Saturday, April 28, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Submissive
We started the drive home and he said to me
'Shut up! From this point on you will not speak, you will do only as I say.'
I was completely caught off guard but for the strangest reason - I submitted to his demands.
'Pull your pants down and play with your clit.'
It was a ten minute drive home and for ten minutes, I played with my clit as he drove while casually looking my way from time to time.
'Go in the bedroom, undress, no more touching yourself - from this point on you are my submissive little slut. You will not touch me or yourself until I say it is okay.'
For the next thirty minutes or so it was him watching me with great intent to not only get off but to control everything I did. He watched me lower my pants and remove my shirt as he slowly stroked his cock. I was getting highly turned on and he knew it. He made sure that when I removed my panties I would turn my back to him and lower them with my legs straight as I bent completely over and he could see right through me.
I stood completely naked in front of the bathroom mirror as he watched me freshen up my make up and hair. He would stand just close enough for me to feel his hard cock against my body. He would continue to stroke his cock with one hand and take his other hand and place it between my legs to feel my wetness while watching my reaction in the mirror. I was not allowed to do anything other than get ready.
'Put this on.'
On the bed was a black tank dress that when worn hugged every curve and danced around my ankles, This was a favorite of his. I slipped it over my shoulders and it fell over my naked body as I could feel his warm breath against my neck.
We ended up at a busy restaurant and he had made his demands clear before arriving. As the waitress was taking our order he demanded that I lift my dress up so I could again play with my clit as she spoke and as he ordered for the two of us. I always ordered for myself but not tonight. He wanted full control and I was just to take it. It was not a request, I was his and he would have me as he wished. I played with my clit, he ordered and she knew nothing.
He would watch me eat and the conversation was lacking considering I was not allowed to speak, only to think and wonder what was in store for me next.
We drove home in silence. He never demanded anything. He drove slowly and took the longest way home making it even harder for me. I was so turned on by this because I couldn't do anything but my mind was racing in anticipation of being penetrated by him. I wanted it; I wanted to release my body fluids in which he was creating.
As I went to the bathroom he stood in front of me with his cock pulled out of his pants stroking it and slapping my face with it as I peed.
'You like being slapped with my cock don't you?'
It seemed like time was moving so slow as I could feel my heart racing and my cum wanting to rapidly flow from my cunt into his mouth. I was having a hard time not touching him, feeling him inside me. I wanted his cock in my mouth, in my pussy. I wanted it badly and he wouldn't do it. I couldn't do a thing until he said so.
He wiped me after I finished peeing, slowly taking his fingers and thrusting them into my cunt. I could feel his breath sharpen against my neck again as my muscles tightened up against his touch. It was the first real touch since he told me to submit. It was the moment I had mentally begged for. Then he stopped.
He walked me to the kitchen where he layed me on the table and undressed me. I couldn't help him - he did it all. He watched my chest rise up and lower as I continued to spill wetness on the table which we would eat dinner and talk about our days. The blinds to the kitchen were wide open and pulled up all the way. We could be seen by anyone who was looking. He wanted that and in the silence of my yearning - I wanted it too.
I started to speak, I couldn't help it as it was such a natural reaction during the moment of pure erotica. Suddenly he took my chin with a forceful hand while holding on tight and said to me 'What the fuck did I tell you?' 'You are not to speak!'
I wasn't scared, I was turned on and there it was, the moment where I felt like I was being raped. In essence I was and my pulsating pussy was throbbing, screaming for his cock.
While continuing to tightly hold my chin he lowered his head until his lips were between my legs. With the slightest touch he licked my clit and blew a soft breath, just enough to make me quiver. Just as I started to melt within that moment he pulled me up, shoved his fingers in my mouth to open it and then fucked my mouth with his cock. It was the hard thrusting that had me gagging. He saw my eyes twater and he wiped my eyes until my mascara was smeared. He continued to fuck my mouth with a stearn hold on my hair. He thoroughly enjoyed the sound I made while I retched perfusely on his cock. I was his and I was exactly what he craved at that very moment.
It wasn't much longer, although it seemed as though it took forever, before he was fucking my cunt. Bent over the kitchen table he spread my legs, placed my hands behind my back while holding them still with one hand and his other hand held my head down while he fucked me. Not just fucked me but raped me.
It was a one time thing and I have craved it many times over since then.
'Shut up! From this point on you will not speak, you will do only as I say.'
I was completely caught off guard but for the strangest reason - I submitted to his demands.
'Pull your pants down and play with your clit.'
It was a ten minute drive home and for ten minutes, I played with my clit as he drove while casually looking my way from time to time.
'Go in the bedroom, undress, no more touching yourself - from this point on you are my submissive little slut. You will not touch me or yourself until I say it is okay.'
For the next thirty minutes or so it was him watching me with great intent to not only get off but to control everything I did. He watched me lower my pants and remove my shirt as he slowly stroked his cock. I was getting highly turned on and he knew it. He made sure that when I removed my panties I would turn my back to him and lower them with my legs straight as I bent completely over and he could see right through me.
I stood completely naked in front of the bathroom mirror as he watched me freshen up my make up and hair. He would stand just close enough for me to feel his hard cock against my body. He would continue to stroke his cock with one hand and take his other hand and place it between my legs to feel my wetness while watching my reaction in the mirror. I was not allowed to do anything other than get ready.
'Put this on.'
On the bed was a black tank dress that when worn hugged every curve and danced around my ankles, This was a favorite of his. I slipped it over my shoulders and it fell over my naked body as I could feel his warm breath against my neck.
We ended up at a busy restaurant and he had made his demands clear before arriving. As the waitress was taking our order he demanded that I lift my dress up so I could again play with my clit as she spoke and as he ordered for the two of us. I always ordered for myself but not tonight. He wanted full control and I was just to take it. It was not a request, I was his and he would have me as he wished. I played with my clit, he ordered and she knew nothing.
