Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Is it better to understand or be understood?

I had recently wrote about being on the receiving end of a predator who committed what I would have once thought of as an unthinkable act against another human being.

Know thine enemy.  I have much compassion for people who are stuck in a cycle where in their mind. They remain the victim. We all know someone of this character trait. At one end of the spectrum, you have a person who does not harm anyone but themselves. Never able or willing to see any part that they might play interacting with others. If a person never at fault or put another way. If they always blame people, places and/or things? Then by default they are perfect.
If you can agree with me on my reasoning? Then you will understand my compassion even for people who have raised their hands against me.  Fear prevents them from moving forward. There will be no growth in mind and soul.  A rigid belief system that can never be challenged. They do not see the trap they have made for themselves.  Forever to repeat the same life lessons until the day they die. Resentful of others who continue to move on in their life journey.
I would never put myself deliberately in harms way. I am simply saying my compassion extends even to people who are stuck in a hell of their own creation.

The difference is clear to me. We can chose to be fearless or allow fear to run our lives.

Being fearless does not mean, one is without fear. My definition: Allowing it to pass through you...where only you remain. (A take on Dune the book yes I am a nerd).

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Exorcising Demons

Exorcising Demons
Much has changed since I last visited Atlanta some twenty years ago, a city I once called home for over a decade. I left shortly after I had returned home to find a note next to my two dogs, dead, left by a man who had poisoned them. After three months of feeling like a hostage in my own home, I decided this would be the last time I would endure that feeling. I was the cause of his pain (he insisted) and he wanted me to know how much he was hurting by hurting me, by killing the two things I cherished above all else at that time.
Prior to the day I found my slain pets, which were like family, lifeless in my home, what would be sanctuary for most but not for me, this man had chosen to force his will upon me by breaking into my apartment. Another time I found him sitting on my couch drinking a beer that he helped himself to and watching my TV, waiting for me to get home. I will never forget the words that came out of his mouth: "You made me do this, (breaking into my place) you never returned or answered any of my calls." I understood then and there how dangerous people with a victim mentality can be. They are capable of doing things others would not conceive of doing to another person. Self-proclaimed victims feel justified in their behavior because they are unwilling to see how they could have played any part in the situation. There was nothing I could say to this man sitting on my couch, someone who had taken such liberties in a place I called home. Anything I said he would have dismissed and lay all blame at my feet.
I have been single since that day.

I wish I could say that dog-killing stalker was the worst thing I have ever been forced to endure. I hold no malice for this person. Hate and resentment of him had long ago been exorcised--or so I had told myself. I have since walked in Piedmont Park daily, the same path where I had walked my dogs.  I have visited clubs where I am reminded of this man's relentless pursuit. To deny that I am still not effected by the trauma is akin to putting my head in the sand.
Aloof I would be described as if our paths have crossed in this city. It would be one of the kinder words a few here have written to me. I do, however, understand why they would come to that opinion. My history, the reason for my departure  from Atlanta so many years ago, is known by few; my road to recovery known by even fewer.  Leaving this city I returned to Austin, Texas,  the place of my birth, to lick my wounds. The pain was so great, I became willing to seek outside help in the form of a male therapist.  As a survivor of incest in my childhood and recently traumatized in Atlanta, I was at an all time low spiritually.
Then, on week three of seeing my therapist, he pulls my pants down and goes down on me while jacking off onto my shoes. Then he zips up his pants and simply tells me "same time next week."

Shortly after, I attempt at suicide, and thankfully I failed. I was then fortunate to meet my spiritual guide, Myra. She worked for a gay counseling service in Austin. I am eternally grateful for the patience and support she provided me. There was nothing I was unwilling to look at, even my core beliefs. My decision to kill myself was based on them. Willing had I become to find a solution that worked best for me.
The gift I learned from suffering at the hands of a few starting at the early age of six was a compassion for others who were still suffering at the hands of another. A love for myself above all others came out of the pain. How can we begin to love another in a healthy way if we do not first learn to love ourselves?
I walk in this city never looking directly at a person out of fear and it hurts my soul to admit it. I keep going out to the places where harm was done to me, seeking the ability to know when it is appropriate to be vulnerable and when I should be on guard. To recognize the trap in advance is the only way one can learn to avoid being caught in its grip. I see the trap I have placed in my path today. The gift is having the strength to work through the pain and fear to return to a place based in love and serenity. 
This is my life and I thank you for allowing me the opportunity to live as I so chose to do.
Andrew Adam Caldwell took the pictures...

