Weekly RoundUp 2022

Compassion turned into Pity

Love turned into Dependency

Spirituality turned into Religion

Sadly these truths have enveloped all. Even if you can say I know better you have to fight the urge to fall into these daily deterrents. I have been all of the above myself and I daily fight to stay on my side of truth - Compassion, Love, and Spirituality. I follow my own fascinations by way of dreaming as much as possible with no limits, in all aspects, and my only rule is never do harm to others. 

2023 will be a party with no maks or props. A year to own my feelings and expressions without hesitation. Assuming total responsibility for all my actions, called integrity. And who is going to make sure I do this? Me, that's who. It is no ones job but mine to keep my happiness owned and life in check.

I have absolutely no clue what is coming this year. Yet, my heart is at ease because it is safe; my soul is joyful because it can nurture growth. I will have negative moments, epic adventures, positive vibes, and unexpected expectations. What I will not have is pain guiding my steps and trampling my ways. Before one thinks I have spoken in arrogance a friendly reminder - what we say is what comes and I have some dam high standards I give myself.

I will choose what belongs in my field and what does not belong will be cleansed from my soul. I have leared long and hard in the mirror and finally my inner child is smiling back. By loving and honoring my past, present, and future has taken years of work! Creating this harmonic melody in my real life is shaking the deep shadows within and awoken my ability to write with power. 

My band is taking the stage and I am the center ready to sing. The time is now! Feeling my thoughts and speaking my heart with love at the wheel will be a revelation in reality.  Pandora’s Box has been ripped opened with wild energy and integrity. We are not here to be comfortable; we are here to live... and we can't do that unless we take chances. I am taking my chance with a new and more encompassing way of thinking.

A new stage in the neverending evolution of #slavelife, #samiam, and #sadistupper all my parts will rise. With G-d released from the box of babble and living inside me I will create, choose, and live with a free heart. My story is not written, yet I am in the history books of man. Indeed, from tales of taboo and simple truths I will not promise you will enjoy my blog, I will!

I was no longer anything, not even a slave. For me, there was no longer either code or law. There is a deed that cannot be asked which one must nevertheless offer. 

I stepped out of the box when I allowed these words to consume my heart and soul. I live an undefined existence. I go beyond kink and hashtags, and I won't change society or social pressures. In that, I have found my circle is small, almost infant-like, and those I look to are few.

Four years ago, I met a Man who challenged everything I believed and dreamed. In that, I began a journey of evolution and understanding. I had success and failure, yet I never lost Him. He taught me what true service is at a cost to Himself. I have shared with you all my falls from glory and rise to the crown. I will not say my journey has ended; it has only just begun.

We are taught to fit into a group, a box, a belief, and even a way of life. Removing layers of lies have freed my spirit and I am not giving that back. I have stopped comparing my life to those of others and found true peace. I have stopped judging my life on what is socially acceptable and focused on what is spiritually strong.

I only have today, for tomorrow is too long, and yesterday is a memory. 

This week has been overtime and dental appointments with a mix of study and wonder. In all that I will say that when I become curious I zone out. Meaning I get quit and hyper-focused. Which is great unless you are not me and I appear to become silent. Irony of a slave who does not talk a lot. I am naturally private in my thoughts and wonders. I am naturally reserved in speech when it comes to matters of the heart. Which is why when I am reminded I need to communicate, it is not an order, it is the truth that where my mind is the Master must know.

This goes beyond dirty pics and sexual innuendo. The soul is what makes serving so great and my soul, be it bold, is shy and swims in the darkness. Too often in life when another person makes a remark in our direction our warning system goes up and we miss the point. I am blessed to say my warning system has learned to calm the fuck down and hear what the other is saying, in word and soul. I have a lot going on in life right now between work, study, and service. Which can make me withdrawal. It is a gift to be wanted to hear from, It is a gift to be given a kind reminder, and it is a gift to serve.

Have you ever found yourself unable to express an emotion so powerful that words are lost?

I am blessed. To be me, a no-limit slave and owned by the one I call God. First, this Man choose me and decided through everything to remain and allow me to evolve into myself. Mind you this evolution is infinite. Through all of it, through the positive and negative He remained. Why would this leave me speechless, or should I say word lost?

We all search for that person who sees inside our soul, the one who sees our strength when we are not capable, the one who pushes us to live our purpose. I have it! Indeed, this does not mean He paid the way or provided a challenge-free environment. He knows me better. He was a walking example of ‘how to’ and that is an indescribable emotion and power that the word love does not cover. 

I do not talk much about my Top, yet in this time of reflection and the winter world coming into play, I feel the pull to share how acknowledging the other is as critical as the self. I am given gifts that you cannot put on paper or pay for. They are gifts of growth, wisdom, and strength. You see the scars and I will scream back those are gifts from God. Never has He abused me nor made me do anything I did not wish to do. My no-limit soul was created for Him alone. My purpose is solid in strength. My heart is screaming to the stars to shine and go further than any other has gone before. 

