let’s just say it’s been a trip down memory lane tonight.
it’s one of those trips that’s made me come back and wonder where the hell i actually am right now. whose messy little cabin scattered with toys is this?
there are those good, wholesome things about life here, for sure: fresh air and mama friends, raising a little girl and channeling my warrior princess, eventually becoming a queen… i am a queen, her queen.
Emerging from the chrysalis, though, and in learning to use my wings, i sometimes forgot where I’d come from, how i’d once writhed my way through life.
that undulating, youthful thing, she was fearless with a strong sense of morals and loyalty and thus, never expected to have to explain herself. facing a blank page was an adventure that looked toward a horizon: to fill one you had to cut the mind loose (and very often hold the bladder). to experience the story writing itself like that was to experience the story multi-dimensionally. what could not be in this one, perhaps was how it went down in another, and there was so much thrill and joy in exploring that, using my mind to answer what ifs.
in my imaginary world, where the catalog of human emotions is encyclopedic, those words would just fly out and land in their appropriate places on the page. i went there without question: i must be trusted to go there because i will always concoct stories. That’s my safe place.
maybe fifteen years ago, i was offered a job at a house of discipline, located in a non-descript building in midtown Manhattan. I was hired to work the front desk and it was the absolute dream experience for an acute observer with a sense of adventure.
i learned some things. the slight distance from it now is healthy though it feeds me to this day. It still gives me things to think about, things i should probably be spanked for.
what a need it can be sometimes, to feel like you have a place where it’s safe to play in a way that doesn’t involve censorship.
I am a moth-winged queen but that squiggly fat grub, she’s in there, caged and slightly sedated at the moment but oh, she’s in there, trying to remember how it is to writhe and what it boils down to, really, is this:
i wanna dry hump my girlfriend in the corner of a bar where we are all adults and then come home and fuck my wife (relax they are one in the same). and then we can wake up the next morning and be good and really happy parents.