He would watch me eat and the conversation was lacking considering I was not allowed to speak, only to think and wonder what was in store for me next.
We drove home in silence. He never demanded anything. He drove slowly and took the longest way home making it even harder for me. I was so turned on by this because I couldn't do anything but my mind was racing in anticipation of being penetrated by him. I wanted it; I wanted to release my body fluids in which he was creating.
As I went to the bathroom he stood in front of me with his cock pulled out of his pants stroking it and slapping my face with it as I peed.
'You like being slapped with my cock don't you?'
It seemed like time was moving so slow as I could feel my heart racing and my cum wanting to rapidly flow from my cunt into his mouth. I was having a hard time not touching him, feeling him inside me. I wanted his cock in my mouth, in my pussy. I wanted it badly and he wouldn't do it. I couldn't do a thing until he said so.
He wiped me after I finished peeing, slowly taking his fingers and thrusting them into my cunt. I could feel his breath sharpen against my neck again as my muscles tightened up against his touch. It was the first real touch since he told me to submit. It was the moment I had mentally begged for. Then he stopped.
He walked me to the kitchen where he layed me on the table and undressed me. I couldn't help him - he did it all. He watched my chest rise up and lower as I continued to spill wetness on the table which we would eat dinner and talk about our days. The blinds to the kitchen were wide open and pulled up all the way. We could be seen by anyone who was looking. He wanted that and in the silence of my yearning - I wanted it too.
I started to speak, I couldn't help it as it was such a natural reaction during the moment of pure erotica. Suddenly he took my chin with a forceful hand while holding on tight and said to me 'What the fuck did I tell you?' 'You are not to speak!'
I wasn't scared, I was turned on and there it was, the moment where I felt like I was being raped. In essence I was and my pulsating pussy was throbbing, screaming for his cock.
While continuing to tightly hold my chin he lowered his head until his lips were between my legs. With the slightest touch he licked my clit and blew a soft breath, just enough to make me quiver. Just as I started to melt within that moment he pulled me up, shoved his fingers in my mouth to open it and then fucked my mouth with his cock. It was the hard thrusting that had me gagging. He saw my eyes twater and he wiped my eyes until my mascara was smeared. He continued to fuck my mouth with a stearn hold on my hair. He thoroughly enjoyed the sound I made while I retched perfusely on his cock. I was his and I was exactly what he craved at that very moment.
It wasn't much longer, although it seemed as though it took forever, before he was fucking my cunt. Bent over the kitchen table he spread my legs, placed my hands behind my back while holding them still with one hand and his other hand held my head down while he fucked me. Not just fucked me but raped me.
It was a one time thing and I have craved it many times over since then.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Inevitable
I really have nothing to say - nothing that I can articulate effectively. I just know that it was inevitable to end up where I am now.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Three
I had always heard that in life things happen in three's and when it comes to decorating you should do the same. Why should fucking be any different?
I have spent time, sexually, with three men. Not at the same time although having two penetrate me simultaneously would be nice.
In the beginning of this non-physical threesome, I found myself growing, tearing and searching for who I was and what it was I wanted. I guess you can say a lot of things but I will just term it as testing the waters. Though the process is still ongoing I have learned that relationships, love and monogamy is basically bullshit. Relationships are expected and they equal drama; love is made from the mind and equals heartbreak; monogamy is a joke and equals failure.
I have witnessed too many times the reality of such.
I have watched and listened during my intimate moments with each man and each of them are great in their own ways. They each provide satisfaction which sustains me until the other, in some capacity, is present.
None of these men are committed to me and it has been made clear that there will be no commitment. At first, with two of them, I was a little taken back. I wondered why; why would I not be worth the commitment? It is not about whether or not I am, I believe it is that they are not capable, and the strength to search for the why is non-existent.
It is quite interesting spending time with these three. They are worlds apart and yet the volumes in which they speak to me is immeasurable. Their personal belief's; politics, religion, love and relationships are so unique and so telling of the world in which we live in. They are each different but one thing remains the same for two of them, they are done with relationships. These two men could not be any more different even with that one thing in common.
First - I have never met anyone like him, truly one of a kind in my life. When we are together in the silence of the evenings between us, I sway to motion of his breaths between his words. I love him and have for a long while. He is the man that if I was to ever fall victim to society and embark in a monogamist relationship all others will be compared. He found his way into my soul slowly creeping in without warning. This man knows my innermost thoughts, fears, demons and pushes my creativity, encourages my growth and is undying in our friendship. He speaks the loudest to me, I hear him when the silence is deafening. With him all losses are restored and sorrows end.
Second - This is a different love. My love for him has always been there. We used to be together years ago. We were always off and on. We reconnected and shared our true feelings towards one another. The problem, which there will always be at least one, is that we changed. Change is expected and welcomed but only when you know it is a part of growth. Our love for each other was the same but we, internally, had changed. Our life goals, belief's, desires had changed throughout our lives in each others absence. He really brought out the fun side of life. The live life experience which I was lacking. He took my hand, heart and mind and we walked through memory lane, laughed and loved. He is a strong willed man and with that, he has chosen to be alone - with the occasional sexual encounter which we always rock it out.
Third - I do not love him. I really know nothing about him. I like him, I care about him and I even have him in my thoughts sometimes during the day. He is a sexual deviant and I am his slut. He pushes me sexually, he wants to know what it is I want, long to have sexually, bar none. Just what nasty, inconceivable, unacceptable by society, kinda sex do I like? I tell him. You see, I can because he has that ability to get not only me but others to expose their hidden truths. It is a power and one that is scary yet comforting at the same time. Maybe it is because I realize I am not sick because others feel and think the same way I do. Maybe it is because I am sick just like the others that feel and think the same way I do.
