So I’ve been thinking about why this muse left me. And I think I figured it out. Much of what he was doing was too… vanilla.
Like, what is the essence of Dionysus? What is the core of his being? It’s formless chaos really. Who is Dionysus? He’s a god so beautiful and androgynous that its hard to tell what sex he even is, and he doesn’t particularly care, because he’s both and neither and more. He’s madness and drunkenness and debauchery and weirdness wrapped up in an ethereal beauty that cannot be described. Sometimes he wears the guise of a man, sometimes a woman, but he always leaves you questioning, and the more you question the better.
He’s the essence of an orgy and barhopping and quiet contemplation and a joyful celebration all in one. He’s the god of madness, of wine, of theatre, the patron god of all non-binary people, the joyful upender of morals and norms, the one who throws everything you knew about yourself and the world in the shredder and makes you question it all.
He’s the god of pleasure, not love, the god of kink and wildness and throwing caution to the wind; it should be strange, weird, bizarre, nasty, dirty, messy and wild; and yet it should also be intimate, intense, satisfying, curious, playful, joyous and serene.
He should enter the room naked, his dick glowing like the sun, and when someone blushes and objects he should ask why you can’t take your eyes off it and why anyone should be nervous or embarrassed about nudity. His very presence is drunkenness, his very spirit that of change.
He’s a being of metamorphosis, endlessly evolving, never the same twice, always leaving people on their toes. He doesn’t ask or think, he acts, always in motion and doing what he pleases, for he is the very spirit of youthful exuberance. He sweeps you off your feet and leads you to sensations you didn’t know were possible.
Other gods curse mortals by turning them into things, but Dionysus uses them as a blessing. To shift and change one’s form is divine, like an actor playing a role, and they range from the banal to the intriguing to the absurd and the terrifying. But never is it expected.
He gives you taste of the ambrosia, acts playful and enticing, and yet dangerous too, for his moods shift and change like the wind. He addicts you, enthralls you, drags you into new places you’re not certain you want to go but cannot come back from, and yet always leaves you wanting more. He leaves an impact upon your mind and body, irreversible and impossible to forget.
He makes you break your morals and your codes, makes you lose yourself and make mistakes, makes you question how you could do such things when you’re normally so restrained and in control. But he is the very essence of losing control, the very essence of you indulging in your wildest, most intense, sometimes most depraved pleasures, and he does not judge you for it. It comes without warning, without expectation, and you can’t say no, not because he forces you, but because you cannot find it within yourself to turn down what is being offered.
He is the reason you stare at yourself in the mirror, asking if you should go back to bed, knowing what awaits you there. Not out of fear of him, or of yourself, but out of fear whatever he shows you next might be your newest addiction, your newest perverse craving you can’t control. And then he wraps his arms around you, fills you with pleasure unending, assures you he’ll never judge or reject you, and you go willingly with him to bed, and the taboo experiences he provides and revels in.
He is comforting, and he is disquieting. He is beautiful and terrifying. He is unfocused and direct. He is the twice born god Dionysus, god of madness, wine, revelry, metamorphosis, pleasure, and theatre. Where he walks, people lose themselves willingly, for such is the pleasure he provides. He gives without hesitation, holds nothing back, and questions everything, for he is what he gives.
He is both exactly what you think he is and exactly what you think he’s not. He’s a wild eyed enigma, deep in his cups, and a clear eyed philosopher ready to refute your every objection.
He is Dionysus the Liberator, freeing you from all things, from your fears to your morals, showing you what truly exists in your heart, and giving you all the depraved pleasures you deny yourself, and many you cannot even fathom. Where others see horror, he sees new experiences. Nothing can deter him, and he’s liable to drag you with him.
He is Dionysus, endlessly dynamic, endlessly changing, impossible to define perfectly, for any definition is in and of itself limited. Dionysus has no limits of being, he is whatever he chooses to be.
origamiaround
gamechangershow
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
theartofmadeline
stormborns
