If You Care To Find Me, Look To The Western Sky...

As I have been on a life changing journey, learning who I am, I had to look at what formed me the way that I am. I though that I had the perfect childhood, I thought the silent abuse I went through was normal. I thought it was normal for us to check the pilot light on the stove 10 times before leaving the house, I thought it was normal to be nice to everyone, and give to everyone. I thought it was normal for my mother to check how clean I was between my legs. I thought my life was normal.  I thought I had no voice, even though I felt a bubble in my throat wanting to erupt from my mouth and tell everything I felt. 

I thought I was normal I thought everyone lived this way. I never thought I was really abused,  I thought I was OK, but I wasn't. I was on a downward spiral, I was seeking attention in all the wrong ways, I bit the hand that I loved so much so many times, I pounded on his chest so many times. I wanted to die many times, so many times.  But he saw me and he pushed me and he pushed me hard and still pushes me, I carry on that power

I had to see myself before I could see the world. And let me tell you that was Hell, I didn't want to be broken, I wanted to be the healer, the one who could fix things. But I had to repair myself. I had to see my horror, my bad, my evil. But I also saw my beauty, and my heart and I found my voice. I was told that I must go to therapy, I was like I don't need therapy- I was wrong.  I held back at first, but then It all started to come out and I spilled all the beans. I shared everything about myself and I learned.

I was shown books to read, and I gave major push back on reading them and I was not wanting to see I was "bad" that I was damaged, that i was doing evil things, that I was hurting others, that I was letting others hurt me, and use me.  I was those things, I didn't want to be those things. I fought hard, I pounded on his armor over and over. I pushed myself and read the books that were given to me, I read other book on those topics, I used YouTube beyond music, watching videos of psychology, behaviors. I stopped blaming others, and and took hold that I was wrong that I acted poorly and that I hurt someone so dear to me. 

I also forgave they ones who used me and abused me, those who were to protect me. They did not know better as they were not taught differently 

I had to find myself, I'm not done, its never ending. But I no longer please people, I set boundaries, I have have a voice, and I use it. I don't engage in useless gossip at work, no longer thinking that I need to be apart of the little groups of the town. 

I will never stop learning and being open and transparent with myself and with others that I allow in. I will fight for me, and I will fight and defend those I hold close. I will carry a shovel and not ask any questions if and when I am called.  

I am happy caring for myself, caring for those I that I choose to care for. I do not care for everyone, I do not need a gaggle of friends. I love my silence, I love ME. 

I am beyond thrilled that I am broken and that I am beautiful, that I have gathered my broken pieces and repaired myself. I love every flaw and crack, and the little open spaces that couldn't be filled. 

Below are some songs I feel inside of me, and a long podcast from Dr. Gabor Mate, listening to him has opened my eyes even more.

Just a simple night off, sitting with a bowl of spaghetti Os, coffee, and watching Alien vs Predator. A perfect cool foggy night, curled up on the couch, candles lit, and a clean house  

I thought that I was to be his lighthouse in his raging storms. To take the hits of massive unrelenting waves, to never waiver or weather, but I know now that he was the lighthouse in my storm, he kept me afloat with the distant light he showed me, the beacon steady and strong, guiding me home to safety, taking hit after hit. He brought me home. 

I have a tub of toys that were bought, but hardly touched, some were still in the package. I took a deep breath one day several months ago, got down on my knees and retrieved the tub from under the bed- because isn't that where we all store these toys? 

I sat on the bed and opened the lid. It is not a huge collection, it was to have grown but was never watered. I love toys, well I love seeing them in ads, I love talking about them and talking about implementing them into the dynamic. But I will admit I got scared, I worried what if I didn't like it after talking about how I wanted to get one. I would talk about floggers and wax, anal toys and clamps, plugs, strap-on, and Monster creature cocks - oh my! and, remotes and ropes. Oh how I would get so excited talking about them and wanting them. So some were bought, and they were forgotten. 

I had been encouraged many times to get them out and play with them, see what I liked. I felt alone, when I would touch the squishy cock, and cold steel Ben Wa balls. I felt empty sitting in bed all alone, trying to “play” with myself to get some type of arousal. It was so exciting to talk about them and share the ideas to use them, but when placed in front of me they became real, and I lost that feeling of excitement, I thought they were to have been a shared activity, but that falls on me for not speaking that.  

So here I sat, I ripped open the packages, lined them all up, found parts that were missing, charge ports and cords and if they could not be found or work with another charger, it was tossed. I washed the new cocks, I washed it all. Everything placed with its parts, batteries found and all were charged. 

I played, and I played hard. I tried out each and every toy, I would walk around the house with a plug in, going about my day, feeling it, and letting myself decide if it was something I wanted and liked. I wore a strap on. I “jerked” off to porn, I wore that cock under dresses feeling the most beautiful and feminine I’ve ever felt. . I took a  large squishy pale white cock and tried to deep throat it, GAG! And not because of the size, but of the taste, and how  it made my mouth feel funny and it tasted horrid, a god awful aftertaste, that one was not going in my mouth again. 

