So I went out for groceries and toilet paper last week y'all...And fuck my life.
I went to eight stores. Eight. Two of them twice. On my second trip to the aforementioned two, I happened to arrive 15 minutes after the delivery truck. So I scored a $20 dollar pack of 12 rolls of toilet paper, and three whole bottles of hand sanitizer! By the time I made it the forty second walk to the store with hand sanitizer, the place I got toilet paper at was already out. By the time I got to the cashier at hand sanitizer store, the woman at the end of the line said hand sanitizer was gone.
In other news, I was fortunate enough to find eggs at the fourth store.
Ya'll...It's the self-perpetuating goddamn apocalypse out here. I haven't seen a bag of rice in two weeks.
This week I saw somebody loading up toilet paper and ran into the store. Grabbed a pack. My coworker and her family were down to 3 rolls and hadn't seen any on the shelves anywhere for nearly two weeks. Gave her the pack of toilet paper. It worked out. And it irritated me. It irritated me that things are so ridiculous out here that I, (who would normally rather lose a small body part than be late to work) felt the need to run into a grocery store 7 minutes before the start of my shift, to buy a product I didn't need, because someone I knew needed it and couldn't get it because the masses have devolved into a selfish hoard.
Phew, ok, that was a run on sentence even for my mouth.
I am fortunate enough to still be employed. For now. And...Not gonna lie, I'd really love to come home and stay there for three weeks, only leaving for walks in the woods or to pick up kiddo. I mean c'mon, I was MADE for social distancing! Talk about living the dream...I'm not staying home though. I'm going to work while I can, because I don't have anything to fall back on once I'm sent home, besides a bit of pto. Not enough pto.
It's weird because I have enough of a medical background to know that the bandana and various face coverings myself and my coworkers re-use, the gloves that we do the same with, and our massive step-up in sanitation measures, are truly inadequate. But I'm still out there. Like so many others. We don't want to be, and in an overall sense of practicality, we shouldn't be. But, ya'know, survival in all its forms and all.
Moving on...
Who are you guys reading these days? So many of the blogs I loved have faded away or have simply been taken over by other domains.
Who are you reading that this dusty sub might enjoy in the event that she is lucky/unfortunate enough to be sent home?
Showing posts with label Random ramblings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Random ramblings. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
Saturday, March 14, 2020
Lost their damn minds...
People done lost their damn minds out there.
Then they closed the schools and these fuckers went NUTS.
I waited in line 15 minutes to buy saran wrap. Guy in front of me bought 8 cans of comet right from beneath the sign, "as are most retailers, we are out of hand sanitizer and toilet paper. We apologize for the inconvenience and will restock as soon as we can".
Woman in line behind me yesterday bought 148 rolls of toilet paper.
Me today: Ummm...I'd just like one pack of toilet paper today so I can wipe my ass next week? Nope. Ummm...Tampons? Hahahahaha nope. Ok...one bottle of antibacterial hand soap that will last my household a month? Hahahahaha, Oh helllll no! Ok, one small bottle of hand sanitizer...? Hahahaha, good luck bitch, the bathrooms are closed because people are stealing all the toilet paper, and you think you get hand sanitizer???
People done lost their damn minds out there. And their buying doesn't even make sense! If you really think it's that bad, what you gonna do, live off toilet paper and hand sanitizer for three months??
Ok, so clearly I have had a rough week and am low on patience. I'm the only one at work who hasn't been out sick for a week, and there were only two of us today, which is our busiest day of the week. People are even more rude, demanding, and entitled than usual. I'm exhausted.
The nonsensical panic, selfishness, entitlement, and overall sense of personal importance overwhelming the portion of the human race that I'm dealing with right now is disgusting.
I want to believe that we can be good. That humanity has redeeming qualities. That there is something inherently beautiful and wondrous about who and what we are. But damn...
Then they closed the schools and these fuckers went NUTS.
I waited in line 15 minutes to buy saran wrap. Guy in front of me bought 8 cans of comet right from beneath the sign, "as are most retailers, we are out of hand sanitizer and toilet paper. We apologize for the inconvenience and will restock as soon as we can".
Woman in line behind me yesterday bought 148 rolls of toilet paper.
Me today: Ummm...I'd just like one pack of toilet paper today so I can wipe my ass next week? Nope. Ummm...Tampons? Hahahahaha nope. Ok...one bottle of antibacterial hand soap that will last my household a month? Hahahahaha, Oh helllll no! Ok, one small bottle of hand sanitizer...? Hahahaha, good luck bitch, the bathrooms are closed because people are stealing all the toilet paper, and you think you get hand sanitizer???
People done lost their damn minds out there. And their buying doesn't even make sense! If you really think it's that bad, what you gonna do, live off toilet paper and hand sanitizer for three months??
Ok, so clearly I have had a rough week and am low on patience. I'm the only one at work who hasn't been out sick for a week, and there were only two of us today, which is our busiest day of the week. People are even more rude, demanding, and entitled than usual. I'm exhausted.
The nonsensical panic, selfishness, entitlement, and overall sense of personal importance overwhelming the portion of the human race that I'm dealing with right now is disgusting.
I want to believe that we can be good. That humanity has redeeming qualities. That there is something inherently beautiful and wondrous about who and what we are. But damn...
Wednesday, March 11, 2020
What Do We Crave?
So I was sitting here thinking about a bunch of random stuff...Last night with her, our/my D/s struggles, the conversation I had with kiddo while we made banana bread tonight, random things I need and crave...And I got to thinking, what do we crave?
We boil our human cravings down to specific needs, desires, and emotions, because that's how we meet them, right? If you can't choose a specific need or desire, you can't really fill or address it.
Specifics are important. They provide us with definition which leads to the fulfillment we seek. Without specifics, such fulfillment can be elusive, and our pursuit of it merely confusing to ourselves and the people in our lives.
But what if, just what if, sometimes we are too specific and become so fixated on the exact thing we think we need and the way we think we have to get it, that we are unable achieve it simply because our view of what it is has become too narrow?
For instance, kiddo craves acceptance and confidence, but rightly enough, he's afraid that the confidence he has reached for in his pursuit of acceptance just kinda makes him act like an asshole. So how does he achieve his goals and circumvent the asshole bit (putting aside that there's a huge difference between cocky and confident, but he's eleven and we're both working our way through it all lol)?
Maybe, just maybe, he doesn't really need either of those things. Maybe he just needs to learn belief in himself and acceptance of who he is at his core. Maybe he just needs to learn to trust that feeling in himself when he does the right thing, regardless of what others say and think about it.
