During a stressful time yesterday, I was on the phone with my boyfriend while he was talking to my best friend.

Boyfriend: Oh god, someone stole her back up candy..
Best friend: ..OH MY GOD, NO!!

The fact that they know how much having backup candy in my bag helps stressful situations is hilarious. xD I've got amazing people in my life.

This is one of the most important poems I have ever read in my entire life.

2:36 AM
2 am is for the poets who can't sleep because their minds are alive with words for someone who's not there.

For the alcoholics drinking themselves into amnesia to forget someone who left.

2 am is not for the lovers asleep in each other's arms.

It is for the lonely, the ones who are in love with the loved, but are not loved in return. 

I was just told that I didn't give my contact information to strangers on CM because "they're not white enough for me". 

Alright.

My fucking god. I come to the student center to study for my biology exam tomorrow and there is a group in the corner playing D&D and I'm like 10% sure that they are just making their own fantastical porn. This broad has taken 3 halfling and 1 orc dick in the last 10 minutes and she's been a prostitute all of twice. I don't even know. She only got 18 pleasure points for it though, so apparently she's not very good. I just, I don't know what's going on.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5nT0g887ShE

It's always going to be a good track when it's Missy Eliot and dubstep. Definitely something to bump if you're trying to get pumped for something!

I've got exams ALL week. Wish me luck!

I drove through Norco with my stereo blasting as loud as it went "Let It Go" from Frozen and I was possibly as dramatic as possible, singing into my Miguel Jr.'s taco. 

When I was with my ex, he wasn't into turning up the radio and singing and dancing in the car, even on the longer drives and would get annoyed with me when I did it. But, I forgot how much I absolutely love it. It instantly brightens my mood.
Let the storm rage on, the cold never bothered me anyways. 

I'm putting neon green in my hair.

I don't know why. 

This is what happens when I'm bored.

I found my kitty shirt that says "How do you like meow?" 

I'm going to wear it tomorrow.

I'm so excited! :D

Also, the voodoo doll is done. I chose to have a pink pin and candle that represent hope. Hopefully the lwa answer my request!

[I'm all agitated with someone who's back on meth; enjoy my anger.]

The addiction you fed only encouraged the voices in your head and I don't know if it's the illness or the meth but I can smell it on your breath like alcohol on your tongue and you'll keep saying you're young, but you're not and you must've forgot that you're almost 24 and you're trying to even some score that was set long ago that only you know and you won't let me in even though you won't win and I'm not angry about that. You can't blame me for pushing you off the wagon because you weren't ever on, and I can't remember how long that it's been since I quit and you said you did too, but who knew, that you'd just fuck me over in the end. I'd pretend that I don't know for the sake of peace, all I want is you to take responsibility at least, for all of the things that you've said and you've done, that put me on the run for many days and many nights to escape the fights that you promised wouldn't happen anymore.

People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones but who cares if you're alone? It surely isn't me because I'm definitely better than you ever were and you'll ever be, and that's sad but you had your chance and you couldn't even commit to the bitch that stood up for you and believed all your lies, but I saw through your disguise and picked up the shards as your delusions tumbled like cards, and your lies stacked up and I didn't give a fuck what you thought or what you did anymore.
You promised me that it would stop and this time was the last, but I've heard that before and that phrase has past its expiration date and it's too late for you to think I'd believe in a thing you said. What are the voices in your head saying to do now?

You said you wished me a violent death and with my last breath, I'd have to say "fuck you" because I'm through with your games and your lies and your shame and I won't lug it around like a fucking baggage that isn't even mine and it doesn't cost a dime to just drown yourself already.

You can't be angry at me for letting the cat out of the bag, you never once appreciated what you had and now your little cunt is pretty sad that you aren't the person you said you were and I warned her that you weren't and never were going to be. As for me, I'm not angry at the things that you said or that you did or that you'll do because I haven't a clue what the future has in store except it'll be free from you and that'll do for now.

Just remember that I've got the ability to turn your whole life upside down if I choose to do so and you don't get a choice like I didn't have a voice inbetween the meth and the other personalities that occupy your head. So just leave me alone, will you?

Moo for me, baby.

My weekend project for class: Make a voodoo doll.

This should be exciting. I think I'd like to make mine out of sticks and cloth. She wants it as natural as possible, which I think is quite beautiful. I think it'll be a good exploration of voodoo as a religion. 

I wrote this as a message to someone, but I think it's a message that everyone on this site should read.

I find it interesting how people act. I mean, so many women on this site will disclose their inner most desires, willing to say "treat me like fuck meat. I'm worthless" but they aren't willing to talk about their feelings; who they are beside the submissive or slave. I don't know how it's become more acceptable for someone to say "I like abuse" than to say "I'm depressed " or "I need help". I've always found this lifestyle to be open. To be full of people who are on the fringes of society and seen as perverts and social deviants. Yet, they act as if that's all they are. That what they're willing to do to another person defines them as a person. We're so quick to put labels on ourselves: dominant, submissive, switch, slave. We attack those who don't understand or find our way of living disgusting but we're no different. We're no different than the people who think being a grocer is their identity. That being a Christian is their entirety. It doesn't make sense to me how most men on here won't show who they are, where they come from, what makes them tick. Yet they'll still demand respect and reverence as if they're some gift from God. I'm a healthy 20 year old woman and I love sex, but I'm happier masturbating than submitting to a person that don't know or won't admit to who they are and what they do outside of the bedroom.

I wish I hadn't gone MIA on geocache in June 2011. It seems that, number 1, my cache was placed too close to active tracks (dumb move on mine and my ex's part, but we were only kids), and number 2, there's now construction that has swept it away. It's a shame. I'd have liked to see what was left and how many people did find it. I think I'll do a new one in Norco tomorrow. For any Inland Empire or SoCal geocachers, you might wanna try to find this one - I always put tons of goodies! Screen name is: Heroine.

