Category Archives: Essay

Classic games PC games, why I want to play them!

So, as I’m a gamer on Steam with my computer,  I have an odd assortment of games that if you looked at my owned list you’d realize that I’m unique in what I like and what I play. I have everything from the Half-Life to Weird World – Return to Infinite Space. I have new games, and now I’m collecting older games like NAM which is a Build engine Vietnam war game that plays like a half assed version of Duke and Doom in a somewhat well done manner. I also have collected game like Legacy of Kain Soul Reaver series to all most all the Star Wars games on Steam.

Who else is gonna bring you a broken Reaver? Who else is going to suck your soul?

But I keep going to the odd games, the older games and marveling at them. I’ve done this before, but not on the level that I am no. I picked up the Descent series off of GOG.com recently and I can honestly say that they might be old, they’re so new and fresh to me that I can’t believe that they existed over fifteen years ago. The exploration and degree of movement doesn’t exist in many games now, and the level design is great to boot.

So, as I dig these older games I play newer ones and the good ones I keep on my hard drive and play, but its the older games or the games that are similar to older ones that I keep playing. I don’t have a burning urge to learn everything about these games but I want to play them and experience them so at least someone out there knows about them. Yes, people have and will play them in the future, but I want to share them with you, through lets plays on Youtube and maybe some Twitch streaming here and there.  Cockpit view!

But my question for you readers is this: Can you share or help me get the games that I really want to dig into and explore? I’m a broke gamer but I’m more than willing to broker deals to through trading games and offering my writing services to people in exchange for titles and what not.  Pew Pew Pew!

So, I think I’m going to do a lets play from the get go of Descent, Eradicator, and maybe some other random titles that are easy on the eyes to follow along with my dialogue and comments. So, do you have any suggestions dear readers of what I should talk about or play?

Warrior

For the longest time I said that I was a soldier. I’ve been wrong this whole time. Not out of disrespect for military members, but in the definition. Soldiers take orders, soldiers do what they are told. I don’t. I do what I do based upon my thoughts and feelings. I base them on my emotions, not my orders. Yes, there is a line of command in my life, but we like to see ourselves as equals, not an underling and commander. Well, outside of some situations 😉

But the definition of warrior is this: (especially in former times) a brave or experienced soldier or fighter.

Maybe even warrior doesn’t fit. But I’ve been wrong either way because while I do take orders off and on I mostly make my own choices, my own decisions based on my life, my experiences. I’ve not always made the right choices, but I live with them. I carry upon my shoulders a world of guilt and pain that I feel that I’ll never make up for.

When people catch me off guard and call me a good person, a hero even, I don’t believe them. Heroes are born, heroes are made. I on the other hand have been forged. Forged in fires that I will never be able to put out, that will always sear me under the skin till the day that I die if even then. We spend so much of our lives struggling to find out who or what the hell we are and most of the time we never do figure any shit out.

While it sucks and makes us ponder great many things that maybe we should have figured out before the last death rattle, it is what it is. We stand, we fall. But I stand tall. I am a warrior of the ilk that comes from the frozen wastelands of Eastern Europe and the dry and parched land of India. I am a mix of many things but warrior I am. I fight every day against the things that I can’t win against but I do it because I have to. The mountain in front of me might be immovable but I am not, I can crawl over it on hands and knees if necessary. I have, and I will.

As a warrior I also have to face my fears, and part of that is understanding that I’m not going to be able to defend against anything and everything that comes our way, my way. I’m doing a bit better at it now, but its still difficult to give up and let life flow through the valleys and mountains.

We stand upon rocks and cling to treetops to see the encroaching enemies that come to our gates, our villages in the dark. We stand and we fight, we are brave in the eyes of the oppressors. But warriors get tired too. We fall in battle and we feel lost. We feel the world upon our shoulders. I know I do, every day I feel the world resting there, like the yuke of the past and future pressing down on me. But I push on, through the fields of gold, the valleys of frozen rivers. We press onward ever exhausted unable to make amends for previous wrongs, or at least I do. Because its all I’ve ever known. All I’ve ever known is pressing on, a brave in the eyes of my family but never myself.

See, I don’t really see what I do, what I’ve done. I press on, weapon in hand to fight. Swinging and fighting, chopping and slicing I press through what ever I face. But this warrior is tired. He needs someone else to take the mantle from him for just a little bit. Not forever, just long enough to catch his breath. To become whole again, in the eyes of his gods, in his eyes. See, perception is everything to me. How I’m perceived, how I perceive others. Sometimes I’m wrong and other times I’m just misunderstood because I am unclear. I am unclear to myself most of the time until I’m sleeping and things have hit me like a war hammer in the face of everything.

