31 March 2017

Fuck it . . .

I can't quite process *this*, I can't shake images from my head that have crept in.  I can't seem to escape the conversation we had only a few hours before. 

The "what if's" torture the mind.  What if I had known. What if I could have done something. What if I didn't do enough. 

Fuck you what if's. 

There's lots of things I can't quite process right now. I honestly don't know why life has a way of merrily going along, with lots of wonderful things and lots of positives and then out of nowhere it throws shit at full force.  And the wonderful, it disappears as quickly as it started!

Fuck it!

I spent this morning at an emergency specialist appointment for my son, no waiting for normal referrals here.  As if he hasn't had enough battling with his health in his life, it seems as if other issues are creeping in now too.

Fuck life!

Fuck the what if's, fuck it. Fuck you life!

Fuck it all!!!!!

30 March 2017

A life is stilled.

No matter what anyone says that someone shouldn't feel guilt, it doesn't stop the feelings of guilt when you learn someone has attempted to take their own life.

Not only attempted, but succeeded.

I recognise that someone's decision isn't my fault.  I recognise that there have been no warning signs and that just as many others didn't, I didn't have any idea either. 

But, my goodness, when I was speaking with them in the very late hours of the night and into the early depths of yesterday morning. I quite simply had no idea, there was no inkling of their feelings, their intentions.  There was no suggestion that in a matter of less than 24 hours they'd be gone.

How could I not see it?  How could I not have known?  How could I not have heard the things that they didn't say?

We spoke of so many things, and yet, it would appear that so many things were left unspoken. 

Why didn't I see it? Hear it? Feel it? Why couldn't they share?

My mind is haunted by words that were never uttered, haunted by thoughts of could I have done more.  I have a deep sense of guilt deep within my heart.  My heart aches for them, that they were left feeling in life, that nothing was actually worth staying for, and right now, I am angry at myself for the fact that I didn't see it, didn't hear those feelings and didn't see what was going to happen a few hours later.

My mind has played over the conversation over and over again, looking for clues, did I miss an outstretched hand that they wanted me to take?  And yet, no matter how many times I play it over.  There is nothing. Nothing which could have suggested that they had reached the end.

I feel as if I've let them down in some monumental way.  I feel as if I've failed them, but also, so very sad that they were left in a place where nothing else was an option. 

Did I fail in being the friend to them that they needed?  Even though I was the person they reached out to, just as they've done before.  And yet still I didn't know, I didn't see it, I didn't feel it.  They didn't show it.

We talked, we even laughed, sometimes through tears, but we laughed.  How could I not have known?  How could I fail them so very badly?

And I have. 

I know this was their choice, THEIR decision because they couldn't cope with where life is, the things that are happening.  My rational mind even tells me it's not a reflection on me.  But, it does feel that way, somehow.

Why does it feel as if I've failed them?

Because it does feel that way and more.

I've lost a lot of people from life, my Mum, my brother, my grandparents, a cousin my age, a close friend.  I've even lost an uncle to suicide, and each of those losses carry their own feelings, they bring their own types of grief and pain.

But right now . . ?  Right now guilt and sadness and pain and loss and a deep sense of failure flows through me right now.  A sense of failure but more so, the heart-breaking realisation that they couldn't reach out enough, that they couldn't find the words.  Or was it us not hearing?

Oh how I wish I knew.

I feel anger towards myself that I didn't see it. Anger and guilt and pain and loss.  And a deep sadness that a life has ended in this way, that someone was filled with so much pain, filled with so much sadness, so much heartache that for them, there was no other option.

Did they feel as if they were not cared about? 

So many people showed them this wasn't the case, maybe they couldn't see it, or maybe we failed in showing it enough. 

Did we really fail?  Did we really let them down? 

Or was it just me.

The day is dark and my heart aches right now.

To my Friend

May you find the peace within your
heart that you were
not able to find here.
I hope your anguish
will now forever cease
And that your deep anxieties
will be replaced by endless peace.

I love you. Always.

Terminal Velocity

There was a death today.

I was already in my mourning
tidy black shoes,
modest black dress,
purse filled with tissues.
Understated. Muted.

And in horror, I watched the

freefall to death. I
froze, unable to take my eyes
away from this tragic site.

I watched as

it reached
terminal velocity,

against a bright, sunny sky.
Painfully bright,
ironically sunny.

Achieving terminal velocity

and falling…


until after an eternity, after hitting the ground,

I saw it die.