I made fried chicken and wonton soup for dinner and now I'm just laying here like a lard ass because I'm way too full. Oh god, help me.

It's kind of amazing how life works.

For someone, every day is a painful reminder or a painful experience that can change their life forever. For someone, anywhere, today could be the anniversary of the loss of a loved one, or the day that someone breathes their last. For someone, today, their world has stopped turning for a moment and they're lost in a sea of uncertainty, fear, anger, and heartbreak.

I used to feel overwhelmed by this feeling. Every year, I would watch this day pass and I would go about my day as if it were normal. As if, something four years ago didn't send me into a spiral that almost ended my life on several occasions. I watched people laugh and talk and rush around. I watched people studying in the library or buying groceries at the store. Today meant nothing to them, but today meant everything to me.

I used to think about if the people around me remember today. Whether it be my best friend turned ex-lover at the time who called me with a message from the coroner. Whether it be my close friend who carried me to the office as I sobbed after hearing the news. Whether it be my mom who talked her way out of a speeding ticket while trying to pick me up from school. Whether it be the counselor who let me cry in her office until my mom came. Whether it be my friend who I called, begging for comfort. I wonder if today means anything to them. I wonder if they remember the events as vividly as I do. 

There are so many things I wish to say, wish to do, wish to understand about what happened today. There are so many questions I would ask if I were given a chance. 

For so long, I drowned myself in drugs and meaningless sex and abusive relationships to force so many numbing, painful memories in, hoping that memories of you would be pushed out in the process. For two years, I lost my grip on reality and sanity in order to figure out who you were and who I knew and if you ever loved me the way you said you did. Until it became too much. Until I couldn't stop finding out new information. Until I couldn't stop questioning myself and whether I really existed and if this was really happening, but it was. It's been 4 years and I don't remember the way you sounded anymore. I can't remember what things you used to say or recall any of the things we did together while you were here. I barely remember what you look like, even though the photos tell me that. For so long, I wished to forget you and now you're nothing but a number. 0422. The day you died. The day my life changed.

I can't miss someone I never knew, but the person you did show me, the person who proposed to me, I miss them. Wherever you are, I hope you're in a better place. And just know, I still think of you.

I'll always miss you, angel.

Rest in Peace:
Nathan Allen Stewart
2/14/1986 - 4/22/2010 

I used to believe in telling a person I was going to block them or simply send a polite decline to whatever invitation they're sending me, but it's gotten to a point now where I just automatically block people as they message me, mostly because they say stupid fucking things.

"Nice ass for a fat girl". Why would you even bother sending that? I mean, really? At what point did you think "Yeah, this will go over well. I should send this"? 
Then, my next favorite was being told that Doms and submissives could NEVER be just friends and how dare I even think that. This dude was like 30, too, so I don't know. Maybe he needs to grow up.
My final favorite was of the Dom who sent me a message along the lines of "I think we could be a perfect match for each other, read my profile and get back to me!" And, out of courtesy, I did. His profile essentially stated that he wants some whore wife who will have his children, but her status will be equal to (or less than) the status of the children, because she's total shit to him. I politely said "I have no fucking idea where any of that sounds like it fits who I am" and he promptly reminded me that the "only reason [he] messaged me in the first place was because of my ass, because that is all I have to offer a man."

I don't condemn any lifestyle because what you do behind closed doors or what you share with your partner is none of my goddamn business. That's totally fine with me. I could be totally fine with misogynistic pricks or arrogant assholes as long as they don't bother me. But, don't try to push your beliefs onto someone else, and don't do it by trying to ruin their self esteem or diminish their self worth. That's just rude. 

Just, don't be dildos. 

A lot of us forget that behind these photos and fantasies, behind the kinky veil, that we are people. We hurt and love and lose just like anybody else. We carry stories around behind clenched jaws and bite our tongues like it'll be okay and sometimes it is and sometimes it isn't, but it takes a larger person to realize that: we are human. We hurt. We love. We lose. We experience joy and sorrow and anger and jealousy. All of these things, every day, we are more than the photos that we post here. We are more than the journals or the profile. We are more than words on your computer screen. We are entwined with each other in a cosmic clusterfuck of atoms and genes and magic.

It'll be 4 years since my fiance died on Tuesday. I won't say he was perfect; he wasn't. I won't say that I wasn't stupid to get engaged so young, because I was. I won't say that he didn't mean anything even though I've willed that to be true for so long. It doesn't matter how we were together or why - it's that I experienced a death that has plagued me for years. That sent me down the drug-laced path. That sent me into the arms of abusive men. That sent me blinded into the world. I take my responsibilities for the mistakes I've made, people I've hurt, and lives that have been ruined - but maybe things aren't always what they seem.

Everyone has a story.

Everyone means something to someone.

The point of sending someone a message is to typically start a correspondence and for that to happen, you have to make yourself valuable - you have to have something to offer. Like most females on this site, I get quite a few messages a day and most of them simply go into the trash because they're either:
1. Rude/Disgusting
2. Ask questions I've clearly answered in my profile or journals.
3. Demanding.
4. Insulting. 

If you want me to respond to you, then make yourself seem like you have something to offer. Every man who messages me has a dick. Every one of them believes they are the Domliest Dom. What makes you stand out? Think about it.

Aw. I can't believe how much I've grown since I wrote this at 17. It's been 4 amazing years and it's funny that the man who inspired this has come back into my life. It's funny how things just sort of work out sometimes.

Affairs of the Heart  

I was led by circumstance to a bed of pine-needles that, pricked my skin away. You held your breath and caught mine; the weight of our bodies forced the fragile grass to bend, and like us - eventually, it broke.

You promised the air would be less heavy, like the weight of my chest against your hand. You told me to breathe easy; deep - you brought the words to my lips and my soul to your hand. I hyperventilated, and you drank it in.

