so tired I feel high

have you ever reached that point of exhaustion? floaty, running on pure adrenaline.

not my natural or preferred state, honestly.

im extremely excited for finals to be over and for my birthday, which is coming up :^)

ive gotten about 4-5 hours a sleep each night since the weekend, im impressed as always, at the limits my body reaches and pushes.

truly thankful for this body and this brain. well deserved rest this weekend, I can already envision myself going to bed early Friday night, or at least at my normal bedtime, which is 10:30, and sleeping in until 9am.

perfect morning,

hopefully its sunny, sans wind. so I can smoke a bowl and read on a blanket outside. tan topless. get my skin glowing to that gorgeous hue of dark caramel, that I love and adore. ill come back into my room after awhile, and contemplate my body on either of the large mirrors that are on walls adjacent to each other.

ill admire myself, posing and gracefully contorting myself, to acknowledge my balance and flexibility that I have been building since taking up yoga two months ago.

interestingly, I don’t feel the same anymore. not the same person I was last year really. mostly im nonchalant, just to maintain my calm while I chisel away at the mountain of thing I want, need, and must do.


And regarding him…

We haven’t seen each other in 3 months! We heard each other in February, when I participated in an open mic and he called me after to congratulate and shower me with admiration. “Endless talentless”, is what he said I possess. But I really just chalk it up to my appreciation of the arts. I would lie if I said I did not feel smugness when he told me he couldn’t stop smiling, well over an hour after performing my piece, which was about him.

“Another night, another thought I had. For you”

Then there was that instance on Valentines day he came up to drop me off an arrangement of roses and that book. We missed each other, but because he intended for it to be a surprise. I was hanging out with friends, and then had a yoga class.

Have you ever heard of the law of scarcity?

Somehow, I feel that I increase my perceived value as a woman and human each passing day.

I am close to getting burnt out though. Like I had mentioned once before, there is such thing as being too ambitious. Greed is bad. Moderation is good. We have to be self-aware of our own limitations, in order to be efficiently productive.

I am excited for birthday. I am excited to see him again.

I am thinking about telling him on Friday to come up to see me Saturday morning. Theres this Oaxacan coffee shop downtown that sells café de olla with chocolate. I think he would like it. I would wait till next Friday, but I’d rather just cot up with him for that 3 day weekend and not wait in line somewhere. 3 days, and then separate again unless something in the dynamic changes, contingent on that we both want the dynamic to change again.

Also, I haven’t had sex in almost half a year. I promised myself that I will only let him fuck me on the new mattress, in his new place, which by extension, will be my place as well. Ill let him fuck me again, on some pristine sheets, on a firm mattress with moving boxes sprawled in every other corner. Though I’ve been considering fucking him, and have been contemplating it… I think it would be interesting to say something along the lines that “I won’t let you inside my pussy… but I’m open to anal… ” which will be anal on him, and not me 🙂

I’m trying this whole sub thing and ive had a week without my Dom due to my finals, and honestly? not for me. or at least not a state I would like to constantly be in. Its fun though, or can be. I like being sub for fun-sies, but the more I think about it and consider my feelings after and during – I much prefer the thrill and power that one has as a dominant. But I also think it might be because I don’t necessarily desire my Dom.

How can I, when another man pervades my perverted thoughts? Each submissive fantasy I have, he’s usually the antagonist. But I’m trying to compartmentalize these thoughts, into a separate box, and maybe ship it out of my mind. Especially the really racist, rape scenes that I fantasize a lot about. He doesn’t fit that mold of the dominant I envision in thoughts fantasies. I’m perverted and a little disgusting, to be honest. The other day my Dom picked me up from my house and drove me to his, (my car was in the shop)

He had asked me if I wanted to start at his home or in the car, and I picked car just out of curiosity, to see what it would entail (for future reference). So he comes pick me up in his ford pick up (lol), wearing those Oakley white dad type shades, khaki cargo shorts, and a button down quarter sleeve shirt. I tried so hard not to laugh, I really did. I ended up scoffing to be honest, I think.

I live in a predominately Latino community, think the San Fernando Valley or Santa Ana. I ended up riding in the passenger seat with a clothespin on my nipples and pussy, my wrists in handcuffs. I was wearing tight bell bottom jeans, a tight Lycra type cropped shirt sans bra, and two French braids that day. By the time we got onto the main streets, there was a beggar at one of the islands at an intersection. He was to our immediate left and my Dom proceeded to put my jacket over my hands. I kind of dismissed it, the fact that he did this, and would have done so had he not told me that the reason he did it was so no one would call the cops. Imagine seeing a middle aged white man, riding in pick up with a handcuffed, much younger, Mexican girl in the passenger seat?

Those are the type of experiences I like to live at least once, before the day (if that is the case) that I am depraved of such experiences forever.

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