june

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DM's Realm

CHAINED

Last night was the first night i spent chained to Master's bed. She locked the chain to the chains on my harness. The harness only snaps on the back. There are no locks. At any point in time i cold have reached around, unsnapped it, and slipped the harness off. At any point i could have reached under and unhooked the hooks holding the chain to the bed. But i'm not the kind of slave who needs physical fetters.

i love chain, the way it feels, the way it sounds, it's unyielding yet supple hardness. It was a mental thing, a head space thing. Watching Her stand over me, locking the bed chain to the harness. Knowing that She owns me so completely that i wouldn't dare reach around and escape.

There was Sunday morning, when i was still half asleep, and She came in and tied my hand to one of the rope lengths we have on the bed now. I could have defied Her, rolled over, and untied the rope, slunk out to the living room, declared some sense of individuality.
And be punished.
Something in the way that She just came over and tied me there, trusting that Her slave would not attempt to free himself. Because, She owns me.

I spent years in fantasies. Wanting a Master who would know what would bind me to them.
Now, a year later, we are starting to move to new levels. We had to get through that first year. All the trials, all the emotional stuff. I'm letting go of alot of the emotional garbage, and finding freedom in being Her slave-boy. She hadn't started yet with discipline. We talked about it last week. How the more i get away with, the more i'll do.
Prior to that, it was if She asserted Herself too much, my defiance would increase. Where is the line? Too much or too little. I am a walking contradiction.So how do i know what is good for me? I've never been in a relationship like this. How do i know i'll rebel if She does X or witholds Y. What do i know? She has mentioned that She will start using orgasms as reward.

Last night after chaining me to the bed, She had me lay face down, and beat on me some, using several different implements at Her disposal. One of them a very stingy, vinyl strap that someone sent to Her. I got Hard. I was already hard from the weekend's festivities. We didn't have sex Sat. night. Sunday i was privilaged to watch a great cock-sucking scene. So i was throbbing, thinking to myself "She'll at least fuck me a little, let me have one teensy weensy orgasm..."

Nope.

When She was done, she lay down and had me suck Her breast a bit, and then went to sleep. I was squirming.

Chaining me, beating me, and i didn't even resist once, no balled up fists, no saying no. And my desire lay there pulsating, pounding in my sex, and my chest.
I would have come right there if She told me to, without Her touching me. After the lights were out i was told to quit squirming or i'd be kicked to the floor. So i tried real hard to calm down. It wasn't easy but i got there.

Sleep eluded me, and this morning, my brain woke up and stayed just this side of dreaming and rest. Finally, she came in and released me, because i had to piss.

I don't know how well i will do getting the daily and weekly TO DO lists done. How long before the next round of defiance kicks in and i try to reassert some of my own independence. Some of the boy brain thinking of "I can do what i want when i want, not when someone tells me." But i didn't become Her slave to show her a bratty misbehaved boi. I became Her slave because i am valuable, i have assets, and She doesn't need to break me all the way down for me to serve Her. Or to be obedient to Her. (Although sometimes i wonder what that would take...)

She is gifting me with those desires i have held close to my heart for too many years. Is implementing steady, minute changes. This is what She told me She would do. We just had to get through some really bad head space on my part. And i am finally in a place where i can once again surrender to Her, this feels like a new level of surrender for me, and not one that Shepushed, but one i offered to Her. One that comes out of my own need to serve, and be used, and be proffered up for what ever Her wishes are for me. I must remember that. That as a slave, i serve Her desires, not mine...and in that will come the freedom to pursue the goals i have held for a long time in regard to poetry and art...

I trust Her, and i trust this process. And most importantly, i trust myself, that i made a good and healthy choice this time around!

