What Makes Me Feel.

   I have no tears for what cannot feel

I put little value on materialistic things, not saying I do not need or want of things, things do make life easier and more enjoyable, but things do not feed my soul, things do not make me feel with great deep emotion, things do not move me. So a thing may never bring tears to my eyes....with exception to sentimental things but the feeling of loss does  not come from the thing per say, but from a moment, a person, a love, from an accomplishment achieved, the remainder of the joy with in a moment that passed. But even if I would lose something sentimental, my tears would only be for the moments I feel I may have lost.

I think often in today world we get caught up with what we have and what we have not. I don't have much, but I have more than many. I have roof over my head; I have food in my tummy, clothes on my back, clean water to drink. I have a vehicle to drive, to get me from here to there and back again. I have means of communication, and I have other stuff...lots of stuff that holds no importance to me. And I can get rid of stuff with ease, with no tears shed. It does not mean much to me.

I love to paint, and draw; I love the feeling of emotions that come out from doing so, what it represents from my soul, my essence, my inner being. But even my art holds little value in my heart; I can let it go with ease, not a tear to be shed. I really don't even care to make money from my art. I just give it away to family, to friends, it makes me happy to see them happy, to me that is what life is about.

I sometimes get caught up with the competitions of who has more and/ or better stuff. And then after I spent what money I do not have, I get rid of said stuff. It does not fill me, it leaves me empty. Then there are times I feel sorry for myself because I do not have what others have. But if I did would that make me happy? And the answer always is no, no it will not make me happy. It will not feed my soul. Then I think of people who have very little, who have no roof over their head, very little food to feed their tummies, flimsy rags for clothes, and dirty water to drink. Funny thing is they do not feel sorry for what little they have. They live to survive.

So what is stuff? It is momentary, it is replaceable, it does feel and it does not feed the soul. So why do so many put so much value on stuff and little value on the living?

I have no tears for what cannot feel, I have tears for what can feel...I feel for the ones that truly need and I loathe the people who never can have enough, who feel entitled to belittle what can feel, and worship what cannot.

I will shed a tear for humanity, I will grieve for those who have lost what the true meaning of living is, and then after I will celebrate all that I have, and all that I have is the love I receive from the people I have been blessed with in my life. And celebrate the ones that understand what living is all about.

  

Defeated

I give, life wins...I gave it my best, I tried but life is too clever for me. I say "well played life, well played".

Ok, I get it, I put myself up to be defeated by challenging life. But a girl gotta try, so I tried; and well a girl gotta learn, I learned. Got to big for my breaches, a little cocky, thinking I knew it all (ok not all, but most). Should know better, but threw caution to the wind anyway; fly than fall, but it is all ok, brush off my knees and do it again; just not up against life. Life is too clever, too clever for me. I say "well played life, well played".

Vulnerable

 I am too submissive, to masochistic... I am too much. That is where I find I am comfortable and knowing that leaves me vulnerable. I am frighten of the vulnerability, I feel overly exposed. I am weary, I am insecure, I am small, and I don't like that. Where are my walls? Why can't I shove the feeling down, down deep inside as I have done before, why not anymore?

Self-discovery has been a bit overwhelming, but Pandora’s Box is open... and you all know once Pandora is released she will wreak havoc as she seeks. I know there is no going back, and with that I have regrets though I try not to live my life with regrets, yet they still are there. 

I wish I didn't answer his e-mail, I wish I did not wake him up before I left the morning after our first meeting. I wish I did not push for it. I wish for more but wishes are fairy tales and what is done, is done and Pandora has spoken so now I lie broken, hands to the air...cursing asking what have I done, what have I done to me.

There is no quick fix to this...I have been vulnerable before... though at that time I was able to withdraw into my own private world. This time is different, different than before. This time I have the knowledge to allow it to be more.

I cannot run, I cannot hide, I cannot disappear back into my inside. I am vulnerable and with that knowledge  I shall cry....and hopefully with the tears I can release my fears.

If You Can't Defeat it Fake it.

I am excited Friday I get to meet my subbie friend to see if we will click. If not I feel we could become good friends, and I could use that more than anything else at this point in my life.

I am also going to force myself to be in a better mood, I hate my grey days they seem to happening more then my happy sunny shine days.

So if I can't defeat it I will fake it; I will feel in color, so be it yellow abundant, with streaks of orange, and maybe a dab of red for a little fire... a wave of blue for some calm, green for balance, and rainbow sparkles for a little glint and shine... why not some pink for the little girls who just wants to come out and play. Yes I will fake colors for feelings.    

I Will Probably Piss People Off With This Post.

I was thinking of writing a post on slavery for a while, just because I have heard horror story's runny about the web. So called "doms" saying if I own you I can do anything as I please. Women abandoning their children, or worse. Working their ass off just to give it to a selfish abusing so called "dom". Prostituting for their so called "dom"...their "dom "taking away their self worth. Throwing them on the floor out of know where and choking them and when the slave acts as we all would act if one were being choked out of nowhere, we all would flee or fight it is a nature human reaction. And the so called "dom" says, you are no slave you don't trust me, and or you won't do what ever I ask for because you belong to me, so there for your life is mine.

