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Previous - this entry written on November 13, 2004 at 9:08 am - Next Lerofera isn't doing well right now. Just sayin'. *shrugs* Poor Cat is pacing the floor. I'm not doing too well either, honestly. The last few nights... you know how sometimes when you've stayed up too late everything gets silly? Like that, only a lot more violent and a lot more Split and a lot LOT less pleasant. Feels like I'm losing it. Right now if I acted on what I want to do, Caleb would be in tears and Kadin would be beyond screaming, bloody and bruised, something of use visible in his eyes. Right now, hate would be infinitely better than anything else I've got to feel. Hell, hate would be... satisfying. Real. Something I could cling to. Something I could feel. Something I could taste. As it is, everything is so very horribly empty. My plans have been going seriously astray - I'd expected to have the f'ing branding iron before I even came down to California, then to be able to get it while we were back in Portland. No go. I'd expected to have the energy and health to be properly forceful - between kidney pain that keeps me from moving my hips much and fresh-pierced nipples that make holding a struggling slave rather tricky, again no go. VERY no go. I had expected to be able to use him until both of us were satisfied. Instead I'm sitting out here staring at a computer screen while he sleeps, aching, unsatisfied, feeling more miserable than I felt while he was gone. What the hell is up with this? Protect me from what I want... actually, protect them. Someone keep them safe, gods know I won't be able to hold back much longer. Something has got to break and unfortunately agonizingly without enough doubt to save me I think the something will be me. I feel disconnected. I can't taste anyone properly right now; everything is hollow, dust and nothingness, no satisfaction, no real relief. Just... ache. Need. And each moment the need goes unfulfilled, rage. Want to know what's funny? No one who could do anything about this will read it. Not in time, maybe not ever. I'm disappearing. I need to find an asshole, something to stabilize me a bit. Problem being, I have no options here. Nothing, no one who can scratch that particular itch, no one I can trust enough who could do it right. Maybe I should just go beat someone. I would kill for some amatryptaline right now. Hosted by Diaryland - All Rights Reserved - Image, Layout, and Content copyright Jax Raven - - Do Not Feed The Moose - |