I have been called confident over and over. I'm not. I know I'm not. But oddly enough, I am accepted for my acceptance of self and my irritating inner drive to do what I believe is inherently right. I used to crave acceptance from others before I realized that what I really needed was acceptance from myself which allowed me to sleep at night.
Before I get too sucked into the details...
So many of these needs and desires we have as human beings come down to much more vast and basic things. And sometimes, when we allow ourselves to let go of our narrow and specific ideas of what those things are, we gain the ability actually achieve and experience them.
I need to submit. It is who I am. When I get sucked into the details of how exactly that submission should take form, I become unable to achieve it. When kiddo needs to believe in himself and translates that as having the acceptance of others, it becomes an elusive goal because it is then no longer based on a broader acceptance of himself and an unfailing ability to choose what he knows is right, but based upon how he wants people to react to that which he seeks within himself.
We all experience so many cravings and needs. Many of them are valid. But perhaps, just perhaps, sometimes, we get so sucked into the specifics of what we think they are and how we believe they must be achieved, that we miss the broader overall need that our cravings are rooted in. We therefor deny ourselves the ability to meet them because our focus has become to narrow.
.
What we crave, what we need, what we desire, is perhaps not always found in the specifics we are fixated upon, but in the broader realities which contain those specifics. And oftentimes we lose what we are reaching for simply because we are unable to broaden our definition enough to realize that we can have what we seek if we merely let go of our attachment to how it comes.
We boil our human cravings down to specific needs, desires, and emotions, because that's how we meet them, right? If you can't choose a specific need or desire, you can't really fill or address it.
Specifics are important. They provide us with definition which leads to the fulfillment we seek. Without specifics, such fulfillment can be elusive, and our pursuit of it merely confusing to ourselves and the people in our lives.
But what if, just what if, sometimes we are too specific and become so fixated on the exact thing we think we need and the way we think we have to get it, that we are unable achieve it simply because our view of what it is has become too narrow?
For instance, kiddo craves acceptance and confidence, but rightly enough, he's afraid that the confidence he has reached for in his pursuit of acceptance just kinda makes him act like an asshole. So how does he achieve his goals and circumvent the asshole bit (putting aside that there's a huge difference between cocky and confident, but he's eleven and we're both working our way through it all lol)?
Maybe, just maybe, he doesn't really need either of those things. Maybe he just needs to learn belief in himself and acceptance of who he is at his core. Maybe he just needs to learn to trust that feeling in himself when he does the right thing, regardless of what others say and think about it.
I have been called confident over and over. I'm not. I know I'm not. But oddly enough, I am accepted for my acceptance of self and my irritating inner drive to do what I believe is inherently right. I used to crave acceptance from others before I realized that what I really needed was acceptance from myself which allowed me to sleep at night.
Before I get too sucked into the details...
So many of these needs and desires we have as human beings come down to much more vast and basic things. And sometimes, when we allow ourselves to let go of our narrow and specific ideas of what those things are, we gain the ability actually achieve and experience them.
I need to submit. It is who I am. When I get sucked into the details of how exactly that submission should take form, I become unable to achieve it. When kiddo needs to believe in himself and translates that as having the acceptance of others, it becomes an elusive goal because it is then no longer based on a broader acceptance of himself and an unfailing ability to choose what he knows is right, but based upon how he wants people to react to that which he seeks within himself.
We all experience so many cravings and needs. Many of them are valid. But perhaps, just perhaps, sometimes, we get so sucked into the specifics of what we think they are and how we believe they must be achieved, that we miss the broader overall need that our cravings are rooted in. We therefor deny ourselves the ability to meet them because our focus has become to narrow.
.
What we crave, what we need, what we desire, is perhaps not always found in the specifics we are fixated upon, but in the broader realities which contain those specifics. And oftentimes we lose what we are reaching for simply because we are unable to broaden our definition enough to realize that we can have what we seek if we merely let go of our attachment to how it comes.
Saturday, March 7, 2020
Ten
So this blog will be ten years old tomorrow...One whole fucking decade.
A lot happens over the course of ten years. Hell, a lot happens over the course of one. I took a long hiatus from this place. And coming back...Well, it's stirred up a lot in my head. And it's been kinda lovely cuz, some of you are still here and that warms my heart to no end.
A decade of my story is here. Not all of it, and certainly very little of the last few years. But it is still my story, my history, my life.
I have been talking to one of my aunts. I never had any close family, but still, she's my family. And she remembers family history that no other living person knows. My youngest has expressed an interest in learning his family history, so I started talking to her about it and really acknowledging some interesting things about history and being alive.
Stories die when no one remembers them. Some day, everything we know and experienced will vanish unless someone else learns our story. Histories, lifetimes, people, their stories, the events during their lifetimes, these things only truly die when no one knows them and can pass them on, and no one listens or recalls the tales of those who do.
And these individual moments of failure, success, pain, joy, love, hate...All these little individual moments put together as a whole make up the world as we know and experience it.
We are all merely a drop in the ocean, but without all those little drops, there is no ocean.
This blog is ten years old. I turned 37 last week. Time flies, but it doesn't have to pass us by. We add to our story and those of people we interact with each and every day. Life is beautiful. It's fucking painful, and ugly, and glorious, and amazing. Our story is what we make it, how we choose to allow others to shape it, the memories and moments we share with others.
In the end, perhaps it matters not how long we are alive, but that we truly live in the time we are given. And if we are really lucky, we will touch even just one person enough for them to listen to our story. And remember.
Given the theme this post kind of took on its own, I would just like to mention Cat, of Be pleasing always. Her dom, HerLiege, recently posted that most of her blog was going to be deleted by tumbler.That brings me great sadness. Because, while Cat had already passed away when I found her blog years ago, her story meant something to me, it impacted my ideals and views, helped to shape so many of my ideas of submission. I can still call up that feeling in my heart that reading her words inspired, and the introspection and growth it evoked. Her story and who she was will always be beautiful to me. And because she shared her story, I will remember her. Always.
A lot happens over the course of ten years. Hell, a lot happens over the course of one. I took a long hiatus from this place. And coming back...Well, it's stirred up a lot in my head. And it's been kinda lovely cuz, some of you are still here and that warms my heart to no end.
A decade of my story is here. Not all of it, and certainly very little of the last few years. But it is still my story, my history, my life.
I have been talking to one of my aunts. I never had any close family, but still, she's my family. And she remembers family history that no other living person knows. My youngest has expressed an interest in learning his family history, so I started talking to her about it and really acknowledging some interesting things about history and being alive.
Stories die when no one remembers them. Some day, everything we know and experienced will vanish unless someone else learns our story. Histories, lifetimes, people, their stories, the events during their lifetimes, these things only truly die when no one knows them and can pass them on, and no one listens or recalls the tales of those who do.
