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...

* Note: This post is actually about 7 months old *  I've looked everywhere. In my drawers, under the bed, in the closet. In my car. My backpack. It's no where to be found, my extra love. Sure I love people in my life, a lot of them. I'm blessed enough to have found a group of amazing, incredible, resilient, supportive people. But... I'm not polyamorous. I've tried, I've had good poly relationships, I've been in them, dated poly people, I've taught classes, etc. But right now in my current place in life, that is not for me. That's not a slight against poly people in my life, I will always admire you and how you handle things, but for me, for now, I think I want mostly monogamy. Certainly emotionally, probably physically. I'm still hammering that one out. How that ends up will be after a long discussion with Silver. We currently, intentionally, don't have labels on what we're doing, which leaves me a free agent to do as I wish. If ...

* (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...