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06.27.03
03:02:24 PM

Written Last night at a Poetry Reading:

Master and i had a session last night. I came home in very submissive space, requesting, needing, wanting to feel the burn of the Lash, surrender my strength to Her Authority. She honored that request, met my need. Because I know what is under Her skin as well; there is that need too, that burning, underneath Her calm demeanor, Her quiet Resting. If i ask at the right time, aching, and honest, I am able to call forth the Sadist, and try to match the Pain She can inflict. Usually i can't take as much as i would like to, but at least we match in the Need. During our session something fell out of my mouth. There's this energy in Her. I call Her Master, not because She is butch or Masculine, She's not, but because She is a Female Master (read: NOT A FEMME TOP). When the Sadist comes crawling out of her to play with this Toy, there is a shift in the energy, She feels Masculine to me. I've felt this energy in Her before, and i've clamped my mouth shut, usually i have been gagged, and spared the consequence of letting it fall out, but before i could stop myself, i called Her Sir. I do not have permission to use this honorific on Her and she called me on it.

"You don't have permission to call me that."

"Yes Master, i understand."

"Do you think just Sirs can do this?"

"No Master, it is Your energy, Master."

She accepted this humble toy's explanation, and we continued until She was finished. I was pushed down to the ground by Her feet, because i got into a challenging mood. Not with Language, but by looking up at Her and wanting to shove back. She was saying no, and put me down in my place. By the time She was done with me i was hard. I was hard and aching and, the dick throbbing and erect, my cunt wet and ready. She went and got the boi sheet, and i lay on it, careful not to press my back too hard into the floor. Rubber floggers hurt! I lay there squirming, and wanting to stroke off, and wanting to jump on Her and give Her all that massive passion mounting in me. She made me lay there, saying No, over and over again, until i could calm down, until the ache of desire eased in me, and i could be civil and respectful. I wanted a touch, a caress, a smack! Any kind of attention while i was in that place. She grabbed the cock once, with a "Is this what you want boi?" And it just made me squirm more.

Finally i calmed down, got up on my knees, and humbly asked permission to pleasure Her. She led me onto the bed, and let me give Her all of what She had caused in me, and i released the ache and the need into Her strength and Her beauty.

And this is why i Serve Her, why i surrender my strength, my talents, all of what i am to Her. Some days, it is a struggle to remember my place, other times, times like this, i know in a real sense why we are together, why this as an M/s 24/7 works between us. Needs of mine that had been ignored for so long are met, needs in Her which went unattended, are met. And there are those times we don't play, or my head, or Her head are all messed up. Or physically one or the other of us aren't able to play. But then, then there are nights like this one, and the next night, when i remember what surrender is all about. How i found some one with the capacity to take all of the pent up energy inside of me, and convert it, turn it to good use. How She takes that Daddy energy in me, and makes it Her own. She absorbs it, feeds on it, wants it. And no matter how much that Top part in me wants to come out, i know She has the ability to control me, She has the capacity to discipline me, and to keep me in control. And that is what i have wanted for so very long.

It still puts me in awe, even after a year. I see friends and talk to them, situations don't work out...people don't match, they aren't sure what they are looking for. And I feel very, very lucky to have been lead by the Universe to Master. Who has nothing but my care and safety in mind, who even though she can whip me, and use me, and make me cry, still afterwards, she will tend to the bruises, offer me water, protect me in the ways that she can...and that is what a Master is supposed to do.

I can protect myself. I can do things myself. I am capable of running my own life, but there was that part in me, the Slave heart that really wanted someone else to have control of me. To focus that energy, to burn it where necessary. And maybe its not just Her, its not...this isn't some up on a pedastal relationship, though i know its coming accross that way. This is about reality, and how two people match and meet each other's needs, and in the rocky world of relationships that don't last, or are dysfunctional, it is a rare gift to have this...not just Her, but the healthy, functioning supportive kind of love that we share, with all the kinkiness and pervy fun that we have along with it.

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06.26.03
11:43:04 AM

It's weird how when i am depressed, i really don't recognize how bad it is. I tend to minimize what i am feeling. Sure, I've been OK the past several months, since my mom died...I didn't take care of my life, but i was OK, nothing wrong with me. I wasn't doing housework, or following guidence and direction. I wasn't working out, i wasn't working, i wasn't going to Poetry events and open mics...we weren't interacting on the Sado/masochist side of things all that much, but I was OK!