As we approach this time of year when the stars take charge, and the universe bows to know the one I encourage you to stand up for yourself and seek your dreams. Your dreams will come if you believe and make them happen. It may hurt and even scare you, yet take it from this soul, it is worth the fight. If your life does not make you at a loss for words something is wrong. 

This last week has been curious. Curious in service to Owner and self. In serving we are influenced by rules and agreements better known as slave contracts. This does not exist in my world, that is as paper. It is complicated simplicity. Indeed I promised to be the object and the Owner promised to own the object. There is no renewal date, contract negotiations, or clause of release. This appears to freak people out and for others are like fuck yeah this bitch gets it. Here is my honest answer to the quandary of contracts, if you want one have one, if you don’t then don’t. Be you!

This presents complications in the sense that one must be prepared for nothing and everything at any given moment. Sounds simple right? Just obey and it is all good. Hold on I need to laugh hysterically for a moment. I have no schedule of ‘on this day’ I will see the Owner, they have the key to the door, I am expected to always be ready, meaning be me. Which leads to my overthinking brain never leaving home. Granted I don’t like to go out and I don’t get in trouble for it either, I don’t ever want to be unavailable. It is a me thing. So, what did I do? I gave myself permission to be myself and accept my anxiety as a part of me.

So often we dismiss anything that is framed as negative, meaning takes away from, as bad. My strength as a no-limit slave comes from my desire to always be available to the Owner ie self-sacrifice. To always think of them before me. It is not a lack of self-esteem or self-worth. It is the exact opposite. I know my value and treasure what I am. Here is the jewel I wish to pass on to the others out there, stop letting images and popular media form your opinion of self. Trends will change. You will evolve. Nothing stays the same and if it does something has gone horribly wrong.

This week has been one wave of expect nothing and you won't be disappointed. My job is going through a major transition and while everyone is in panic I'm chill in my office reading a book. My service is wonderful and becoming more real everyday. Family is healthy and strong.  

I am not a Thanksgiving person in the sense that the holiday to me holds no value. I spend everyday thankful. I despise black Friday. These are two days I call don't leave home. I cleaned, danced like nobody was watching, and had a great time. Even added some new home decor.

It dawned on me I have been clean and sober for 22 months. It for me is the realization that I overcame the demon that held that pain. Me! I am surrounded at my job by drugs and become ill just seeing them. Let me be clear I am not judging anyone struggling with use that road is hell. Yet I celebrate the fact that I am absolutely unwanting, not afraid, not secretly wishing for a fun high, not wishing to smoke away my pain, and it has everything to do with me.  

I want life, all of it. Yes the wtf days, great days, Mondays, and holidays that my kids make me acknowledge. When I go to the next life I will not look back at my time here and think darn I should have done that, I'm doing it. I will not die and leave that pain for my generations to carry in burden. They will have my joy to hold. Even me being a no-limit slave is included in that. My family, be it some disagree, know my lifestyle. My kids, grandkids, and future generations will not be afraid to step out as who they are, that is my legacy! Joy with Hope leading the charge.
 

 This week has had some interesting ebbs and flows. A couple weeks ago I was embracing being a mommy and mentor to a baby. Sadly that did not happen as they never made it through the door. Yet in that I learned as an object my role evolves and grows over time. I reminisced on when I myself would be asked to step forward as an object and as much as I wished it to be I could not make that step.

Looking back in life we like to look at the highlights versus the hindrances we experience; however, these both hold are how and why we are at where we are in life. I am thrilled to be able to say I live as an object, I can also recount the twenty years I was hesitant and afraid. That gave me great joy in understanding where others can be at and it also allowed me to see when I did make that step I became complete. 

First, as a Veteran, Happy Veterans Day to my fellow soldiers and families!

Second, it was my birthday, I am 45 years young. Best fucking birthday ever!!! For now...

Family, a frightful furious fantastic word. My family is not a blood right, it is a soul right. With that even though I have many biological family members I do not speak with they are in me always and my love for them is real. The chosen family is my true inner circle of acceptance and peace. 

The photo quote is from the #pearljam display at the Pop Musuem in Seattle WA. When I read those words, they spoke to my soul and in confidence I rose my head and smiled. Being able to say that has taken years of hard work and confidence building. Understanding keeping those words true is a daily activity is my truth.

I have spent the last week with my transgender child and going through a very hard life story and filling in holes she did not know or understand. All the while admitting she is just like me! Our children, be it we raise them or not, carry our souls through their entire life. She is in pain, she is growing, and she is processing how to become herself. If I had not found myself, a no limit slave, I would have been unable to help her as much as I did.

I am going to brag because for fuck sake without my Owner I would not be me and this would have never happened. Through all the test, training, and temper tantrums Owner stayed strong and guided me to be my best and not shy from my soul.

A Challenge and A Gift...