29 March 2017

"Let go"

"Let go" it cries,
wanting to be released.
Wanting to feel a freedom
of the world as it flies
on it’s own. Soaring above,
floating away.
But it's caught
here and there,
"Let go" it cries,
wanting to be released.
Wanting to feel a freedom
of a different direction,
a different path,
a new life.
There is no pulling it
back, as the string
is released, letting it go.
it floats beyond reach
with its own wishes
and hopes
and dreams.


“I close my eyes, inhale, and feel a rush of heat and energy that takes my breath away.

It is the feeling of wanting something so much that it borders on an actual need, and the power and urgency of this need overwhelms me.”
Emily Griffin, Love the One You’re With

*This* is one of those times when no other words are needed.  These words, this picture says it all.

The want. The desire. The need....


28 March 2017


She was led on the bed propped up against pillows, leaning to one side, her head gently resting on her hand as she watched him standing by the side of the bed.  He stood there, slowly removing his clothes, his eyes not breaking the stare that she held him in.

There was an animal in both of their eyes.

Hers watching her prey, his watching her trying to decode the thoughts and images that were flashing before her eyes which had darkened with a lust and desire as she watched him strip.

He stood there, completely bared before her. 

She watched him,  studying his body closely. 

She took in the shape of his lips and wanted to devour him with her own.  Her eyes took in the shape of his neck and she wanted to kiss and bite him.  She took in the shape of his naked torso, his cock that was slowly beginning to betray his own body and his own desirous thoughts.  She looked at his face once more, smiling as he blushed, aware that she had read his thoughts without really knowing what they were and that she had seen the involuntary movements of his stiffening cock.

He waited until she beckoned him into bed.

There was always that moment.  The moment he waited for her command that he may join her.  He climbed on the bed slowly, crawling across the mattress on his knees, his balls and stiffening cock hanging down below him.  She took in the sight before her, her depraved and lascivious thoughts running through her mind as she watched him come closer.

He was co-operative prey. Her prey. 

And she was watching him, waiting for that moment when she would claim his mouth and his body with her own.  He blushed again as if embarrassed by his own thoughts and still she did not break his gaze.  There were no prudish thoughts here, there was no room for prissiness.  There were animals in their eyes. 

He reached out, stroking the side of her face as she leaned into his touch.  His hand reaching into her hair, gripping it tightly, pulling her closer to his mouth until she began to crush his lips against her own.  They kissed deeply, tongues probing and exploring and as a responsive, appreciative groan escaped from his lips it sent a shiver straight through her body to the depths of her.  The more their mouths explored, the more she longed for him, desired him, needed him, wanted him.  Pulling away slightly, she wiped the wetness from her lips, she felt free in her desires for him, he felt uninhibited by her gaze that fell upon him. 

Their faces only centimetres apart and she watched him still, his hand still gripping her hair as she moved her head slightly to feel the pressure of his fingers pulling on her hair, she breathed in deeply, her mouth open slightly needing to meet his own once more. 

And his cock is stiff, jutting out from his body and yet not quite close enough to be touching her, and she leaned back in for more, grabbing him, biting at his neck and shoulders, watching him flinch at the short sharp bites that left small red marks in a trail across his shoulders. 

Her mouth moved to his nipples, biting him hard as he flinched at the sudden sharpness of pain.  Her hand reaching up to touch his face, fingers tracing the line of his lips and his chin, still wet from their passionate embrace of moments before. 

And she began to devour him, aggressively, his own aggression and force meeting her own as he sunk his teeth into the depths of her neck her own appreciative groan escaping from her lips made his cock stiffen further. 

She leaned back, exposing herself to his mouth, to his unrelenting teeth and the sharp pain of flesh trapped between them as he started to bite her neck, her shoulders and down to her breasts.  Gripping them in his hands, the pain came over her in exquisite waves, from the point of contact from his mouth, down through her body to her cunt.  She could feel her own wetness growing with each contact his mouth made.

His finger nails clawed at her bare skin sending shivers down her body, goosebumps forming on her skin, peppering her arms and legs, the moans that escaped from her mouth spurred him on further.  His own hunger matching hers, his own aggression matching the building onslaught of hers.

Her hair still wrapped in his fist, his face still cupped in her hands, his mouth being assaulted with hers.  She wanted him, longed for him, she wanted him inside her.  Without loosening the hand in her hair he reached down between her legs and attacked her cunt.  Her juices enabling him to easily slide in a finger, then two, then three.  Fucking her with his fingers her body reacted pushing against him, wanting him to fill her deeper.  She wrapped herself around his shoulders and hung on to him.

She came hard.  Her body wracked with the orgasm that ripped through her body, soaking his fingers,  and as he pulled his glistening hand away, his face replaced the fingers that had been buried deep within her, his tongue delving deep, bringing her once again to the edge of ecstasy with his mouth sucking and biting and delving deep into her cunt.

