A Return From Bondage
29 May 2007 15:56![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amulEdit: Stupid LJ-through-IM Bot. Let's try this again.
Just got back from Shibari Con last night. After spending the entire weekend playing until 3am, and then trying to get up in time to help volunteer at 7am....I pretty much fell asleep face-first into my dinner of frozen fish sticks.
As I helped load the last of the equipment into the trucks, a fellow attendee made what I thought was a very astute point.
Me: It just sort of sucks, you know? We're going to leave here, and no longer be able to get into casual conversations with complete strangers about cock rings.
Him: Are you kidding? In our daily lives we can't get into casual conversations with complete strangers at all.
Now I'm sitting at Metropolis Coffee House, painfully aware of the sense of isolation. I came here to be with people, so that at the very least the sounds of life and laughter could drown out the machine-hum of air conditioners and humidifiers. That guy on the loading dock had a fair point.
I suppose that's why I like all of the conventions so much, not even for the subject of the event, but for the social freedom I feel in such places, confident that my need to reach out and connect to people will be cherished.
More about the convention itself, later, or never, as the case may be.
Just got back from Shibari Con last night. After spending the entire weekend playing until 3am, and then trying to get up in time to help volunteer at 7am....I pretty much fell asleep face-first into my dinner of frozen fish sticks.
As I helped load the last of the equipment into the trucks, a fellow attendee made what I thought was a very astute point.
Me: It just sort of sucks, you know? We're going to leave here, and no longer be able to get into casual conversations with complete strangers about cock rings.
Him: Are you kidding? In our daily lives we can't get into casual conversations with complete strangers at all.
Now I'm sitting at Metropolis Coffee House, painfully aware of the sense of isolation. I came here to be with people, so that at the very least the sounds of life and laughter could drown out the machine-hum of air conditioners and humidifiers. That guy on the loading dock had a fair point.
I suppose that's why I like all of the conventions so much, not even for the subject of the event, but for the social freedom I feel in such places, confident that my need to reach out and connect to people will be cherished.
More about the convention itself, later, or never, as the case may be.