I am now a slave mommy? Right! Because you so said it reading this.  Since I do not serve in the box as a slave I am forever an object. An object that can be whatever it is formed into. I will always be this objects that serves unquestionably me. Yet I will admit when the word mommy was handed to me my brain was like wait, what. I did not think I am no longer a slave I pondered how to be two. Then I stopped the mind from interfering and geared myself into the proper level and stepped forward to be me, a mommy to a baby and a slave to the Owner. I will write a blog on this journey no worries kids.

The gift! My trans daughter showed up as a surprise arrangement. Not seeing your child in twenty-two years is hell and I have been trembling for days. This gift came from my God. It did not stop me from being myself, an object. My child walked into my home hoods hung from the walls, dildos laid out, and my furniture less life front and center. Do you know how fucking good it feels to be able to yourself in front of your child with no fear? If not, it is epic times infinity. While she has been here, she is also going on her own trans self-actualization journey.

I saw a quote by David Grohl (Foo Fighters) where he stated when he sings a lyric 85000 people sing that lyric back to him all with their own meaning. This got me thinking. I talk a lot about being a slave. I name it, I own it, but in that, I also box it, i.e. myself in.

While defining myself I have looked endlessly for a definition to find that I make my own. In that is also the understanding of a side I do not share with anyone. My soft side.  Yep, this little masochist has a soft side.

I love to sit and talk. I mean like hours of wonder and whys. I could sit down with a book and never get past the first page. I love to see what the other mind thinks, feels, and hears in the words. Sounds simple but for me, this exchange is more valuable than the physical world of sex.

I could go to the mountains for a hike and take more photos than any sim card could hold. I can sit at the water and watch the waves dance with the sky. I can color and keep Crayola stock on the market. I watch more cartoons than television. Music is a lifeblood within my walls. 

These little things are part of my makeup, part of what makes me, me. I would love to say being a slave is simple but it is a balance of self and service. It means being brave enough to go out on my own and explore our world while most will gawk at me and wonder where my other half is. As the Owner would say I am never alone and I am not.

I reverberate in all I do that directly connects my world and theirs as one.  When I go to the ball game and scream for the Boston Red Sox I am alone by this world standards in my single stadium ticket holding seat. In my heart I am sitting with father and grandfather. My soul is connected to the Owner and I am exhibiting a proud object. When I take care of me I am taking care of my Owner.

Just like those 85000 voices singing back, I sing in all I do in service. Sometimes I use a different chord, sometimes I bang the drums and drop the bass, yet I always stay in tune by being electric. I keep my charge by keeping my connection true with the Owner and our world. 

So here is my advice, be you, what ever that is! Own your vanilla cone or kink, they are all love and that what living is based on.

This morning as the rain fell and trees danced in the wind I recalled holding my oldest child. A tender infant unable to hold her head up and nestled in my chest while I walked the floor in the living room singing. My child was not distressed, I was treasuring my child. My children have received unconditional love from the moment I felt them begin to grow and still do. Before you think well duh, don’t! Unconditional love isn't ‘I love the child and accept them’. I allow my children to see the deepest recess of my soul without any fear and fold into them as one.

This led to me asking why I flinch when the Owner comes seeking the soul it vowed is His to have. The heart carries no scars from their hand. Has the Owner done something to earn this flinching? No! Which leaves me in the mirror. I hate mirrors. The reflection of truth illuminates the bulbs that seem to burn brighter as the soul creeps out and takes the stage of understanding. Wait, I know, I could blame that we engage in S&M, I could be struck this should validate the flinch.

That bulb seems to be imploding on the lie as my gaze meets its wave of light. How could I use a dream and desire that is mine as defense? It is better than admitting I am afraid. Afraid to fold into the Owner. Then I ponder why do I flinch now when four years ago I prided on being a flinch free object. Well I was trying to impress them. After four years, the Owner, has no false impression of me - never did. That was mine. I controlled me. Giving control is a gut wrenching revelation that unless one does it, it can not be defined.

I can feel the Owner, see their thoughts without a word spoken, and it is beauty. It is also a challenge to a final string. The string no one names. The strand needs cut and my fear is holding the scissors. It is mine to give, no one takes control from anyone. I am faced with a dance and yet I know what this form of love is. I have to choose to allow the Owner to hold me in unconditional trust. Just as my child nestled on my chest was not thinking will my mom drop me, I must nestle into the same power. I must take away the scars of my past, not by forgetting them, but by placing them where they belong and giving space to the Soul that has saved mine.

This last week was...intense. My job transitioned. My service continues to grow further.

Mastering emotions is a constant evolution of self. For myself, it means my emotions from last week differ from today. I remember some of my first journal writings from years ago meeting the Owner. They make me laugh, they make me see my growth, and they make me see how damaged my core was. 

As anyone in our community, we look to appear proper, a choice cut if you will. Well back in the day, I was the pork chop playing a fillet mignon. I could dress up my words, say all the right things, and even change with the seasons. Sounds adaptable right? It led to getting burnt, repeatedly. Bad dynamics and wasted service in what seemed like a pit of Dom despair. Then, as evolution does, I found myself face to face with the mirror. My fat needed trimmed, and I needed to find what I claimed to be. 