Finally, i am coming out of this funk. Receiving the letter that gets me out of the childhood religion was a big huge tremendous help. Getting over "abandoning" my dad when he really needed me, was hard...getting over my mom dying was the easiest part in all of this.

But as i posted below, i have funny reactions to death.

Master was there and reminding me that i was under a tremendous amount of stress....really unbelievable levels...but i was ok. I'd ask Her "what stress?" And She would tell me, and i'd just toss it out of my head. I wasn't eating healthy, i was sleeping all the time, getting sick alot, watching too much television (yes i have proven that there is such a thing).

And really just falling apart without acknowledging that all of these life events were affecting me.

Now that i am on the other side of it, i can see what was going on with me, i can recognize and acknowledge what i was going through, however, i cannot necessarily define the emotional levels i lived in, because they were all pretty new to me.

I am surprised, and actually amazed and startled that Master is still here with me, supporting me. I am quite baffled by why? As poor of a slave that i have been over these last months, She did not punish me, or try to push me in directions that my mental state wouldn't accept. And that is a Master worth Adoration and devotion.

With all of that said, and that's a lot, i really owe Her my thanks and gratitude, and i really do have a plan i've been working on wanting to implement.

Here's the breakdown...

• It takes approximately 20-25 minutes to sort laundry. It takes less then five minutes to walk it down to the laundry room. It takes 1/2 hour to wash, and 45 minutes to dry...Once a week.
• It takes 1/2 an hour or so to fold and hang clothes.
• It takes approximately 1/2 an hour to 45 minutes to clean the bathroom thoroughly, and that's going slow, probably more like 20-25 mins.
• It takes about 10 minutes to unload the dishwasher, another 10 minutes to load it with the dirty dishes. It takes about 1/2 an hour to clean the kitchen thoroughly.
• It takes 10-15 minutes to scrub the floor (no mop-this is on hands and knees)
• It takes about 15 minutes to clean the living room, and bedroom so floors can be vacuumed, it takes 15 or so minutes to vacuum said floors and only that long because we have one of those bagless vacuum cleaners and we live in a 2nd story apt.
• It takes about 15 minutes to dust the house. About 10 minutes to vacuum the couch.
• It takes about 1/2 an hour to prepare dinner, depending on what i have completed prior to actual cooking time. And what i am cooking.
• It takes 5-10 minutes to scoop out cat boxes...about 1/2 an hour to clean them when i change the litter...

The dishes, cat boxes, and kitchen are daily duties...vacuuming needs to be every three days with our four cats. Dusting can be done once a week. Laundry, once a week.

So what is so FRIGGEN HARD about doing chores, and serving Master in the capacity of Houseboi? Why can't i seem to get the motivation to follow Her orders and suggestions?

I have free range pretty much most of the day, sometimes there are set things I have to get done...sometimes i don't get them completed. She has been very kind, and i have not been punished severely for these infractions...part of it is because of what i have been going through.

Now that i am over all the depression shit (for now), i need to adhere to a schedule for cleaning, working out, and creativity. I've come up with that...the problem is any time i write this stuff down, and try to stick to some kind of structured schedule, i get all resentful about being on the "clock"!

*SIGH* I'll get over that.

These things need to be done. I really don't want to go find a job until after the first part of Sept. when i get the mammogram...so for a few months, i need to buckle down, and show Master that i really really can do these things...Especially since She is not a punisher. And sometimes i wonder if i wouldn't be better at accomplishing things if She were. We've discussed it, and She doesn't want to use pain for the punishment, but i think of things like deprivation, or having to stand in a corner, humiliation (which we don't do, my head doesn't like that). There's all sorts of ways to punish somebody...but the more this goes on, i wonder how much more of a slacker i can become, UNLESS i motivate myself...

Which is what this journal entry is all about, how to motivate myself in order to accomplish simple daily tasks.

I stand there and look at the clean laundry on the bed, and walk away, how long, really would it take to fold it, hang it and put it away? (see above).

