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Conventions, Cock-Yanks & Beyond

Greetings & Salutations!
As some of you know a few weeks ago I went to Orlando Florida for Playlist Live!
Normally I’m more of a concert or tattoo convention kinda person, but this year I decided
to branch out! Also, I really wanted to do one of the meet & greets that they were going to 
line up. I had no idea how mental it would be. 
It was kind of filled with assholes if I’m honest. Preening, hair-flipping and in some cases cellulite 
showing assholes. I’d never seen anything quite like this. The smell of arrogance wafted through the 
crowds of these types and churned my stomach. Fucking a. They all were there to out-do each other
in some kind of competition. “Well, I’m here to see…” “And I’m going to be bigger than *insert name here* when Playlist comes around next year. Right. And I’m going to be elected Prime Minister. Can’t
these people get a fuckin’ grip? I, at least, had some marginal expectations for the weekend.
A quest for passion, which admittedly as of now seems like quite a big waste of time. I should have known this was going to go on. Doesn’t it always? Have I learned nothing from past escapades?
If that weekend was anything to go by I’m going to have to say not really. The only difference from this time is the I didn’t add the date of the convention to my tattoo collection, incasing yet another moment of regret and sorrow into my flesh.
Anyway, I’m nervous in crowds at the best of times but in these, everyone was constantly moving and I stood out like a virgin in a brothel. I was the only heavily tattooed person there that I could see. Me. Modified in complete black looking like I belonged at a Marylin Manson concert rather than a vlogging convention. On the first night, Friday, I thought that I might make one friend out of the weekend. It seems that didn’t happen. I met a few nice people and we chatted but nothing really came of it. I was a bit awkward and distracted; I was focused on the meet and greet I was going to have the next afternoon and there were so many people I was focusing on trying not to have an anxiety attack. I was really putting the Xanax to the test.
Some people knew me from my books or from here which was nice. What I didn’t expect was a 13-year old girl to jump into my arms and scream, “IT’S YOU!!” I was startled and thought she’d mistaken me for someone else, like so many else did that day. Before I could ask her if she was sure of who I was, her mum came running up and told me that they loved to read my blog! They loved the Dan the Doodlebug parts and the Delectables with Dan recipes that I’d been doing. The little one clamoured that she wanted a photo with me and who was I to say no? Terrible she wanted such an ugly image though. I said yes, so I got down on my knees (I was wearing slight platforms) so that we could hug and her mum snapped the photo. While her daughter was looking at the photo and was I imaging tweeting it to her playmates at home, her mum leant over and said she enjoyed some of my rather saucier things and she likes to read them when her daughter’s in bed. Well, hot fuck. LEVEL UP!

I’m not going to talk about who I met because I don’t want any shit from jealous fan girls, but I will
say that the group was fucking insane. Literally. Clinically insane. It was mass hysteria at it’s finest and I was sat right in the fucking middle of it. They all were loud, chittering and some of them were like on the edge of weeing. I’ve never understood this. They’re just people. I was nervous that I’d make a fool of myself, not because I’m a “fan” per-se but because I like one of the people I was meeting. Like pretty much fucking love. I decided to meet him sober. No drugs, no alcohol, nothing. It was a challenge that I needed to overcome. There may be a time when I don’t want or am unable to have medications to help me manage my anxiety and this was an opportunity to learn to overcome it. And no, I don’t regret doing it sober.
Staff came in announced that the creators would be coming in and gave a spew of the rules. Most of them were just comment sense, but of course, some of the girls squaked over it. They failed to see there are safety issues that come with meet and greets and the rules are in place for that very reason. I centred myself. I had my presents for the lads ready to hand over to the woman who was handling them, my breathing was even and I wasn’t on the verge of fainting. I had it. Then I lost it. The doors opened and one of the boys jumped into the room with an outburst of energy and the girls went bonkers. Some were crying. Some were screaming. It felt like I was at a Backstreet Boys concert in the 90s; which I actually was. World Tour Baby. I had Pokemon trainers and had to be one of the youngest people in the venue. I was 8 years old-Shit, I’m getting off topic.
The way so many of them carried on was appalling. It was like some sort of side-show to be honest.
I felt bad for the boys having to handle that kind of thing. Things calmed down as the line moved thank fuck or I might have just choked one of these teenagers. I’d also like to point out that I was like the oldest at the meet and greet. I was at least 3 years older than most of the people there, which was both awkward and funny. The boys didn’t mind, they were brilliant we chatted, had a laugh or two I was able to give the one that I really fancy his present (the staff knew how much it would mean to him and how much effort I put into it when they asked me about it.) and snapped a few lovely photos. One of the photos is even framed and hung up in my house. Okay, I may have got a little excited. I got to hug both of them and almost melted. I’m not one who ever gets hugged but this shit was off the hook.
He was so amazed over his present that he struggled to get the words out. The amazement in his eyes told me what he physically could not. And that for me, is something that I’ve never experienced. I’m not sure if I ever will again. Both of them were so nice to me and even complimented me, which stunned the everliving fuck out of me, that when I left the area my hands were shaking. I’d done it.
I’d met someone who I really like, gave him a letter telling him of said love, got two hugs from him and didn’t vomit on him. All of that without meds, drugs or booze. I accomplished something in that room that day. Something I didn’t think I’d be able to do. I left that room a changed muffin.