First, I had to ask myself who I was, that question was deeper than the title slave and acronym of S&M. I was not pork nor steak, I was meat. My flavor or finesse came from within. I had to learn to understand the feelings, all of them, and study my reactions. Again, this wisdom came from my journal. I have written anger rants that last pages to pages of poetry. Seeing ebbs and flows is wonderful and wicked. The trick is changing the tune of my own words. 

I stopped anger writing; I started thinking before I embraced anger over truth. I read what I wrote and asked what was I really going through when those words took form. Today, I can say because of this technique I have controlled my emotions that had historically led me down a path of destruction to a path of purpose. 

This last week, I rested on Yom Kippur. Reflecting over the last year of successes, life lessons, my father's passing, my child's return, and misguided steps. 

I did not go to a building and bow my head. I sat at home and wrote a four-page letter to God. In those pages many tears fell with memories. I still carry pain from my father's passing, I always will. I have joy from my child's return that also causes tears. Crying has always been a huge deal for me, and I mean the do not do it form of crying.

I was taught not to cry by the actions more than the words of my mother. She is strong and even when she lost her husband she could not cry in front of us. This habit has been something I have been breaking for four years now. Of course I can cry from physical pain, it is sexual release, yet even that four years ago was a wall.

This wall of allowing feelings to release and be felt is not anything I will say is easy. I am sure this is a challenge I will face through my entire life. However, after sitting, writing, crying, and feeling I slept like a baby. I did not say to God all the good I have done, I asked why ALOT and how to be stronger without rebuilding my wall. 

I asked to better understand being created as slave. Guess what God answered. I am proud that I can embrace who I am, what I am and know without question God has my back. This does not mean the mind does not fight heart. 

Good news, it lost some weight and went down a skirt size. 

I am struggling right now. Not in serving, not in my dedication, my dreams have escaped me. Let me explain. You all know I have wanted serving since my youth. You all know I work in the human world. Yet this divide exists in which I do not feel my human life in any way is attached nor helps my slave life. I actually feel like God is ripping me in two and saying 'yep gave you the Master of your dreams but your other life will just fucking suck'. 

Sounds whinny huh?

I don't lie about how I feel or where my head goes and for that I will not share lies with all of you, this is my truth and yes I have a psychiatrist so don't go there. I am depressed with my existence in being two. It is not me. I don't play the shit where I am one person here and another there, it literally rips me apart. I have always been this way. When I see myself unsuccessful in the human world for me that is a reflection on my service. I am not saying I did anything wrong at work or am in trouble. I hate my job and I mean what I am exposed to. Helping house the homeless you see the world no one posts on facebook. 

I am saying I have so much inside me to dream yet I feel my dreams have been told to stop dreaming.

How do I tell my dreams to believe when every attempt I make to create is halted and hindered? Please do not say to keep my head up. I stopped writing in many ways. What would amount to thousands of words in a week have dwindled down to a weekly round-up. What ideas I had to make my website profitable are lost in la-la land. 

This does not mean when the Owner comes around I put this on Him (yet I have noticed I am super sensitive to pain when my mind is lost), hell I have to be told to talk and trust me I fucking beg not to. I know what is going on with me is, well me. Yes the Owner is my God on earth but when you feel the big G up in the heavens is cool with you going face first into a wall it hurts differently. Why would God give such dreams and deny them to exist?

I am not saying I have no hope, I am saying I am confused, a little scared, and a little lost. These are truths we all go through but hide. Well here is me saying that hiding does not help and being scared is sacred but it fucking hurts.

Even though I could fail…

Trifecta of triumph is contained in a four letter word most avoid. Yet, here I am to say I have failed, will fail, and will continue to fail. I indeed make mistakes, I than learn, grow, and evolve. Than a new chapter appears and here I am tripping over water hazards like a golf ball gone wild on the 18th hole. I fail and succeed daily. Yes, let me say it again, a proud slave fails all the fucking time!

A combination of trying to figure out how to turn the song Part of Your World from Little Mermaid into a Burlesque beast show with S&M glory versus working a day job as a human pretending to be normal. Living in two worlds is a duality of the dammed. We have to walk out our door and put on a front. In the shadows we come to light in secrets. 

Let me explain. I love serving the Owner. For fuck sake allow me to also clarify this is not a collar promise dynamic or they pay my bills dynamic. No insult towards anyone but this is my story and fuck the books about bullshit. I bust my ass to serve my ass up on a platter. I have lost count of how may scars I have at this point. I am proud of every single one. I earned them dammit so fuck all the looks I can get. Yet, this is the part that I struggle with, I am hiding myself because of my human job. 