And these individual moments of failure, success, pain, joy, love, hate...All these little individual moments put together as a whole make up the world as we know and experience it.
We are all merely a drop in the ocean, but without all those little drops, there is no ocean.
This blog is ten years old. I turned 37 last week. Time flies, but it doesn't have to pass us by. We add to our story and those of people we interact with each and every day. Life is beautiful. It's fucking painful, and ugly, and glorious, and amazing. Our story is what we make it, how we choose to allow others to shape it, the memories and moments we share with others.
In the end, perhaps it matters not how long we are alive, but that we truly live in the time we are given. And if we are really lucky, we will touch even just one person enough for them to listen to our story. And remember.
Given the theme this post kind of took on its own, I would just like to mention Cat, of Be pleasing always. Her dom, HerLiege, recently posted that most of her blog was going to be deleted by tumbler.That brings me great sadness. Because, while Cat had already passed away when I found her blog years ago, her story meant something to me, it impacted my ideals and views, helped to shape so many of my ideas of submission. I can still call up that feeling in my heart that reading her words inspired, and the introspection and growth it evoked. Her story and who she was will always be beautiful to me. And because she shared her story, I will remember her. Always.
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
Another Trip Around The Sun
Today marks my thirty-fourth trip around the sun. I'd be lying if I said that I greeted this day with an abundance of joy. More than anything, I think I greeted it with a healthy does of:
But the truth is, I won't go on my own. Hell, the truth is, Alpha isn't willing to leave her, and neither of us is willing to leave Omega. Home sounds a damn sight better than this hellhole though, not gonna lie.
It's a beautiful day outside. Omega's coming over, and I'm gonna watch all four of my guys cook me dinner. I'm fucked up, their fucked up, but I'm theirs and they are mine.
Truth is, they are my world, and my universe, and all the spaces in between. Four people in this world who would do anything for me, who I quite literally live for? Really, that's more than I could have ever asked for.
Truth is, I'm surrounded by my lost boys, and I'm just Tinkerbell from hell. And I'm more than okay with that. It's a good day because there's no other company I'd rather keep.
But the truth is, I won't go on my own. Hell, the truth is, Alpha isn't willing to leave her, and neither of us is willing to leave Omega. Home sounds a damn sight better than this hellhole though, not gonna lie.
It's a beautiful day outside. Omega's coming over, and I'm gonna watch all four of my guys cook me dinner. I'm fucked up, their fucked up, but I'm theirs and they are mine.
Truth is, they are my world, and my universe, and all the spaces in between. Four people in this world who would do anything for me, who I quite literally live for? Really, that's more than I could have ever asked for.
Truth is, I'm surrounded by my lost boys, and I'm just Tinkerbell from hell. And I'm more than okay with that. It's a good day because there's no other company I'd rather keep.
Saturday, February 11, 2017
Over It
I'm so fucking over it. All of it. Just. Fucking. Done.
I'm tired of being bullshitted. I'm tired of her having anything to do with my life. I'm tired of feeling misled and being treated like a failure for not trusting absolutely. I'm tired of living with the constant mental noise of half a million people and feeling so goddamned lonely. I'm tired of life. Just. Fucking Tired. I want to sleep forever and wake up three years ago. Want in one hand and shit in the other, eh?
I'm tired of being bullshitted. I'm tired of her having anything to do with my life. I'm tired of feeling misled and being treated like a failure for not trusting absolutely. I'm tired of living with the constant mental noise of half a million people and feeling so goddamned lonely. I'm tired of life. Just. Fucking Tired. I want to sleep forever and wake up three years ago. Want in one hand and shit in the other, eh?
Sunday, January 22, 2017
Lonely...
I know that I have comments to respond to. I have not forgotten you, I appreciate you, and I will reply.
Alpha has tasked me with finding a toy/mistress/someone else...
Yea...That really is all I'm gonna say about that one at the moment. Just needed to put it in print I guess.
I'm lonely. I've spent a good deal of my life alone, but this lonely is new. The truth is, at home, I was never actually alone. I cannot put words to those mountains and the magic and spirit which resides within them at the moment...
But I am lonely. Often I go into our room and sit on my knees in front of him...Yea, I'm looking for attention, I no longer care to dissect how my motivation for things is less than ideal--he spends that time on his phone or the computer anyways.
He is working primarily in a different state, only coming home a few nights a week, and I try not to leave the house. His primary focuses are work, sex, and other women--preferably ones with long term possibilities who want and enjoy sex as much as he does.
Before anyone who doesn't know me better gets going, making friends is not a solution--I am absolutely not in the least little bit interested in bringing anyone new into my life at all under any circumstances. I don't want friends, and I didn't really have them back at home.
I don't like people and they don't much like me either. The truth is, I really am a mouthy bitch with a crappy attitude, and I simply do not care to moderate my responses in an attempt to make myself halfway palatable any more.
Lonely kind of sucks. And sometimes life occurrences/circumstances, exacerbate the sense of loneliness.
So why whine if I have no desire or intention of trying to find people who might dissipate the loneliness? Maybe because the knowledge itself of people knowing how I feel eases the lonely just a little. Maybe because I actually think that I'm not whining, just expressing how I feel at the moment. Maybe because, who the fuck knows?
We had an argument the day before yesterday. He needed to go out of state for work and decided to spend the night so that he could get more done. I said a storm was coming and I wished he wouldn't because I wouldn't see him before Monday or Tuesday. He assured me that he would be able to make it home.
Today, I showered, shaved, moisturized, painted my nails, and contemplated his suggestion of a new hair color which happens to match that of a girl he has a thing for.
Not surprisingly, given the weather forecast, the road was closed tonight. He offered to come home via an alternate route, but this isn't our first time on the merry-go-round--getting home at one am means he's home for a day, asleep, then heads back out the next day. We agreed that he might as well just stay where he was.
It's lonely here...
Sometimes I wish that he'd just scoop me up for coffee, or to go sit on a rock, or go for a drive and stare at the sunset...Then I realize that I wouldn't be happy with that anyways because I'm never happy with anything and he'd just spend that time on his phone regardless...
I have always been conscious of feeling critical of him in these pages. Beyond that it's against my fiber to publicly critique my owner, I have always disliked women who wander around bitching about the men they married.
The truth as we are now, is that I'm a shitty sub with a drinking problem, he's far less interested in me than he himself wants to believe or admit, not winning any dominant awards; and we each seem to feel like we put out more effort than the other.
It's lonely here...
Alpha has tasked me with finding a toy/mistress/someone else...
 |
| And how this works when one's limits are not their own, we are discovering... |
Yea...That really is all I'm gonna say about that one at the moment. Just needed to put it in print I guess.