I squinted my eyes to blur the colors; we were moving light-years in a matter of minutes - away from the city lights. We locked our hands and reminisced, in a love that was once so strong. 

Your lips brushed mine and the trees rustled against a breath that wasn't there. You vowed to pay attention; as my body swayed. I was impulsive - the way that the moon pulls the sea and yearns for the tide to break against the beaches; you touched me and when the owls sang their songs and the wolves joined in; I shivered and you conquered my weak soul. 

You asked me to stay, and took the words that I whispered as a camouflaged lust. Deep in the forest - where the fireflies danced for the sinners - we found ourselves.

You said his name; my heart skipped a beat. I realized what I had done. Like beauty in Majesty, our secrets receded into the clouds. You fell away and I - collapsed under the pressure.

The linoleum roses pricked my skin - away.

It's a gray, rainy day.

I'm wearing purple.

Sometimes you gotta be the color in your own world.

I feel the words rising and I swallow them down, the things that clutter my mind. I wish you knew what it meant when I gritted my teeth, like how cold I felt. I'm so cold and my heart is so cold that perhaps you would believe me if I said it never did beat, and perhaps you'd fumble and fall - and the earth would give out right under your feet.

and perhaps i'd say that maybe one day, i woke up and i allowed you to believe. that the lies i told you were really just that, but you were too naive to believe them.

and perhaps i'd say that maybe one day, you'd stop to listen to the sound of the breeze. and think back to a time when you truly believed that we made up the birds and the bees; and you were too stupid to free them.

i had no reason to to correct your thoughts, they weren't mine to manipulate away.

mere seedlings - i whispered so sweet and soft, i willed them to seek the light of day.

and up grew a tree and unfortunately for me, those roots reached for me, like a child to their mother - 

and i

burned

it

down.

and perhaps i'd say that maybe one day, you'd learn what it meant when i gritted my teeth.

and perhaps i'd say that maybe one day, you'd look harder for the monster that laid beneath.

I went back to a poetry site I used to frequent when I was younger. I found some of my old friends and needless to say, I've spent the last hour crying over poems we've written each other. It's really an experience to see where I was 7 years ago mentally. Here's a poem I wrote in collaboration with two girls named Kate and Britt. 

Here Comes The Rain (Collab)
Baby, angry clouds are rolling in,
And rain falls from the sky,
Angels are singing a sad song,
And God begins to cry.

But don't you let this bring you down,
No, angelface, go outside and see,
Take my hand and run out that door,
Tonight it's just you and me.

Save me from the thunder
Let's dance under the rain
Splashing in the raindrops
Washing away all of the pain.

Wash away this innocence
tonight it's you and me
thunder storms come crashing
the night is left to see.

Hold me around my waist,
Kiss me right now, my darling;
We're going to take a step into the light,
Where you and me, we mean everything.

Although the rain is falling,
And the thunder won't go away,
In your arms forever,
Safety; my soul feels at bay.

So let the rain wash over us,
Together, it's you and me;
Thunder storms and angry clouds,
Just take my hand and you'll see. 

Kegs and lifted trucks. 

TP bonfires and katanas. 

A bunch of old friends, too many cigarettes, and a lot of shared memories.

That's how a good going away party is done!
I hope he has fun at basic training. He's such a sensitive little thing. I hope they don't make him cry. 

I heard the doctor,
But what did he say?
I knew I was fine about this time yesterday.
I don't need answers.
I just need some peace.
I just need someone who could help me get some sleep.
Who could help me get some sleep?

This isn't easy.
This isn't clear.
And you don't need Jesus,
Til you're here.
Then confusion and the doubts you had -
Up and walk away.
They walk away
When a heart breaks.

Since I'm procrastinating a paper,I'm going to answer the top two questions I get asked here on a daily basis.
1.) What do you want to do in genetics?
I want to be in the research portion, hopefully targeting genetic diseases that specifically happen in children such as retinablastoma.
2.) What got you into genetics?
I got into genetics because my grandfather was a nurse and fully believed I should be one too, but it turns out, I faint at blood and needles, so I wouldn't be a great nurse. So, then I decided I wanted to help with crime and I started taking forensic classes, specifically forensic anthropology because I fully believe that everybody should have closure. My anthro professor once said "I got into this profession because I could not imagine my son or husband or mother walking out the door one day and never coming home. I could not imagine going the rest of my life not knowing what happened to them. Everyone deserves closure. Everyone deserves to mourn if the occasion calls for it and until they have proof, they'll always believe and hope that their loved one will come home, and sometimes, that's not the case". It really spoke to me. But, as I said, blood makes me faint. I'm not too good with dead bodies either. I can deal with bones, I'm fine with that. But, the skin and muscles and organs? No thank you. So, I randomly took a genetics class my first year in college and adored it. I felt like this was my calling. I'm predisposed to cervical and ovarian cancer (to the point that my immediate female family members have had them), so.. I may not be able to have children. I think that it really pushed me to want to help people, but in particular, the children born with these diseases. I originally wanted to go into counseling, to tell people about the genes they could pass on to their children, but.. I feel like I could not emotionally handle the idea of someone saying "Yes, I have a 50% chance of passing this disease on. LET ME TAKE THAT RISK". A recent news story making waves is a woman and her husband who are both recessive for sickle cell anemia (African descent). The woman underwent sterilization so that she could not birth a child with sickle cell anemia, however, the doctor made a mistake and she ended up pregnant, giving birth to a child with SCA. Now, she's suing the hospital. It's really sad. What started off as a beneficial mutation to fight off malaria is causing worlds of hurt, but I guess that's the risk you take when you procreate with someone of the same race. Unfortunate, but true.  