She came hard again, more than once, more than twice, he was stealing her pleasure, taking her orgasms with his mouth.

The smell of sex filled the air, she was inviting him in deeper, drawing him closer, wanting him to ravage her with his mouth. 

And as he continued to steal the orgasms from her body, urged on by her reactions and the sounds that escaped from her lips, the juices surged from her into his mouth, over his face, she was lost to him in that moment.  She felt him taking her in, her wetness, the juices that he had brought from her, as she held him tightly.

She wanted him, and shamelessly opened herself to him, inviting him in.

He accepted her invitation.

I awoke

I awoke with
the hard longing
of hunger
to have you here.
To see you
naked beside me,
bared before me.
I awoke with
a hard longing
of hunger
to hold you,
to touch you,
to kiss you,
to hurt you.
I awoke with
a hard longing
for you to
enter the depths
of my desire,
and me.

27 March 2017

Oh, how I want

Oh, how I want
Stripped naked
so I can cover you with
my hands, my body
my mouth.
Oh, how I want
to trace each line of
your body,
feeling you
feeling you
relax under the touch
of my fingers,
of my
Oh, how I want to
hear the
sharp intake of breath
as I lean in covering
your mouth with my own,
to feel your lips
pressed against mine,
drawing you in to the warmth
of my mouth,
deeper and closer.
Oh, how I want
to taste every last
part of you,
to touch you,
hold you
and feel you as
I devour.
Tangling in a closeness
of a passionate

Oh, how I want YOU.


Never allow anyone to rain on your parade and thus cast a pall of gloom and defeat on the entire day.  Remember that no talent, no self-denial, no brains, no character, are required to set up in the fault-finding business.  Nothing external can have any power over you unless you permit it.  Your time is too precious to be sacrificed in wasted days combating the menial forces of hate, jealously, and envy.  Guard your fragile life carefully.  Only God can shape a flower, but any foolish child can pull it to pieces. Og Mandino

Take out the comment about God shaping a flower (certainly doesn't match my beliefs) and these words are very true today.

Not only does it seem that people are trying to rain on my parade, they're trying to be a full on monsoon!

It feels as if someone is pulling the flower apart, petal by petal, pulling it away and throwing it into the wind.

I'm tired. 

It's been an emotionally draining and difficult weekend.

I feel totally depleted.

The darkness of early Saturday morning only managed to drift away slightly and that feeling of emptiness has certainly made it's presence felt.

Insomnia is kicking my ass right now. My brain filled with it's cacophony of thoughts is sapping away any last bit of energy that I'm desperately trying to hold onto.

I need to re-group, I need to have some serious down time, but some down time filled with closeness and warmth.

I just have a longing to be close right now and yet it feels as if there is an insurmountable distance. 

I am longing to have. . . no, I want to have . . .no, I NEED to have moments of sharing closeness . . . intimate moments of warmth and tenderness. 

Moments of holding, of gentle kissing, of just "being", lots of moments with him. . . damn I long, want and need that so much right now! 

This weekend cannot come quick enough! 

26 March 2017

What was, now isn't and what never will be.

There are, some days throughout the year that I really think we could do without.

Mothers Day is one of them.

There are so many people who struggle with such a day, those who have lost their mothers or those who have never really known them, those who cannot be mothers themselves, those who have tried to become a Mum and  cannot, or have tried and have lost, those who have had children and have suffered the heart-breaking loss.

It brings a whole host of emotions and pain, sadness and anger to the surface, a time when people silently struggle with what this day is and their own conflicted feelings.

For me, it is a harsh reminder of the void that exists since my Mum passed away, it is a sad reminder that it was this time of year that we received the news that her illness was terminal and there was literally nothing they could do.  We didn't have a great relationship when I was growing up during my teen years, mainly following the separation of my parents, but from my late teens after the death of my much younger brother, we developed a relationship that blossomed.  In adulthood she was a rock, she was a great support and more than that, she was my best friend.  And even now, many years later, not a day goes past without my missing the fact I cannot pick up the phone to talk to her, to share news, to catch up.  I miss her.

I may have grieved, but her loss is still so deeply felt and this day doesn't stop the feelings returning, the sense of loss and the void that exists without her being here. The memories of her suffering and how much life changed after she'd gone. 

This day, is a harsh reminder that I was there with her, holding her hand as she took her last breath from this world, but it is also a reminder that I was there when someone so tiny was coming into this world, . . .into my world and yet never got to take a breath. 