I'm lonely. I've spent a good deal of my life alone, but this lonely is new. The truth is, at home, I was never actually alone. I cannot put words to those mountains and the magic and spirit which resides within them at the moment...
But I am lonely. Often I go into our room and sit on my knees in front of him...Yea, I'm looking for attention, I no longer care to dissect how my motivation for things is less than ideal--he spends that time on his phone or the computer anyways.
He is working primarily in a different state, only coming home a few nights a week, and I try not to leave the house. His primary focuses are work, sex, and other women--preferably ones with long term possibilities who want and enjoy sex as much as he does.
Before anyone who doesn't know me better gets going, making friends is not a solution--I am absolutely not in the least little bit interested in bringing anyone new into my life at all under any circumstances. I don't want friends, and I didn't really have them back at home.
I don't like people and they don't much like me either. The truth is, I really am a mouthy bitch with a crappy attitude, and I simply do not care to moderate my responses in an attempt to make myself halfway palatable any more.
Lonely kind of sucks. And sometimes life occurrences/circumstances, exacerbate the sense of loneliness.
So why whine if I have no desire or intention of trying to find people who might dissipate the loneliness? Maybe because the knowledge itself of people knowing how I feel eases the lonely just a little. Maybe because I actually think that I'm not whining, just expressing how I feel at the moment. Maybe because, who the fuck knows?
We had an argument the day before yesterday. He needed to go out of state for work and decided to spend the night so that he could get more done. I said a storm was coming and I wished he wouldn't because I wouldn't see him before Monday or Tuesday. He assured me that he would be able to make it home.
Today, I showered, shaved, moisturized, painted my nails, and contemplated his suggestion of a new hair color which happens to match that of a girl he has a thing for.
Not surprisingly, given the weather forecast, the road was closed tonight. He offered to come home via an alternate route, but this isn't our first time on the merry-go-round--getting home at one am means he's home for a day, asleep, then heads back out the next day. We agreed that he might as well just stay where he was.
It's lonely here...
Sometimes I wish that he'd just scoop me up for coffee, or to go sit on a rock, or go for a drive and stare at the sunset...Then I realize that I wouldn't be happy with that anyways because I'm never happy with anything and he'd just spend that time on his phone regardless...
I have always been conscious of feeling critical of him in these pages. Beyond that it's against my fiber to publicly critique my owner, I have always disliked women who wander around bitching about the men they married.
The truth as we are now, is that I'm a shitty sub with a drinking problem, he's far less interested in me than he himself wants to believe or admit, not winning any dominant awards; and we each seem to feel like we put out more effort than the other.
It's lonely here...
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Sewage Drenched Soul
A long time ago, he agreed not to read through my drafts folder. It was important to me, and I appreciated that. Being able to have unformed thoughts of my own, let them sit and refine them, or just forget them...He forgot that agreement, and made a new one--he now reads through my drafts on a regular basis. I think.
I learned this when he said something about one of them. It wasn't unkind, or critical, light teasing really...And kaput. I haven't made it past the beginning of a draft since. Honestly, I'm really not sure what happened with me there...
It is not a nice feeling when the words to give that voice form will not come. Clearly, I've been there a lot over the course of the last two years.
The truth? The truth is, I'm scared. No, that's the relative truth. The absolute truth is that I'm fucking terrified because I have never seen or experienced Alpha like this before. And I've been hanging in there for a while, but I feel like I'm in quicksand, and all I have left sticking out at this point is my fingertips.
The truth? The truth is, I am no longer clean. Before ttwd, I spent years trying to scrub my own skin off just to get that feeling of cleanliness within my being. Alpha and ttwd accomplished it for me.
That feeling, that particular sensation of being, is gone.
I look at the skin on my arms and contemplate the edge of the knife much as I once did, I just know Alpha will be terribly disappointed and beat my ass, so I don't do anything to feed the desire to draw my own blood. I stand under the shower head, water beyond the edge of comfort, before the edge of burn, trying to scrub my soul clean from the outside in. Even though I am well aware from experience, that it is not going to do a damn thing.
There can be a purity in the darkness. Or it can be...Just the sewage of a broken soul. I miss the purity in our darkness, and I am so fucking over drowning in the sewage of her twisted soul. And I'm fucking lost. For a while, after I screwed everything up, when it was too late, I tried to maintain a light within the darkness. But I feel like it ate me, All of the unclean things from past, present, and future, fucking her, collided in my soul one day. It was an innocuous moment, one I did not even notice until I felt that old familiar feeling of a filthy soul, and realized that I was no longer what I had tried so hard to be.
Clean.
He doesn't know it, and probably wouldn't believe it, but that is one of the gifts Omega gives us when we feel him--that purity in the darkness, which we once so strongly possessed. And the sad thing is, that kind of filthy that she tried so hard to imprint on us, is like an STD--it will fuck you up, and if you're lucky, a round of antibiotics will make it go away, if not, you got lifelong, life threatening shit that you can pass along to anyone you are with in the future. It can be with you forever. I'll drain my veins and set my fucking soul on fire before I let that stay with us forever, before I'll spread it to another.
There was a time it meant more to me than anything, that feeling of cleanliness. And even now...Fuck, for so long, it's all I ever wanted, and I had it...And I let in the creature that tainted it.
I'm not a great person. Yea, I like to think that I'm a pretty good person, but I'm not that good...If she was on the side of the road dying, I would keep on driving by. I should be saying that out of anger, all worked up and pissed off--that would make such a statement okay. Because that's the kind of thing people say about each other after they break up, but if it was put to the test, they'd stop anyways. But I'm not. And I would not.
Thing is, I'm not really that good. I do genuinely mean it, with or without active feelings of angst towards her.
For a total stranger? Sure, I'd stop the car, throw on a pair of gloves, and do my best to save their fucking life. Because life is precious, and no one ever wants to look back and say that they allowed another soul to slip away simply becuase they could not be bothered to try.
For her? No. Her life, her sewage drenched soul, her vampire heart...Just. No. Never In any way, shape, or form. No matter what. As terrible as it sounds, I would feel no remorse. And I'm okay with what that says about me as a human being. I know it's not pretty.
Clean...Some people grow up wanting to be rich, or successful, or happy, or I don'tfuckingknowwhat when they finally grow the fuck up, But me? I just wanted to be clean. That's it. My life's goal was to wash the filth off my soul. Scrub the dirt out of my fucking being...The sick shit older men left me with, everything that stained me. And we accomplished it. And it was fucking beautiful. And I fucking miss it.