Hopefully putting this out there on the big bad world wide web thingy will help motivate me to become a better slave, in service to a Master who has my adoration and devotion. (no getting sappy now!)

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06.26.03
08:18:52 AM

Frustrated...

I know i haven't been keeping up on my blogs, but i couldn't access them yesterday, and i wanted to get this posted...AARRGGHH!

These are the things i need to think about and committ to...

1. I will beat the beast laundry
2. I will follow orders/directions/requests in a timely fashion
3. I will be available for use, mentally, spiritually, emotionally, phyiscally
4. I WILL start working out
5. I will get my stories, the flash fiction, put together in a sensible thread.
6. I will workshop and publish them...
7. I AM over the fear of my gender flux.

The negative messages my family re-instilled in me are slowly but surely filtering out again...

It's been a process. This last year with Master has been absolutely incredible in respect to the journey i am on. I went websurfing today and found some journals and sites of interest in regards to "lesbian slaves" I found a writer, who has some intense flash stories...i liked them very much. Why have i been so afraid? Moot question.
Fear had me locked down in its grip. I finally over came it and am loving life again. Death takes a toll on me that freezes me. No wonder i haven't been putting stuff together, working on my art. Two deaths in two years, it's been hard. I think i'm through it. And i am ready once again to face the challenge of artist.

Again, as a slave, i also serve.

What comes first?

The muse is loud again, clanging and knocking about inside my skull. The writing and creating help me tame the beast.

Sex tonight will be a good thing!

I can face my prolific self, and turn it into something productive and financially viable.

It's what i ask of the Universe right now. Funds to produce and create!

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06.25.03

Words tumble and bumble around my brain. I’m writing feature length poems and not willing to grab paper and pen to preserve them for the ages.

Phrases haunt me as I fall asleep, as I do laundry, as I wash dishes, or go outside for a cigarette. I’m still not ready.

I’m reading again, and getting applause and basking in a spolight I’ve run from before.

I don’t want to run now,

Just like I don’t want to run from the great love I am experiencing. I don’t want to sabatoge the work, get in the way of myself.

Fear of success.

Fear of failure.

And I continue.

All I can do is write this journal…and hope that the words make sense. They make sense in my head, but when I go to express them here on the page, they tumble around some more.

A collage. Is image real? A collage of my life from the beginning to now. I’m not great at description, detailing a particular event. I am good at expressing raw emotion and power. I am good at presenting. I listened to the featured poets last night, who have received grants and awards. I don’t write like that, but I received applause, as much as they. And still why do I feel I am not worthy of audience adoration???

I feel I am not worthy of a great woman’s love.

I have it though. Someone willing to go the long haul, and all of the damage I could do to make her go away. All the damage I could do to ruin my poetic career.

I am going to see both of these through.

I have pined away about not having love.

I have moaned the fact that somehow I am not as good a poet as someone else.

Both are wrong.

I plug into what the Universe is driving me to. How it wants me to be. It wants me to be happy, and I like happy. I am finding that contentment does not breed boredom. It’s not contentment, its satisfaction knowing that I have worked so hard, and asked for these things in my life. And I feel I am coming closer to success with my performance poetics.

Sometimes I feel less then because I am not “published” by some great demigod magazine of respect. I am self-published, have my second book, and working on two more…that’s published.

I tickle the underbelly of the idea of sending off to literary competitions. And then I think of rejection slips, and the hold up on my work if something doesn’t get accepted. Most competitions want unpublished work. So if I sent the chapbook off…then I’d have to wait for news before it was received well. The thousand dollars would be worth the wait, but not the $100.

So I plug along…I plod, I wonder, I imagine what might happen if I was published…but I am published…again I don’t fit into other people’s mold of what a writer is.

I need to look into getting bulk video and start selling copies of Pain/Pleasure Ratio, and Catharsis. Again I feel they aren’t good enough, again I am wrong. Internalized messages from parents who wanted me to be something other then what I am.

