I let my iPod run wild tonight, as I often do, and this classic 1978 Gold record by Waylon Jennings came up.  Having passed through my head so often in the last 34 years, I was surprised how true it rang tonight.

I’ve always been crazy and the trouble that it’s put me through

Been busted for things that I did, and I didn’t do
I can’t say I’m proud of all of the things that I’ve done
But I can say I’ve never intentionally hurt anyone

I’ve always been different with one foot over the line
Winding up somewhere one step ahead or behind
It ain’t been so easy but I guess I shouldn’t complain
I’ve always been crazy but it’s kept me from going insane

Beautiful lady are you sure that you understand
The chances your taking loving a free living man
Are you really sure you really want what you see
Be careful of something that’s just what you want it to be

I’ve always been crazy but it’s kept me from going insane
Nobody knows if it’s something to bless or to blame
So far I ain’t found a rhyme or a reason to change
I’ve always been crazy but it’s kept me from going insane

I have never been “the same” and after too many hard and painful years trying to be so, I finally began to see that I did not want to be so, or at least started down that redemptive path.  An Iconic moment in my life was a cold and dismal day visiting my sister in Colorado and a trip to Cave of the Winds in Manitu Springs.  As a child, I had been on the tour before, each stop having its own particular speech, and on crowded days while listening to your guide, you could hear whispers of the next speech for the room beyond, and echos of the speech you just heard from the room behind.  Being early in the rainy day, I was the only one paying for the tour.  After a twenty minute wait for additional patrons, we were told to proceed.

At the top of the first stair, the speech was bravely begun by my young guide.  I allowed no more than two sentences of the 20 year old monologue before I stopped him.  “Look, it is only you and me.  If there is something particularly interesting to you about a particular part of this monologue, then great.  Otherwise I don’t want to hear it.  You know this place.  Tell me something you find interesting.  Tell me something new.”  I will always be glad that he bounced back with a smile.  The tour took twice as much time and was a day I will remember till I die.

It is so easy to be “normal”, “the same”, that way we always expect, give the polite “say nothing” conversation.  “How are you?”  “Fine.”  As an actor, introductions to people in the business were always painful, for you were always expected to talk about the wonderful opportunities you have had or work you had done.  I suspect there was a pile of one-ups-man-ship in all of that.  I was not very good at it.

But being “normal”, “the same” and such is almost never being “real” and the magic of relationships comes when you can finally be real with each other.  It is never the normal, never what you imagine, rarely what you see, and definitely not just what you want it to be.

I suppose that is one reason why I love what I have found in a BDSM relationship, because when you are putting your life in the hands of another person, or when you are blessed with the honor of having someone give you the responsibility for their safety and joy, being real is pretty close to a necessity.  Real communication, real honesty, real trust, really being there.  There is magic in that.  It is what allows the bond between people which can take you out of the normal, the same, and into world where you can discover what real life is all about.

As far as  never intentionally hurting anyone, I suppose a caveat here would be the oft used phrase, “I will hurt you, but I will not harm you.”  And I will give you great joy in doing so, I hope.

The Eroticist