Accessional diary of a dyslexic dom.

I am thinking of building an ark.

I'm a person!

I have all ways been a person!

I was born a person.

If I was not a person surely someone would have told me by know, or not told me but told someone, like if someone introduced me to someone ells they would say, thats not a person. Thats an item of household furniture.

That has never happened,

although people do sometimes give me funny looks!

But, so, I must be a person.

If you are a person, sooner or later, most people meet another person and they become a couple.

Or ells they meet lots of other people.

I am not sure if I am a particularly nice person, but does that matter? Even Hitler had Eva Braun. She was not bad looking actually. I would have done her (but she would probably have sent me a two word message and then ghosted me after that).

I am quite comfetable. I eat well and I am not cold.

I think I might give up and be a BDSM celibate!

Night before last (from your point of view. To me it is still night because I have not slept yet) I could not sleep. Finally fell asleep at about five in the AM. Slept until mid day, which should have been enough, but I could not wake up. I dozed in a chair for about two hours, then felt lousy all day. But then I thought I must sleep this night because I was so tired all day, but no luck. Its 8. 00 AM and I have not really slept.

I have hardly been outside. At times like this I feel strangely disconnected from reality.

I think I have noticed, recently, a big increase in cynicism on sites like this one. (on a different site) someone asked is she a fake because she would not talk on the phone (even though she offered to meet him in a public place). A large number of responses used the word "catfish". Now to me a catfish is someone who either asked for money or asked to meat you in a private place. Until they try one of these approaches there is no need to worry too much. 

One response commented that there were more fakes, than real people, in online dating. This might actually be true and I have considered, many times, giving up online dating. The thing is I try not to do anything from a cynical point of view. This, to me, seems a bit like putting your foot down on the brakes and the accelerator at the same time. Obviously be safe, but give the person a fair chance.

If someone says to me "humm, I would love to come to England, and visit you, but, ow dear, how will I afford the plain fair"? At that point I would generally break off contact with them. However, even though I know where the discussion is probably leading I will continue with it up until that point. If that makes me a mug then so be it. I would rather that than a cynic.

By the way. Insomnia continues to over shadow my life. I friend commented "don't become dulaly will you" not sure but I think she might be too late.

By the way x 2: Cat Fish for Supper is an old rockerbilly song (I think it is rockerbilly). I can not seem to find the lyrics right now, but will when I have more time. They are not exactly complicated.

I am not sure but I think I am not a proper insomniac. I can often sleep when I do not want to, but I can not sleep when I do want to. Last night I set the alarm on my (new) phone wrong and, consequently, I slept from about eight in the morning until six in the evening. I often loose a hole day to sleep, and then, of cause, I can not sleep at all the next night. Also I get very disorientated.

Junk food is the answer to most problems, and its permanent.

Sorry for the self pitty, it is just one of those days.

I suppose that the search for anything, never mind a submissive, masochist female, will all ways be both depressing and frustrating, if it constantly fails. I keep collecting reasons as to why I never get anywhere and they might all be accurate but in another way it all remains a mystery to me (Perhaps other people can see clearly what is causing my perpetual failure, but I can not see it).

In Buddhism the argument goes something like this: People suffer because they have desires, so if you desire nothing then you can not suffer. At the other extreme there is the idea: Stick at it for long enough, you are bound to find what you are looking for. In other words should I just give up.

By the way this is not a rant at anyone in particular. I am not the kind of man who gets angry with ladies because they won't have sex with me (I just get sad and self pitying). 

I have just started reading "screw the roses, send me the thorns", so maybe that will give me the information that I am looking for. However I am a very slow reader. In the mean time I might try to wean my self of these sites. I might not, I might be back tomorrow as if nothing has been said.

Lousy cold and insomnia, although it is not quite insomnia because I can sleep all day, literally. The other day I woke up at 5, 00 PM, but then I can not sleep at night. Also still no sex. Misery.

So I am just trying to remember when I started to be interested in kink. In a way I think I was from quite an early age (I mean pre teens, not 3). I used to day dream about torturing someone in a sort of sexual way. Then if I was feeling a girls breasts (I'm older now) I'd have a desire to squeeze them really hard, stick my nails into them. I thought about holding something in my hand, like some nails or tacks.

By the way I think I can say all this. No one is offended so far? This is supposed to be a worts and all account, but also I am not a psychopath. I have never hurt a sole. I do not even like to kill spiders when I find them in the bath.

So it never bothered me that I had this stuff running around inside my head, even though I did not really understand what it was doing there, but I also did not do anything about it. I think that, before the shades of grey books, a lot of people just kept it to themselves. If you met someone in a pub you could not really ask to spank them. Although I was sort of vaguely looking on the internet, but kind of not very hard. Then about a year and a half, maybe as long as two years (I have kind of lost track) I just thought, I need to do it know or I will be too old, so I have been looking ever since then.

My "interests" are not all that unusual. I am dominant (and straight. For some reason I do get the accessional message from men) I have no interest in switching. (In five minutes I am going to have a shower so I will continue another day). Perhaps it is easier to start by saying what I do not like, Hard limits: Blood, scat. I insist on using safe words and condoms. Animals, children, anything that is not consensual, Um, I'm thinking. I prefer privacy and indoors, I might get into a group thing eventually but, to start with, just one on one. I am not entirely sure what it means but I have a feeling that a princess or baby girl would not be ideal for me. A brat, maybe if I could train them any way I wanted.

Its after midnight but I have not showered today, so, more another time. Thanks for reading and hope I did not go to far.

I have noticed that a lot of bloggers post poems. A lot of these poems are deep, hart felt and emotional. So here is one about a mouse.

The little white mouse. 

Theres a little white mouse
who lives in my house.
I wish he’d get out
as he upsets my spouse.

He eats all the crumbs
that I drop on the flow,
then he has the effrontery
to ask for some more.

He invites his family
round for a party.
I’d chuck them all out
but his mum knows karate.

He plays Rock and Roll
whirl I’m trying to sleep.
I’d move out my self
but the bills here are cheap.

I wish he’d go away
but he seams quite content
to live in my house
whirl I pay all the rent.

He could live in a field
like the field mice do
or, if that was no good
he could stay at the zoo.

He could go to Jamaica
or maybe up South.
He could save up his money
and get his own house.

I wish he’d just leave
but it seams he won’t go.
I beg and I plead
but the answer is “no”.

Who would have thought
that a little white mouse
could cause so much grief
just by being in my house.