And I keep needing to ask Master for things, and the ideas keep getting shelved, and I get frustrated, because I don’t want to ask for one more thing we can’t afford…but the things I am asking for are viable and necessary for this artist to continue.

And then, I look at the want ads, for a job, if I was working, if I could bring in just a little bit more finances, then I could buy what I needed to continue the work.

And then I’d be more tired, and have less time to do the work I need to do as an artist.

Just maybe the Universe will cut me a break soon…

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06.24.03
12:26:17 PM

so i've been back into the feminism vs. bdsm, patriarchal structure vs. woman power, and how as a genderfuck this relates to me. I've been working on the chapbook. I'm putting some poems in there that won't go into the revised Catharsis, Dancing on the Tip of the blade, and they didn't make it into Myth of the One. They are poems about society and abuse. What women go through, and how we have unsung heros that do make a difference. Then i watch the news...

Then i think about my gender, and how i am not female-identified. I have some feminine energy, but it is not the presenting front. How can i publish these poems, when i am not in that energy again. How can i publish them when i have problems with feminism.

I know many transgendered male-to-females, who are stout feminists. Who reject the patriarchy they had to suffer under for being different. So being a boi and someone who writes about hard issues is really in line with my thinking. I can publish the poems, and i can even get up in front of an audience and read them...that is also part of the gender fuck. Most people call me sir, i pass naturally. So when i get up, dressed like i dress, and present a poem about women being abused, it really throws most people into confusion.

I read these poems publically wearing torn jeans and chains. I can read them now, dressed "down". Not a problem. I like what i write. It usually has a message somewhere (why i am resistant to Love Poetry, and don't write much of it). And it IS my voice. It was just rather shocking to be talking to my buddies about transgendered issues, and being at a boy pool party, and then coming home, and editing this new chapbook. I am not going to deny those parts of me that have spoken!

Just some thoughts.

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06.23.03

Well, it’s past another summer solstice. It was a good one this year. Got to go to a Diamondback baseball game. Also shared at a meeting Fri. night, for my three year anniversary. First time in over two years, and the first time since my niece, and my mom died…and my iguana. So it was good.

Therapy today. Master and I had a snafu on Fri. it wasn’t a big deal for her, but I’ve gone into reactive states again. Defensive about stuff. So instead of taking the time to stop and say I have to think about what I need to tell Her, I’m just blurting it out, in not-healthy ways. It didn’t last long, and we still got to Lambda on time. But this is like the third or fourth time in six months that I’ve just launched into reactiveness over my emotions, or things she’s done, that really aren’t personal.

I take a lot into account with her, and I really have tried to be fair, and honest, and responsive, and a “good” slave. (Whatever that means). There are still times I am going to have these outbursts. Therapist and I talked about it today. Life happens, and I can’t be perfect 100% of the time. No matter how much I want to be.

There are things that happen and I feel like when I was a kid, and mom was judging me on stuff.

We are getting really really close. It’s scaring me.. Ok, so time to push Her away, sabotage the relationship so that she doesn’t see how bad and wrong I am, and what kind of monster lives underneath.

Therapist and I talked about that. Those are the learned behaviors, the negative messages I operated with as a child and into adulthood. I didn’t know any better.

But I know better now. I should be able to do this without snapping, without getting grouchy or punchy or accusatory, or anything.

This is my first major relationship sinceNo. 1 ex, (10 yrs now), all the stuff I learned in therapy was just theory not practice.

This is my first ever healthy relationship. Where the other person is caring and loving, and not using our prior fights against me. Non-judgmental and understanding about the background I come from.

Also Her first relationship ever, so she is still learning how to do this. It’ll be ok. Therapist is a really good therapist. She provides the feed back, and reinforces the good qualities, and the progress I am making. Sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes I feel like I’m not going to make. I feel like just sliding back into a puddle of mud and immersing myself in misery again. I don’t deserve to be happy. I’ve caused a lot of grief in other people’s lives. What right do I have to be happy with all the misery going on in the world?