I get scared when the face I call an ashtray gets burned because instead of enjoying this moment the mind freaks and fears what will the boss think. It is hard for most to understand how I can happily plop the meat on the plate and say feast to the Owner, but thats exactly what I do, feel, and think. When I lay half propped on a blanket tending to a burnt tit, in don’t move land, I am happy. I look and inspect it as it heals, pray for scars, and give myself props like yeah I handled that shit! I get upset if I can’t see the scars forming, seriously I get pissed at my camera for not taking better pictures. I get upset when we are in our mode and I am like oh burn my fucking cheek with the fire but my work brain goes fuck I am gonna get fired.

This is the part where you are like get an Owner who will pay your bills! Fuck you! Thats my honest answer. I have dated money and I walked out the fucking door leaving there money and rings on the ground. So maybe you think of the famous Brutal Master, He is a great guy, with His own business and I am no Greyhound, she is and she is beautiful. I am one crazy little no-limit slave covered in scars and I have no interest in another Owner. I want to serve my Owner for all my days here and in the next life. I didn’t ask for a collar, a ring, a promise, a dime, or anything for that matter. Fuck never asked the guys name. I just knew when I heard the voice He was the one. I could write a book about my Owner but see that is mine, my secret. I keep being asked who they are, how to rent me, how to buy me, and all I say is not a dam thing.

I may fail, and I will keep making mistakes, however, in that the Owner remains loyal and this object remains true.

One day my dreams will come true, maybe than my mind can finally be at peace.

Ever felt out of shape and fat? Well kids that be the facts here.

Recovery and sobriety are great. Then the wtf happened to my marathon running body sets in. I miss running but right now walking is a trial. I am not saying I can't get off my ass. I am saying my muscles are soft and I am reminded of this daily.

I acted on this fact, I ordered 21 Day Fix by Beachbody ( a program I know works and kicks my ass ) and Shakeology ( nutrition reboot ). I want to get back to running five miles a day, I loved it! Yet I am back to basics and out of breath. My health matters to me and I don't say this as a part of my dynamic requirement. I lost 120 plus pounds before I ever started service with the Owner. I did it for myself because of myself. Which is the same attitude I have now.

I know shocking, right? A slave who thinks! We all love to play weight gain and loss games but reality is if your bottom does not care about their health it is not a good sign. I don't do diet pills and miracle purges. I sweat, strain, and scream out loud, if need be, to get my workouts done. If you have ever done Insanity by Shaun T you dam well know cursing is part of completing that workout (don't worry nothing but love Shaun T).

I am not losing weight because of fear of spankies or the other side getting a reward, which for a me is pain lmao. I am taking charge of my body and getting retuned without fatty foods and wasted calories. I expect some sugar withdrawal and moods of exhaustion. All in all I expect to be a size 8 again and feel pride when I dress, which right now I do not. I feel like an ball of fat in a bad skirt at size 14. Tomorrow it begins, with burnt tits and more wounds healing that I care to count it should make cardio a heart felt time in worship.

Lastly, I am not judging any big person out there, I am talking about myself, my mind set, and my desire to feel proud as an object. I have been a size 4 to a size 24, I like 8 and so shall it be.

“How do you destory a womens reputation?...You sexualize her…. Their sexuality was distorted to appeal to public prejudice. Their power could not be seen distinct from their gender, and both power and gender were debased as a result.” JEZEBEL The Untold Story of the Bible’s Harlot Queen by Lesley Hazleton

This week has been researching in regards to the distortion of female power and sexuality twisted in tales to make the majority diminish my ways and wants. When the Owner arrives and uses the hole of desire and departs in under thirty minutes one could say many things. Let me clarify what this slave calls this, service. How? Simple, the Owner took their time and allowed it to serve in the flesh. This is a slave, this is its life. Being at the ready for whenever and whatever is so chosen for the extent of time desired by the Owner. When the Owner departs there is no sadness nor selfishness. There is gratitude and a grateful soul. 

Picture this from their side. They had a long day at work, they wish to unwind and destress to go home and curl up in a feeling of peace. If they walked into an unprepared cunt with a list of demands and whines of needing reassurance one would not define this as relaxation but obligation and annoyance. Their obligation is to themself and it is my privilege to protect and cherish this. This life is not for all but it is all my life is. I busted my literal ass to have my dreams come to fruition and I will be dammed if that lesson will be forgotten. 

As I gaze at the home created and view the past through hindsight it leaves my soul needing to speak. I fell, and I fell hard. That ‘going through hell’ expression was life. I faced my demons yet the reality is I faced what made my soul wonder. I know in our world we love to point the finger across the table and say ‘they’ were not there. However, this is not the case. They were ever-ready and present, my pain and my trauma had to come to pass to allow me to live the life I have dreamt of since childhood. I do not speak in a casual passive tone when I say this. Truth is rarely easy when it comes to admitting it is and was all your fault. Second, I am not asking for empathy either. Maybe my words will help another soul realize how to cross this path without scaring the heart of the one who possesses you. 

