Tut tut tut.
Made my heels a forgotten song.
'Tis been a season since I put some makeup on.
Stretched across a stocking or that sexy thong.
Tut tut tut.
Where did the beats go?
Drunken revelry with my friend and foe.
Sleep arrives early and the mornings so.
Tut tut tut.
Days go by without a shave.
Oversized tee and shorts to save.
Glamour forgone, once I used to crave.
Tut tut tut.
Why don't I comprehend much?
Keep reading and reading, don't sink in such.
Harder I try, keep losing the touch.
Tut tut tut.
Whatever did happen here.
Rusted engine, wheels and gear.
So much for all my political queer.
Tut tut tut.
Maybe one day I shall get up back.
Catch up with all that has so far lack.
And have this song another crack.
Tut tut tut.
Banalities of Desi Kink Scene
I seriously don't comprehend the Delhi BDSM scene. What is this stringent adherence to the traditionally normative Dom/Sub roles? As if BDSM is only equivalent to the dynamics between masters and slaves alone. I'm sorry but I don't identify as a sub or a slave. The idea of simply submitting your autonomy for no random reason but that you're just simply expected to; is fucking boring to me. Also, submitting your identity to that of a "slave" blurs the line between dominance and degradation (at least going by Delhi male mentality). I don't find humilation erotic and I'm clear about that. And if a dom crosses that line, I like to have some agency to protest it. That's why I identify as a 'Brat' which is one of the many varied roles in masochism.
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