In those moments of clarity rests the biggest issues I have. I have solutions to my problems but I don’t have the means of completing them. Because this warrior is tired. I’m exhausted all my possible trump cards, all my favors have been called in. Its me or nothing that will get it done, but when you have things and people telling you its not possible no matter how possible it is, you end up thinking its not. The way humans are wired is a funny thing, sometimes things like that push you just that much harder to do it. Other times it collapses the house of cards you’ve built to try and make a difference for you, for loved ones. I don’t have a family but the one I’ve made, the one I’ve built. So many people have come and gone, so many people have left me. Sometimes, a lot of the time actually, its all my fucking fault… Other times it isn’t as clear as that, both parties are to blame. Looking back you see the mistakes you’ve made, the things others  have done or didn’t do… and thats what stings the most.

Looking back, warriors can see what the fuck they did wrong, how they got sliced or cut deeper than they intended. In the perfect world we are supposed to learn from that, but when you’ve been running on adrenaline and fear for so many years you lose that edge, that ability. And I’ve been running on adrenaline and fear for too long. This warrior is tired. I’m ready for a big sleep, but not the big one. Not yet at least, I have a few more decades in me I think.

But gods damned I’m tired. So tired. Wake up exhausted and press forward, my warrior juice of caffeine and nicotine. Chemicals that drive me on, not… Me. I don’t have that drive to push forward anymore on my own. I need a hand up from the blood slicked battlefield. I need someone to reach down into the pile of bodies I’m being crushed by to pull me out. I thought I could do it all on my own. I can’t. I just can’t anymore. Its been this way for a long time. So long, so many battles I feel like I’ve fought on my own… Because I have. The battles you’ve never seen behind my eyes and my soul.

Because I’m a warrior, a brave, a fighter. Never a mercenary, never an assassin. I stand tall and strong, even when the killing blow has been struck, even when the pain is too much. I stand tall. I swing my sword, bash my shield upon the faces of the enemies at the gate. I draw my arrow and it flies true as the final breath escapes my lips. Because I have to. Because if I don’t, who will?

But gods damn if I ain’t tired. Gods damned if I don’t feel smaller and weaker every day. Maybe its just a phase, maybe its just a moment of weakness before I get a second wind. I don’t know. But I carry on. I carry onward and upward, scrabbling over the rocks and brush of the mountain. I swim the oceans between us and our enemies bobbing and weaving through the currents as a fish. Because I’m the only one who can. Because I’m the one who has to.

So when I feel tired enough, I’ll sleep. I’ll sleep a long sleep and hopefully have someone to watch over me to keep the enemies away, the demons at bay.

Done with D/S, maybe for good.

I’m done with D/S with my wife, my Domme. I don’t know if it’s for ever or if its temporary.

It’s my choice, not hers. I’m still deeply in love with her, its just that she doesn’t know how to Domme me. I’m not even going to try and explain it. Nor am I on the look out for replacement. I’m done with D/S.

I needed Domme’d more often than she realized, could do for me. Its not even an angry time. Just a soft, introspective time.

I’m also done trying to find my man, my hero. I’m just done. I’ll stand by my wife in her endeavors if it hasn’t collapsed.

Right now I’m not even upset. Just making a really strange and supposedly difficult life choice. Yet for me, its simple. I’m not finding what I need, what I’m looking for. So I’m going to stop looking. Stop trying to achieve what is improbable right now

Bi sexual and how I’m doing

So, I’m bi and I’m in the process of trying to figure out how to find what I need within my bisexual needs. I have my wonderful wife, but I need a man. But good god my situation is so unique and difficult that even finding someone able to understand it… Nearly impossible.

Yes, I’m married. Yes she knows about me being bi and needing a male counterpart. Yes, I’m happy with her. No, I don’t want to just bang out. I want a full on relationship with her and a man in my life.

But I live in a very conservative area and I don’t have any way of locally looking for what I need, not easily. But as I have gone on OkCupid and a few other sites and apps, its becoming apparent that even just finding a man who can accept what I need with what I have is difficult. I have been thinking lately of trying to find a poly dating site that isn’t a paywall hell, but allows me to branch out. At this point of my introspective spot that I’m in, I realize that I am such a unique creature that its like looking for a unicorn in a herd of zebras. Its there somewhere, but to see it between all the stripes and running around is difficult. Not to mention the dust storm kicked up from the running and stampeding.