I  fucked my ass and pussy, well not in that order. The cock rammed into my cunt, until I was dripping, then I pushed it into my ass, until I came!  I called myself names, I spewed a tapestry of woven words as I fucked myself over and over.  

I put clamps on my nipples and spanked my pussy with a paddle. I'd wear a tail in my ass and put a collar on and crawl around on all fours, and hump the coffee table.  I came over and over.  I would walk naked with cum running down my legs, wiping it with my finger and punching into my ass, then lick my fingers clean as I enjoyed a cup of coffee.

A cock was taken into the shower and i fucked under the stream of HOT water, barely able to keep my balance, thinking if I die in the tub with a dildo in my ass, I would die a second death of embarrassment. 

So now toys and playing are a part of my life, cleaning house with a strap on. A cock in my ass and pussy, and cumming hard, whenever I wanted. Laying in bed with a clit sucker, forcing myself to “take it” and not let up as my clit was over stimulated, forcing an orgasm. 

I swear I put myself into some type of heat, a feral wild animal, pussy swollen and dripping, ass puckering and wanting to be filled. My pussy quivering all the time, squeezing my thighs together to heighten the ache, wanting all my hole filled at the same time and fucked into some drunken stupor. I cum and I smell sex all over the house, the lingering scent of my pussy. It is so intoxicating, so sensual, so powerful. 

Even as I write this I feel the ache and swell, the wanting to be held down and fucked harder and harder. To plow my pussy over and over, wanting to taste myself, licking myself clean and walking with that scent all over my skin.

Where do you want to travel to? 
I have so many places on my list, 

Canada-all over, Scotland, Ireland, Germany, New Zealand, Australia- all over, England, Greece, Poland, Japan, Hong Kong china, 

as for the states Alaska, more of Washington state, Oregon, Montana, Wyoming, New Mexico, the Dakotas. Wisconsin, 

Would love to do Hawaii, but only with a local guide no big businesses, no chains, 

not sure about the east coast. 

will I see all these places? Most likely not. But perhaps the state ones, Canada and maybe one overseas trip. 

I’ve lived in a one horse dirt town all my life, I want to see what’s out there. 

I WILL CONSUME YOU…

I will consume you…

Watching the dark empty void 

I will consume you..

hold on until the darkness clears

I will consume you… 

times of changes spring and fall

I will consume you… 

 full of color, to flushed to ashy white

I will consume you… 

 to understand better, 

I will consume you…

Listening to remember …understand,

I will consume you..

 only learned not to know

I will consume you..

Not back fast enough, not clear enough. 

I will consume you..

would rather be slapped than be left deaf 

I will consume you…

becoming too much, but to hold strong , not give up 

I will consume you…

good  to  nothing 

I will consume you…

How hard is it to 

I will consume you…

didn’t happen how  I thought it would 

I will consume you…

The silence

I will consume you…

And it did

From flared nostrils erupted my burnt ashes.  

HER…

HER, perfectly made, without fault, hand molded and shaped, every part of HER. Whose mouth is sweet as dew yet bites like a fang.
Oh how i wish that i was HER, to never falter. To know exactly how to kneel, when to kneel. To be perfect as HER.
Oh to be HER, knowing exactly how to devour his cock eagerly and greedily taking it with such poise. How to beg for more.
Oh to be HER, desiring to be used
Oh to be HER the image being larger than reality.
Oh to be HER, being chased by me, to be HER.
Oh to be HER, as she would look at me and kiss his mouth, with slyness in HER eyes.
Oh to be HER, as she would point at me and laugh, while he fucks HER.
Oh to be HER, as she slaps me over and over, saying “you will never compete with me, for I am perfection!”
Oh to be her, as I wrap my hands around her neck.
Oh to be her, as I spit on her face.
Oh to be her, as I beat her down, pummeling with clenched fists and solid kicks.
Oh to be her, as I watch her eyes grow wide as she learns.
Oh to be her, as I whisper against her ear, telling of her truth “you are not real”
Oh to be her, as I watch her scratch and claw screaming “but i am perfection, i am all the desires,and wants, i was made to be perfect!”
Oh to be her, as I push her fighting to the edge, we tumble into the black waters.
Oh to be her, as I drag her down, down deeper into the depths where no one wants to go.
Oh to be her, as I kick down further to icy depths, for here is where I swim.
Oh to be her, struggling, not knowing how to swim, trying to cling tight.
Oh to be her, looking up to ME, reaching out as she slips deeper and deeper.
Oh to be ME, as I swim up and break the surface, air fills my lungs with life.
Oh to be ME…

I can listen to this song on repeat, there is just something about his voice and the story being told  

Having flowers on the table, just brightens my whole day.