I see other people around me, and how unhappy they are, even when they have all the things that are supposed to make a person happy, and I wonder why they get stuck there, why can’t they truly find a way to be happy.

I don’t have the things in life that are supposed to establish a person in this society. I follow my heart. I am following love right now. I am sober and clean, and in a really good relationship that is bdsm oriented. I am a slave, and I am a boi, and a partner, a poet, an artist, a chef, and I am sexually competent. These things make me happy.

I’m supposed to have the right job, the right car, the right kind of girlfriend, and fit into some kind of box that society can make sense of…If I did that, I would be miserable. Stick me in a room with rubber walls.

A job isn’t important, making money at my art IS. Anything is possible. With Master in my life, and this new therapist, and reprocessing what I already learned a long time ago, finally letting the family issue to rest in a way that it doesn’t affect me any more; these are the important things. And by doing that, I will grow, and be happy, and eventually will find a way to secure finances.

I am rambling, I don’t care. I’ve been so depressed for so long, so not motivated to do things, and now, now the world is splitting right open again, and I really feel like dancing.

I met with someone on Sat. morning, who is using and drinking again…she reminded me, that is the Place I don’t want to go back to. My father and his house isn’t a place I want to go back to. My brothers with their dysfunctions. I spent years defending bro 2. And then he got married. After 5 years of telling me I could trust her, his wife turned vile on me after mom’s death. So much for friendship there. And that’s what my beloved brother is married to. And, I don’t need to defend him any more. He’s 44 years old, he ought to be able to be adult by now.

I’m the only one who got out, got away, and got a life. I’m the one who understands that this is a good thing. And my dad and my brothers made their own misery…thing is, they don’t see it as misery…they see me as the bad and the wrong one. The girl who wouldn’t do what she was supposed to.

Never been good at that.

But, I’m trying with Master. This new life, this freedom I have found. This ability to shake all those notions and ideas that the family drilled into me, that society drilled into me. I’m letting go of that guilt even. Though I lived a bohemian life in Tucson, I still had a lot of guilt over how I was living my life. And I still thought that something was really wrong with me for wanting to live differently.

I’m finding out that there is nothing wrong with the way I choose to live. If other people want to judge me, that’s their problem. There is someone in my life willing to take care of me…now I just need to do a little bit more on my end of it, and we can call it equitable.

I need to quit minimizing the amount of stress I’ve been under. I’ve been letting that stress go, and it’s very strange, now that it is leaving, I can see it, and feel it and recognize it, and I still wonder why I’m snapping.

Huh…well that’s it for now. Lots of rambling, and lots of getting this stuff off my chest…just needed to write. I hold onto stuff for too long lately, need to use my tools. I have them, I know them, I just need to use them!

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06.18.03
12:28:14 PM

So i'm tweaking some more, keep your eyes out for updates on my site. It still takes me three times as long as other people to do anything HTML...but the persistance is paying off.

We are off to Tucson today, to see Patrick Califia give a lecture on Censorship...I am so excited. Since we can't make it to Thunder this year...it might be my only chance to meet Him...And i am very excited about it...i still have a million things to do around here, but at least my laundry is washed! I need to bathe, and then pick up Master early from work and hit the Highway.

i seem to be in a very strange spot. Its not resistance, but its about asserting independence. And slaves aren't supposed to do that...however, the therapy i am in right now is helping me with self-esteem and other issues, and again, i am back to a dilemna i had when i was younger. How to be a slave, and be in service to someone, and still assert a level of independence that MY particular self-esteem requires...?

Any takers on answering that question? Email me!

That's all for now, back to tweaking...

And tweaking i am doing, great avoidence tactic. I am going to get up and go vacuum, and get some of the clothes put away...ARRGGHH! Where is my MOTIVATION? Am i not happy serving Master? Does she not provide me with a quality life, a place to live, and lots of television? Does She not meet my other needs? It is frustrating to be in this sort of weird "don't wanna do anything" loop. Not anything i should be doing. But isn't that how boys are? We want to do what we want to do when we want to do it. Is that the difference between a slave and a boi? But i am the hybrid...i am both a boy and a slave...and i get really confused about my priorities. She gives me priorities, and i ignore them...i have priorities, like getting my chapbook together...and i can't even motivate to do that...shucks, darn, drat...what should i do? Hopefully this little trip today will spark me back into the service aspect, and i'll be able to stay motivated...