My rules for doing a FFM threesome.
1.) It can't be the female's first time. It's uncomfortable and I don't deal with uncomfortable situations well. It's just not a good time for me. Don't use me to train her. Don't expect me to train her.
2.) If the female isn't sure that this is what she wants, DO NOT CONTACT ME. That's drama I don't have to deal with.
3.) I'm fine if she's an alpha-sub, but if you expect me to be some sort of female cuckold and watch y'all fuck, I'm not about that life. I don't need to waste time getting ready or gas getting there to watch porn.
4.) It's really difficult for me to sub to another female, but I'm willing to give it a go. 
5.) I'm not going to clean up a creampie. Not my deal.
5a.) Be honest with me. If the bitch tastes rank, don't shove my face down there. I vomit really easily, so there's a possibility I'll throw up on her. I don't know if you're into that, but I'm not, so.. be nice. 

Religious Use of Drugs

So, I'm having to catch up on reading for my religions class, but we started getting into the religious use of drugs for the purpose of gaining spiritual enlightenment. Every culture uses them. In Western culture, we seem to see drugs and associate them with "addicts" but not everyone who participates in the use of drugs is an addict. In fact, people usually don't consider themselves addicts until they have hit their lowest of low. For some, that's overdosing. For others, it's jail. I was fortunate enough not to hit either of those, but rather, a well-respected friend of mine said to me off-hand one day "You know, _____, I don't think I have seen you sober in..months. It's like you're not even there anymore." and THAT is what started my road to recovery.

But, that is my story. I still remain friends with people who partake. For the last 3 years, I've stayed my distance unless someone overdosed or died, which happens. But, I have always enjoyed being a babysitter. Being a babysitter means I get to experience all the hilarious things people are going through while they're out of their minds, but I'm also bad news bears. You never want bad news bears as your babysitter. 
The wonderful thing about drugs and alcohol is that you have these terrible ideas that you can't go through with because you either forget or you're unable to work a vehicle or sometimes, you just can't figure out how to walk. That's where I come in. I'm the person who says "Oh, your spiritual animal who happens to be a talking gecko says to go to the desert? Alright, hop in. I'll drive" and off we go. A lot of terrible, hilarious things have happened because of me doing this, but, what else am I supposed to do? I'm not seeing or feeling what you're seeing or feeling. I'm just sort of along for the ride. 
I digress. The point is, man, I don't know, if you're trying to find spiritual enlightenment or become a medium (except mediums are supposed to be sober when they're possessed, so you're more like a shaman at this point) to connect with some supernatural entity on their plane, then why are you going to use a drug that has been advertised as a way to "squeegee your third eye"? Doesn't that SOUND painful? It just doesn't seem like the best way to go about that.  

I know of a group of 5 who had one babysitter. They took shrooms and then decided that going swimming in a leech filled lake, NAKED, was the best route for them. The babysitter kept saying "You KNOW that there are leeches in there. Don't do it. It's not going to be good times." and they kept saying "BUT IT'S SO HOT. WHY IS IT SO HOT. WHY IS THAT LAKE SO GOOD." And then they stripped down to nothing and off into the lake they went. And the babysitter was like: ...alright, because that is the rule. Once you are naked, you're pretty much on your own unless you are honest to god, DYING. If your spiritual animal is in the leech filled lake and you have to make that your own obstacle to overcome, YOU GO AND DO THAT, but your babysitter is gonna stand way far away.
So.. if you're gonna use drugs for a religious purpose, consider these things:
1. Do you REALLY wanna do this?
2. Do you have someone you REALLY trust to babysit you or do you have bad news bears?
3. Don't get naked. At any point of your high, don't get naked. Especially when and if monkey takes you. DO NOT DO IT. 

There goes my weekend, I guess.

Big biology test a week from today.

First religions midterm coming up a week from Thursday.

Two weeks from now is my second psychology exam.

And some ugly feminist paper due.

Guess I'm staying in this weekend and studying. It's a real drag. I was really hoping I could play this weekend.

I get asked the same questions a lot, so I'm going to answer the most asked questions right here in this journal. Please read it before contacting me.

1.) How long have you been in the lifestyle?

I can honestly say I've been involved since I was 16. I have always been into older men, probably due to the lack of a father or real mother in my life, and when I was younger, I found multiple men who played on that. I don't regret any of the people I've dated, even if they were unhealthy relationships.

2.) Have you always been into older men?
Yes. I've never dated anyone who was less than 3 years older than me. 

3.) When did you become sexually active? Are you clean?
I have been tested for STDs recently and I'm clean. I first had sex at 12. 
4.) Have you had any luck with this site?
I've had a ton of luck with this site, actually. I've met some wonderful people and not so wonderful people. But, most recently, my longest relationship started on this site and it was wonderful for the most part. I've been incredibly lucky with who I've met on here.

5.) What do you like to do for fun?
Nothing. That's the truth. I like to lay around and watch tv or chat online or journal while I have my down time. I can do this alone or with someone, but I spend a lot of time on the go due to school and I just like being able to relax when I'm not obligated. 

6.) What are you looking for?
I don't know. That's the truth. I want a play partner, but that requires trust and trust requires my time, emotions, and effort, which I'm really not in a place that I can give. A relationship is out of the question.

7.) Why aren't you interested in me?
You're probably out of my age range (26-30 years old is my ideal). You probably want me to do things I don't want to do or am uncomfortable with. If we aren't sexually compatible, that's completely okay. We don't need to be, but we also don't need to sleep together, which is why I decline. I don't put myself in uncomfortable situations anymore. I'm too old for that.

8.) What's the best way to approach you?
Get to know me. Read my journals and my profile. Ask me questions that pertain me me as a person, not as a submissive. I have a lot more to me than what I can offer you in bed and if you expect me to have any sort of relationship with you, you'll have to indulge both of those personalities - not just one.