As I have said, they each speak volumes to me for different reasons and each I will continue to love for what they contribute to my life. Whether it is what I gain from them, what they offer willingly, provide sexually or to fill that void that I am obviously missing. Depending on the reason chosen, I at some point or the other have needed each of them, loved them, laughed, fought and cried because of them.
Each are a constant without actually being one.
I have spent time, sexually, with three men. Not at the same time although having two penetrate me simultaneously would be nice.
In the beginning of this non-physical threesome, I found myself growing, tearing and searching for who I was and what it was I wanted. I guess you can say a lot of things but I will just term it as testing the waters. Though the process is still ongoing I have learned that relationships, love and monogamy is basically bullshit. Relationships are expected and they equal drama; love is made from the mind and equals heartbreak; monogamy is a joke and equals failure.
I have witnessed too many times the reality of such.
I have watched and listened during my intimate moments with each man and each of them are great in their own ways. They each provide satisfaction which sustains me until the other, in some capacity, is present.
None of these men are committed to me and it has been made clear that there will be no commitment. At first, with two of them, I was a little taken back. I wondered why; why would I not be worth the commitment? It is not about whether or not I am, I believe it is that they are not capable, and the strength to search for the why is non-existent.
It is quite interesting spending time with these three. They are worlds apart and yet the volumes in which they speak to me is immeasurable. Their personal belief's; politics, religion, love and relationships are so unique and so telling of the world in which we live in. They are each different but one thing remains the same for two of them, they are done with relationships. These two men could not be any more different even with that one thing in common.
First - I have never met anyone like him, truly one of a kind in my life. When we are together in the silence of the evenings between us, I sway to motion of his breaths between his words. I love him and have for a long while. He is the man that if I was to ever fall victim to society and embark in a monogamist relationship all others will be compared. He found his way into my soul slowly creeping in without warning. This man knows my innermost thoughts, fears, demons and pushes my creativity, encourages my growth and is undying in our friendship. He speaks the loudest to me, I hear him when the silence is deafening. With him all losses are restored and sorrows end.
Second - This is a different love. My love for him has always been there. We used to be together years ago. We were always off and on. We reconnected and shared our true feelings towards one another. The problem, which there will always be at least one, is that we changed. Change is expected and welcomed but only when you know it is a part of growth. Our love for each other was the same but we, internally, had changed. Our life goals, belief's, desires had changed throughout our lives in each others absence. He really brought out the fun side of life. The live life experience which I was lacking. He took my hand, heart and mind and we walked through memory lane, laughed and loved. He is a strong willed man and with that, he has chosen to be alone - with the occasional sexual encounter which we always rock it out.
Third - I do not love him. I really know nothing about him. I like him, I care about him and I even have him in my thoughts sometimes during the day. He is a sexual deviant and I am his slut. He pushes me sexually, he wants to know what it is I want, long to have sexually, bar none. Just what nasty, inconceivable, unacceptable by society, kinda sex do I like? I tell him. You see, I can because he has that ability to get not only me but others to expose their hidden truths. It is a power and one that is scary yet comforting at the same time. Maybe it is because I realize I am not sick because others feel and think the same way I do. Maybe it is because I am sick just like the others that feel and think the same way I do.
As I have said, they each speak volumes to me for different reasons and each I will continue to love for what they contribute to my life. Whether it is what I gain from them, what they offer willingly, provide sexually or to fill that void that I am obviously missing. Depending on the reason chosen, I at some point or the other have needed each of them, loved them, laughed, fought and cried because of them.
Each are a constant without actually being one.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Easter 2012
Another holiday - Easter 2012.
I don't like holidays. They make me sad for a few reasons and I have just gotten to a point of not celebrating them. It is neither here nor there on if I believe or not - they just make me sad.
It reminds me that I have no one in my life, the few I have are far away and what comes to mind the most is my lack of good parenting and love.
I am not a believer that there are any 'good parents' so to speak, I just believe that I have failed my own.
I don't take my children to have their pictures in the bluebonnets, sit in Santa's lap or even hide eggs for Easter. I used to but I stopped.
I suppose in a way it is about love and that is what I feel is being shoved in my face and because I lack the love given, I lack giving it in return.
I am coming to realize that most in life in revolved around love in some way and I hate the idea.
Love has always lied to me.
I don't like holidays. They make me sad for a few reasons and I have just gotten to a point of not celebrating them. It is neither here nor there on if I believe or not - they just make me sad.
It reminds me that I have no one in my life, the few I have are far away and what comes to mind the most is my lack of good parenting and love.
I am not a believer that there are any 'good parents' so to speak, I just believe that I have failed my own.
I don't take my children to have their pictures in the bluebonnets, sit in Santa's lap or even hide eggs for Easter. I used to but I stopped.
I suppose in a way it is about love and that is what I feel is being shoved in my face and because I lack the love given, I lack giving it in return.
I am coming to realize that most in life in revolved around love in some way and I hate the idea.
Love has always lied to me.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Poison & Wine - The Civil Wars
If I am ever to be loved - this is what I could only hope it would look like...
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Leap of faith
What do you want?
It does not seem like that hard of a question. Especially if we are discussing dinner or plans for the evening. However, that is not what I am referring to. I did not ask the question - he did. He asked it about my future; about my life. What do you want?
I have lived my life for others. This is not something I realized until the last few years. I never asked for anything, I just did what everyone else did. I had children, went to work, cleaned house, cooked dinner, went to bed and repeated it day in and day out for many numb filled years. It was always easier to just go with the flow because to honestly go after what your dreams are is in essence a nightmare. Being that I followed others with the desire to break free I ended up losing who I was and what I stood for. I ended up without a dream of accomplishing something greater than myself. I became a sheep within the realm of society. Because of this I lost the true meaning and ended up stuck with wanting what all sheep want when they finally realize they are free. - - To live fully - - to be loved completely - - to be happy and ultimately angry because I fell victim.