I didn’t want to stay at the convention after that. I’d done what I wanted to do. Give him something special and share my feelings. The reality of what I did hit me and I really just wanted to get the fuck out of there in case he read the letter when he finished the meet ups & wanted to find me. I knew I couldn’t handle that. My nerves were shot. I headed to the Starbucks inside the hotel where I chatted with some girls in line. One of them kinda knew who I was so that was ace. They were all giggly at me, especially after the other one mentioned she knew who I was and my books. I got one of those Midnight Mint or Mint Midnight, whatever the fuck they call it coffees and headed out to get a taxi to the resort I was staying at. I left with an amazing high. I felt good about me, what I’d done and what I’d accomplished. Now, I kind of regret telling him how I feel cause I’ve not gotten a reply at all and I’m starting to lose hope. It kind of feels as if I set myself up for failure. Who knows. If something does happen, I’m not going to blog about it. I’d like to keep it private and only share it with my close mates. It’s not that I want to be dishonest or anything, I just feel that it wouldn’t be right for me to just spew everything across the internet without knowing if it’s something he’d prefer to keep to himself which he probably would.

See You Next Time…

🌴LINKS🌴
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/darklydreamingdaniel
Twitter: https://twitter.com/darkdreamingdan
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I’d like to thank everyone who’s come out to follow me on Instagram! In less than 24 hours I jumped up almost 300 followers just because of one piece of art that I did. The response to the piece has been amazing & unexpected. Seriously, thank all of you guys!

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Glass Hysteria

I listen to the symphony that is my joints and bones cracking as I caress my freshly washed skin with lotion. My fingers tremble as they explore the scoured inches of me. I feel the words caught in my chest, images of you surrounding me as I lay spread eagle on the floor. I’m anxiously waiting for you. I wrap my hands around my neck and work my way back; exploring the muscles of my neck and upper back. They’re so tight and tense. My hands are well lotioned, working the scented creams into my aching flesh. A slight moan escapes my lips and I imagine that it is your hands upon me. Sounds that are inhuman escapes me as I wrap my hands, your hands, around my collarbones and down to my soft, tender breasts. They’re soft and subtle, waiting to be caressed and sucked. Nibble them gently as you rub my scarred ribs. 

Taste me as you learn the secrets encased in my flesh. Press yourself into me. I need to feel your weight on me, protecting me from the world outside of you. Exchanging saliva in the hopes of a better pastime. And when the words crawl up my throat, I want you to be the one I whisper them to. Indulge my corrosive nature and impregnate me with your darkness and fascination of the sublime. Worlds explode within us as we consolidate on this dirty floor in the dim light of the night. 

I see my loneliness reflected you and you see yours reflected in me. Kiss me one more time and let me sink my fingers into the softness of your hips and thighs. I need to feel you move inside me once again. As the sky closes its eyes and tears begin to pour, love me like she’ll never smile again. Crawl inside me and ravage the poet within.  Your soft and shimmering cocoa coloured hair tangles with mine as I moan your name into your neck. You wrap your fingers me and grip me tight. With you, there’s no need to read between the lines. Pull out and slip your fingers into me. Bait me and tease me, love me blind. 


Your arms wrap around me and provide me with a security blanket of sorts while I watched the stars slowly burn out. I wake up to the beautiful acoustics of summer rain and you asleep in my arms. Your soft, slightly freckled skin is in perfect match with mine, our silhouettes have moulded into one exotic expression; Your beautiful intertwine with mine and for a moment I feel whole. It feels as if the world has stopped and time breathes so slowly around us. I feel my temperature rising and the blood stirring in your veins. 


I lay tracings patterns on your skin as I listen to the watch bead down the centuries old cathedrals and dream of listening to wedding bells chime. You moan slightly in your sleep, reaching out for my hand and I cease to breathe. Your hand finds mine and fits perfectly the shadows of the rain reflected in our skin. The sheets are bunched around your hips and I ache to leave a trail of kisses down your curvy side. My lips find your’s and I can’t help but lay a trail of kisses down your soft jawline. Your messy curls are my playground this morning, my fingers working through them. 



If this is sleeping with ghosts then I don’t want to wake. 

72˚ // For What It’s Worth

72˚
I
“For What It’s Worth”

With each vile and crude act, I feel myself becoming colder; less human. My heart, which is kept in a small cedar box with gold trim grows more and more decayed with each passing day. If I still possessed a heart or a soul for that matter perhaps I would feel, well, the smallest twinge of guilt for my actions. Sadly, at the moment, I’m void of any empathy or guilt. My lips against another woman’s. My tongue down the throat of a strange man. It’s more than just sexual pleasure. Pleasures of the flesh are only a part of it for me. I feel it be the connecting of something deep within me, something almost spiritual in nature. It’s a carnal urge that I long to satisfy as well. It’s a deep hunger, something that calls from deep within. I need to feel flesh. I need to taste blood. And if the cost is an exchange of some bodily fluids, who am I to say no? When I first saw him, I was mesmerised by his beauty; The almond colour of his eyes, the delicate shape and the iron black lashes that framed them. It nearly tore the breath from my chest and in that moment, I knew that I had to have him. I needed to taste that beauty. I needed to possess it. Greed, lust and desire overtook me like never before. I was like a carnivorous animal that had just been set free. I knew that I had to make my move now or lose him forever.