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06.16.03

I’m good at wasting time. I’m not working, and I haven’t been doing much around the house. Last week I wasn’t well, and I finally started my period. The week before involved going to the doctor, and he has some news about my blood work. Right now its about motivation. Not having it, not wanting to do stuff. And I really don’t have a good excuse for it. There’s a bunch of stuff I need to do, but instead I’m shuttling through videotapes, logging them, trying to get them coordinated, so that we have tape to use again.

both Master and I are way into television, and want to keep the stuff we have. However, I am going to sacrifice my Xena stuff, and my x-files stuff. It’s fun to watch once in a while, but most of the copies are poor, and not in order, and definitely not complete. I’m keeping Simpsons, Malcom in the Middle, and whatever I can rescue of Futurama. This involves so much time. To look at the tapes, log them, go find sites that give me episode numbers so that when I dub them, they are in order…We’ve decided we are going to buy Deep Space Nine on DVD, so I don’t need to spend time transferring those over. She has almost the complete years on video, but most of it isn’t in quality condition.

I shudder to think what would happen. We make this investment and then if anything happened to us, well, I’d be out of luck as far as that goes. That’s ok though, at some point I could recover.

But both of us are sure that this is a long term thing…I still get the willies, but I’m hanging in there.

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06.13.03
08:52:03 AM

Haven't written much since being home. Part of that has been that it was my birthday on June 1st, and we had a party! People showed up and it was fun. We played "pin the handcuffs on the slave." I drew the slave and attached it to some foam core i had been lugging around for quite a few years...I used a pair of handcuffs to draw the ones we would pin on the slave. Then when we played the game, Master got to do the blindfolding and spinning and it was great fun. I got a Raptor Hotwheels track, and that should go on my boi blog.

Then last week was a round of Dr. appts. I have the state health thing that's covered by the gov't. So i'm getting poked and prodded, and getting my physical well being taken care of. I still have to do one more thing, get a chest x-ray, and that will involve taking off the collar, and Master and i are both somewhat reserved about it.

Last week was a good week. This week, i haven't been well at all. I don't know what's going on, but my tummy decided to not like me, and i've been all shakey. I don't want to run to the Dr for this. Not liking Dr.s and the medical field. I'm feeling better today, but i'm still shakey.

It's hard when i feel like this because then nothing gets done, and i don't make meetings, and even ones i like, i don't get the house work done, and I feel like i can't service Master as well. I haven't been feeling very sexy or sexual, so that's been on hold too...i'm working through it, but i haven't been writing about it.

I've been seeing a new therapist, and working out stuff about my family and my dad, and writing alot in my note book. There's a blog i like to check into once in a while, and she said what sums it up, unpoetic existance. I want to write, but i can't think of anything to write right now because life seems to be in a lull...just kind of hanging there, not doing any thing but being life.

And there's stuff i could be doing, and i still don't know what i want to be when i grow up. At some point i have to do some kind of work to make money, since unemployment decided to cut me off...(that's a whole other story that is just irritating the hell out of me right now, and I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!) And i can't figure out what kind of alternative job i can find in this blood sucking capitilistic town, where everyone drives the right car, has the right friends, and goes to the right clubs or meetings...again, i've been feeling disjointed, disconnected from where i am living. I haven't been getting out to the poetry venues, and i haven't been plugged in artistically. I just can't figure out what i need to do to make money. I really can't deal with the stress of kitchens right now, and there aren't many little places i can go to work at that would pay me what i am worth. So i'm sort of stuck...

Master is making enough money, but i just need to be able to do something that gets me out of the house a little while each day; well, i'll come up with something at some point, and it'll click... just waiting for the next click!

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