This day is tinged with a sense of sadness and loss, a stark reminder of what was once there and is no longer and a harsh reminder of what could have been (however long ago it may have been) and yet, never will be.

And yet, there is something quite wonderful - I am a Mum. 

I am blessed by the wonderful son that I have and this is something I treasure so deeply.  He makes me proud every single day as I watch him grow into the wonderful young man that he is.  I am forever thankful and blessed that in being his Mum I have been able to learn what real love truly is. 

And for that reminder, I am thankful.

I am blessed and I know I am deeply lucky and yet the other feelings that sometimes creep (and which sometimes come full force like a fucking tsunami) to the surface on a day like today, tinges the most wonderful with sadness, with a sense of loss.

Such dissonant feelings that get pushed to the surface for one day. 

A reminder of what was and now isn't; a reminder of the potential but what will never be; but also a reminder of the wonderful for which I will always be thankful.

25 March 2017

Tears of remembrance

Tears of remembrance
roll streaks of blackness
down her face.
Smearing the memories and
pain onto a
canvas of pale skin.
A hand, a tissue, cannot wipe 
away the sadness or
memories that engulf.
She looks at the page before her,
no words of
sentimentality just a
reality of pain and sadness.
A silent tear freefalls
onto the journal notebook
that sits before her,
the place where she writes her
innermost thoughts
and depths and feelings.
A silent tear that smudges
the beautiful words she
has written.
Blurring them into 
streaks of
blackness which match the
canvas of her skin.
Tears of remembrance.
Of sadness.
Of loss.
As she searches for
words of harmony and
of warmth,
of love.


Open space. 

I'm lucky to live a short drive away from endless fields.  I've just spent almost 2 hours out with the dogs, walking through fields, the warmth of the late spring sunshine beating down on my face, an occasional gentle breeze . . .

. . .  .and silence.

An occasional cockerel crowing in the nearby farm making his voice heard, the sound of the branches moving in the breeze, an occasional plane flying overhead, but apart from that . . .

 . . .silence.

There is something about moments like this which can ground you.  Which can help to ease the darkness of thoughts.  The warmth of the sun making you feel a little better.  And so I walked. 

And walked.

Nothing but open space, the dogs running around through the fields and fresh air.

Lost in thought, lost in reflection, but with a better perspective than had been present during last night and this morning.  Lots of time thinking about the time I was able to share this week, of being close, of everything that is happening . . .of the journey ahead.  Lost in thought in terms of feelings, searching for an understanding almost a clarity of what they are. 

But there is something about moments like this which can just be peaceful.  Which can just bring a sense of calm. 

Which are needed.


Am I disappointed that what was expected into my email box didn't arrive? 

Or am I actually more disappointed that it has passed without comment, as if it (I, *we*) holds no meaning? 

Or, is that actually a reflection? 

Does it, does this, hold meaning? Importance?

There was no mention that it wouldn't be there, no word, no anything.  Not even an excuse, not even an "I can't".  And that is disappointing.

Is it because it shows a lack of care, a lack of interest?  Is it because it's just a game? Does it actually show all of those things?

Was it forgotten? 

If so, that doesn't help in the slightest. 

Being forgotten is like a kick to the stomach - it's worse than something not actually being done.

It whispers an "it's not important", it speaks a "you don't matter", It utters an "I don't care".  It shouts an "I'm not interested" or "what you want holds no importance"  . . .or is it screaming a "fuck you!" all without a single word being uttered?

It was done to learn, to explore, to connect . . . at least from my side it was, trying to help the disconnect, as well as delving, trying to show from my side that I do care, that I am interested, that I want to learn so very much and that I will take steps to try to work with the distance and the situation we are in.

It's not so much of an empty inbox, it's more because it wasn't worthy of time, of thought or that it wasn't even worth a respectful "it won't be there". 

I can't help feeling a little kick in the stomach, a little slap in the face . . .a little disappointed.

Passing the keys . . .

Chastity, something that I've always been drawn to. 

I've blogged about it quite often, including THIS entry where I wrote about what's in it for the lady. 

That blog post talks at length about what it is I love, what I get out of keeping someone locked and denied, and let's face it, I get a WHOLE lot out of it.  And yet, right now, I'm getting other things from it that are quite new, quite different.

It is something that has played a part in the past in varying degrees.  But there have always been similar aspects of it that have run through the "act", familiar thoughts, familiar feelings.  I know how it feeds my "beast", I know how it feeds my desire and need for control.  And really, there hasn't really been anything that has felt quite different for me. 

Until now. 

