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“When we love, we always strive to become better than we are.” -The Alchemist

I’ve always believed the best type of songs are written for one person, and the best performance is a conversation with one person. Even if the one person is not in the audience, or the song was originally written for someone else, I can’t help but imagine one person as I am singing. I drop to my knees on stage, I break into tears; I succumb to the music completely. Normally I cannot dance but on stage, the music moves me and my hips press against the keyboard, my body becomes fluid. I am always singing to one person in my mind, even if he is fictional.

When I want someone with all my heart, I become a vessel through which stories and songs emerge. I do this anyway, as a lifestyle, but when I’m turned on, in love, truly moved by another person, I don’t even need food anymore. All I can eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner is my desire, my longing, the inspiration he gives me with his beauty, his mind, his words, his spirit. My art and writing and music has potential to send him a message; it is communication, and I imagine him reading it, hearing it, seeing it, knowing me. If it’s a new piece, the song is a conversation with him; it’s made of his essence; he is breathing into my keys, through my hands, singing through my voice. He is more than a goal or a chase; he is a force in the universe that I have locked in with. The trees have a pulse and the grass has veins. The clouds are made of diamonds that tumble around each other like lovers wrapping their limbs together. The wind has a taste and my feet have wings. Everything is alive. I cannot help but sing, write, create. Art and music is the same as breathing. There aren’t enough hours in a day to breathe in the smell of nature, pour out the musics and arts and words that run through my veins, dream of his touch and explore his mind. I’m changing, I’m growing, I’m expanding. At the same time I’m boiling down to one simple truth. 



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I love sex and I want it real. Since sex is communication between two people, I don’t go in with expectations. I let the dynamic develop on its own. I yearn to devour every corner of my lover’s mind, heart, and body, and for him to devour mine, until there is nothing left of us but sweat, nails, and thrusts, and we don’t know who is who anymore. The specific style can vary, depending on the dynamic between us.

During sex, I explore the dreams of my lover. I derive immense pleasure from sharing his fantasies, becoming part of them, taking them on as my own. I hunger to immerse myself in his deepest yearnings, and discover the most human, naked parts of his psyche as they play out in the bedroom. At best, I would be a vessel through which his passions emerge.

As for my own fantasies, I want no toys, BDSM rules, or roles. I yearn to fight for dominance, but be overpowered by raw strength; to succumb to the force of lust, limbs, and bare limbs. When I am completely overpowered, I feel truly vulnerable.. and there is nothing more invigorating.

I yearn to lose control, to forget all notions of power, to unravel myself in the throes of catharsis. But in order to do so, I need to know my lover is fully present, and would protect me at all costs. If he is half-hearted, I cannot trust him enough to lose myself entirely. At least a small part of me would remain on guard.