So now I sit with having to answer the one question that should not be difficult. Answering is not the issue - - fulfilling the obligation that I am destined to fulfill will be within the scrapes and bruises of the mountain I must climb.
I have a purpose and it is to help others. I have a knack for it and I enjoy it immensely. I have a way of soothing others when they are stuck and depressed within their own lives. Maybe that is because I understand so well. Not only do I enjoy that but I also enjoy photography and writing. I enjoy learning of others and hearing their deepest secrets as in fears and desires. I have the ability to listen but most importantly to hear them. Working in the medical field has given me many subjects thus making a difference has been readily available. But now something has changed. I find that people do not have the true appreciation, understanding and acceptance to what is given. - - Life - - I do not long for appreciation myself but I do believe that it is there but not with humans but with animals instead.
My place is with animals and not as a feral child but as a student to what they have to offer. I will start my journey with canines. Canines are many and in no way near extinction. However they are dying rapidly by the same exact diseases that humans do. They get cancer and I do not know why. They cannot smoke but are in an environment where smoking is near. They acquire cancer at alarming rates both young and old which I believe that no canine can ever be old but we are limited in the time we have with them. Old is a humans perspective, not an animals. I want to know why they get cancer but at this point there are others that aspire to be the sources of those causes. So where can I fit in and do something different but help those that ultimately cannot help themselves when it comes to this dreadful and deadly disease? I can tell their story. I can show that they actually live and that dying is not an option. I can show you what you have never seen before.
What will I gain from this? There has to be a selfish act in here somewhere. It goes hand in hand - - respect - - love - - admiration - - loneliness - - fear and happiness. I am sure there are more but that is what comes to mind. Interesting enough, it is not about money because to truly fight for what you are meant to accomplish in life - money cannot and should not be the deciding factor. There are many more riches then the almighty dollar bill.
However, there is this one thing I must tend to first. This must happen in order for the true value of life to encompass my own.
It does not seem like that hard of a question. Especially if we are discussing dinner or plans for the evening. However, that is not what I am referring to. I did not ask the question - he did. He asked it about my future; about my life. What do you want?
I have lived my life for others. This is not something I realized until the last few years. I never asked for anything, I just did what everyone else did. I had children, went to work, cleaned house, cooked dinner, went to bed and repeated it day in and day out for many numb filled years. It was always easier to just go with the flow because to honestly go after what your dreams are is in essence a nightmare. Being that I followed others with the desire to break free I ended up losing who I was and what I stood for. I ended up without a dream of accomplishing something greater than myself. I became a sheep within the realm of society. Because of this I lost the true meaning and ended up stuck with wanting what all sheep want when they finally realize they are free. - - To live fully - - to be loved completely - - to be happy and ultimately angry because I fell victim.
So now I sit with having to answer the one question that should not be difficult. Answering is not the issue - - fulfilling the obligation that I am destined to fulfill will be within the scrapes and bruises of the mountain I must climb.
I have a purpose and it is to help others. I have a knack for it and I enjoy it immensely. I have a way of soothing others when they are stuck and depressed within their own lives. Maybe that is because I understand so well. Not only do I enjoy that but I also enjoy photography and writing. I enjoy learning of others and hearing their deepest secrets as in fears and desires. I have the ability to listen but most importantly to hear them. Working in the medical field has given me many subjects thus making a difference has been readily available. But now something has changed. I find that people do not have the true appreciation, understanding and acceptance to what is given. - - Life - - I do not long for appreciation myself but I do believe that it is there but not with humans but with animals instead.
My place is with animals and not as a feral child but as a student to what they have to offer. I will start my journey with canines. Canines are many and in no way near extinction. However they are dying rapidly by the same exact diseases that humans do. They get cancer and I do not know why. They cannot smoke but are in an environment where smoking is near. They acquire cancer at alarming rates both young and old which I believe that no canine can ever be old but we are limited in the time we have with them. Old is a humans perspective, not an animals. I want to know why they get cancer but at this point there are others that aspire to be the sources of those causes. So where can I fit in and do something different but help those that ultimately cannot help themselves when it comes to this dreadful and deadly disease? I can tell their story. I can show that they actually live and that dying is not an option. I can show you what you have never seen before.
What will I gain from this? There has to be a selfish act in here somewhere. It goes hand in hand - - respect - - love - - admiration - - loneliness - - fear and happiness. I am sure there are more but that is what comes to mind. Interesting enough, it is not about money because to truly fight for what you are meant to accomplish in life - money cannot and should not be the deciding factor. There are many more riches then the almighty dollar bill.
However, there is this one thing I must tend to first. This must happen in order for the true value of life to encompass my own.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
You
I feel the tips of your fingers touching mine as my chest rises and lowers with the warmth that runs along the lines of my body. I feel you as the goosebumps from the whirlwind romance are lowered through your touch. My arms dropped to my side with melted palms I stand in the presence of the thoughts that house my being. Sinking into you without fear I feel the comfort that you bring.
Taking your hand to the center of my chest and slowly wrapping your palm around my neck to the base of my head, my hair becomes tangled in your hand. I feel the softest of lips upon mine. Your chest caves into mine and our hearts beat as one. I feel it; every beat and a tear is shed for the truest form of beauty I know which exists in the moments we share.
The exposure is intense and we say nothing, we just become what we feel. Your skin beneath my hands, my legs, my lips scream to me as the beast rises. I lay upon you in silence to reassure my love and admiration, for my heart has been given to the only love I know.
Without a moments notice the stone is placed and the set is lit as the pheromones which led us on the hunt has arrived. Gasping to swallow all there is sliding into me, I warm you with the bodily fluid that has longed to be penetrated.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Deception
I wake up daily to live. I do not wake to work, clean house or even read what is going on in the world.