9.) What sort of fetishes do you have?
They're on my profile. I took the time to fill it out and I update it as I see fit. The things you see on there are up to date. They were updated 2 weeks ago. There are things that I will not do with play partners and there are things that I will not do in a relationship. It just depends on how I feel about the person.
10.) What won't you do with a play partner?
I won't do anal, extensive bondage (especially anything that touches my face), creampie, or swallow.
11.) What is something you'd like to do?
I've been missing threesomes lately. 

12.) Are you owned and are you looking?
No. To both of those. No. 

13.) What happened with your ex?
None of your business. Please stop asking.  

The difference between going to sleep and passing out is shoes. 

If you have the forethought to take off your shoes, you've gone to sleep.

If you have your shoes on when you fall asleep, you have passed out and I get to draw penises on your face. 

Those are the rules.

Trapped in your arms.

[8:30 pm. => Another night]

Spring cleaning took two days, two days of throwing out a past life and a past love. All of the photos of us together and all of the things that he bought, all sit in a dumpster next to the curb - awaiting their final destination. This wasn't it. My room and my mind and my heart, those were not the final destination for these memories.

You suggested I come over to talk. I didn't want to talk. I wanted to feel you against me. I wanted to drive the memories of a past love so far out of my head that they never came back, and you were the man to do it for me. 

I had forgotten what it felt like to be with you. The way that you conducted yourself and the way I responded to it. You sat me in your lap and traced your fingertips along my back, laying feathered kisses against the raised ink of my tattoo. I relaxed into your arms and fell into your chest, remembering the way you smelt, the way you looked the last time I saw you. 

And then you did it.

You wrapped your legs around my shins and opened your legs until my legs were forced open. You took my arms behind my back with one hand and pulled my hair roughly to the side with the other. You bit softly into my exposed neck and I remembered.

I remembered that you were the only man I could never challenge in wrestling. The only one who could pin me no matter what I did with a vice grip until I whined and pouted. You didn't even wince when I sunk my teeth into your arm, letting the pain drive you into a deeper state of arousal. 

How many years has it been? 3? 4? 

This time I didn't fight you. I worked against my instincts and caved into you. I relaxed into your tensed arms, using my restrained legs to gain leverage and push my hips down into your crotch.

You growled and I knew I won that round.

You showed me the beauty in breakdown.

The beauty in moving on.

It no longer seems like a daunting task rather, an adventure. 

I don't feel obligated to do anything today. No chores, no homework, no family or friend obligations. It's a freedom that I rarely experience. 

I'm spending it playing loud music and dancing around my kitchen while making sugar cookies from some recipe I found online. 

I just feel happy today. 
It's nice outside.
Perhaps I'll take a walk.

“D’you know what happens when you hurt people?’ Ammu said. ‘When you hurt people, they begin to love you less. That’s what careless words do. They make people love you a little less.” 

- The God of Small Things.

This was taken from my journal on , but I'd like to share it here. This was my experience last night. 

Tonight Was For Me.

I showed up at his apartment at 8:30pm and he led the way into his room. I sat on the floor while he told me about the things that I've missed in the years that we haven't seen each other. I kept my breathing consistent and reminded myself that I was okay. He sat in a large armchair and moved his hand to my cheek, gently moving me towards him. I couldn't believe he remembered my kitty persona after so many years.
He worked his fingers through my hair with my cheek against his leg and I told him of the struggles I've faced with my ex over the past week. He let me talk and breathe and vent and stretch and never once pushed me faster than I would go. He was happy I was there, and I was happy to be there. I forgot how he smelled, how he tasted, how he felt, and tonight - I got to experience that all over again.

I sat on his lap and he wrapped his arms around my stomach, caressing my breasts while kissing my neck. He whispered how long it had been since he's touched me. I was more than happy to be his rag doll. He pushed my back down, into my legs, and traced the lace of my thong, and I shivered against him - begging for more.

He stood me up and spun me around to face him. He knew I didn't like to kiss, but he kissed me anyways. He nibbled my lips and stroked my hips, but that's not what I had been looking for. I wanted him. I wanted so much more than intimacy.

I hated being teased. The way he grabbed my hair and rubbed his erection hidden behind cotton against my cheek. The way I panted desperately for my prize. The way he looked when he finally let me have it.
His cock felt so different than I had remembered it. I wanted to savor every moment I had with it against my tongue. I cursed myself for not having had enough water beforehand. I wanted desperately to take him fully in the first stroke - I wanted to give him a reason to remember me - even though I know I'll never be forgotten in his mind.

Three strokes in and he was in my throat. I could hear his moans as he grabbed my hair and willed for more, mumbling "I definitely don't remember you doing that before".

He stripped me down and bent me over, shoving cock into my sopping pussy in one stroke. I came immediately. I couldn't remember the last time I had been fucked. Fucked without needing to stop for a break, without the cock inside me getting soft due to exhaustion. I came and came and came while he groped at my breasts and ass and hips. He commented on the way I sounded. The way my moans bounced off the walls.

I decided right then that I would do the thing I hadn't done for anybody in almost 8 years - I decided right then I wanted to swallow his load.
He laid back and I lovingly licked my cum off of his cock before devouring it whole.

I could hear him above me, moaning my name, pushing my hair from my face so that he could watch as I sucked him. I remember him whispering "Please don't stop. Let me cum."
And I did. I pulled him deep into my throat and played my tongue against his shaft and listened to the way he sounded.
He bucked his hips once and called out my name, and I swallowed his load.

He sat in his chair and I sat on the floor.
We spoke of love and loss and drugs and the future.
We laughed and hugged and kissed and lived in that moment.
And what I loved most was that I didn't have to act like I loved him or act like I wanted more than I did. I wanted his cock and I got it. I didn't have to cuddle with him or reassure him of his sexual appeal. We went back to being friends and I realized how lucky I was that I had chosen him to be the first after my last. That he really showed me what I want and need in my life right now as opposed to what my family believes.

