The Addict
I can't help but ooze at the thought of opening up my arms and feeling that rush. From that moment that it burns in my blood, it starts to pulse through my veins and runs through my entire body. It makes my skin crawl with this overwhelming sense of being alive. I feel so hot and can hear my my heartbeat pound with a thunderous roar, shaking the equilibrium into complete chaos. There's nothing better than this. It can comsume me and make me drop to my knees with the raw power of my weakness. I vividly remember that feeling of floating so hard that I would feel the slightest breeze like that first plunge in a fresh stream. With the slightest touch, a quiver, like the caress of fur on neglected skin. Faint and flushed, I would pull with a desperation to grasp at strands of coherency that were just out of reach. Could I escape or would this wave drown me? Why would I want to run from this perfect bliss? I would rather let go and fall into the engulfing embrace of warmth. Willingly submitted by my own helplessnes, I can't help but savor this perfect moment. This is where I long to be always. I could live without it, but why would I want to? This addiction could build and destroy me with a single moment. And yet, I've found nothing better. I'm just "in search of the eternal buzz".
(This entry is not about shooting up)
Background music: (K's Choice) Not An Addict
3/14/04
My Surrender
I've always tried to take pride in "walking the walk" to reassure my own virtues, values, and morals on life, love, honor, and respect, to myself. It became horrifyingly obvious to me that I didn't have the courage to be vulnerable and allow myself to be truly happy, with whatever route my life should take me. And the only person that I'm robbing is myself. Why should I not accept that at any moment I could be happy? That's easy. I didn't allow myself to do so out of my own fear of pain. I've delved into the pain long enough that I'm alright and even comfortable with the pain now. I know the pain of a broken heart and broken dreams, as well as most people. This internal conflict has gone on long enough. "All the fear has left me now. I'm not fighting anymore." I've felt constricted by this shielded skin for too long and it's time to shed it. Cherishing every moment in life without regret is difficult. I feel like a withered plant from a winter in my life. Now is the spring of my life. I just need to be watered and nurtured to bud and blossom. Now I'm okay with reaching toward the sky and letting the light shine down and warm me, even if it's just a passing front. I ready to feel alive again. I'm so delighted too. This is no momentary change. This metamorphosis is for always.
:)
Many thanks to the inspiring couples in my life, especially Dom & Crystal, Chris & Beth, Tony & Mo, BER & CC, Deb & Skye, S&M, TP&JM, MC&K, T&V, and everyone else who has helped guide me with their wisdom.
Background music: (Steve Vai) Tender Surrender
3/19/04 "Fitting?"
I've had a fascination with many types of restrictive bondage. It's one of the inspirations that drive me to do the style of rope bondage that I prefer to practice. There's a certain comfort and security in the bindings. Unfortunately, I rarely get to delve into that role myself because being avid with rope inevitably curses you to almost always being a Top. But once in a while, I do get a taste, even if it's just for a moment. I went browsing around town to some of the different shops in downtown SanFran yesterday and ended up finding a store that was really well stocked with dungeon gear. All kinds of leather restraints, bodybags, jackets, suspension gear, and everything else. I found myself intruiged with the suspension sleeves and mitts. After checking out the store, I was asked if there was anything that I wanted to "check out or try on". So I helped myself to the harnessed single sleeves and split mitts. After having the harness and sleeves laced up, I asked to have it tightened. I really wanted to "get the feel" of these sleeves. Feeling the pressure of my arms strapped together, from elbows to wrists, started to give me that sense of comfortable vulnerability that I don't often get. I asked to see just how restrictive and versitile these sleeves could be, so the shoulder straps and lacings got tighter and tighter as I was maneuvered from position to position of possible bindings and applications. I couldn't contain my excitement, and it showed. "Go ahead and try to get out of them!" Was I being challenged? hmmm... I'm quite flexible and have had a lot of practice escaping from my own ropework, but this was completely different. I relaxed, flexed my shoulder out of socket (one of the odd things I can do) and slid the shoulder harness down to my elbows. "Damn! You are flexible! But I bet you can't get out of those mitts." And the challenge was on! I slid my hands into the split mitts and got strapped behind my back to the opposing elbows. I liked the feel of the mitts except for the wrist straps. So again I relaxed my right shoulder out of socket and straightened my left arm to feel the straps pass my elbows. But they didn't come apart. The wrists were cross-strapped. So I just curled and stepped though them so that my hands were in front and easy to see and undo. This time it was a bit more difficult and took about 2 minutes. I really enjoyed the sleeves though, and my image of being in them is stuck in my head. I can't help but wonder if I'm drawn to the helplesssness or empowerment of bondage. Even though I don't get to experience them both equally, I'm definitely a Switch!
(NIN) Happiness In Slavery
3/26/04
I started making a pair of sleeves for myself, since I didn't get around to buying them while in SF. I make many things, but it's been so long since I've made something for myself. I'm improving the design to make them a bit more restrictive and versitile. Then there is a new challenge. Finding someone with the ability to really put them to use and test their ability and mine.