When I take my first conscious breath I can feel my chest rise and then it lowers. Many times it comes with a sigh, a sigh of knowing that I am not living; not living my dream so to speak. And yes, I actually have a dream. Sounds a bit cliche' but so be it; it is the truth.
So when it comes to my life; not yours, but mine - If you do not have value to add to it - stay the fuck out. I have no time nor energy to work through the many issues in which you house. I have no time or energy to cypher through your childish comments because you are too much of a chicken shit to just fucking say what is on your mind.
This blog is titled censura deest for a reason. If you cannot follow that same path then you; a frightened soul, will never know what the meaning of truth is.
Unless of course your truth is a deceptive one.
When I take my first conscious breath I can feel my chest rise and then it lowers. Many times it comes with a sigh, a sigh of knowing that I am not living; not living my dream so to speak. And yes, I actually have a dream. Sounds a bit cliche' but so be it; it is the truth.
So when it comes to my life; not yours, but mine - If you do not have value to add to it - stay the fuck out. I have no time nor energy to work through the many issues in which you house. I have no time or energy to cypher through your childish comments because you are too much of a chicken shit to just fucking say what is on your mind.
This blog is titled censura deest for a reason. If you cannot follow that same path then you; a frightened soul, will never know what the meaning of truth is.
Unless of course your truth is a deceptive one.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Absolute
In the years of my life I have experienced more pain then I knew what to do with and yet the pain in comparison to others is nothing. I do what I can to never compare.
I have grown into my beliefs of peace, freedom, truth and love.
I have spent many years of knowing exactly what it is I wanted however I had no idea how to make any of it real. Now I am left at the crossroads of what I have always heard about. The time has arrived; the time to decide, the time to live my dream.
If my answer is yes then the lives of two will feel pain. One will understand and yet he won't. The other will feel the most pain. He will never understand and the sense of abandonment will always be there. That is the pain I have carried and never wished on anyone.
If my answer is no then the pain will be felt by only one. Myself.
My dream is to love, be loved and to make a difference where others will know the truth, have freedom and feel peace.
The absolute hardest feat in life is the absolute itself.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Lucid Skin
You seep through my pores as you fill my soul; my lucid skin awaits. Everywhere I turn, everything I think, your presence is stronger than any God that may or may not exist.
I sway to only find that you are there, that moment in which pure beauty is drowning my lifeless body. Looking with my lids closed I see you, clearer than before. It is not a game nor an ideal; it is the reality of my heart. Do not forsake me for the ideal you have of non-existence is unfathomable.
I sway to only find that you are there, that moment in which pure beauty is drowning my lifeless body. Looking with my lids closed I see you, clearer than before. It is not a game nor an ideal; it is the reality of my heart. Do not forsake me for the ideal you have of non-existence is unfathomable.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
ain't no reason
there ain't no reasons things are this way
it's how they've always been and they intend to stay
i don't know why i say the things i say
but i say them anyway
i can't explain why we live this way
we do it everyday
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Mind fucked
I never felt his touch or smelt his body but he entered my mind and fucked me. He slapped his cock against my slutty face and made me beg for more. I gagged to the point of not breathing as he fucked my mouth, his tight grip tangled in my hair as the obscenities were being screamed at me. Thrusting his cock deep inside my ass I cried out to him begging and begging but he would not stop. He made me cum through the pain accompanied with tears from sharp spasms as my breath became labored through the grip of his hand around my neck.
I was his bitch; his slut, his subject.
I was his bitch; his slut, his subject.
Friday, March 2, 2012
Parapila
A psycho sexual disorder in which sexual gratification is obtained through highly unusual practices that are harmful or humiliating to others or socially repugnant, such as voyeurism or pedophilia. This is the definition through The Free Dictionary by Farlex.
It is an interesting topic and one that I am familiar with.
To be perfectly clear and you should understand that there is nothing about pedophilia that interest me. I am not into it, I do not search sites nor do I fantasize about having any type of sexual encounter with a child or children.
That being said I will speak about the other aspects of paraphilia like voyeurism.
Voyeurism. I enjoy the thought of it. I watched a classmate of mine back in 1987, as he masturbated. I stood outside his bedroom window. It turned me on to watch someone please them self. His facial expressions and the movements of his body was quite erotic. He had absolutely no idea that I stood there watching intently as he continued to stroke away. Later that evening I took my soaked panties off and I masturbated to the scene alone in my upstairs bedroom. I told him recently and it pissed him off that I watched him, then he wanted to fuck me.
I have been watched while I masturbate. It is something that I believe most couples do when they are fooling around. I, however, would like to be watched while not knowing. Tell me about it later but watch me when I am unaware. I welcome you.
Now some may say I am a sexual deviant and that's okay. You see, I am pleased with my sexuality and quite comfortable in knowing that I gain pleasure from the exposure of all my inhibitions which I have none.
To be perfectly clear and you should understand that there is nothing about pedophilia that interest me. I am not into it, I do not search sites nor do I fantasize about having any type of sexual encounter with a child or children.
That being said I will speak about the other aspects of paraphilia like voyeurism.
Voyeurism. I enjoy the thought of it. I watched a classmate of mine back in 1987, as he masturbated. I stood outside his bedroom window. It turned me on to watch someone please them self. His facial expressions and the movements of his body was quite erotic. He had absolutely no idea that I stood there watching intently as he continued to stroke away. Later that evening I took my soaked panties off and I masturbated to the scene alone in my upstairs bedroom. I told him recently and it pissed him off that I watched him, then he wanted to fuck me.
I have been watched while I masturbate. It is something that I believe most couples do when they are fooling around. I, however, would like to be watched while not knowing. Tell me about it later but watch me when I am unaware. I welcome you.
Now some may say I am a sexual deviant and that's okay. You see, I am pleased with my sexuality and quite comfortable in knowing that I gain pleasure from the exposure of all my inhibitions which I have none.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Impressing who?
