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Nov. 21st, 2006 11:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wellownedbkupFrom Sin.
Smell:
I can smell it whenever I walk into my bedroom, both here at Kunst School of Arts, and at home. I have a great number sachets of potpourri stashed in my room, hidden in corners and drawers until someone else could possibly be overwhelmed by it. Sometimes it is something called Tide Waters. Sometimes it is something just simply called Ocean Breeze. It is salt water and fresh air and rain and a smell that makes me feel like home.
My Pacie, my lovely girlfriend and she who must be obeyed in everything, nearly gagged the first time I brought her into my room. It takes some getting used to, I guess. I had just changed the packets of scents to refresh the aroma. I admit, it was even too much for me to keep that day. But with an open window, she said she could get used to it and she could understand why I loved it. She could understand why I wanted to be surrounded with a comforting smell.
Sailing around in Boston Harbor is nothing like sailing on the open sea. The scent is not the same. The air is clogged with pollution from shipping vessels and the city, leaving nothing but grey skies and even murkier waters. There is nothing soothing about it, and it leaves me itching to return to my room where I can find solace and home.
When I lay on my bed, I close my eyes and let my whole being soak in the safest aroma I know. Tension just eases away from me until I feel like I am floating on the deck of my little sailboat off the coast of home, ready to tip off of the edge of the world. Pacie told me I looked like someone had taken all the bones from my body and left just the shell of me. I could not help but agree with her, since that is how I have felt every time I fall asleep in my room.
I feel like, if anything, the smell of sand and the open ocean is like catnip to me. I give in immediately, and am open to almost anything when I smell it. Pacie laughs at me every time she offers something entirely ridiculous and I go along without thought. I do not mind that she takes advantage of me. She knows how much I love her, and that I would do what she wants willingly. The smell of home just knocks me over the edge.
And she knows that I am just as easy in her room, as the scent of her is insinuating itself into all my senses and taking my mind over. She is taking me over with jasmine and vanilla and the warmth that is all woman and nothing to do with open water and sailing. It is a landed, earthy scent that is beginning to become home to me in way that the sand and ocean can never be.
It is like she is a reflection of me in feminine form. A yin to my yang. A balance for a weary sailor who just needed to find a proper harbor.
Smell:
I can smell it whenever I walk into my bedroom, both here at Kunst School of Arts, and at home. I have a great number sachets of potpourri stashed in my room, hidden in corners and drawers until someone else could possibly be overwhelmed by it. Sometimes it is something called Tide Waters. Sometimes it is something just simply called Ocean Breeze. It is salt water and fresh air and rain and a smell that makes me feel like home.
My Pacie, my lovely girlfriend and she who must be obeyed in everything, nearly gagged the first time I brought her into my room. It takes some getting used to, I guess. I had just changed the packets of scents to refresh the aroma. I admit, it was even too much for me to keep that day. But with an open window, she said she could get used to it and she could understand why I loved it. She could understand why I wanted to be surrounded with a comforting smell.
Sailing around in Boston Harbor is nothing like sailing on the open sea. The scent is not the same. The air is clogged with pollution from shipping vessels and the city, leaving nothing but grey skies and even murkier waters. There is nothing soothing about it, and it leaves me itching to return to my room where I can find solace and home.
When I lay on my bed, I close my eyes and let my whole being soak in the safest aroma I know. Tension just eases away from me until I feel like I am floating on the deck of my little sailboat off the coast of home, ready to tip off of the edge of the world. Pacie told me I looked like someone had taken all the bones from my body and left just the shell of me. I could not help but agree with her, since that is how I have felt every time I fall asleep in my room.
I feel like, if anything, the smell of sand and the open ocean is like catnip to me. I give in immediately, and am open to almost anything when I smell it. Pacie laughs at me every time she offers something entirely ridiculous and I go along without thought. I do not mind that she takes advantage of me. She knows how much I love her, and that I would do what she wants willingly. The smell of home just knocks me over the edge.
And she knows that I am just as easy in her room, as the scent of her is insinuating itself into all my senses and taking my mind over. She is taking me over with jasmine and vanilla and the warmth that is all woman and nothing to do with open water and sailing. It is a landed, earthy scent that is beginning to become home to me in way that the sand and ocean can never be.
It is like she is a reflection of me in feminine form. A yin to my yang. A balance for a weary sailor who just needed to find a proper harbor.
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no subject
Date: 2006-11-22 05:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-11-22 12:43 pm (UTC)