ABOUT ZUKY

my words are forever written for my love
who is my love? i have had many. to love is endless for me

cordless boundaries
moving round hips
with a soft pelvic thrust.
gyrating down
towards vain mouth
of intoxicated lust.

unassumingly
you open wide
as i slither in.
jowls clamped upon pink flesh
humming
like a stringed violin.

flickering tongue
saturates
small delectable cherry.
erratic moans
his techniques
are far from ordinary.

zuky copy

MY BLOG

My blog “House of Zuky” is a place for me to express my LOVE affairs and the salacious obsessions who knock on my door, openly. With a sense of giving anonymity of discretion for the ones who I am expressing on my diary pages. It seems I have been a gypsy with traveling fingers to find the perfect lover. One who will respect my flesh of faith and skin of sensuality with the highest regard on the outside, yet tear me apart on the inside with a momentous understanding of what I desire sexually. WARNING: This account is not a host for pick-up-artists. This blog is for my self indulgence to express what I need/desire/hunger/want to express with my writing skills. So, I may talk about skin and flesh and sex and moisture and liquid and tongues and lips and fornication.. but I am not looking for it to be propositioned.

Most people do not comprehend it. Just don’t get that the fiery fantasy of thought is so deeply dark and rigid, where we rarely act on the occasion, missing out with the decadent indulgence of living your erotic dreams. Women especially find it difficult to express their desires. Fantasy can range from the simple act of having mental erroneous illusions that pacify the subtleties of an affair, or go towards the vibrations of creating illusory to the extreme of being decadently raped. Where it is a controlled mind play with a triangle of submissive mental imagery to satisfy the ego of sexual semblance.

Of course they go through the act of copulation after flirtation, but still have a high ration percentage of faking orgasms or the ultimate climax. Or even fully fantasizing what she wants without hiding behind her judgment of it all. Many women are two-faced. One, because we innately hide behind the makeup of it all; the strained every-day ritual of getting ready before we are even showcased to the public eye. And secondly, we fake orgasm and are rigid in bed. Not all women, of course.. but a great majority of women say one thing, yet think something else. In a state of flux in their own minds. Second guessing who they really are. Sadly, most women hide who they are with cosmetics, hair extensions, lipstick, fingernail tips, breast augmentations, faux spray tans, lash extensions, high heels and fishnets.. the list is endless. Once you strip a woman of the external beauty or even give her a mastectomy and cut away the natural flesh that was once hers.. she crumbles into an ego that does not know how to “identify” herself.

SEX HEALS

In my lifetime, love does heal. But it seems love only lasts so long. Even when you may tell a person that “you love them”. The beauty of this embellished statement may resonate for a few minutes with the highest of vibrational respect. But then the positive energy of affection dissipates and begins to morph into the “what we do not have”.. or “what can I get from you, to make me feel better about myself” kind of mentality. However.. sex.. heals all and so does masturbation and the fantasy that flows with it. For me personally, the manifestation of illusion is the first of all pleasures. Then energy of masturbation follows to heal and alter the body into a heavy level of dopamine.

A brief fact: The brain uses neurotransmitters to transmit messages across its hundreds of billions of networks that connect the brain’s nerve cells, or neurons. Neurotransmitters are not all of one quality or action; the most well known of them are serotonin and dopamine. (1) Serotonin is a chemical which lets less information into your central nervous system, (2) dopamine is a chemical that lets more information into your system. Serotonin is a soothing, relaxing chemical, dopamine acts as a reward when anything new comes along, nature’s treat for learning something new. They function like a seesaw, when the level of one go up the levels of the other go down. Different types of psychological illnesses are associated with different levels of these two chemicals; depression is often seen with low levels of serotonin, schizophrenia can be associated with extremely high levels of dopamine. Treatments developed for these illnesses are aimed at changing the levels of these neurotransmitters reducing symptoms.

Basically, SEX heals all wounds and so does my skill of writing about it. As I was instructed from my master liaison, Willow.. she states that when ever I get into a frenzied state of reality.. to stop everything and begin to masturbate. Releasing all anxiety and stress in my nervous system. Hence, the object of my creations with all of my obsession that I have written about and will eventually expose on my WordPress blog, House of Zuky.

DAMAGE

One of my favorite movies as I recall was the movie Damage with Jeremy Irons and the obsession with his character played by Juliette Binoche. There was this infamous line at the end of the movie which has stayed with me forever, and I would like to share it with my readers. “It takes a remarkably short time to withdraw from the world. I traveled until I arrived at a life of my own. What really makes us is beyond grasping. It is way beyond knowing. We give in to love because it gives us some sense of what is unknowable. Nothing else matters. Not at the end.” Louis Malle’s film “Damage” is a dark and magnetic meditation on love and obsession. How desire leaves us powerless. How love can destroy. The following video is the final scene.

When I first saw this film I thought about it for days. I went and got the book it was based on (Damage by Josephine Hart) and read it in one marathon session. Propped up on my bed, unwilling to detach. Like the film, the dialogue is spare and not frivolous. No word is wasted. This focuses the emotional force of each expression. Ideas and feelings are suggested in the spaces between lines and between moments. In the film, the characters convey a complex melange of feeling with each look they share. By observing the characters on screen we get some sense of the emotional intensity between them. At turns stricken or overcome. Restrained or unbound. And in our turn it resonates with the force of our own bodily memory. As people who have felt something powerful and intoxicating. Love is not a trifling thing. It creates and destroys. In the words of Kierkegaard, “Love is all, it gives all, and it takes all.”

Very few films seem equipped to show us the dual aspects of love. To love means ceding control of your life to something other than yourself. The last few lines of the final scene are ambiguous. And this ambiguity is what leaves you thinking. “I saw her once more only. I saw her by accident at an airport changing planes. She didn’t see me. She was with Peter. She was holding a child. She was no different from anyone else.” She was no different than anyone else. That is a compelling statement. There are multiple interpretations for what he means. While under its spell does the object of love take on significance that is unrelated to reality? Do we somehow transform our own reality through desire so that individuals become intensely meaningful to us in a way that is beyond reason? What separates the man or woman we desire from any other in the world? Perhaps only the focus of our desire. Once desire has withered or become focused elsewhere we see them as what they were the whole time: another person. But, desire transforms a mere person into an object of religious devotion.

Another way to interpret that line is as a realization of the momentary nature of desire. Romantic love breaks out like a wildfire and enraptures each person. But, if the passion between two people is destroyed, no trace remains other than the memory of feeling. What do we find when we discover that things we once felt are no longer true? How do we reconcile the intensity of the dead past with the deadness of the living present?

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