And in that moment, I felt this untapped freedom. I felt happier than I had been in so long. I had done it. I had finally moved past my ex and I no longer felt tethered to this fear of the unknown.
I realized that this is what I want right now. I want a friend and a lover, but not a boyfriend.

It's time to move forward and I have never been so excited.

I have to make a religion for my final.

I'm going to make the church of dat ass and I'm going to make shirts that say "On Wednesdays, we do squats". This is going to catch on.

My awkwardness never fails to amaze me.

So, today, in my religions class, we were put into groups so that we could eventually present on our assigned reading. Of course, I hadn't done it, but I also got put into the only group that seemed to be full of people who also did not read, which was terrible. So, my professor says "CHOOSE YOUR VICTIM! THE ONE THAT WILL SPEAK FOR YOUR GROUP!" and everyone is just like "uh, er, um." and we're up first, of course, so I end up just standing up and I'm facing away from the class, which is.. I don't know, I know it's rude, but I didn't feel confident in what I was saying. So, my professor says to speak to the class because she's already read the article.

And so I slowly turn around, set my laptop on the desk behind me and my verbal diarrhea kicks in and I say:
"I'm so sweaty. I'm sorry I'm so sweaty. Please ignore my terribly sweatiness". 

And then go on to talk about Turner's expression of "religious spiritualists". 

Typical experience for me, apparently. Nobody is going to want to be friends with the sweaty girl.

I'm such a fuckin' weirdo sometimes and unfortunately, I catch myself in the middle of being weird. I was sitting on the floor of the Disabled Students Building, because that's where my first class today is, and this person walked past me and they smelled weird. It was a male, but they smelled heavily of a fruity spray and so I put my laptop on my bag and inch towards this person on my hands and knees. Like a dog, essentially. Without really noticing it until my headphones that were connected to my laptop jerked me back onto my ass. And then I was like "oh dear god, what am I doing?" Thank god I don't actually get embarrassed. I did apologize to the male in question about trying to sniff him. 

Tonight, the idea of the person I was with was completely shattered by admittance to lies and deception that ran deep. Even in my memories, he'll never be my Daddy and that's admittedly a bitter pill to swallow.

But, what happened afterwards, was I got up and I started walking. I walked around my block and ended up catching two dogs that had gotten loose. I waited with them until they were able to get picked up by their owners. And it was funny, because they were so sweet and so desperate for love! One of them was named Marley and he was this beautiful pitbull/lab mix that was full grown, but he NEEDED to be in my lap at all times. So, I sat on the sidewalk and he just sat in my lap as happy as could be, completely ignoring that he towered over me even when he was sitting. His companion was sweet too, but a little less trained. He looked like a nice Aussie cattledog mix with blue eyes and spotted fur. He looked underfed and tried to bite me when I took Marley's collar looking for a phone number to call. Thankfully, I've never been afraid of dogs or being bit, so I let him place his jaw around my wrist. I knew that at that moment, he could choose to bite through my bone, but he applied no pressure. I think he might have been playing at that point because he showed no signs of being scared or territorial. His tail was wagging and he was just happy as could be. 

The owner came and thanked me. Apparently it was her elderly father's dogs. I probably sounded like an idiot on the phone because I was trying to contain two dogs without a leash and tell them directions. Once I got Marley to sit down, I just let the other one run around until the owner came. They wouldn't have made it to nightfall around here, unfortunately. They were too happy to just wander into the street and were not afraid at all of cars, which isn't good in a place that's not well lit at night and known for coyotes. 

I'm glad they're home. That they're safe.

It proved that even though I'm hurting, things are going to be okay, and a small act on my part could've meant the world to somebody else. I'm happy.

One of my favorite things about Buddhism is the idea that souls are neither destroyed nor created, so essentially, everyone and everything is a soul that has lived forever. The thing that always makes me laugh is that being human is a sacred and rare thing. You usually don't get to be human that many times, which is why they sort of live by this "Life's a bitch and then you die and then you're recreated and then life's a bitch again". Like, imagine, life was a bitch as a pillbug, life was a bitch as a snail, life was a bitch as a seagull, life was a bitch as a tree, life was a bitch as a cow, life was a bitch as a bee, then you finally get to be a human and you're like "Alright, can't fuck this up". Imagine thinking "Murder is absolutely the most evil thing possible because you don't know how many times that person has been a snail, how many times they've been a tree, how many times they've been a worm, and HOW DARE YOU FOR MAKING IT IMPOSSIBLE FOR THEM TO REACH ENLIGHTENMENT". 

I love Buddhism. I've always wanted to be a snail.

Noteworthy things that happened in my life yesterday:
1. While driving home, a road-raged douche nozzle got so angry that my gal pal had to turn into HER road, he began to follow her until she stopped, got out of her sparkly purple car wielding a machete, and began screaming like a maniac. She was fierce in a way that only an 80 lbs adult female could be. This is why I call her T-pain.
2. My tattoo virgin friend went to get his first tattoo and ended up dealing with a very unprofessional artist who charged $200/hr and ended up cutting the session short because he was going to go "fuck some ratchet pussy" and is now holding my friend's $200 deposit for the next session hostage while my friend walks around with like 1/4 of his tattoo done. 
3. I totally had gay porn on my 16" laptop screen when I opened it in class, and I was sitting in the very first row. Now everyone in my psych class knows I like watching random gay porn.

For my psychology midterm, I've been working on a project that includes a hypothetical study, which I chose to do on the morality of the "Death with Dignity" Law and if it should become federal instead of state based. I decided to post in forums both here and on FL and I went into some chatrooms, and although the ages and locations of people who responded varied a lot, I received nothing but positive feedback. Not one person believed that this law should not go federal, which surprised me greatly, but then I remembered the audience I was asking, which are various fetish forums. I think we're all a bit liberal, regardless of age. It was definitely fun though. Everyone who responded was wonderful and extremely helpful. I'm definitely blessed.