She sullied us and our connection in a way that I cannot put into words. But us , ttwd, I think that perhaps this time it will not scrub away the stains. And it was the only thing I found that ever could.
I learned this when he said something about one of them. It wasn't unkind, or critical, light teasing really...And kaput. I haven't made it past the beginning of a draft since. Honestly, I'm really not sure what happened with me there...
It is not a nice feeling when the words to give that voice form will not come. Clearly, I've been there a lot over the course of the last two years.
The truth? The truth is, I'm scared. No, that's the relative truth. The absolute truth is that I'm fucking terrified because I have never seen or experienced Alpha like this before. And I've been hanging in there for a while, but I feel like I'm in quicksand, and all I have left sticking out at this point is my fingertips.
The truth? The truth is, I am no longer clean. Before ttwd, I spent years trying to scrub my own skin off just to get that feeling of cleanliness within my being. Alpha and ttwd accomplished it for me.
That feeling, that particular sensation of being, is gone.
I look at the skin on my arms and contemplate the edge of the knife much as I once did, I just know Alpha will be terribly disappointed and beat my ass, so I don't do anything to feed the desire to draw my own blood. I stand under the shower head, water beyond the edge of comfort, before the edge of burn, trying to scrub my soul clean from the outside in. Even though I am well aware from experience, that it is not going to do a damn thing.
There can be a purity in the darkness. Or it can be...Just the sewage of a broken soul. I miss the purity in our darkness, and I am so fucking over drowning in the sewage of her twisted soul. And I'm fucking lost. For a while, after I screwed everything up, when it was too late, I tried to maintain a light within the darkness. But I feel like it ate me, All of the unclean things from past, present, and future, fucking her, collided in my soul one day. It was an innocuous moment, one I did not even notice until I felt that old familiar feeling of a filthy soul, and realized that I was no longer what I had tried so hard to be.
Clean.
He doesn't know it, and probably wouldn't believe it, but that is one of the gifts Omega gives us when we feel him--that purity in the darkness, which we once so strongly possessed. And the sad thing is, that kind of filthy that she tried so hard to imprint on us, is like an STD--it will fuck you up, and if you're lucky, a round of antibiotics will make it go away, if not, you got lifelong, life threatening shit that you can pass along to anyone you are with in the future. It can be with you forever. I'll drain my veins and set my fucking soul on fire before I let that stay with us forever, before I'll spread it to another.
There was a time it meant more to me than anything, that feeling of cleanliness. And even now...Fuck, for so long, it's all I ever wanted, and I had it...And I let in the creature that tainted it.
I'm not a great person. Yea, I like to think that I'm a pretty good person, but I'm not that good...If she was on the side of the road dying, I would keep on driving by. I should be saying that out of anger, all worked up and pissed off--that would make such a statement okay. Because that's the kind of thing people say about each other after they break up, but if it was put to the test, they'd stop anyways. But I'm not. And I would not.
Thing is, I'm not really that good. I do genuinely mean it, with or without active feelings of angst towards her.
For a total stranger? Sure, I'd stop the car, throw on a pair of gloves, and do my best to save their fucking life. Because life is precious, and no one ever wants to look back and say that they allowed another soul to slip away simply becuase they could not be bothered to try.
For her? No. Her life, her sewage drenched soul, her vampire heart...Just. No. Never In any way, shape, or form. No matter what. As terrible as it sounds, I would feel no remorse. And I'm okay with what that says about me as a human being. I know it's not pretty.
Clean...Some people grow up wanting to be rich, or successful, or happy, or I don'tfuckingknowwhat when they finally grow the fuck up, But me? I just wanted to be clean. That's it. My life's goal was to wash the filth off my soul. Scrub the dirt out of my fucking being...The sick shit older men left me with, everything that stained me. And we accomplished it. And it was fucking beautiful. And I fucking miss it.
She sullied us and our connection in a way that I cannot put into words. But us , ttwd, I think that perhaps this time it will not scrub away the stains. And it was the only thing I found that ever could.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
I Am Who I Am...
One of my bosses is really pissing me off. I almost quit. But then Alpha asked me to stay. And those stupid glorious kids with all their dreams of changing the world and pioneering something great keep working their asses off.
So I stay.
The thing is...The boss wants me to be something I'm not. He's trying to fit me into one of the boxes he has been able to apply to everyone else he has ever dealt with.
But I don't. I'm not. And I'm far too tired for any new forms of evolution beyond trying desperately not to fall off the very steep learning curve.
In marketing and business, there's always a hook. People have currency--money, success, fame, etc. I don't care about those things. And having a hook in everyone is very important to him. So he tries different approaches with me, and each one is successively worse than the one before. It went from ego stroking (also not good currency for me) to the power play of reminding me of my place in the food chain and putting me squarely in it. Followed with some irritating ego stroking. It was not well received.
I have never made and claims about being driven, about being a business woman, about being successful, about wanting to pioneer new pathways in any industry.
I said, yes--I'm good at this. Yes you need someone to do it. Sure, I'll do it to the best of my ability, but I'm trying to figure this shit out as I go.
I am who I am. Regardless of what you make or who you think you own, who you know or what successes you have had.
I have more respect for the people I run than I do for the random millionaire or politician who trots through--he's sure as hell not working until 10:00 at night with me, and some of these kids will crawl through the trenches with me until they can't even see straight. Because respect is earned.
I have changed a lot over the course of the last year. But I will not compromise who I am for money or recognition, or other people.
I don't quit because Alpha asks me to stay. Because I can't abandon my crew. Because I help to ensure that those kids have a job to come back to every day. Because Alpha asks me to stay.
But I would rather be fired than become, or pretend to become, something I am not. Because I am who I am, and in the end? That is all any of us really gets to say that we have.
Really? I just want to go home and sleep for a hundred years. Home home, not this house we live in home. Home where the stars whisper in your ears and the moon caresses your skin. Where the trees know your name and none of the people are ever trying to be the same.
It has taken me a ridiculously long time to define my currency.
My currency is love and loyalty. They cannot be bought or sold, they cannot be quantified by numbers on a spreadsheet, or defined only by measurable output.
It is there when Alpha asks me to give this thing one more genuine shot. It is there with the girl who puts her head down, never complaining, and works with me until long after the sun goes down. It is in the kid running out the door after a ten hour shift on his way to his second job. It is there when my crew tells me I should go home and get some sleep--not because they want to go home early, but because they know that after their ten hours in a day, I'm already in fourteen.
So I stay.
The thing is...The boss wants me to be something I'm not. He's trying to fit me into one of the boxes he has been able to apply to everyone else he has ever dealt with.
But I don't. I'm not. And I'm far too tired for any new forms of evolution beyond trying desperately not to fall off the very steep learning curve.