So I shall take a step back, allow the universe to work for me, instead of me working against it. I have only been on the sites for about a month and I’ve shot gunned many people with messages and have made at least one lasting connection as friend. I’m grateful for her to listen and talk because we teach each other. I’m a bit dense and off kilter at times but overall I’m ok.

That is the thing that I have to understand, Im Ok. I’m not failing in my marriage and looking for love elsewhere, but growing and needing. So I need to change and alter my perceptions a bit. And maybe the first step is to take a few back so I can see what the universe brings to me. I’ve done it for awhile now, and although nothing has come to me, I feel as if its close to coming. I’ve been the one to reach out and talk and message, instead of waiting. 

You see, some may say I don’t even know what I want or need. Some would say I’m not ready if some things keep happening. But after you’ve been awakened to you and what you need its hard to step back. See, for years I just thought I was hetero with a bit of kinky. But as I look forward and backwards I see that I was bi all along and just didn’t accept it. I could have if my religious upbringing wasn’t so enforced into me. It could have been a thousand times easier. But it wasn’t. So here I am now. 

But one of the biggest difficulties in our world is that we men cannot talk frankly or openly about our emotional and or sexual needs with other men. Its frowned upon in many circles if your bisexual and its wrong. But you know what? Its not wrong. Its not wrong that your hetero or homosexual. It is what it is. Bisexuality is the ability to love more than one and to not be tied down to normal sexual identities in many cases. When one speaks of bisexuality or fluid or many other terms, its not the devil speaking. Its that person speaking. Of who they are and what they need or want. 

Being bisexual is strange and difficult and many other things at once. 

Its like your pulse quickens and that thread of tension appears randomly when you’re not expecting it to hit you. Yeah, I’ve had my ups and downs with being bi, and how that changes me and everything I know. But at the same time it feels right.

It is me at my purest form as I am. I need that duality and balance because this time around its what I am here to learn, to experience. The last time I was here, I wasn’t for long and couldn’t be me then, so yeah, I am going to be me now. I’m also going to search for what I need, not just what I want, but truly need to be happy. I have two halves of the equation already (wife and kids), and now its just a matter of finding a guy too.

Story ideas, or how I create.

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Sometimes I have ideas pop into my head that are born from the ether, sometimes its photos. The stories that pop into my mind are random, violent, sexy, or even slow burns. I have ideas that I’ll never flesh out, some I will.

Other times, I listen to podcasts and they formulate stories for me. I was listening to The Paracast and JC Johnson talking about his recent cases in the American South West. And I was thinking of another story Id written ages ago.

And now I have an idea for a story. Probably not a novel, but its something. The more I write, the more I realize that I love the short story or novelette idea. I can get my idea out, and there is a new market for them in ebooks and anthologies. Because print books are slowly dying, short stories are making a come back.

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And I like the idea that they are. It is an artform that has lost meaning and practice in America. With our faster paced society, we have less time and short stories are great for that. It fufills the want to read, and it usually doesn’t take much time.

So, back to creation. I think most of my ideas are born from outside of me. The other worlds I’ve seen and experienced. Not fan-fiction, but taking archetypes and finding a twist and making it my own. We are all influenced by the media we ingest and enjoy. Games or books, television shows or movies, all inspire us.

You will never see me writing hack shit. Never. Maybe some bad writing here and there, but never hack.

The other place my ideas come from is me. Emotional states, memories, and things I’ve seen all spur me on to write. Some fiction, some non-fiction.

But at the end of the day? Ideas come from the strangest places.

And I like that.

The struggle

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The struggle I face is multifacited. Its my bisexuality and bondage attraction. Its my everyday life. Its many things. Its my acceptance of being bi and loving what I call Intimate Bondage. Its the struggle with money, time, and family. Its everything that stresses me out, either momentarily or constantly.

But underneath it all, I’ll be ok. And I don’t need domme’d to know this. I think people are noticing me and my writings again. I know that my photography and writings will get me somewhere. My family is safe and warm. I have a job.

But its the struggle to maintain a balance that bothers me. Because I need duality, balance, and chaos all at the same time. Its strange to know I find peace in the blindfold squeezing around my head, and the quiet inner calm that fills me.