I have never understood the time and money that went into the over dressed population that rises early to paint themselves in a different light to impress an invisible man. Most Sunday's and Wednesday's people make their trek to a building that was erected larger and more beautiful then the other.
A competition ensues.
A competition between individuals of society and the bean counters behind the scenes to market their religion although it isn't religion they are marketing. Or is it?
Putting on their Sunday best. Suits, ties, dresses and hosiery with shined flats and heels so they can sit uncomfortably while they listen to a mans version of what the ever changing bible has to say.
Why would anyone think that actually going to a building to ultimately tithe, which is an entirely different subject in itself; is going to save them? I suppose many people do it for companionship. To feel a part of a group of sorts and what better group then those that supposedly guarantee you a ticket to heaven.
So as moms and dads wake their babies to bathe, dress and comb their hair perfectly to sit with the evil eye upon them from their parents if they act up literally makes me laugh. I say, take them as they are and let them act as they will. God came dressed in rags, wasn't rich and had long hair. Or at least that is what the images that are sold world wide in marketplaces show. Except his images show an ever so beautiful glowing light that radiates beauty in which society prays will accompany them.
I do not go to church and fear not what is in store for me. If there is actually anything in store or not remains to be seen and furthermore remains to be known by any living creature that roams this earth. It makes perfect sense, to me, to have nothing to do with any type of organized religion.
Either you believe in God or you do not. You either go to church or you do not. But why in the hell do you dress up for it? It is the false pretense from society that man has created to make you believe that you must appear a certain way to go to church or better yet to be saved.
It has nothing to do with being saved. It has nothing to do with religion. It is simply a passed down tradition for centuries that people take part in with the belief that it is in fact the right thing to do.
So as you go about your morning racing to the building that thousands of dollars were spent on I will sit here and enjoy my coffee combined with energy drink and a cigarette. I will listen to the music that inspires me to continue to believe in myself while I write the truth of me and not clouded by the ever changing rules of religion.
While the rules change and different versions are printed each year one thing will remain the same and that is my belief. If there is a God and if he is forgiving then he will accept the fact that I did not fall victim.
A competition ensues.
A competition between individuals of society and the bean counters behind the scenes to market their religion although it isn't religion they are marketing. Or is it?
Putting on their Sunday best. Suits, ties, dresses and hosiery with shined flats and heels so they can sit uncomfortably while they listen to a mans version of what the ever changing bible has to say.
Why would anyone think that actually going to a building to ultimately tithe, which is an entirely different subject in itself; is going to save them? I suppose many people do it for companionship. To feel a part of a group of sorts and what better group then those that supposedly guarantee you a ticket to heaven.
So as moms and dads wake their babies to bathe, dress and comb their hair perfectly to sit with the evil eye upon them from their parents if they act up literally makes me laugh. I say, take them as they are and let them act as they will. God came dressed in rags, wasn't rich and had long hair. Or at least that is what the images that are sold world wide in marketplaces show. Except his images show an ever so beautiful glowing light that radiates beauty in which society prays will accompany them.
I do not go to church and fear not what is in store for me. If there is actually anything in store or not remains to be seen and furthermore remains to be known by any living creature that roams this earth. It makes perfect sense, to me, to have nothing to do with any type of organized religion.
Either you believe in God or you do not. You either go to church or you do not. But why in the hell do you dress up for it? It is the false pretense from society that man has created to make you believe that you must appear a certain way to go to church or better yet to be saved.
It has nothing to do with being saved. It has nothing to do with religion. It is simply a passed down tradition for centuries that people take part in with the belief that it is in fact the right thing to do.
So as you go about your morning racing to the building that thousands of dollars were spent on I will sit here and enjoy my coffee combined with energy drink and a cigarette. I will listen to the music that inspires me to continue to believe in myself while I write the truth of me and not clouded by the ever changing rules of religion.
While the rules change and different versions are printed each year one thing will remain the same and that is my belief. If there is a God and if he is forgiving then he will accept the fact that I did not fall victim.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Manic
So, I will just put it out there - I am a manic depressive individual.
Shocker! Well, the shock comes from the actions in which I take. Anyone that has spent any amount of quality time with me knows damn well that I am a bit, to say the least, off balance. I can be a bitchy obsessive thinker and sometimes extreme in my unrelenting actions but most of all I, when in that low state, do the unthinkable by not thinking before acting.
I have always been a 'fly by the seat of your pants' kind of gal but lately I have flown a bit far. I have taken drinking to a whole new level and at the moment I am out. I have actually been debating going to the store to purchase my favorite bottle of wine but the advice from a friend has actually kept me from doing so. My choice however his strength on me weighs a great deal so I will write.
I have been making poor decisions recently. Well, actually some of them I don't see to actually be poor but there is one in particular that has wrecked havoc on a relationship that I never saw coming to this.
He is a passionate man with great strength and I hold the utmost admiration for such a being. When I hear his voice, his breathing I can feel him run through my veins. I fell in love with him. I did not just fall in love with him but I am also in awe over his courage to fight, to stand like a mighty oak and his unrelenting love for his beliefs. How did he get there, how does he maintain his convictions? What is it that God wants me to learn from him. And yes, I said God - I am working on this.
I placed a gaping hole in what we built between us. My manic actions and the way I allowed them to interfere with common sense completely tore through an unwavering friendship until I brought the waves.
It is unsettling where I lay and yet I made this bed. I lay alone praying for solace between us. I can no longer beg and plead with him. I can only show him that my loyalty is of the truest and though, and I am not excusing my actions, I have made him question and it is up to me and me alone to bring belief back to the core of us.
It will take time and maybe right now we need time from each other. I do not want that however I understand that if we do not breathe without the other, mainly me, then our breaths will contain fire.