In marketing and business, there's always a hook. People have currency--money, success, fame, etc. I don't care about those things. And having a hook in everyone is very important to him. So he tries different approaches with me, and each one is successively worse than the one before. It went from ego stroking (also not good currency for me) to the power play of reminding me of my place in the food chain and putting me squarely in it. Followed with some irritating ego stroking. It was not well received.
I have never made and claims about being driven, about being a business woman, about being successful, about wanting to pioneer new pathways in any industry.
I said, yes--I'm good at this. Yes you need someone to do it. Sure, I'll do it to the best of my ability, but I'm trying to figure this shit out as I go.
I am who I am. Regardless of what you make or who you think you own, who you know or what successes you have had.
I have more respect for the people I run than I do for the random millionaire or politician who trots through--he's sure as hell not working until 10:00 at night with me, and some of these kids will crawl through the trenches with me until they can't even see straight. Because respect is earned.
I have changed a lot over the course of the last year. But I will not compromise who I am for money or recognition, or other people.
I don't quit because Alpha asks me to stay. Because I can't abandon my crew. Because I help to ensure that those kids have a job to come back to every day. Because Alpha asks me to stay.
But I would rather be fired than become, or pretend to become, something I am not. Because I am who I am, and in the end? That is all any of us really gets to say that we have.
Really? I just want to go home and sleep for a hundred years. Home home, not this house we live in home. Home where the stars whisper in your ears and the moon caresses your skin. Where the trees know your name and none of the people are ever trying to be the same.
It has taken me a ridiculously long time to define my currency.
My currency is love and loyalty. They cannot be bought or sold, they cannot be quantified by numbers on a spreadsheet, or defined only by measurable output.
It is there when Alpha asks me to give this thing one more genuine shot. It is there with the girl who puts her head down, never complaining, and works with me until long after the sun goes down. It is in the kid running out the door after a ten hour shift on his way to his second job. It is there when my crew tells me I should go home and get some sleep--not because they want to go home early, but because they know that after their ten hours in a day, I'm already in fourteen.
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Toast and the Bathroom
With my face pressed into the bathroom floor I was reminded of the importance of my abandoned beliefs in housekeeping. The defense I offered myself that I had worked 60 hours this week just didn't seem to satisfy me like it should have, as I attempted to contemplate the layers of dust on the baseboards and the hair dye I had obviously missed on the bottom of the sink, accompanied clearly by an unforgivably wide streak of toothpaste.
It was going to be the mother of all orgasms. Right there on the floor of our decidedly dirty bathroom. Until a child wandered up to the bedroom door asking for toast.
Toast.
I may have sunk my teeth into Alpha's shoulder and muttered something about wanting to be one of those species that eat their young.
Maybe.
But it was still good. And hot. And kind of gross because really, I do need to clean the bathroom. But maybe that was part of the appeal and it fed the part of me that thrives on humiliation. Just a little bit.
It was going to be the mother of all orgasms. Right there on the floor of our decidedly dirty bathroom. Until a child wandered up to the bedroom door asking for toast.
Toast.
I may have sunk my teeth into Alpha's shoulder and muttered something about wanting to be one of those species that eat their young.
Maybe.
But it was still good. And hot. And kind of gross because really, I do need to clean the bathroom. But maybe that was part of the appeal and it fed the part of me that thrives on humiliation. Just a little bit.
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Tired
I was sad to log on and see that I had completely missed love our lurkers day. In all fairness, I've missed a bunch of other stuff too--a birthday, spelling homework, cub scout events, the death of my mom's cat, a bunch of sunsets (though I do tend to see sunrise on my way to work), all the overtime pay I'm not making, breakfasts, lunches, dinners (my kids had ramen for dinner the other night. Ramen. I shall say no more).
I'm so tired. Bone tired.
We have one of these at work:
Unfortunately, this person is a manager. And he's a fucking idiot.
My actual job is flying up on me. Quickly. Like two weeks early quickly. It's complex and complicated, there's lot going on. It requires come forethought, and I have no time for this thought. That freaks me out--I have to plan ahead, or things don't work right or me. I was supposed to have months to figure this all out, not a few days. But we have this manager...He's a fucking idiot. I tried to drop all my cleaning up of his messes about a week ago. You know, so I could concentrate on not being the next disaster zone. Alpha wouldn't let me. It's a safe assumption that we haven't been getting along swimmingly these days....
I spent half of my day discovering and trying to track down mistakes. Just like I spent my whole day before that and the week before that, and the rest of the month doing. So I'm still behind on all of those other things I was supposed to do yesterday that I've been doing for months which don't relate to my actual job but are very important.
I am so friggin tired. And did I mention a bit freaked out? I really do not love my job. Most days, I don't even like it. This is not a life that I ever wanted to live. It's not necessarily a bad life, just not one I ever dreamed of or would have chosen. And it takes everything.
I have felt something lately though...Something deep and compelling, almost forgotten, something pushed deep down and hidden...I feel it in that moment when he pulls me close as if I am merely an extension of himself, in that moment when a dominant personality wanders by and I push down that funny little flutter, in that moment when I am reminded that being his is not what most people believe it to be.
*I think I wrote this a few weeks ago. Dunno really because I'm pretty sure I missed a bunch of those too--I just don't know where they went. And that feeling? Yea...
I'm so tired. Bone tired.
We have one of these at work:
My actual job is flying up on me. Quickly. Like two weeks early quickly. It's complex and complicated, there's lot going on. It requires come forethought, and I have no time for this thought. That freaks me out--I have to plan ahead, or things don't work right or me. I was supposed to have months to figure this all out, not a few days. But we have this manager...He's a fucking idiot. I tried to drop all my cleaning up of his messes about a week ago. You know, so I could concentrate on not being the next disaster zone. Alpha wouldn't let me. It's a safe assumption that we haven't been getting along swimmingly these days....
I spent half of my day discovering and trying to track down mistakes. Just like I spent my whole day before that and the week before that, and the rest of the month doing. So I'm still behind on all of those other things I was supposed to do yesterday that I've been doing for months which don't relate to my actual job but are very important.
I am so friggin tired. And did I mention a bit freaked out? I really do not love my job. Most days, I don't even like it. This is not a life that I ever wanted to live. It's not necessarily a bad life, just not one I ever dreamed of or would have chosen. And it takes everything.
I have felt something lately though...Something deep and compelling, almost forgotten, something pushed deep down and hidden...I feel it in that moment when he pulls me close as if I am merely an extension of himself, in that moment when a dominant personality wanders by and I push down that funny little flutter, in that moment when I am reminded that being his is not what most people believe it to be.
