26 thoughts on “Submitted Question: Zodiac

  1. Hehe, yeah Pandora is a wise woman!

    Indeed it sounds like, how a coincidence.

    Indeed, Insecurities are weaknesses. And I have this kind of weakness from time to time. >.<
    Hmm but I´m sure from time to time there is a person who have power over you…I mean, you live so long, this can not be avoided.

    I love the positiv traits of a Virgo!

    You know your blood type? How´s that?? I think your blood is a bit diffrent from ours, right?

    Blood type A:

    Best traits Earnest, creative, sensible, reserved, patient, responsible
    Worst traits Fastidious, overearnest, stubborn, tense

    Its sounds like you, what a coincidence…again.

    1. Our blood is very different from yours. It defies science in its properties, but it is, at its core essence, still blood.

      So you see? I am a shining example my signs and blood. There is a logical reason for my stubbornness and reserve.

  2. So you can still see what blood type you have? I never thought that.
    Have you figured out your blood group by yourself? Or was there a crazy scientist called Frankenstein who helped you? 😉

    Have the blood types a different taste? I mean, for example, all blood types of group B tastes somehow like chocolate? Or depends it always on the person how the blood taste?

    Yeah and the logic says, the blood and the stars know what’s going on. 😀 Mr. Spock would say now, >fascinating.<

    1. It’s not hard to find someone of sufficient intelligence, skill, and resource to help me do anything that it is I wish to do. I am very persuasive, as well, so I generally get what I want. People find it impossible to refuse me when I really want something. Curious. And most curious is that most people never even remember my company. Not even a twinge of my presence remains in memory. I must be terribly forgettable, wouldn’t you say?

      Since blood types are differentiated by variants of their actual make up as far as antigens, etc are concerned, they do all have a slight difference of taste, though nothing so remarkable that we have a specific type we prefer. There are other taste factors such as what a person eats, what they drink, if they are under the influence of any substance, and if they take medication. But since the blood is so much more than taste, but consists of feeling, that is the flavour we crave. Your entire essence, in spirit and body, is in your blood.

      1. Yeah I know…if you would drink from me, you would know that I love to drink sweet stuff. 😀 And you would see scenarios of my life, my past, Am I right? I don´t like this Idea. I wouldn’t want this.
        But I must confess, I really wonder how I would taste…even I´m still pretty sure that because of my medication I taste awful! In the end is my medicine a good life policy in so many ways. ^.^

        >It’s not hard to find someone of sufficient intelligence, skill, and resource to help me do anything that it is I wish to do. I am very persuasive, as well, so I generally get what I want. People find it impossible to refuse me when I really want something. Curious. And most curious is that most people never even remember my company. Not even a twinge of my presence remains in memory.I must be terribly forgettable, wouldn’t you say?<

        Hmm? Do I know you? Here's a strange place. What am I doing here anyway?

        1. You like to drink sweet stuff such as? Tell me what your favourite foods and beverages are. I am a man of detail, after all, and no detail lacks importance.

          My goodness, you seem to have lost your way. Fortunately for you, I have the heart of an honest man. If I were a more devious sort, you may have cause to worry. But then given your attachment to Santino, I think you like a little deviousness and danger.

  3. I love tiramisu and everthing with chees ^^ Fruits are also delicious.

    For the drinks, Almdudler (Herbal lemonade from Austria with much carbonation) and Swipp Schwapp (Its Cola with Fanta).

    You have the heart of an honest man? Im sure the spider says that to the butterfly as well… 😀

    Just a little?

    1. Everything with cheese sounds delightful. I do miss certain foods, to be honest. And I love to watch people eat, but more so I love to be able to hand feed people.

      You are absolutely correct, darling. I am very much a spider in butterfly clothing. Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven, after all.

      1. What was your favorite meal as mortal?

        Hmm feed people? Sounds delicious and lovely. My next boyfriend should do that ^^

        See! And thats why I said, you are not harmless! And that I would be safe when your starving or in a bad mood is not really believable. Not that I care.

        Ha. Sometimes you are moody, am I right? How is my Marius tonight?

        1. I kept to a slim diet because I was always very aware of how personal habits could damage the body, and thus the mind. I quite liked fruit: strawberries, grapes, and apples especially. I also liked seafood a lot, or rather shellfish such as mussels and even shrimp.

          I am in quite a mood sort tonight, it seems. I seem to be snapping at everyone for every little thing. Perhaps it is time to sit on the couch with a book.