Thursday, April 23, 2015

In the state of Washington...Justice for all who can afford it.

I had an opportunity a few years ago to get a first hand understanding of how justice is served in the state of Washington. I had a judge who changed the rules as he saw fit. One who never had any intention of allowing me an opportunity to be heard.

I fired my first attorney when she stated "innocent people, plead guilty all of the time." The second attorney received the boot when he arrived the court date. Just to ask for an extension. This was after he ignored all my attempts at contacting him 3 months prior to the trial.

The third attorney did the exact thing, showing up the day of the trial never responding to any of my calls or letters. He asked me for an extension so he could prepare for the trial and I attempted to terminate him as my lawyer. This time the same judge denied my request.

He took it a step further telling me that he would not allow me to waste tax payers money or his time. I could either represent myself now or let the attorney I had tried firing represent me. I was forced to take a lesser charge right then and there. Justice at its best.

In hindsight, the first lawyer was likely the most honest and up front. She new full well how corrupt the system has become. Justice is simply a lip service to placate the masses.

I remember when my judge asked me. Why I did not respect his authority? My response was a simple one. Respect is a gift given. You have never given me a reason to do so. I tolerate your ass because I do not have a choice.

I see no reason to have a change of heart now some 4 years later.

Buster Sly

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

I am always flattered by the people who take time out of thier lives to send me mean spirited messages.

I have never bothered keeping count of the times I have heard statements such as. "you are too old for this business" or " Are you not ashamed to be in the porn industry...get a real job."

If I bother to respond it is usually with a "thank you followed by bless your heart". Telling on themselves is what they are doing. Likely without knowing it.  I will break it down to those who might not get where I am coming from and why I am always flattered when receiving such messages.

I do not know these people from a can of paint. Yet for me to elicit such emotions from a total stranger tells me all that I need to know. If they did not care they would never bother writing. I promise you, I do not expend energy on those who mean nothing to me. The phrase "thou protest too much" comes to mind.

Once while visiting San Francisco I was told "You need to take your coon ass back to Seattle.". After i calmed down enough from laughter, I did thank him to taking the time to write me. Fear is the driving force behind this type of emotion. The proper response should always be sympathy.  Along with gratitude, for not living in a world based in fear and intolerance.

Bless their Hearts, indeed.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

I was asked "Do you work to live or live to work?"

This extended trip away from home in Seattle, which started in Austin TX and will likely end here in Atlanta. It has been a lesson in balance. I have spent more time relaxing and less worrying about missing important messages.

I can easily get caught up in work. For getting a important life lesson learned 20 plus years ago. I was asked "Do you work to live or live to work?" Far to often it would appear that I live to work.  That for me is a trap. Resentment soon follows. If I do not crash and burn first.

The joy that comes with slowing down to experience all that I am capable of doing has to be the solution. My serenity has not been challenged in some time. That in itself is a great place to be allowing me to look forward to work rather than not.

I have not experienced such a balanced period in my adult life for some time. Exercising my body, stimulating my mind while getting ample rest. The only thing missing is a good  fuck. I am not really searching for the later. It cums when it comes.

Sunday, April 5, 2015

A message to would be fuckbuddy's, boyfriends, tricks and treats. Get out of the car.

Yesterday on two occasions I was on the receiving end of someone trying to get my attention by honking their horn while driving. I had been enjoying the day at the park, En route on foot to my hotel room.

My response has always been not to even turn and acknowledge the person in the vehicle. You will never impress me in this fashion. It matters not to me the type of vehicle you are driving. Better to get out of the car and introduce yourself. I am from the south and will always respond in kind.

At a bar or in any public place. I am more impressed at what you have done for yourself (inside work) than what you can do for me. If I wanted a daddy (farther figure)? I would move back home and live with my farther and not worry about fucking when I am not in the mood.

A kind soul and genital heart speaks volumes to me. Yet make no mistake about it. I am a sexual being. If you do not bring your A-game with you when we both decide to fuck? I will likely suggest that we work on being friends.

Just want to put it out there for the next person who thinks that I am ignoring them when they circle the block and honk the horn a second time. They would be correct. It is tacky and insulting. My mother raised me better than that.

Buster Sly

picture by Roger Stillman

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Something new at

Visit to see what new as well as where you can find me this spring and summer. Such as the ONXY event in Atlanta and the recent Interview by no other than BeBe Sweetbriar did I fail to mention Pride in Brussels (can not show the Pride Poster it is not PG) ? I guess not.

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