*I think I wrote this a few weeks ago. Dunno really because I'm pretty sure I missed a bunch of those too--I just don't know where they went. And that feeling? Yea...
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Ramblings of the Most Boring Kind
Has is really been more than two weeks since I last came here to ramble?? Since I cannot seem to keep track of the days, I will take Blogger's word for it. No wonder I woke up missing it here. Not even here really...I have nothing interesting to say or share, or even to vent. Sure, I could do lots of venting, but its not interesting. I miss you though. The people who come here. And I miss roaming around Blogland in my free time. Free time...Ha. 55-60 hour work weeks just don't seem to offer much of that!
I have been waking up with a case of the funks lately. Well, for the few minutes I have to think about those funks anyways.
I'm tempted to do my normal bit and run straight to the paperwork. My deadline got moved up...In no uncertain terms I was informed just how unhappy our general manager would be and how freely he would make sure that no one else was happy if I missed the deadline. I refrained from pointing out that, given the people he's talking about, very few of us would not return the favor...
My son asked if I'd get fired for taking a day off. I laughed--not this week kiddo, not this week. This week my job is the most secure it will ever be because 90% of the paperwork this company needs to get going lives only on my desktop at the moment. It's a terrible thing really. We'll see how well (or badly) I have done after the state audits them. I am going to audit them myself first. You know, with all that extra time I have to do so before someone has a hissy of epic proportions...Wish me luck.
Someone gave us a very nice bottle of champagne (I can't even spell that) for our anniversary, I'm saving it until after we see how all my paperwork pans out. My backup plan, should it go south, is Tequila. Sounds reasonable, right?
Did I mention that I miss you? I miss the interaction, the visitors, the knowledge that my words are never lonely because there's always someone there to read them, someone there who knows that they exist, someone who understands what they mean when they pour out of me.
He read here the other day, and he was not happy with what he saw. We both have good, if very stressful jobs. Somehow I fell into a position by default of starting to work for free because it had to be done, knowledge, drive, and brains, that I would never have gotten back home. He's got his dream job. The kids are healthy and mostly happy. I stick to my food budget, but I don't add the pennies. Life is not bad here.
There's this concept, well lots of them really, but one in particular that I doubt I'll ever adapt to. In fact, I hope that I do not, and I certainly wouldn't wish for my children to do so. It's about seeing people not as who they are, but how they exist as assets--it's not about valuing people for who they are, but only what they can do for you. And I don't like it. I think its a crappy approach to humanity.
Life is not bad here...
Yet...It's still not "my" life.
Odd feeling, that...
I actually took yesterday off, so I had better make up for it today.
I have been waking up with a case of the funks lately. Well, for the few minutes I have to think about those funks anyways.
I'm tempted to do my normal bit and run straight to the paperwork. My deadline got moved up...In no uncertain terms I was informed just how unhappy our general manager would be and how freely he would make sure that no one else was happy if I missed the deadline. I refrained from pointing out that, given the people he's talking about, very few of us would not return the favor...
My son asked if I'd get fired for taking a day off. I laughed--not this week kiddo, not this week. This week my job is the most secure it will ever be because 90% of the paperwork this company needs to get going lives only on my desktop at the moment. It's a terrible thing really. We'll see how well (or badly) I have done after the state audits them. I am going to audit them myself first. You know, with all that extra time I have to do so before someone has a hissy of epic proportions...Wish me luck.
Someone gave us a very nice bottle of champagne (I can't even spell that) for our anniversary, I'm saving it until after we see how all my paperwork pans out. My backup plan, should it go south, is Tequila. Sounds reasonable, right?
Did I mention that I miss you? I miss the interaction, the visitors, the knowledge that my words are never lonely because there's always someone there to read them, someone there who knows that they exist, someone who understands what they mean when they pour out of me.
He read here the other day, and he was not happy with what he saw. We both have good, if very stressful jobs. Somehow I fell into a position by default of starting to work for free because it had to be done, knowledge, drive, and brains, that I would never have gotten back home. He's got his dream job. The kids are healthy and mostly happy. I stick to my food budget, but I don't add the pennies. Life is not bad here.
There's this concept, well lots of them really, but one in particular that I doubt I'll ever adapt to. In fact, I hope that I do not, and I certainly wouldn't wish for my children to do so. It's about seeing people not as who they are, but how they exist as assets--it's not about valuing people for who they are, but only what they can do for you. And I don't like it. I think its a crappy approach to humanity.
Life is not bad here...
Yet...It's still not "my" life.
Odd feeling, that...
I actually took yesterday off, so I had better make up for it today.
Tuesday, February 24, 2015
Not Nearly Enough...
I don't have nearly enough of these people in my life out here, and by not nearly enough, I mean any at all.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
A Bottle of Wine and I...
Alpha passed out early (working seven days a week does that to a person), the kids are spending their last few minutes watching U-Tube videos of spider-man, and I...
Am going to curl up on the couch with the remains of a bottle of wine, watch The Walking Dead, and pretend that everything is alright for one whole hour.
Cheers!
Am going to curl up on the couch with the remains of a bottle of wine, watch The Walking Dead, and pretend that everything is alright for one whole hour.
Cheers!
Thursday, November 20, 2014
And the Cat Was Dancing in the Kitchen...
I've been awake since 2:30 AM. In my defense, I waited until 4 to get up and make coffee. I was tired, really. But I woke up to go pee (in the toilet even, tyvm) and...
Plus, the cat was dancing in the kitchen, and I have 99 legitimate things to worry about on top of a million illegitimate issues, so naturally there was no going back to sleep.
I'm sure there's something useful I should be doing, because there are never enough hours in the day, but maybe there is sometimes if you get up in the middle of the night...
I did find this:
Not exactly productive, but still kind of funny.
I should say that I'm not a mess. And if I did say it, I should totally mean it, but I wouldn't really mean it, so I would totally be lying.
I worry about leaving my mom.
I worry about sending my kids to a school with a thousand students (this one's kicking my ass).
I worry about next month, what I forgot to do yesterday, what might happen tomorrow.
If it can or cannot be named, I worry about it.
Oh yea, found another good shot of my life (why do the boys get all the good pictures?)
Ooh, shots...If I pretend that I didn't go to bed, is it still too early to start drinking? I mean, after all, it is dark...
Plus, the cat was dancing in the kitchen, and I have 99 legitimate things to worry about on top of a million illegitimate issues, so naturally there was no going back to sleep.
I'm sure there's something useful I should be doing, because there are never enough hours in the day, but maybe there is sometimes if you get up in the middle of the night...
I did find this:
Not exactly productive, but still kind of funny.