  4. OMG that reminds me…like Armand…you not know how Tiramisù tastes… Oh you poor souls… 😉
    Ah yes, seafood is quite delicious. Slim diet…Are you always and everywhere disciplined?

    Oh dear, were you insensitive? Or have your logic mind miss a small and important thing? Please, tell me, what happen.

    Which book was worthy for you tonight?

    1. I think self-discipline is important in life, though I don’t expect others to exercise it such to the degree I expect from myself. I am of a different time, after all, when men were taught to be austere and disciplined. Naturally, it was not an ideal that a lot subscribed to, especially as the years made the age more decadent. I just always sought to be active and healthy. In retrospect, perhaps I should have let myself go, because then I would have attracted no notice. Mael used to say that being told I was fit both in both body and mind to be a God had gone to my head, but that is not true. In any case, I am certain he was only jealous.

      You and I both know that even self-discipline has its blind spots. I am far from the sort to entirely reject pleasure and decadence, and I have plenty of my own vices, but these are rather vices I adopted through the years. As a mortal I was quite different in a lot of ways. But even then I liked drinking, though I was not a chronic, nightly drinker because it kept me from writing through the night, and it made it sluggish and lazy. Yet I gave into it, went to banquets and parties, and got myself thoroughly inebriated with notable frequency.

      And there is a reason for this. I have always had a mind that cannot not stop its thinking. I still have it, and if anything its capacity to drive me insane has only increased. As a man, I was always and forever thinking a dozen strands of thought at the same time. Everything I saw I noted. Everything of note, I analysed. There was always so much stimuli. Even at rest and alone, my brain would rush at a million miles an hour and I would always be thinking and analysing and creating. When I would drink, there would be peace in my head. The wine took away that part of my brain that was always turning like a racing gear. It was so relaxing to finally be able to think simply, to see and notice veritably nothing.

      I also very much liked sex with both men and women, and I suppose one could say that was a vice. But I was by no means the type to have frequent stranger encounters. I had slaves.

      Sometimes I get myself terribly grumpy. I think perhaps I was a bit worn inside. I had a peaceful night to myself, watching television programmes and reading lovely gay erotica. I was reading a BDSM themed gay erotic story called Submission, which is in a series of books called Deviations. It was no Shakespeare, and not even a little Rowling. It is the sort of book that only a woman could have written because, though it has been a while, I remember sex between men being a little different than what I read. Fair enough, though.

      1. I think self-discipline is important in life, though I don’t expect others to exercise it such to the degree I expect from myself. I am of a different time, after all, when men were taught to be austere and disciplined. Naturally, it was not an ideal that a lot subscribed to, especially as the years made the age more decadent. I just always sought to be active and healthy. In retrospect, perhaps I should have let myself go, because then I would have attracted no notice. Mael used to say that being told I was fit both in both body and mind to be a God had gone to my head, but that is not true. In any case, I am certain he was only jealous.

        He was certainly a bit jealous, yes, but always keep in mind he was from a different culture and sees that all in a different light. Even if I don´t share his opinion I could understand why he thinks and feels that way. And perhaps you would see yourself in that same light when you would be in Mael’s shoes…what do you think?

        Don’t be too hard with him. And if you say now, you always do so, well, you can broaden your horizon and conquer your inner demons. Or at least try to. That would be a sign of greatness, wisdom and such stuff.

        Oh a funny note, as I was new on the forum I wrote sometimes „Meal“ instead of „Mael“ AND nobody told me that! >.<

        I guess I'm not so very self-disciplined as you are. It depends on the situation and for what I should be disciplined.

        You and I both know that even self-discipline has its blind spots. I am far from the sort to entirely reject pleasure and decadence, and I have plenty of my own vices, but these are rather vices I adopted through the years.
        As a mortal I was quite different in a lot of ways. But even then I liked drinking, though I was not a chronic, nightly drinker because it kept me from writing through the night, and it made it sluggish and lazy. Yet I gave into it, went to banquets and parties, and got myself thoroughly inebriated with notable frequency.

        Ah, Marius tell me about your sins you adopted over the years. Besides blood and thunder.

        A drunk Marius…that must have been something to see.
        I read that Roman banquets could take really extreme forms. Is it true that at such a debauch people ate until they got sick, then threw the food up just to eat some more?