I’m dead serious when I say that being blindfolded, bound, and domme’d breaks me free from my struggle with the everyday. See, people are actually all sheeple. We all conform to a set of laws and regulations everywhere.

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Or we press against the wall afraid of an emu.

Publicly we obey the government and laws governing us. We follow the traffic laws, and laws about violent behavior. We wait impatiently in the pharmacy line without slitting the person giving everyone a detailed description of their sex life.

Privately we follow the rules and regulations of relationships. Between friendships, marriages, and other interactions we conform. Some people you can’t talk about cars or UFOs. Some people you can’t fart around.

We all conform into little boxes of neatness to present ourselves right.

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Even if its just wearing a shitty meme shirt.

And while we all know this, we need reminded of it. Because of people like me, and maybe you, we make the world. We make it revolve and change. The normal people, the ones who lost, do too. While they plug away at their shitty job and shitty life we carry on.

We bring the struggle to the front. We dye our hair crazy colors. We peirce our nipples or get tattoos. We stick out. On purpose.

Because we all have something to share. It might be limited like my interests, but I have things to say. Maybe they’ll be heard, maybe not. But I’m gonna say them. Because they need said.

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Sometimes we all need to let go.

A year or so ago, I thought about making my own church, “Todds church of not an asshole”.
And I realized that while people might listen, they wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t understand that I was talking about them. So, I moved on from that brain fart.

But while my religious views are different, the principles are the same. Do as little harm as you travel through life. Its that simple.

But simplicity in a struggle, especially internal is never simple. Because I have to take the time and balance things internally so the external me can function. Because I was raised religious I rebel against myself and who I am. I accept my faults and blessings. But the struggle to maintain paradigm is difficult. And by expressing my bi wants/needs and my D/S/Bondage needs I am doing it.

I am balancing the struggles.

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Hoky hell Robin! All thats missing is Kirk!

But Id love it if I could get some feedback on my posts. I have little to no self esteem. I have no faith most of the time in me.

So, I leave you all with this thought: how do you fight the struggle? The daily and the extraordinary ones?

Rope bites (NSFW)

I want to feel the rope bites on my skin. I want to feel the indentations of the nylon rope left on my flesh. The muscles relaxing from the arching and struggling against them.

I want to be tied up and toyed with by my wife and a man. And this is perfectly normal. My needs are rational and good for me.

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The bindings are a release. They take the pain and frustrations away. They let me feel good about myself. In my every day life I feel frustrated, angry, hurt. I feel like no one understands me outside of a handful of people. The world doesn’t understand my interests inside and out of the bedroom. We live in a conservative state, with crazy people that think god is the only thing that’ll save us.

And as I move through this life and world I inhabit, my mind is filled with thoughts of gaming, aliens, pagan thoughts. My mind floats to my bisexuality and needs. It floats towards topics I can’t speak of out loud.

And I’m ok with this. I’m a bi male who is a switch. I’ve only ever been with my wife, but god damn do I think about domming some guys. Maybe being dominated by a few too.

But I want the rope bites. I want to feel the fabric pull against my flesh. To free me. To free my heart. And unless you know anything about D/S and bondage this is alien to you.

Welcome to my world. I feel like an alien in yours. You don’t think like I do, what I do.

And that’s normal too. See, deep down between the bisexuality and switching if I get a chance… I feel embarassed and self concious about me. I feel like I have nothing to be ashamed of yet, feel shame. I feel normal in my needs and wants of both sexes. For my needs are normal. For me. But society has filtered our perceptions of right and wrong. We all know those filters, and how they exist. But I struggle with them, daily. And I know in my heart of hearts I have nothing to be ashamed of. But the needs feel too alien, for my upbringing. Yet they are so simple.

I need my wife, my domme. I need a man to dom. It comes down to duality. I crave duality more than anything, for it balances me. And in my public mask, I act normal and like the rest of you. Behind that mask is me. We all wear masks. We all hide ourselves from the world and ourselves.

And that is normal too. See, sex is normal. It’s nature. And while animals don’t put emotional, moral, and social values on sexuality… Humans do. Its the backbone of our society and its workings. And while sex is a backbone of our culture, love is an enigma.

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Love exists. Many people base their adult lives around it. Some are “vanilla” in the expression of their love. Others like me express it differently. And as I love my wife I need things that thankfully she’s ok with. But love exists and is different. Mine involves rope bites, blindfolds, and bisexual thoughts.

The rope bites into the flesh as I struggle physically and feel my Heart soar free.