I know that he loves me, respects me and to the end of our days he will honor me; this I do not doubt. I have some growing up to do and I long for the day that he looks at me and says I was worth every ounce of laughter and pain that we, together, endured.
Shocker! Well, the shock comes from the actions in which I take. Anyone that has spent any amount of quality time with me knows damn well that I am a bit, to say the least, off balance. I can be a bitchy obsessive thinker and sometimes extreme in my unrelenting actions but most of all I, when in that low state, do the unthinkable by not thinking before acting.
I have always been a 'fly by the seat of your pants' kind of gal but lately I have flown a bit far. I have taken drinking to a whole new level and at the moment I am out. I have actually been debating going to the store to purchase my favorite bottle of wine but the advice from a friend has actually kept me from doing so. My choice however his strength on me weighs a great deal so I will write.
I have been making poor decisions recently. Well, actually some of them I don't see to actually be poor but there is one in particular that has wrecked havoc on a relationship that I never saw coming to this.
He is a passionate man with great strength and I hold the utmost admiration for such a being. When I hear his voice, his breathing I can feel him run through my veins. I fell in love with him. I did not just fall in love with him but I am also in awe over his courage to fight, to stand like a mighty oak and his unrelenting love for his beliefs. How did he get there, how does he maintain his convictions? What is it that God wants me to learn from him. And yes, I said God - I am working on this.
I placed a gaping hole in what we built between us. My manic actions and the way I allowed them to interfere with common sense completely tore through an unwavering friendship until I brought the waves.
It is unsettling where I lay and yet I made this bed. I lay alone praying for solace between us. I can no longer beg and plead with him. I can only show him that my loyalty is of the truest and though, and I am not excusing my actions, I have made him question and it is up to me and me alone to bring belief back to the core of us.
It will take time and maybe right now we need time from each other. I do not want that however I understand that if we do not breathe without the other, mainly me, then our breaths will contain fire.
I know that he loves me, respects me and to the end of our days he will honor me; this I do not doubt. I have some growing up to do and I long for the day that he looks at me and says I was worth every ounce of laughter and pain that we, together, endured.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Realization
Today marks the one year anniversary that I kicked my husband of twelve years to the curb. Literally, that is how it was. He had no where to go but probably his mothers and I honestly did not give a damn anymore.
I recall the night before telling him that I no longer loved him; that I wanted him gone. The lack of loving him was not new to me, only the courage to actually say it was. I was very calm in my approach. I did not yell, cuss, throw things or even cry. I was matter of fact and I made no mistake in making myself clear.
I found that the moments it took to perform a non rehearsed speech eerily comforting. It was truly the only feeling I had since I had exhausted all others in the years prior.
I sat calmly as I watched him cry and beg me to forgive any mistakes he had made and to please give him another chance. I gave to him the one thing he so willingly gave to me by not listening. It was not something I set out to do it was just easier to convey in a language which he spoke.
Not one minute, hour nor day has passed that I have ever regretted my decision to leave him.
The only thing that hurts is the one thing I do not know how to fix.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
She
I was visited by an old aquaintance today although truth be known, we are much more than aquaintances. We have a history that goes back many, many years.
We do not see eye to eye; we never have. She is relentless in her manic ways and though I have cried and begged her to leave me, she refuses. I even went as far to remove her physically and found that I am powerless against the weight she bares. She has been my burden for years.
Each time she comes it changes everything. Sometimes she appears without warning. I turn and there she stands. Helpless in what is to come, I close my eyes and begin the war all over again.
I don't know how long she will stay this time, each time is different however she will leave eventually.
I won't be alone long though; she always finds her way back.
We do not see eye to eye; we never have. She is relentless in her manic ways and though I have cried and begged her to leave me, she refuses. I even went as far to remove her physically and found that I am powerless against the weight she bares. She has been my burden for years.
Each time she comes it changes everything. Sometimes she appears without warning. I turn and there she stands. Helpless in what is to come, I close my eyes and begin the war all over again.
I don't know how long she will stay this time, each time is different however she will leave eventually.
I won't be alone long though; she always finds her way back.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Addiction
Addiction? I suppose the truth comes from the one who claims the word.
I don't believe in addiction. Addiction is a word that gives society a way out of responsibility, a way to seek attention from others, be it good or bad.
You have control over all aspects within this realm. Do you drink, smoke, do drugs, masturbate or lift weights? These are just a few of what some would consider an addiction if they themselves didn't partake. I happen to smoke cigarettes, smoke marijuana and masturbate but again there are more activities to choose from. Feel free to fill in the blank.
I smoke cigarettes and have for over twenty years. I do this because it is something that I enjoy. I feel more comfortable in an environment where it is socially unacceptable. It is a death sentence of sorts for I know it will be what takes my life.
I smoke marijuana, not on a daily basis but when I do it is just enough to relax my thoughts and ease my pain in which I have gathered throughout my day. It makes me smile when I have no reason.
Masturbation is great and I encourage everyone to strum their own sixth string, that is if your a woman. If your a man, well I suggest you tug away with your fantasy.
So you see, for me addiction is not part of my vocabulary but pleasure is. I find pleasure in the choices I make voluntarily.
I don't believe in addiction. Addiction is a word that gives society a way out of responsibility, a way to seek attention from others, be it good or bad.
You have control over all aspects within this realm. Do you drink, smoke, do drugs, masturbate or lift weights? These are just a few of what some would consider an addiction if they themselves didn't partake. I happen to smoke cigarettes, smoke marijuana and masturbate but again there are more activities to choose from. Feel free to fill in the blank.
I smoke cigarettes and have for over twenty years. I do this because it is something that I enjoy. I feel more comfortable in an environment where it is socially unacceptable. It is a death sentence of sorts for I know it will be what takes my life.