        And there is a reason for this. I have always had a mind that cannot not stop its thinking. I still have it, and if anything its capacity to drive me insane has only increased. As a man, I was always and forever thinking a dozen strands of thought at the same time. Everything I saw I noted. Everything of note, I analysed. There was always so much stimuli. Even at rest and alone, my brain would rush at a million miles an hour and I would always be thinking and analysing and creating. When I would drink, there would be peace in my head. The wine took away that part of my brain that was always turning like a racing gear. It was so relaxing to finally be able to think simply, to see and notice veritably nothing.

        I also very much liked sex with both men and women, and I suppose one could say that was a vice. But I was by no means the type to have frequent stranger encounters. I had slaves.
        Sometimes I get myself terribly grumpy. I think perhaps I was a bit worn inside. I had a peaceful night to myself, watching television programmes and reading lovely gay erotica. I was reading a BDSM themed gay erotic story called Submission, which is in a series of books called Deviations. It was no Shakespeare, and not even a little Rowling. It is the sort of book that only a woman could have written because, though it has been a while, I remember sex between men being a little different than what I read. Fair enough, though.

        Bad for the slaves if they didn’t want to share the bed with you, wasn’t it? 😉

        Grumpy guys need a hug or a beating, or both. So, should I beat or hug you?

        Well that sounds interesting. Is there a German version of that book as well? I love gay and bisexual stuff. Even though I´m totally boring and just hetero XD. Of course I was trying it out as I was 15 or 16 years old. It was not the whole sex program but you can say I learned a lot about my body. And I´ve learned that I’m not lesbian. LOL XD

        Right, women write gay stuff in a very „female“ romantic way. Normally you really know if a woman has written something like that or not. Besides as far as I know, and as you mentioned it already, reality looks quite different. Many years ago I read a lesbian story. It was very romantic and nice.

        1. He was certainly a bit jealous, yes, but always keep in mind he was from a different culture and sees that all in a different light. Even if I don´t share his opinion I could understand why he thinks and feels that way. And perhaps you would see yourself in that same light when you would be in Mael’s shoes…what do you think?

          I think there is a part of me, the intellectual centre of my being, that tries to understand what motivated Mael to find a man in the best years of his life and condemn him to death (or so I thought at the time– I had no way of knowing what would happen). On an intellectual level, I do understand what compelled Mael to do what he did to me. When I consider it that way, I do not dislike Mael quite so much. Mael was motivated by simple-minded faith, which was a bit charming even then with its barbarian simplicity. Almost endearing now in retrospect. But what drove Mael was a religious passion too deep for me to understand, as I am a faithless man and always have been.

          It is hard for me to sympathise with Mael; perhaps I could be more objective if it wasn’t my head his friends smashed in, if it wasn’t my wrists bound, and my months of mind-numbing boring captivity. I was also half finished a book that they did not even have the respect for literacy to preserve for me. Perhaps I would find Mael’s culture and religious compulsions more charming if I had not been locked in a room for months and forced to recite meaningless incantations, knowing in the back of my head (perhaps the part that was crushed, most of all) that I was going to die so that these barbarians could sing those very same songs as I was being tutored in while I died. It makes one bitter.

          Oh a funny note, as I was new on the forum I wrote sometimes „Meal“ instead of „Mael“ AND nobody told me that!

          Mail, Male, Meal. So many amusing ways to misspell his silly name.

          Ah, Marius tell me about your sins you adopted over the years. Besides blood and thunder.

          I have become increasingly more enamored with the flesh, and with the pleasures of the flesh. Which, while I always appreciated physical pleasure, I took for granted. It simply was there, and momentary. Now I try to enjoy every sensuous opportunity.

          A drunk Marius…that must have been something to see.

          I was always a happy drunk. The more intoxicated I was, the funnier everything around me grew.

          I read that Roman banquets could take really extreme forms. Is it true that at such a debauch people ate until they got sick, then threw the food up just to eat some more?

          Oh yes. Wine in endless supply, and strange and exotic foods from all corners of the Roman Empire. Many of the dishes were designed more for novelty than edibility, and people enjoyed the rarity of certain foods more than their taste. So much of the food was repugnant that I am sure some of the vomiting was sincere. Yet many men chose to willingly vomit to make room for more food and wine.

          I never did. I thought it was disgusting.

          Bad for the slaves if they didn’t want to share the bed with you, wasn’t it?

          I tried not to abuse my slaves, but I lived in a very different time. Of course people now think that a practice such as sleeping with slaves is quite abhorrent, but we Romans had different cultural concepts of property and power. Sex was a necessary and I was, for most of my life, a single man. Rich men such as I was did not go to brothels because we had slaves at home to tend to our needs, and in any case I would not have wanted to consort with the sort of people who attended brothels. I had no wife, I had no secret lover, and I certainly had no intention of being chaste.

