And that, I think, is why I have so little sympathy for those who let the shit in their lives make them into someone they don’t want to be. I can empathize, to a point, with the horrors and bad shit people go thru but I have no sympathy for letting it turn you into a nut.
Ranting and Reminiscing
From “wow, what a good day it’s been” to “fuck you” to “holy 80′s brows” in fifteen minutes
Fuck a Bunch of Entitlement
Why do we get so full of ourselves we think we’re owed by these places?
If anything, we owe them.
Nice.
And so I sit here, so much to say, afraid to say it. Continually sanitizing my life, my thoughts and my opinions in the interest of being… nice. Professional.
Blergh.
It sucks ass. It’s sapping the spirit and personality right out of me. I? Am boring.
Wait. What? Total wrong turn in Albuquerque
I came to the place where all this works for me by doing a lot of soul searching and introspection, by trial and error and, in the end, by making a conscious and deliberate choice.
A Big Bowl of Fuck You
So life around here is normal. It’s been normal and good with few bumps other than the normal ones caused by a submissive housemouse picking up a job for a good, long time. It’s been, what? A year? Since I had angst? Ack. I need angst! Actually, I do have stuff I angst over. It’s
What starts as a ranty thought peters out into babble.
Headspace. Remembering your place. Blah blah blah. Yet another topic I’ve grown weary of. (So, yes, I talk about it more. How much sense does that make?) I think I used to put a lot of importance on the little things, the direct dominance type stuff that would put me in the proper headspace to
Me first, me first, me first!
So. FetLife. Again, it has me pondering. I may not participate there much but, I swear to gods, whenever I visit I end up with a blog post. Lately there have been some discussions about who comes first; child, master or self. And I’m kind of floored at the responses. I mean, first of all,
Just be
Every time I see a discussion titled slave vs submissive, I damned near get lock jaw from clenching my teeth so hard. I am not about to get into the debate regarding what the difference is. As far as I’m concerned, there freakin’ isn’t one. Not in the way most folks mean when they talk
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