I smoke marijuana, not on a daily basis but when I do it is just enough to relax my thoughts and ease my pain in which I have gathered throughout my day. It makes me smile when I have no reason.
Masturbation is great and I encourage everyone to strum their own sixth string, that is if your a woman. If your a man, well I suggest you tug away with your fantasy.
So you see, for me addiction is not part of my vocabulary but pleasure is. I find pleasure in the choices I make voluntarily.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Sedated
Medications. You know, the ones that allow others to tolerate the bane of your existence. SSRI's are in essence designed to balance out the imbalances of who God made; a way to fix God's mistakes, assuming you believe in God. I do not. Another blog; another day.
I lost so much of myself throughout the morning ritual of a pill and a cup of coffee. Popping the hundred milligram pill, day in and day out for twelve years is just what people needed from me; a subdued shell. A puppet with societies hand so far up my ass and down my throat that the smile was fixed. After all, isn't that the meaning of life? - Giving what others want so that they themselves don't have to submit to the ugliness.
I was made to believe that I needed counseling; seek a therapist, they'd say - there is obviously something wrong with you.
So I did.
I was never encouraged from the therapist in which I spent hundreds of dollars on to actually be myself instead of suppressing the beauty in which society could not muster. And yes, there is a beauty in the destructive mind.
Giving credit to John Nash, beautiful and yet destructive. He couldn't function to his full potential with a sedative however was accepted briefly while medicated but loved unconditionally when the realization was apparent and fully accepted. We are taught that our beliefs are shameful when they question the very one that stands before us. In order to be accepted you must think in a certain way. Do you really believe that I was given choices, that any of us are given choices? It isn't as though we can shop at the local market to purchase the right mind in order to be accepted or loved. Which makes me wonder, what makes a mind right?
So why did I fall for this western society bullshit? Well, I did it to be more to others and less to myself. I did it simply out of confusion, the lack of acceptance and the weakened self-confidence. What I was being taught was unacceptable - myself.
I suppose the truth lies in my raising. Seeing all the happy, smiling faces and hearing their laughter made me want it, or so I thought. The best part of family is to see that none of it was true which is why I was never able to succumb to its lies. It is the reason why, though I live within minutes of my family, that none of them seek me nor encourage my passions to flourish. They know of no such passion as they live a mundane existence because it comforts them long enough to make it through hours of lies escaping their very own reality.
Throughout the sedated years I didn't miss who I was; fuck, I didn't even know her anymore. I didn't write, sing, practice my photography and I didn't bleed of any passion. However, I sure made everyone else happy in their own beliefs that they conquered a supposedly lost soul. I thought if I changed I would gain the acceptance that I longed for; the abundance of love that accompanied all those around me. In fact the right thing for me would ly in knowing it is strictly an opinion of a person who knows nothing of such a life.
I never was that lost soul, I was only a submissive little bitch to societies censorship of the mind. I surrendered so that they would never have to grasp the truth in which they would never understand. I removed that girl so that no one would have to explain a particular behavior to the jaw dropped onlookers.
I haven't popped a pill in a year now. I have no use for the 4 x 6 piece of paper that states I need help. I haven't made people happy and they don't want to be around me. It is a fact of life that I have embraced and though it may be lonely at times, it is exhilarating to be alive and most importantly not sedated.
I lost so much of myself throughout the morning ritual of a pill and a cup of coffee. Popping the hundred milligram pill, day in and day out for twelve years is just what people needed from me; a subdued shell. A puppet with societies hand so far up my ass and down my throat that the smile was fixed. After all, isn't that the meaning of life? - Giving what others want so that they themselves don't have to submit to the ugliness.
I was made to believe that I needed counseling; seek a therapist, they'd say - there is obviously something wrong with you.
So I did.
I was never encouraged from the therapist in which I spent hundreds of dollars on to actually be myself instead of suppressing the beauty in which society could not muster. And yes, there is a beauty in the destructive mind.
Giving credit to John Nash, beautiful and yet destructive. He couldn't function to his full potential with a sedative however was accepted briefly while medicated but loved unconditionally when the realization was apparent and fully accepted. We are taught that our beliefs are shameful when they question the very one that stands before us. In order to be accepted you must think in a certain way. Do you really believe that I was given choices, that any of us are given choices? It isn't as though we can shop at the local market to purchase the right mind in order to be accepted or loved. Which makes me wonder, what makes a mind right?
So why did I fall for this western society bullshit? Well, I did it to be more to others and less to myself. I did it simply out of confusion, the lack of acceptance and the weakened self-confidence. What I was being taught was unacceptable - myself.
I suppose the truth lies in my raising. Seeing all the happy, smiling faces and hearing their laughter made me want it, or so I thought. The best part of family is to see that none of it was true which is why I was never able to succumb to its lies. It is the reason why, though I live within minutes of my family, that none of them seek me nor encourage my passions to flourish. They know of no such passion as they live a mundane existence because it comforts them long enough to make it through hours of lies escaping their very own reality.
Throughout the sedated years I didn't miss who I was; fuck, I didn't even know her anymore. I didn't write, sing, practice my photography and I didn't bleed of any passion. However, I sure made everyone else happy in their own beliefs that they conquered a supposedly lost soul. I thought if I changed I would gain the acceptance that I longed for; the abundance of love that accompanied all those around me. In fact the right thing for me would ly in knowing it is strictly an opinion of a person who knows nothing of such a life.
I never was that lost soul, I was only a submissive little bitch to societies censorship of the mind. I surrendered so that they would never have to grasp the truth in which they would never understand. I removed that girl so that no one would have to explain a particular behavior to the jaw dropped onlookers.
I haven't popped a pill in a year now. I have no use for the 4 x 6 piece of paper that states I need help. I haven't made people happy and they don't want to be around me. It is a fact of life that I have embraced and though it may be lonely at times, it is exhilarating to be alive and most importantly not sedated.
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