There are a whole host of things which are contrasting for and with me right now.  And this is different too.  I had lots of time to reflect on this as I drove home today, thoughts going to what is different, why it feels different.

And I LOVE the fact that it is.

I LOVE the fact that there are things that are new and fresh and it's like seeing things which I've always enjoyed, always loved or felt drawn to through different eyes, with different thoughts and feelings.

And yes, the feelings are important - chastity, is still very much, as indeed everything is for me, emotionally driven. 

I have no desire to deny someone if it is emotionally lacking. 

It is this with everything, without that emotion, without those feelings, everything is just empty, I don't want empty, I want those feelings that emotionally drive.  I want things filled with a depth of feeling, that overwhelming sense of emotion that drives so much of the things that we may do. 

The things that I do. 

And while it may be quite soon, today, I have the keys . . . and sometimes . . .just sometimes for however much I may think, or reflect or write, sometimes the right words, just cannot be found. 

But, regardless of how soon, regardless of how early, there is still emotions driving right now.  I haven't quite processed all of the thoughts and feelings that I may have about it all right now . . .but there are emotions driving.

And, they, the keys . . . are here with me.  :-D

While he is locked up (first pic) I have the keys on a necklace around my neck (second pic).

It isn't a small thing.

Someone choosing to give up this part of them to ultimately be controlled by another.  I am not indifferent to just how hard it is to be denied, to give that up.  I am quite aware that it's not an easy thing but I am quite aware of how it also makes me feel.

It's a big step. 

Both for him as he gives that up and indeed for me in terms of having control of that.  It's a big step, but a rather delicious and wonderful one and while I haven't quite processed the new feelings I have, he may have the device to remind him, something serving as a physical reminder if we are not together (along with the lack of physical release of course), but I have something physical to remind me too. 

And that . . .that is rather quite fabulous!

*originally written Thursday March 23rd*

And I hate it

There are moments, moments like this, like today, where there's a black cloud filling the day.  The sky outside may be clear and blue, the sun maybe shining, but here inside my head, over me, surrounding me is a big black cloud of fucking horrible funk.

And I hate it.

And I can't shake it.

I know it's a whole host of reasons, the arrival of Mothers Day which brings a whole host of feelings to me.  Throw in two nights of terrible insomnia, and the wonderful feelings of spending a matter of hours with someone followed by the drop and reality that it won't be for a while.   

And it all brings about a cacophony of emotions and feelings that feel like a stormy sea bashing at the sea defences. My defences.  I feel storm battered.

And I hate it.

And I want to turn the clock back to how I felt in the early hours of Thursday morning, the moment where I had an arm draped across my chest, a head sleeping on my shoulder, the weight of which weighed heavily but just brought about a sense of closeness in the darkness of the night that even when sleep eluded me I was filled with such a sweet and wonderful feeling.  And that seems so far away from where I am right now.

And I hate it.

I didn't sleep well last night. 

Neither did I the night before.  Instead the past two nights have been filled with a whole host of difficult feelings, painful reflections, I've had memories flood back in of the moment that people have literally drifted out of life, my witnessing their taking their last breath.  Haunted by the recollection of the time I almost drowned, I led there feeling just as I did at that moment, the way it felt as the water slowly filled my lungs as I saw life, my own life slowly ebb away.  I've had recollections of times in my life where it's been filled with such a sense of deep loss.

I feel haunted by the sense of loss, emptiness and sadness.  I feel like I'm drowning under a big black cloud.

And I hate it. 

And I'm trying to find the rays of light coming through the cloud and yet I am filled with a sense of foreboding, a sense of fear, as if something is going to go tearing through life and rip something else away from my heart. 

Right now, my heart feels vulnerable.  *I* feel vulnerable and quite alone. (A very rare thing for me to feel!)

And I hate it. 

Not the feeling of my own vulnerability, so much as that of my heart.  There is a beauty and a strength and a power in being vulnerable, of opening yourself up to someone and being vulnerable with them, to them, to the feelings you have.  But this heaviness, this darkness, this sense of emptiness that is enshrouding right now is quite overwhelming. 

And I hate it.

And my goodness, I'd give anything right now to transport me back to those early hours of Thursday morning, for that sense of warmth and closeness and just "being" in that moment. The closeness of skin, the closeness of feeling and watching him sleep, watching him breath, but just feeling. That moment.

But, the reality? Is that I'm as far away from that moment as I possibly could be.

Instead, I'm drifting into the darkness of a storm, the depths of funk that have come out of nowhere.  I feel as if I'm in a "drop", I feel disconnected in a way I don't want to be disconnected and yet, I can't disconnect from these horrible feelings.

And I fucking hate it!