Hello, this morning I woke up and laughed because I had a memory, then realized it was not a real memory–it was a dream. Dream of shiva lingams.
Yes, this is my dream. I was downstairs in the north living room. I noticed two shiva lingams on the floor, by the fireplace. They were brown and large, but not too heavy. About as long as my hand.
One was smooth, and the other was rough. So I picked up the smooth one, and it felt good in my hand.
I was comforted by the shiva lingams. I thought–I am ok here. There are shiva lingams.
It’s funny, in the “sometimes a cigar is just a cigar” way. Shiva lingams represent Lord Shiva, and their counterpart is yoni. Shiva lingams are usually not discussed as such, but they’re symbolic dicks.
And dicks are definitely bothering me, in this new home I’m living in.
My spouse’s dick is beautiful joy and comfort. I am happy to touch, rub, lick, suck, envaginate. I love to go down on him, and tend this dick in a very kind way.
But we did it twice yesterday. The first time I went down on him, and we had a good time, but I did not come whatsoever. The second time, I wished it was My Turn. But my spouse was sleepy, lying on his back. The non-subtle erection was sticking up with its own “touch me!” energy.
I wanted attention to my cunt and was like–jeeze. Too much dick around here. I need some goddess cult, vulva-centric, inner, squishy love fun, stat!
I was crushing on the housemate I like to touch, the beautiful fucked up man who I presume has a dick also. I’ve never seen it.
The whole thing feels doomed. I realize over and over again how a cis man hasn’t loved me right in more than a decade. Possibly ever. Women and enbies love me right. Thank goodness someone can. It’s depressing, how I keep trying with unskilled dudes.
What makes him feel important, successful, part of the big deals of life? Not me. He enjoys the attention and care I bless him with. But he has his process, doing what matters to him. He doesn’t show up with what I’m asking for. I ask for a place–he prioritizes loud zooms with folks far away. So be it.
I have a rich life too and don’t need him. But I wanted him. My daddy issues and hormonal urges were part of that. And bad habits of seeing potential more than what’s actually there.
But I really don’t need more dicks in my life. Honestly, my spouse’s dick is more than enough.
big dick energy
My spouse and I were talking about our housemates at this housing co-op that’s still new to us. I mentioned how Desire is so pretty, I can’t even look at them. Giggling, I demonstrated to my spouse how I need to shade my eyes. Like looking at the sun. My spouse agreed.
I was introducing Desire to a visitor to the house, and I forgot their name. Wow, embarrassing. But the problem I could have explained–I actually think of you as a golden being of light, with infinite shining energy to the point of blinding people. Doesn’t seem possible to put a name to that.
Last week I glimpsed through the window–my spouse and Desire outside working on a project. Desire leapt onto a structure and did several chinups in quick succession. I was like–oh my god.
In private I told my spouse, “That’s a lot of big dick energy, for a nonbinary person.” I love how there are so many ways to be enby, and I respect them all.
Probably some other dicks around in this house, but they are not of concern to me now.
I keep a shiva lingam by my bed, one third the size of the dream shiva lingams. I like to hold and cuddle it. I’m comforted by the brown and light brown stone. Sometimes I hold it while I’m falling asleep, like a teddy rock.
Shiva is easily pleased, powerfully amazing, and famous for being nonbinary, come to think of it.
I cannot tell a lie: I’ve rubbed the shiva lingam on my vulva while masturbating. It actually didn’t help. I thought something sacred might enhance my getting off. The smoothness is nice, but my fingers are lively and work better.