I'm being all nostalgic today for some reason. I guess that it's because when things get hard, I always think back to that one time that I felt on top of the world.

It was senior year, I was in the weight room with some friends and it was max out day. I was looking to beat my record from the previous max out and get my "red" shirt. 

I was one of the first ones to get my squats done because my last name starts with a B, and for some reason, there were way too many damn people around me, but we put four plates on (225 lbs total) and I remember distinctly dropping down and remembering just how heavy gravity was weighing down on me. I remember thinking "Oh dear god, my back is actually going to snap in half and it's possible that I'm just going to die". But, what happened next surprised me. Coach got my spotter to move and he stood behind me. He got as low as I did and started screaming "PUSH IT, _____. Don't give up. PUSH THROUGH." and I did. I was able to max out at 225 lbs and everybody around me gave me hugs and congratulated me. 

And that's the feeling that I strive for every time that I do something I'm unsure of. A couple days ago, I did a triple in second and even though I had fallen a million times over when I had attempted it for the past two years, I was finally able to just let go and really experience the beauty of success. 

I think I'm lucky. I'm lucky that whenever I feel like I can't do something, or something is too hard, I just remember those voices. I remember to push myself to my limits and even beyond them. And it makes me happy. 

Today, I printed out 100 of these. I gave about 20 of them to different friends of mine. They're only allowed to use ONE per time that we hang out. I realize that I'm a bit socially awkward. At least I'm helping them out! Tehe.

Well, I got a beautiful (and expensive) sapphire ring and necklace as a present today. What a lovely surprise. 

While sitting with a friend earlier, I realized that I've always wanted to find a man who had the same passion that I did. That could ignite this passion inside of me that could never be sated no matter how much I wrote or played piano or danced, and unfortunately, even through my most fulfilling relationships, I have yet to find that. I haven't found anybody who has sparked my flame and kept it ablaze. 

I want to dance for you.

I want to write for you.

I want to play for you.

But you have to ignite that passion first.
I promise I'm worth it.

In my mind, I can hear those voices. They say "You stupid, stupid girl. You'll never go far." How do you run from the voices? How do you conquer yourself? How do you run from what's in your head? 

I won't hurt for the past, but I fear for the future.

One of my favorite quotes from the Bible is "Blessed are those who mourn for they will be comforted" and it's ironic to me that the way that we go about comforting someone is to tell them that God has a plan for them. My friend lost his son recently and I remember being at the funeral hearing people say "He's with God now" and this irritated him. At first, I didn't realize what we were doing. As a culture and as a religion, we are meant to believe that God is Almighty and righteous and we are profane and therefore the son (Mike) being with God was a good thing. But, what I saw in that moment was something I'd never forget. 

In those moments, we, as a religion, had started a war between man and God. God had taken Mike away and therefore God was challenging my friend by taking his son. And we, as practitioners of a certain religion, did not understand that we had created this new struggle for him. 

Now, isn't that a bitch.

Would it maybe be possible to get some suitors under the age of 30? >_> Please?

Waking up in someone else's arms is probably one of the most rewarding and intimate things I've ever experienced. Sleeping next to someone shows a vulnerability that surpasses even the most extreme submission. It's beautiful.

Find a happy medium.

I was with the same person for a little over two years and for most, that doesn't seem like much, but for me, it was an eternity. I had barely turned 18 and had bright eyes that shone like the Sun, and he was the one that captivated me fully. But, a week ago, that came to an end and we parted ways, on a mutual understanding and respect, but that didn't make it any easier.

I've noticed through my years that when it comes to relationships, a lot of people have problems with finding their happy medium - a middle ground between the realities and the infatuation, which seems to be dangerous.

I, myself, have fallen victim to this. In the last few months of my relationship, I was bitter and angry because of how badly I was being treated and how no matter what I did - no matter how hard I prayed, begged, cried, screamed, or ignored things, they never got better. He continued to treat me terribly up until the end. And when it did end, I was relieved because I had been suffering for so long, but through this past week, I've noticed the constant yo-yo effect of "God, I miss this about him" and "Oh, thank god, I don't have to deal with that anymore".

We parted because we were in different places in our lives and I think that many people can sympathize with that sort of situation. I was a baby bird finding its wings and he was ready to build a nest and have little baby birds of his own. I couldn't hold him back from that, even if I wanted to.
But, I've fallen victim to seeing it as a bitter pill and romanticizing what we had. Especially with the storm that's hit Southern California, the rain has made me feel vulnerable and for two years, he was what made me feel safe and warm.

So, what I challenge everyone to do is to think about their last break up and hold on to the first thought - what was it? Was it good? Was it bad? Was it neutral? Did you love them? Did they love you?
Try not to get stuck in the blackhole that bitterness can be and just remember that no matter how it ended, no matter what you or they did - at one point in your life, they were exactly what you wanted and needed. They made you who you are today and well, you're pretty fuckin' cool.

So, chin up - cherish the good times, forgive the bad ones, and allow those experiences to influence how you love and treat the next one.

You people do realize I can see how many times you've looked at my profile, yes? Either message me or stop perving, lol. 

If there's something I've learned in college, it's that I'm so incredibly lucky to have the group of friends that I have.

For example, I'm taking a class this semester called Witchcraft, Magic, and Religion (Anthropology of Religions) and our first assignment is to observe another religion's ritual or practice, which is sort of awkward for a lot of people, I'm sure. But, here I am, a practicing Catholic, with friends of all religious backgrounds excited to show me their world for a day. I've chosen to take up my friend Malek's offer and and observe a Muslim service and lecture. I feel blessed that I'm able to have these positive experiences and can only hope that the people coming into my life are as tolerant and excited to learn as I am.