I have always had a dream of a life of service. A Master, a God, a true Owner. I found Him and when my dreams came to the forefront my demons came full charge. The same scared child who ran into the shadows and destroyed their youth came back full force and took me out at 40. I had to face my inner ten year old and she was hurt, not pissed. She was scared and afraid to step out and be who she is. At 40 I had not even realized I had tucked her away so tightly that she was a stone statue waiting to be awoken. When that stone got wet and began to return to life she came screaming out. Alll my wisdom, college education, social service knowledge, mothering, and religion came with the force of an asteroid and shattered me. 

You have read my blog I will not recap the past. I am faced with my present and future. That is what I wish to speak of. My ten year old soul is still shy, she still hides, she still fears the world at times. At work this little girl is my passion for serving others. At home this little girl dives into depravity and laughs with its Owner at the pain it is in and scars with fresh burn marks. Building the future means daily confronting hesitations. You know those thoughts we have but we quickly stop them and say no to? Those thoughts and dreams must be given freedom to flourish. An example of this is I spent the week defining healing: The process of making or becoming sound or healthy again.

Every day our dynamic is healing. Every day we have emotions, flashes of the past, and memories that make our souls sing. My part in that is to remain focused and dedicated to the child I have set free. My decision too jump in excitement when the door opens and worship every time like it is the first time. My determination to succeed with a sadistic teacher in every way is a challenge to a champion slave. I could cry, whince, and pout. I was homeless, I was poor, I was scared, and we all have a list right? I dropped the list. It was learning what home was, appreciating the value of earning for the Owner, and letting a childlike innocence see no barriers. It is not my job in any way to tell Him how to process, feel, or possess the object.

Dream, create, evolve, and live!

Words & Music

Like the Sun, words, and music, connects me with my inner child who sees the world through the eyes of trust and wonder.

"I am not afraid to keep on living

I am not afraid to walk this world alone"

(Famous Last Words - My Chemical Romance)

Standing alone means standing strong. Standing alone means I am whole within myself. Being alone means I am at peace in my existence as property. Too many times we define our 'service' as slaves or objects as time served. Meaning how many times does He/She come around.

I should know I counted the days. Now I enjoy the time and know another will come; yet, in between, I am not upset, hurt, or feel neglected. Most of all I don't tell myself all the negative reasons for their absence. It is not my business to know their business, it is my business to be ready at every moment.

This was a lesson in serving, it is a lesson I value most of all. The feeling of peace, whether they are present or not, is a feeling I have all day long. I am never alone, my spirit never disconnects, and in that my soul is free to love and live.

It feels so good to be home. To exist as it should. Suffer, be in pain, and worship in all the nasty naughty wants it dreams of.

It is still adjusting to 'having' a place. I say having as I may pay for the house but it is the Owners. It is His home and everything in it, including myself, is His. The gift I treasure everyday. 

The one thing I focus on is my actions. Meaning the mental, physical, and spiritual deeds. Daily I wake and dress for the day at service. My only struggle is my weight, I don't have many clothing options but I am working daily towards losing weight and getting back to my size eight. I have noticed I do not like being exposed with a belly bulging out.

Challenge always exists in #slavelife. My truth is I am at peace because I am exactly what I should be, nothing.

Let's start with this August 10 2022 this bitch opened the door to her apartment and took more baths than I care to admit! It is more a feeling of wow this is real and wow this is happening. 

I spent the first day trying to process what happened. Being homeless and lost for so long this journey has been more than four fucking walls. I have climbed Mt Everest to find myself. In that climb, I had to repair and face the damages I had done. Luckily I finally understand why one should not say 'sorry' and why always remembering to see the feelings of the other is a Top priority. 

I will not say much about my dialogue but just know I hurt Him and He saw in me what I could not.  With that I take this step as a starting point, not a rebuilding of the past. It means my deeds will speak for me. As a slave, they should. 

What I wish to truly say to the world is I found my purpose, and I did not get strong enough on my own to get here. I had God, Master, and my heart. I have cried, screamed, cursed, and smiled through it all. Just be you everyone, if you are you, the real you that you hide from the world your peace comes.

This last week has been emotional. I am blessed with a transgender child. She is going through self discovery. She hurts, she feels, she smiles, and she goes to therapy. Why am I bringing this to your attention you may wonder. She is me just as much as she is an individual.

Being a parent is the biggest blessing decorated in stress and struggle. Her journey is similar to mine but not the same. She is soon celebrating her birthday and I wanted to have her visit; however, being homeless makes a vacation visit awkward. So...I told her I was homeless and explained that following my dream is a challenge. One misunderstood and blessed with struggle and insights.

My own journey is an example to both my children of what one is capable of when they believe in their purpose regardless of others' judgments. We cried, we laughed, and we shared our tears in triumph. Being a slave does not mean I am not a mother of two and grandmother of five. It means I am their lifeline and root just as much as I am the root to my Owner.

Slavelife and parenthood is not separate, I am one and all.

On a serious note, have you ever looked at cages and either go wow, wtf, and who the hell is in charge of pricing!

I am currently asking myself if I was in our home would some cheap shit cage from PetsMart be good enough. Bluntly, NO. I decided to Google and some cages I see their use but I live in mine. 