Mind you before anyone starts to yell at me, I do realize that a true "Dom" would not do any of said above, a true "Dom" would respects his slaves hard limits, a good "Dom" would not put his slave in a position where she would feel she had to flee. I do understand that, I do...but the young women coming out don't, all they here is slave, and how much better a slave is then a sub. So then a predator sees that young doe like being...and traps her in his web...and takes her where no other sub has gone before. That makes me sad, and brings tears to my eyes. No human being should ever, ever feel that way...just to be called a slave.

I am not putting down all the healthy slave/Master relationships out there, many of the blogs I read do adhere to the Master/slave relationship...many of the women are in marriages and have started off with a good foundation. Many have educated themselves in what it is, and have talked to their Master thoroughly and their Masters respects them, and love them with out condition, that I do understand and say more power to you. And happy that one can find such an intense loving relationship.

 I just don't like the glorification of the word, I don't like the fact that to be a slave makes you better...not for any other reason then for the young naive women that come into this life style blindly, and end up living a life of misery and hell.

When I was with Sir, he did mention heading down that path and it did excite me. But I did get lost in the thoughts of the "what ifs"...there are things that are mine and mine alone...kids mine, mine, mine. House mine, mine, mine. My financial means, mine, mine, mine...my pets which I would never get rid of for anyone...mine mine mine.... my soul, my being, my essence, mineminemine... sounding a bit selfish here, I suppose I am.

Now giving of myself...I would love, taking care of, making Dom happy, I would love, being there, I would love...giving my body for him to use, it is his. But the rest is mine.

I would make a lousy slave...but I am an excellent sub, I think

And maybe my mind will change, maybe I misunderstood the word or the word is abused by the abusers and that scares me...because I am the type that takes things literally.

Erotic Paintings.

Art and Erotica 

My love of art is undeniable, I find beauty in all that surrounds me. My sexuality is a very big part of who I am. My sexuality is an expressen of my inner most being, it is an art form in its self and I so do love art in it's many forms. Art to me is passion, passion is what moves me, moves me to expression to express my fears, my joy, my love, my anger, my darkness and my light. 

With out passion, would there be art? 

With out art, could we express our passion? 

Art is part of my essences,  as is my passion, as is my sexuality. 

Add it all together and you get the

 mad mess that is me. 

 

The Want of Needing More.

Finding pleasure in pain

pain in the pleasure

Moving away

no need to embrace

One quick tug, one quick taste

Gone with the sleight of hand

the sleight of grace

The fear is there

it is near...

Feeling the uncertainty, it is so unclear

Quick and sharp

stinging and throbbing

So much pain, yet pleasure

So much pleasure, yet pain

Going and gone

longing for more

Then without warning

a sting, sharp and throbbing

each lash becoming longer and stronger

Wanting and craving

Needing and bagging

Stop, go, stay, get away, comeback

Sure and needy, wanting more

Begging and pleading, needing more

Sleight of hand

Sleight of grace

Quick and sharp was replaced

Standing still, knelling, crawling

gazing glassy eyes

wondering why

Here than gone

than back again, kneeling, pleading and bagging for more.    

The Ever Running Mind of Madness

acceptance:

not looking too much into what others think:

holding on to false perceptions:

looking for something that does not exist:

moving on:

letting go:

being just to be:

understanding:

Constantly searching for answers:

Questioning everything:

Learning to just relearn again:

On we go:

Will we ever know?

I wish I could just quiet my mind; it goes and goes, even in my dreams... I cannot escape my constant thinking and then over thinking.

Can't run away, it just follows, it is always there...echoing every word I have ever heard, questioning every answer I have ever known.

I have tried a lullaby to lull my mind into quiet, but my mind is too clever to fall for such a trick.

I have tried to numb it with too much wine, but wine won't do for my mind is much stronger than that of wine.

Oh and there were other substances that would quiet it for a bit, but then put my mind into confusion and confusion only led to more thoughts, thoughts of dread.

So I took to writing, though my mind still is going and going at a fast pace; my mind has finely found an outlet to sort out some of the chaos, and ease some of the dread. 

Who Am I?

Art by M.C. Escher 1960

  I have a darkness about me; it travels with me wherever I go...it is always in mind and thought. I have always had this darkness even as a child. It is protective; it wraps me with in warmth of power. This darkness is evident, but yet does not define me as a human. There are the defiant demons that grow restless in my head, that lead me at times to dread, but they enlighten me, and then they lead me to a brighter place.

  I have a lightness about me; it travels with me wherever I go... it is always in mind and thought. I have always had this lightness even as a child. It is protective; it wraps me with in coolness of fragility. This lightness is evident, but yet does not define me as a human. There are the obedient angles that bring content in my head, that leads me at times to tranquility, but they confuse me, and then they lead me to a more obscure place.

Sometimes the two mingle together, dark within the light… angels dancing with the demons, and in those times I feel  whole.