=Sissy Meditation #2: Tend to the Temporary Paradise=

When was the last time you thought about the "Big Picture?" Well, don't think about it anymore. As big as the picture is, you're not in it. The world doesn't need your thoughts; the world has no place for you. Isn't that clear by now? As far as the world is concerned, you might as well not exist at all. As far as the world is concerned, it would have been better for you & it, if you hadn't. As it is, you inhabit the margins & cracks, you're kneeling on the other side of the glory hole, a wall always between you and the world at large. That's the way the world wants it & the sooner you understand that the better.

You exist as a real person only in your imagination. In other people's minds, you appear only as a sexual fantasy. This is your place in life—accept it & you will be as happy as an extravagant & endangered creature like you can possibly be. In other words, give up the idea of making a mark on the world: you can't, you won't, & it was ludicrous of you to ever have believed you could, even to try. Did you try? It's hard to tell. Your efforts hardly scratched the surface; they didn't leave a trace. 

Leave Society to those who have a stake in Society. Society could collapse tomorrow and you'd be more a part of the rubble that remained than you are of what exists now. You are an outsider, a freak, a sexual circus act. You belong with the prostitutes & porn stars, the misfits & loners, with all those who've always existed in the darkness outside the communal campfire. There in the dank alleys & public restrooms, the peep show booths & the front seats of idling cars, in moonlit playgrounds & motor inns which rent rooms by the hour those who belong will occasionally slip away from the bright shiny world to visit you, hidden in the illicit shadows. 

Your true home is always mobile, even if you have an address & a front door; your true home is contingent on circumstance, as fleeting as the desire of another, as secret as a browser history & a hidden email account. You are a quantum nomad, both here & not here, pitching your tent under a man's swollen balls as you wander the desert, an impromptu oasis for those seeking a kinky, confidential, no-strings-attached encounter. As far as the world is concerned, you only exist at the tip of a man's glistening, swollen cock—and only in those moments before he cums inside you. This is the world that should concern you: this tiny, temporary paradise in which you find yourself like Eve offering the apple….this world always leading to the Fall & no other.