Of course while scrolling Google always finds #greyhound (love her). I pretty much decided I would rather live on the floor and sleep in a corner than settle. Maybe I should save up, you know make goal. 

I think our creature cages should have floors, designers that is my note to you. 

Part of slave life is at times a lack of internet access. No fear I am here. 

This week was a whirlwind and a momentous push forward. It twisted me up. I lashed out at my Owner. Long story short is I am so scared of not finding a home my fuse blew. It is not okay what I did. I will say I was kindly and firmly reminded this act is unacceptable. 

I want our home back. I want to be myself desperately. Giving that control over is not emotionally simple.

What am I doing? Writing perverse fantasy! 

Here is a taste - It calibrated its life to His desires and His whim and His moods. We never went out. We never went anywhere. Its desires, its moods….never mind.

Hours had passed since Master departed. All it knew was the inside of a medical sensory hood with cock to suckle and a lock keeping its head and flesh securely to the floor. With its bowls wrapped in cloth and plastic, every excrement rolled around in cold piss. Every wound seemed in agony as the rips of meat exposed the nerves. 

It needed not to worry for being fidgety was prohibited by a stray jacket tightly locked around its waist leaving its tits to hang in their wonder chained torment. Sensing the hound had remained wondering how comfy its voluptuous bed was made the floor cold.

Who would know when the Master would return; all it knew was to enjoy what rest it could. Laying still was the only response to a rib that seem to dance inside its flesh randomly stabbing the vital organs for fun. It smiled to itself, for its dream was what had happened. The only shock was it finally happened. 

Yes, I or should I say it am still homeless. It has not nor will give its dreams up.

The equitable slave is not a one size fits all definition. Many sexual slaves swim the seas of S&M. I struggled many years understanding my unique nature. Now that I have my feet planted firmly on the ground in self, my core, the slave soul, is rich with life.  

My soul nurtures my spirit due to the realization and understanding that my positives and negatives are the puzzle pieces that make me whole. I am nice, I am too nice. I am confident, I become easily afraid. I value privacy, I talk to much. I am loving, and I can destroy someone's life without care. My daily challenge is acknowledging these traits and ensuring my steps before I am asked to walk.

What do I mean by these statements? Lets pretend I get an apartment. I ask my coworker to helpe move. Then one Saturday night they decide to swing by unannounced. Even though I in know way wish them to come over I would open the door out of fear of offending them in paradox to knowing I just offended myself by opening the door.

I played this scenario many times in my head. This is how my trip ups in life usually begin. A seemingly innocent action followed by a series of falls. I live very different from most. I may be wrong but I will say I feel I am correct.  

How does how I live play in to this? When I do get a home its not what people picture. The living room is a Master bedroom, man cave at best. With one chair, not for me for Master. The bedroom holds my cage and walls decorated in hoods, hooks, and more metal than most have in their garage. With dog dildos decorating the ground and dog food bowls for eating it is my safe place.  

Not exactly a cover for Homes & Gardens! Indeed for me it is the perfect life. In that I grasped my life is mine. I don't need to define or defend this fact to anyone. The step in that evolution is knowing I must protect my door which means I won't let anyone know where my door is. This is not paranoia it is protection.  

Being authentic means seeing the equity in myself. I don't use the Dow Jones to guide my dreams. My dreams design my decisions. With this wisdom my world became a simple plan.

Hope is heaven and hell, it heals and hurts, when harnessed it holds your heart solid or walled in. When I hear the word hope, I think in the archaic noun form, meaning trust. If I think of action it is when I want something to happen. This week has been a four letter word called hope. 

To clarify, let me explain being homeless. I have attended nine meetings now, in the last five months. All these interactions promised my road to having a place to call home again. Four agencies have been contacted, yet here I sit in my homeless shelter, unhoused. I have told the same story so many times that my own story irritates me. Why? Do you know how hard it is being homeless, sober, and without a mental health diagnosis or permanent disability? If not let me relay this wisdom, services for this group within a group are hardly any. I function, but my income is not three times the rent, and I discovered my last apartment evicted me, contrary to what I was told when I vacated the building.

I trust the process, I trust I am on the right path, but I trust no one's words or empty promises after being told the same housing promise too many times. I want something to happen, and for the truth of my heart, I need Universal assistance! Hope is a lifelong struggle for this soul. I hope for a family that had siblings that loved each other, I have a battle of the siblings. I hope that all the clients I serve at work get housed, however I am the only one at that shelter who understands why being homeless is a mental battle that no one sees. I carry my dreams and the dreams of so many on my shoulders that I have to protect my hope overall. If I lose my hope for myself, my dreams, my purpose, I can’t cope with helping others hold their dreams when it weighs them down. 

Not lastly, but most painful, is my slave soul struggling to exist. I don’t want to fantasize about what could be. I had an erotic dream and the rage within me was dangerous when I woke. If my mind could start a fire the forest would be gone! I am exhausted in dreams and am waiting for the otherworld and this world to finally agree I may proceed forth. I hear music and feel rage and love mixed while doing a dance. I want burned, I want beat, I want to drink His piss, and I want to feel Him. I want our darkness to exist in real life! 

