Realism, Pessimism, and Hope

"I wasn't thanking him for the coin," says Sayuri in Memoirs of a Geisha, talking about her great love upon first meeting him.  "Or even for the trouble he'd taken in stopping to help me.  I was thanking him for, well, for something I'm not sure I can explain even now.  For showing me that something besides cruelty could be found in the world, I suppose."   This passage in the book is meaningful to me on a human level.  It has nothing much to do with D/s specifically; or BDSM or any of the alternative labels and structures for relationships that I explore in Second Life.  It has everything to do with the human beings we interact with on a daily basis.  With the people that I meet.  With You, my mighty and penetrating You.  You are like the Chairman, Sayuri's beloved.  You are like the one who brings Sayuri currency in a world of poverty.  You are like the one who brings Sayuri hope in a world of pessimism posing as "realism".
I met a man who tries to tell me the way things really are; but the way things really are in his mind are skewed by a terrible, scorpion-like anger.   I met another man who devotes his time to the growing of flowers in a vast garden, but he tends only to those who cry and fail; to those who call out with a shy silence and wound.  The flowers that breathe and thrive, on the other hand, he does not look at or enjoy, and they blossom for nobody.  I have met a man who is barely alive; rarely breathing; and infrequently amused.  I have met a man trapped by his own logic, a snake with two heads that devour to the core until nothing remains.  And I have met a man whom I could not even distinguish from the chip he bore like Atlas with the world -- a giant tumor of a chip that spoke for him, walked for him, alienated the world for him, but left him to wonder at his own loneliness, as if he could not see the chip that manipulated him.  Could you master any girl, truly? I won't allow myself to discover yes or no; I must protect myself from this.

And I have met a man who appears to me almost as though he were my own shadow --   who knows, somehow, the very curve of my wrist as though it were his own.  Who makes me feel as though I were not one of many petals but, rather, an entire blossom proper and ready, something select and chosen.  Someone careful with words.  Someone calm.  Someone with imagination.  No pretense, or so it would seem (and isn't the best art that which cannot be detected?)   And I have met a man who knows good photography when he sees it, and who shares.  I am quite enamoured with John Tisbury's photography at the moment and I'm becoming a fan.  His landscape prints can be purchased in Second Life at Alanis gallery.  Anyway, You of my clear and vivid imagination... You, Sir, have me captivated.  I am beginning to wonder if You are as intimately familiar with the curve of my wrist as I am familiar with the calm waters of your deep sea.  Sayuri committed herself, submitted herself, to the path that would lead her eventually into the arms of her Chairman.  An unwavering devotion.  So Choji walks, slowly and with sweet curiosity as butterflies and flowers surround her, towards You.