I just got out of a long bath... my skin finally feels clean and soft, my hair is wrapped in a faded blue towel, a blue-and-white sarong clinging to still-damp flesh, a few droplets of water still sparkling on my shoulder, my thigh, the curve of one breast. There is an odd scent in the apartment now, bubble-gum and incense and minerals, and I find it to be quite a pleasant change from paint and the odd smells that the heat strengthens - stale food and stale breath and waiting... even waiting has its own scent.

"Giving In" is playing quite loudly now, fitting my mood. I'm not giving UP, certainly. Not, at the moment, surrendering myself to anyone else, placing myself second, nothing of the sort. But giving in... that one I might admit to. Giving in to the urges, the hungers, that ebb and flow each day, that are so strong right now... I rather suspect I am ovulating. I've noticed the worst of my sadistic urges, along with the strongest of my 'fuck-me' habits, tend to coincide with that point. This sucks, generally, since that means that at the worst possible time I am suddenly even MORE likely to fuck someone, even if they protest, perhaps particularly if they protest.

Caught up
in life
Losing all my friends
Family has tried
to heal all my addictions
Tragic it seems
to be alone again
I'm giving in...

Tell me, t'lesh... will you give in so easily, tonight? Will you simply bow your head, accept what I give, what I offer, what I demand? Or will you struggle, trying your best to make me feel pity or guilt or any other emotion that might win you mercy? The hunt is always more fun when it's a bit of a challenge... but that's a dangerous line to walk. Too much of a challenge and it stops being fun, turns serious... always such a fine line between play and reality, between kindness and cruelty, between love and something so deadly-cold that nothing can stand with it.

I'm looking forward to tonight. I am. Not because I actually want or expect a challenge other than the ones I will create... not because I think it will be some beautiful, glorious moment... not because it will be satisfying or frustrating or ANYTHING in particular. I am looking forward to tonight simply because I will enjoy being, for a little while, myself.

It's not always easy, and never very pleasant, keeping a part of myself quiet. Putting some aspect of my soul to sleep, as it were, is never something I relish. It - this hunger, this desire, this need - is as much a part of me as the breath I take, as real as my dislike of mushrooms and cheese, as my taste in books and clothing and men. It changes sometimes, flexes, some days it seems almost invisible and some days it seems to be a monster waiting for me to open my eyes and Hunt.

Burying it is not easy. Keeping it quiet around people who do not, for various reasons, appreciate it... becomes incredibly frustrating. (And now "Battleflag" by Lo Fidelity All-Stars is playing, and I can't help remembering half-dancing down a narrow, dark hallway toward the living room where it echoes from speakers, a cub and a hawk both sitting there, neither aware of how much I want them...) I can understand that for some people, participation in the madness that I take such pleasure in... well, for them, it's just not an option. I think I need to keep my distance for a while, from such people... it's been buried too long. Time to live again, I think. Time to live a bit.

And you, my sweet obsession, you are going to be the breath of life for me.