  5. Marius, reading your words above it seems like we can have in common more than thought. I’ve had the feeling that I was reading about me.

      1. Absolutely agree. If there is nothing to share is a bit difficult to get a good start.
        But, I have seen in your words that you’re very hard on yourself. More than critical, or is it a perception of mine?

        1. It is only through critical self-examination that we ever have a chance toward obtaining perfection of mind and attitude. I am tremendously critical, and there is nothing anyone can say to me that I haven’t said to myself a million times over. Yet rather than be browbeaten by it, I find myself rising from the ashes of self-doubt stronger and more aware of my limits than before, and this helps compel me through endless centuries. Perfection is a timeless endeavour. Though sometimes I find myself without spirit; fallen to an old and common depression that my self-criticism only exacerbates. There are times when I can barely move my limbs for my misery, or hear my own thoughts over the shouts from within my head of my every fault.

  6. But perfection is impossible, like happiness. One can reach something seemed to perfection or happiness, but never it will be absolute.
    I’m a hopeless perfectionist, and this fact had always brought to me more disappointment than satistaction. Sometimes I have to remember to myself that, if for some reason, I can’t achieve the perfection I need, I won’t be a worse person…The ugly part of all of this is that I tend to search perfection on others, and this is totally impossible.

    1. Perfection is impossible, but with each step that we make toward it, we improve. Though the final goal is unobtainable, we should still strive for the closest thing toward perfection. Of mind, of course.

      I lament with you, Vincent. Perfectionism is nothing but a miserable spiral down into dissatisfaction. Because isn’t it the unfortunate nature of perfectionism that when you fail, you look inside to find the cause? It is always because you did something wrong, or you did not do enough.

      I try to make others perfect, too, and then they come to resend me.

      What a miserable pair we would make. Nothing but sighs and complaints.

      1. I agree, but between sighs and complaints sometimes we see some light and find some wellness, althought it is hard to recognize it.

        1. Is that we sit miserable and alone and think about all of the missed chances, our lost opportunities, and the things that could have been?

  7. Indeed feeling miserable and alone is something well known by me. Too many times I feel miserable, but the weirdest fact is that I feel good at the same time.
    Do you regret your lost opportunities? Or do you try to content yourself with what you kept?

    1. I am not the sort to dwell on regret because I feel it stunts us from growth, and from looking forward to the future. If I let myself sink under the weight of regret, I might come to loathe eternity, and I cannot imagine losing my desire to simply be alive. Regret is a paralytic and I cannot abide by it.

      I learn from mistakes, and from time to time I do feel twinges of sadness or regret, but I refuse to linger too long on it. I refuse to feed it, to give it power, and let it dominate over me.

      By no means am I an optimist; I am an utter and unwavering cynical realist. That is why I am realistic about the folly of regret. I deny it not because I wish to see the world in a bright, happy way, but rather because I do not wish to have the truth of the world around me clouded by negativity.

      1. Being a cynical realist, how can’t you give up in front of the eternity?
        I mean, being a realist for me means that my mind never stops thinking of all the consequences that one act can haul. I see the positive parts, of course, but always I’m thinking about what can stain these nice parts, when, how…just to be aware of it.
        These kind of thoughts are something I just keep for me, because sharing them with others would drown them into my musings and doubts, and I know this could be insane.
        Having this kind of mind, I believe I couldn’t face eternity at all…which is your antidote to face the bare reality surrouding you?

        1. I have had a long time to teach myself how to avoid focusing for too long on things that are negative, and allow some time to focus on the positive. As you say, it is “bare reality.” This means that it is not fate conspiring against me, or that I am the recipient of cruel circumstance. Seeing rather that negative things are simply a part of reality’s course is a good way to keep your sanity, and indeed your spirit. It is wise to be guarded and wary, but it would be to one’s disadvantage to forget that realism is a way of thinking meant to help us survive, not to hinder us in being happy.

          I keep myself busy. I work a great deal both teaching and researching. I enjoy what I do and I get much pleasure from it. I never let myself falter, in other words I never forget that I have a purpose for being here, for living. My immortality is not without meaning. I am not without meaning. There are beautiful things in this world, in nature or man made things, to remind me that there is much to feel positive about. Most of all, because I know that I am needed.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.