A manly man blocked me because I hurt his ego by not responding to his thought that I'm "kissable and sound super fun".

Oh boy.

A girl in my class trying to flirt:
"Oh, man, I love your mustache. It's so sick. Can I touch it?"

Is that how I'm supposed to get a dude now? I've been out of the game too long.

Well, it looks like I'm back for round 2 after two years of being out of the lifestyle!

Read my profile before you contact me.
Don't be a douche.

Have something interesting to say.

Rant of the Day;

Gym Protocol and Other Shenanigans.

Because I got so many responses to my journals (all encouraging and some asking for more), I decided to write another. Here are a few things that irked me today.

To begin, I've had many people message me (obviously) in the past two days now, and some of You wonderful Doms want to meet up, but You live in LA or OC. See, here's my problem with some of You. I'm a typical 18 year old, living at home, looking for a job, but unlike most 18 year olds, I get absolutely NO financial assistance from my guardians. The money I have is from my 18th birthday (last month) and it's running out quickly. So, here's my problem - these Doms who want me to drive to Them. See, I'm more than willing to if You're close (say, Inland Empire, NO - this does NOT include the High Desert or the SB Mountains!), but if  the drive is going to be more than an hour, then it's absolutely unreasonable for You to expect me to go with no compensation for gas. I have a decent car with decent gas mileage. My '04 Camry gets about 25 per gallon, it's a pretty good car! Even so. I have been more than willing to oblige and I will meet You half way. Isn't that reasonable? I'm sorry that the economy is bad and the gas prices are going up, but at this moment, I can't drive all over the place to meet people. I'm sorry.

Secondly, Doms who expect me to give them my number after sending me a couple of emails. I get it, You think I'm a fake/man/flake, whatever, but the internet is about trust. I can guarantee I'm a real female.  I'll even send pictures and even confirmation/proof pictures if You ask, but no, I do not feel comfortable giving out my number right off the bat.

-----------------

So, on to the REAL point of this: the gym.

1.) If you're going to just chill on the machine that I want to use, texting, not doing anything, I won't say anything. I don't like confrontation, and you have paid your membership, but I hope you know that I'm killing you in the worst possible ways, thousands of times in my mind.

2.) If I have my headphones in and I'm powering through, it means I don't want to talk. I'm concentrated, or ignoring you. Either way, leave me alone.

3.) STOP STARING AT ME. I promise that I'm not going to fucking morph into a zebra playing oldies on the xylophone.

4.) Tell me why a buff guy can go up to another buff guy and say "Hey man, I like your form" and it's cool, they work out, high five, whatever, but if a fat guy goes up to a buff guy and says "Hey man, I like your form", he gets a disgusted look and called gay.

5.) If you're sick, like, contagious, STAY HOME. People like me, with very weak immune systems, WILL catch whatever you have and it'll probably affect us tenfold. Jerks.

6.) Just because I'm a chub doesn't mean I'm out of shape. I work out 6 days a week for 2 hours and 45 mins with a strict workout. I like to eat. I'd rather be muscular than a stick. Don't underestimate me.

7.) To all you overweight people who are there, I have mad respect for you. Seriously. Don't mind the looks and childish remarks from the meatheads or sticks. You're beautiful.

Ciao.

First Rant of the Day!

So, I've had my account for a little under a day now and I've received a lot of messages that simply didn't sit well with me. I will try to explain a few guidelines (and answer a few questions) to things that I was bombarded by today:

1.) Yes, I really did turn 18 last month and I can verify upon request. I don't troll the internet searching for guys I can turn in to Dateline. I'm an honest person; just ask. Also, NO, I'm not a fake; if I was a fake, I'd have picked a picture of a girl who isn't chubby.

2.) I am looking for a monogamous relationship; this means, I don't want a couple or a poly-house, or cult. No offense to those in couples, poly-houses, and/or cults. To each his own.

3.) After sending me half of a dozen, monosyllabic, emails, do not be offended by the fact that I will not jump at the chance of moving in with you and joining your dreams of kids and a white picket fence with a chain around my ankle, a baby in my belly, and no shoes on my feet. Take things slow. I promise that things are worth waiting for.

4.) No, I will not send you nude photos. I have some pride in my body and I feel that it is special (as I believe anyone's nude body is special) and do you REALLY want the girl that YOU own exposed for just anyone to drool over? Perhaps, it is nice to make other people jealous - to see what they cannot have (see, but not touch?) - but, if everybody has seen it, then why would it be special?

5.) I have a special place in my heart for Daddy Doms and I absolutely love them, however, if you're in your 60-somethings, you're no longer a Daddy Dom for me. You're a Grand-daddy Dom as my own grandmother is only 64. Please be reasonable if I'm not interested in you.

6.) Have something interesting to say, please. I want to talk, I absolutely love to talk, but if you have nothing to say, I can't have a conversation with a wall. Don't send me one of those automatic messages. They'll be deleted.

7.) Treat me like a person. Don't tell me that I'm your bitch, whore, cunt, cum-dumpster, whatever. I may be a submissive, but I am still a living, breathing person.

8.) I have hard limits, some listed on my profile that include (but are NOT limited to): Fisting, fire play, needle play, electro (this includes cow-prods and tazers, to that creeper who wanted to use them on me!), scat/puke, k-9 (I was surprised at how many people asked me if I would), forced lactation, being a whore for your profit, and breeding.

9.) As I've stated in my profile, I am more than willing to relocate for the right Dom/me.

10.) Most importantly, Dom/mes, please, do not try to bribe me with money or any sort of luxury in order to be your's. I don't care about your money or your job, while, yes, I DO want someone who has a good head on their shoulders, I have my own money and car; I don't need your's to survive and it surely won't win my heart.

So, to all of my Dom/mes, switches, and sub/slaves that have taken the time to read this, thank you, and remember these 10 things before messaging me.

Ciao.