon to past sunset. We made it back to my house around 10pm. I beat out Daddy, I would have kept staying until the light really went. I was having that much fun. How the fuck was my broken ass able to walk around the woods and river, be in the sun, and fish for NINE straight hours? I can't tell you the last time I did anything for ni...

Confession: I'm a furry. Sorry you had to find out this way. I'm not a weirdo furry , I'm an executive furry. I don't really tell people I'm a fur, because then the weird questions come up like "well I don't think you own a fursuit, and I don't think you have sex in it..." And both those things are true, I'm not a fursuiter type of furry and I've never had sex in a fursuit and I don't plan to (those things are stifling to be in). I've just always drawn furry art. Although if you ask I'll tell you I draw ~ ~Fantasy ~  art because it's a safer way to mention it, plus I draw dragons and shit so it counts. I've been like this for as long as I can remember. Back in my high school furry days, my fursona/personal character was a Pit Bull, her name was Arceninc (Arc for short) because I was Super Cool TM. . I still have her as a character, she's pretty great. I had her all of high school through college, when I change...

* (Note: This post is old, about a year old, but relevant in my life.) * This is hard to write. I get jealous. I shame myself about what gets me off. My name is Ren and the above two sentences are honest statements. I haven't posted a Winter Fire write up (this would have been Winter Fire 2017). I know. I'm slow. But I think, part of that, is because I need to get this out first. I needed to wrangle my feelings. I've done a lot of consensually fucked up stuff with people. My carefully crafted tower of kink cards began the slow descent to chaos a few years ago when I had a series of break ups in quick succession. I  had  lovely, supportive partners who communicated with me, and were open, and understanding. ... I thought. But I didn't have that. I thought I did, for a long time. That my relationships were good, and they were fulfilling. And they brought me joy. And those things are true, I was always given  just  enough to keep me craving more. Even today...

I just got done crying, because I got looped into an angry masturbation session, jacking it to things I shouldn't have been looking at [not a good bunch of erotica for me to read] anyway, and then needed to cum twice. I wanted to feel something other than the way I've been feeling for the past month. I should be asleep because I took the horse tranquilizer over an hour ago. It's hard. I've had "problems" for 4 weeks and I'm super fucking done with it. I can't imagine how people live like this. I'm a poor chronic pain candidate. Exceptionally poor. For those of you catching up: car accident, seatbelt failure, whiplash [pretty gnarly] and a much more severe concussion than first presented. I can generally deal with the body pain. As long as it's not whatever happened to me on a week ago. Where the pain was so bad both myself and my doctor feared I'd torn my rotator cuff entirely. I suddenly couldn't lift my right arm above my he...

The jaguar is an animal of great power and meaning to me, my guardian. That is why the jaguar is my Patronus. But when I close my eyes and look inside, there is a dog. The dog is the embodiment of who I am, what I am. It's always been that way. The dog is my loyalty, my joy, my fear, my submission. It ties into every aspect of my being, it's the way I make sense of my world. I've been wanting to write about submission and 'what it is' to me for a long time, but I've never been able to find the right words. With the dog analogy, it finally started to make sense. I have never seen myself as a slave. The biggest reason I don't identify as a slave is because at the end of the day, slaves are still human. I identify as property. What is property in the eye of the law? Animals... dogs. Dogs are property. The Owner/canine relationship really appeals to me in a way that is entirely separate from puppy play. My submission doesn't involve pretending to be a do...

So... Fusion. 2o16. Holy shitoley. Warning; this is quite a feels dump. I had exactly the camp I needed. I was so worried that it was going to be bad. And don't get me wrong... Wednesday and Thursday were sort of clusterfuckey for me. I wasn't sober much those two days because I was having trouble dealing with my own head. I had to come to terms with the depths of my own loneliness and actually accept it. For real, not just for pretend. It's been a really hard road. This was the first event I've been to as a single, functional person. I felt incredibly alone Wednesday and Thursday nights. I actually had pangs of it all throughout the event but some days were easier to deal with than others. I'm really impressed with myself for being able to form meaningful connections with new people and actually enjoy myself. I find it so incredibly difficult to trust people. I identify strongly with the Stray Dog. Once upon a time had a home and a warm bed with someone to ...

I'd like to be called Wren from now on. Wren, pronounced Ren. I know this seems like it's been coming out of nowhere, but in reality, I've been struggling with names for a long time. My old name, indey, just doesn't sit with me anymore. Hearing it sometimes hurts, and sometimes doesn't. And not knowing if it will fall wrong on my ears when someone I care about says it, is actually worse for me than knowing I don't like it. That is why I felt the need to change. The name indey has a lot of mental baggage associated with. Baggage that makes the name cumbersome and uncomfortable. I twinge when I hear it, even if you don't see me do it on the outside. Indey used to be my puppy name, short for Indiana. Where Kamm was from. It's a name that I decided to use as my scene name shortly after I got involved in the public community. There are a number of exes who call me by that name, when or if they still even talk to me. For a number of reasons, I just wa...

I know I haven't written in a long time. Longer than my typical winter hiatus. My usual break is caused by the usual work and holiday clusterfuck, no personal time, mandatory work over time. This break was partly caused by that, and mostly caused by something else; people being cowards. People not handling their own shit. Me not being able to speak for myself, or just not realizing fast enough. I thought something was wrong with me, for a long time. Maybe I was too queer, or too queer looking. Or too fat. Or not sexual enough. Or too sexual. Or a bad partner. Or ugly. Or my hair was too short.  Or my house wasn't nice enough..  Or especially, that the kind of play I'm into and the kinks I have aren't ok and I should feel bad for being into them. That was a really big one... I'm not saying these things because I need reassurance or support in not thinking them. I'm saying them because this is the part of relationships people don't talk about. I don't ...