I should say that I'm not a mess. And if I did say it, I should totally mean it, but I wouldn't really mean it, so I would totally be lying.
I worry about leaving my mom.
I worry about sending my kids to a school with a thousand students (this one's kicking my ass).
I worry about next month, what I forgot to do yesterday, what might happen tomorrow.
If it can or cannot be named, I worry about it.
Yep, that's me. If I was guy. And the hose wasn't frozen. Because winter.
Oh yea, found another good shot of my life (why do the boys get all the good pictures?)
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Meh
And that, my friends, is all I have to say today.
Okay, well maybe just one more...
And just so winter doesn't think she's off the hook...
Saturday, November 15, 2014
Changing My Motto
I have lived in one place for far too long--it is becoming painfully apparent that my life's packing experience consists of throwing all my shit into the back of a truck in the midst of a knockdown dragout fight with some parental figure.
I'm changing my life motto...
I'm changing my life motto...
Friday, November 14, 2014
Thank You
Normally, I spend Love Our Lurkers day roaming Blogland and saying hello everywhere. I didn't do any of my usual roaming this time, and there was even two days of opportunity! I'm sure I have valid excuses, really, I do! Yea...
I seem to lurk more often than not these days, and if you have a Wordpress blog, I'm always lurking--long story short, Wordpress hates me and will not allow me to open my big mouth at all. Ever.
Rambling on, I know. Getting to the point, I appreciate Blogland. I appreciate all of the blogs I read, and all the people who visit me here. Even when I spend my visitation time silently.
So thank you Bloggers--you have inspired me, made me laugh and cry, inspired introspection and thoughts that I normally wouldn't have had. You have made me feel...Not alone. And for that, I am deeply grateful.
And to my readers? You amaze me. Sometimes I think you're all crazy for sticking with me, but I'm not complaining. You have made this blog something it might not have been, you have given me a platform on which I am heard. I give you my secrets, my random insanities, my deeply held beliefs, my soapbox rants, and you listen (figuratively).
So, thank you Blogland.
I wish I could say that I'll be contaminating your dashboards with daily posts, and returning to the more regular posting schedule that I used to keep...But life is insanity. We're taking a huge leap of faith with our lives, and such things do seem to require an inordinate amount of time and effort. But I'll continue to muse and complain with some regularity, I'm sure. So for now, it's pretty much life as usual...
I seem to lurk more often than not these days, and if you have a Wordpress blog, I'm always lurking--long story short, Wordpress hates me and will not allow me to open my big mouth at all. Ever.
Rambling on, I know. Getting to the point, I appreciate Blogland. I appreciate all of the blogs I read, and all the people who visit me here. Even when I spend my visitation time silently.
So thank you Bloggers--you have inspired me, made me laugh and cry, inspired introspection and thoughts that I normally wouldn't have had. You have made me feel...Not alone. And for that, I am deeply grateful.
And to my readers? You amaze me. Sometimes I think you're all crazy for sticking with me, but I'm not complaining. You have made this blog something it might not have been, you have given me a platform on which I am heard. I give you my secrets, my random insanities, my deeply held beliefs, my soapbox rants, and you listen (figuratively).
So, thank you Blogland.
I wish I could say that I'll be contaminating your dashboards with daily posts, and returning to the more regular posting schedule that I used to keep...But life is insanity. We're taking a huge leap of faith with our lives, and such things do seem to require an inordinate amount of time and effort. But I'll continue to muse and complain with some regularity, I'm sure. So for now, it's pretty much life as usual...
Friday, November 7, 2014
Like A Quiet Storm
He rolled in at 3 AM like a quiet storm. Sweeping the blanket off my naked shoulders, he reminded me in no uncertain terms of what we are.
I drank him in, resting at his feet as we discussed the future in all of its magnificent uncertainty.
The moon hung huge in the sky as we discussed humanity and the politics of man. A thousand miles to prove that might is not right, and anything worth doing is worth fighting for. And so he takes advantage of the knowledge that I live for a noble cause, I love to fight for the underdog, and we are the sum of what we believe to be true.
His hand stroked my head as he said, we know not what the future will bring, but baby I found something new for me and you. If I go, you will come with me and fight for what you believe to be true.
As the stars faded into the coming day, with a thousand miles behind him, he touched me like a quiet storm.
Slivers of light slipped quietly through the cracks in the sky as he played my body like an instrument of glorious sin.
My transgressions poured forth, confessions in the dark begging for absolution as he reminded me that I belong to him.
I drank him in, resting at his feet as we discussed the future in all of its magnificent uncertainty.
The moon hung huge in the sky as we discussed humanity and the politics of man. A thousand miles to prove that might is not right, and anything worth doing is worth fighting for. And so he takes advantage of the knowledge that I live for a noble cause, I love to fight for the underdog, and we are the sum of what we believe to be true.
His hand stroked my head as he said, we know not what the future will bring, but baby I found something new for me and you. If I go, you will come with me and fight for what you believe to be true.
As the stars faded into the coming day, with a thousand miles behind him, he touched me like a quiet storm.
Slivers of light slipped quietly through the cracks in the sky as he played my body like an instrument of glorious sin.
My transgressions poured forth, confessions in the dark begging for absolution as he reminded me that I belong to him.
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| Image source unkown |
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Tracking Time
I have kept myself busy this week:
I took a razor blade to the bottom of my pans
I cleaned the desk *shudder--it's like checking the mail ten times in one day
I did the ever magically replicating laundry
I dusted my books and shined up chess trophies
I took down pictures and cleaned the backs and frames
I cleaned the keyboard--with a Q-tip
I pulled specials off of their shelves and dusted them down
I folded all of the laundry.
I realized that I keep time by his calls. My day is counted away by the space between rings, the moments of silence broken by his words...
And so I wait for my fix. Hours meaningless and defined by the feeling in my veins, the beat of my heart, the race for the phone. The sound of his voice from a thousand miles away...
So I drown in the tragic majesty of life, the beautiful uncertainty of being. As I track time by the space between his calls...
I took a razor blade to the bottom of my pans
I cleaned the desk *shudder--it's like checking the mail ten times in one day
I did the ever magically replicating laundry
I dusted my books and shined up chess trophies
I took down pictures and cleaned the backs and frames
I cleaned the keyboard--with a Q-tip
I pulled specials off of their shelves and dusted them down
I folded all of the laundry.
I realized that I keep time by his calls. My day is counted away by the space between rings, the moments of silence broken by his words...
And so I wait for my fix. Hours meaningless and defined by the feeling in my veins, the beat of my heart, the race for the phone. The sound of his voice from a thousand miles away...
So I drown in the tragic majesty of life, the beautiful uncertainty of being. As I track time by the space between his calls...
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