Convos

No Reassurance (An Essay)

Him: “I know you’ll never give me reassurance.”

And why would I ever need to?

What IS speaks for itself.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

He spoke of wanting something more solid.

Saying he knows he can’t ask or expect that of me.

And yet…

I’m as solid as can be (energetically).

He can always count on ME.

But his human wanted something concrete.

In the physical world of make-believe.

Where nothing is solid.

Where security can’t be found.

Not in a thing.

Not in another.

Just in the space one cannot claim.

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Walkie Talkie (An Essay)

“You’re the only person I know who walks their talk. Completely.”

The loveliest thing to hear.

And the result of doing the work.

Not just sometimes.

All the time.

With everything and everyone.

I’m relentless when it comes to my game and those I choose to play with.

No one gets a free pass.

Exceptions aren’t made.

Least of all for those I’m closest to.

Because doing the work and living in truth is the most loving thing I can do.

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His Moves Are Not My Business (An Essay)

Months ago while telling a friend about a moment with the fella that I was a HELL NAW to, she asked if I help a guy to shift the things that I’m not into, or if I just end things because of it.

My response:

I only do what the moment requires of me.

Whatever that may be.

Me making my true move does exactly what needs to be done.

Across the board.

With everyone.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

I dropped deal breakers / boundaries / standards long ago.

They aren’t necessary.

And no, I don’t ‘help’ the fella shift his shit because that, too, is unnecessary.

He’s grown.

And his moves are not my business.

He can be however he wants to be.

I’ll make my moves accordingly.

(Peep this Mandy Bite)

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When You Refuse To Go Blind (An Essay)

“But I don’t have the money.”

Who said money is even required?

If it’s for you, meaning that desire is sourced from the absolute truth of YOU, it’s not dependent on you having the money right now.

You’re never limited to your own bank account or bound by the laws in the physical.

You absolutely CAN birth that desire from the ethers regardless of your current circumstance.

You have access to ALL possibilities.

Beyond what you can even imagine.

But your devotion to the physical, to what can be seen and measured in this moment, kills the magic on contact and reduces your options to none.

You believe that what you see is all there is, and that’s where you go wrong.

So you don’t even make your true move.

The exact move you’re being told to do that will actually dissolve the exact thing you misperceive is real.

The move that will open the floodgates to the MORE your being is pulling you towards RIGHT NOW.

The more you claim you want but aren’t even willing to step into.

Because you listen to the mind.

Because you refuse to go blind.

Because you operate within the illusion of time.

“I don’t have enough.”

“I can’t see how.”

“It must not be for me right now.”

While your whole being is screaming GO.

But since you have no money and you have no proof, you’re like NAH, BRUH.

I’ll stay right here.

In the place I’ve always been.

And that’s why you don’t get the thing, my friend.

You’ve ignored yourself once again.

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The Whole Thing Is Like A Movie (An Essay)

“The whole thing is like a movie.”

Him, last night, after our last few hours together before he leaves for a month.

When I tell him or others that he’s my favourite human, it’s because he is the purest.

Meaning, he has less shit in the way than anyone I’ve ever played with romantically.

Every being is pure, of course.

But most humans are drenched in matter.

Drowning in the abyss.

Overflowing with insanity.

Hard to reach from where it counts.

But not him.

Our experience is so light.

So empty.

Full of space and filled with life.

And the lived experience of that is a deep sense of calm and peace - one’s natural state.

Which creates an effortless, seamless, extraordinary dance.

A dream within a glorious dream.

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Truth Being Played Out (An Essay)

While talking with the fellow about our recent ‘disconnect’ (which is not how I experience it; it’s just truth being played out moment to moment):

Me: “You felt like I left?”

Him: “I never felt like I had you in the first place. You’re a mystery to me.”

Me: “Well, no one’s ever ‘had’ me. But you’ve had more of me than most.”

(Peep the Poem)

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It Needed To Be Broken (An Essay)

Kristen: “Will it break him if you don’t see him again?”

Me: “I don’t care. I don’t think of it. I just go scene to scene.”

I know how my detachment appears.

But attachment isn’t natural to the being.

It’s lodged in a story of some sort.

Meaning.

Matter.

Past.

Another.

It’s not that I don’t care about other people or what they go through.

It’s that I don’t care how their human is affected by me being Mandy.

I don’t take another into account when I make my moves.

Why would someone else have anything to do with what I know I must do?

Shall I factor in everyone I know and the world at large while I’m at it?

Give me a fucking break.

If something breaks, then good.

It clearly needed to be broken.

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He Moves With Me Seamlessly (An Essay)

He reminds me of a Leonard Cohen quote.

“You go your way. I’ll go your way, too.”

He moves with me seamlessly.

Effortlessly.

With nothing in between.

A dance so quiet, so tender, so natural, so close.

So light.

So pure.

So empty.

So free.

Little is spoken.

Yet everything is said.

“Mine.”

“Yours.”

Here we are.

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The Sobering Void (An Essay)

When I shared this Mandy Bite on Facebook:

“The more you see through, the less interest you have in what you see.”

A hottie commented on said post.

“And then what? I feel this in my soul.”

And then…

You let there be nothing of interest to you.

The more you’ve yet to touch will come directly from that.

The more you’ll never touch if you’re scared back to what’s not true.

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Sex vs SEX (An Essay)

in the middle of the night

he and i had a lovely conversation about sex

and not surprisingly

based on how we met and how things are unfolding

we share a similar view on play

sex (penetration) for the sake of sex

hits no true spot

but the experience of SEX

that has no beginning, no middle, no end

that may or may not include penetration

that may or may not include touch or a release

that is not marked separate from a ‘non-sex’ event

(because it’s alllll SEX, baby)

that is where the magic is

that is what arouses more than a particular position or body type

than a pre-determined set of preferences

than a vibe of ‘this worked on her last time so i’ll just do that again’

because SEX is a dance in the NOW

(Peep the Mandy Bite)

so you can’t bring a (past) thing with you

nor can you aim for something else

you must make each move from exactly where you are

without leaving where it’s fresh and alive and new

without ever leaving YOU

because true SEX is beyond the physical

the body is just the vessel through which you play

endlessly

truthfully

fluidly

to more

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Ride and Die (An Essay)

“What a fucking RIDE. Playing with you is unlike anything out there. Potent. Immediate. Not for the faint of heart.”

Last night’s treat in my inbox.

My spot always gets hit when I’m playing with a fellow rider.

Because fellow riders are the only ones who viscerally get what I’m throwin’ down.

I am of no use to those who want safety, time, solutions, support.

Those who are still looking to me or to others for more content to consume.

For something or someone else to attach to, to believe in, to become a superfan of.

My types are the ones who simply want to play with what’s alive right now, regardless of what does or doesn’t happen.

When you’re ready for THAT thrill,

let’s ride.

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