I'm generally pretty good about dictating or negotiation my regular interactions with others. Sometimes I'm huggy, sometimes I'm not. Sometimes I prefer a handshake, sometimes I want a kiss. I communicate these needs if you're someone I routinely interact with related to them. Close friends I'm generally ok with being hugged by. I will let you know if this is not the case (like if I've got a busted rib or other injury). Or if I just don't want to be glomped when arriving at an event. I don't like to be touched intimately by people I don't know well. It's not you, it's just how I am.  I'm generally very ok with these interactions but there is one thing I need to speak up about because I say something about it over and over again. Spanking me is a hard limit. I don't like spanking. I can't process spanking. For the love of whatever god is your homeboy, DO NOT SPANK ME OUTSIDE OF A SCENE.  Don't spank me when I'm o...

So.. Winter Fire is coming up. I'm purposefully not planning much other than my classes and maybe one scene with someone who actually has stuff to do. But i'd like to play with others... maybe. I don't know. Mostly i'll be playing with people i've played with before. How do you pickup play? I feel like i'm trying to do calculus when all i've completed is trig. I must be missing something integral or else this wouldn't be so.. bad. I am terriblebad at pick up play. Horriblebad. I forget to communicate something important, i try to play when i don't feel a connection, i give people the benefit of the doubt. They can't read me, they don't know me, i can't explain it to them. Those are the reasons i've effectively stopped doing pickup play. I think part of my problem is that i'm a submissive. I don't top people, even really for demos (although i can). It isn't where my heart is. People either 1. don't see me play or ...

Warning: You're entering an area where verbal diarrhea is located. It's December 27th and i'm still alive. For the past two years, from November 30th through approximately December 20th i have been unable to focus. Work takes up almost all of my time (hell 22+ hours of overtime per pay period). I can't focus on any of my hobbies or friends. I've barely got time to feed the cats and clean the geckos. Their cages are all clean now, except for one food painter who needs hers cleaned again. Animals man, animals. Getting sick absolutely sucked and i'm glad im better. Flu is no bueno. I'll be getting a flu shot soon. Maybe today! Since i'm not sick anymore and you shouldn't get vaccinated for shits when you're sick. #Immunofails. This year has been weird. Starting around July with crazy panic attacks related to my parents and my coming out process to them. That has thankfully been an easier and better process than i could have hoped for. My paren...

My birthday is around Thanksgiving. I don't really like it, but it isn't something i've got any form of control over. V-day conception means a Thanksgivingish birthday. Quite a few people in my life and family suffer the same fate. But you know what is pretty cool? I get to see my family every year on or around my birthday because the turkey day is a big deal for them. This year, by dessert, we saw at least 55 people through the door. I don't really like turkey. But you know what? Every year my family also has ham for me and the other turkey naysayers (gobblesayers?). I chow down on that ham like the puppy i am. And really, who is going to forsake delicious ham in favor of turkey. Hammmmmmmmm. This is the first time i've seen both my parents in person since i came out to them about poly. And no one freaked out. They bold told me they loved me. The written message in my birthday card almost made me cry. The good tears i mean. Daddy is sleeping next to me, finally not...

So, i talked to my Dad for like 30 seconds because i was at the cell phone store and needed the account PIN so i called him. He seemed good. Whoot. I spoke to my Mom earlier this week to discuss Thanksgiving plans and she said he took it pretty well. He doesn't really have any questions and wasn't freaking out. He ALWAYS makes his feelings pretty well known so him being neutral is the best option i could have asked for. This is going pretty well.  More later?

It really is feast or famine for me with this isn't it. Sorry everyone, stepped out of the country for a week and that basically consumed most of my July and August. I'm back now, getting my life in order and readjusting to 'murica. Drinking the tap water, it is awesome. In September, i'm doing a lot of stuff. I'm teaching the following classes at the following events, so feel free to come see me :3 FetFest 2013  - Do It Like an Animal: Pet Play (9/1) Touch of Flavor  2013 - BDSM 101 (9/7-9/8) BDSM Essentials Discussion Group  - Expecting the Inevitable: What to do when a Scene Goes Wrong (9/14) I've had a ton of play this week that i'm debating what to write about... I'll get there when i get there. I do need to do some reflective writing. Hope all you lovely people out there in internet land are doing well.

Yesterday i came out (about non-monogamy) to one of my parents (my Mom, as she has always been the more supportive and rational parent, not to knock my Dad, but him and i are the same kind of stubborn, so when we butt heads it's like two donkeys sort of just kicking each other. One is just a little younger and smaller than the other one. It often takes my Mom to sort out things between us, though it's been years since she last had to play that role). This is a small entry, but i thought it was important to make. I am thinking about writing her an email, just to explain and clarify a few things (a lot of stuff in my life suddenly made a lot more sense to her). My catalyst for coming out was the stress i was putting on them. I love my parents. They do a lot for me. I never want to cause them stress or heartache. My secretiveness, lack of desire to open up and really bring them into my life was upsetting my Mother. This is apparently been a problem since i was kid. Not surprisin...