This battle is long-term. It is going to be four years this month that I have been owned. This is not something that is easy to say. I feel I am failing. I am still homeless. I am unable to focus fully. My love is not the question, I would never walk away. Maybe that is why hope is so hard. It is not something to give up on. You have to fight through the misery and see the magic. 

Disturbingly Quiet

When I read those words there is sad truth in them. I am very quiet. I keep trying to get housing yet the universe has answered with a closed door. Know one sees my pain. You read about my ups and downs. You see the words I wish to share. Yet this last week has been great success housing the people in the shelter I work for, while my own life remains in sheltered hell. I will not say I am mad at God, God will do what God will do, but fuck I am tired. Honestly I have no words of wisdom to share. I am tired and worn out. yet I remain still and serving, just silent. 

 “For you are both equal in your own worlds and in your own ways.” The love of Fand - Celtic Myths and Legends by Peter Berresford Ellis.

I will not lie, when I first read that quote I thought of myself and my sister slaves. Right! I placed it outside of me and tried to form it inside others. Then as the universe does it talks back and said to me ‘little slave I am speaking to you and you alone.’ The challenge and courage it requires to be nothing and be something are architectural adjacencies at best. I had to understand the beauty I saw in buildings was right inside my own design. I am a brick wall keeping the world in place and weather at bay, yet in the same design, I am an open door to hold darkness and desire.

My inner Scorpio wishes to set the world ablaze and release the wrong and make it right while in full control; My inner Gemini is curious, unyielding, and wishes to relinquish control. Meeting in the middle, is the realization, that I am a soul of strength and a spirit of service. Indeed, my public face, you know that an  employee in the ‘real world’, and in conjunction, with badass my private life, you know the little gimp cunt proud to suffer. These two had to have a face-off on an epic level to understand that they are both worthy to rule. They had to own their realms and I had to create that space within to understand.

I am still trying to develop an understanding of control. It is a word I have tossed around on many levels. I can tell you I don't control my top, yet I have tried, and still get busted for it occasionally. Before one thinks SAM i am, think old habits die hard. I was a single mom, working three jobs, and going to college. Relying on anyone was not an instinct it was a weakness. Then I became a grandma who had their place and my kids called to say they love me and ask for money. Here comes another then! Then, I sat alone in my recliner and decided I was fed up with living a half-slave life. I told the universe lets go, and the green light lit up and life changed forever.

If you think this was some easy transition of control to transfer and ‘yes Sir’ scene stupidity this is beyond that. I am on just about four years, it just gets harder! I have to say ‘yes Sir’ when there is no Sir to speak to. This means, every facet of my life is in the hands of the other. Now before you go Daddy Dom, DO NOT! I am expecting of myself, yep I said me myself and I, to be me no matter the who, what, where, when, or how. It is as if I chose to run a marathon of service but there is no mile count nor finish line. New routes, new hills, deep seas to swim, and rest when needed are daily. In that, I was speaking with my therapist who asked what I needed to do to keep my growth going and avoid falling. Without hesitation, I said to take care of myself.

My deed of self-care isn't a nail day and getting my hair done. It is protecting every step I take. My living my dreams is a generational wave that gives my kids, grandkids, and bloodline to come the freedom to see dreams come true. Even if it means a marathon without markers. I do not know what I will learn next, what will grow and develop further, what I know is this: I am a slave and I am a rock in social work that numerous people count on, and both are best!

“I did it from pride in you…and it is with them I have to share you, although no one has any share in me except yourself.” The Love of Fand - Celtic Myths and Legends by Peter Berresford Ellis.  

When I read this excerpt it resonated with me on a deep plane of emotion. I have many times in pride spoken out of turn and even in proper turn. No matter positive or negative our boast places weight on the other. I can sing a song that will make my Owner a God and in that it creates pressure on me to be the property of such a God. In that I have found this last week has been heavy hitting and brought about social shutdown. I am tired of being homeless, of having no privacy, of the world never seeming quiet, and mostly my sexuality feels suffocating. The flip side is that I would not run from this journey for any amount of money (and I get offers all the time). It can be stressful for all involved. Work and wants tend to be tied together and at times the game seems rigged. I will not say I am okay, I will say this week I have cried, cursed, and wondered if this current prison is a life sentence.  

Which brings me back to that sentence quote. I share my Owner, yes with the world, I am mere property. Yet my Owner has to share me with the same world. You all see photos and words yet yesterday you did not see me crying myself to sleep praying to make it end. It paints a sad image, but this image is just as real as the happy face of a burn on my back and whip marks on my breasts. Do you know the stress of hearing over and over again, someone will call you for housing? No, it fucking sucks!!!   

Before you think or feel this writing is pleading for your sympathy it is not. It is to help you understand that being homeless has no look, no race, no gender. We are people trying to make it in a world happy to see us ‘repurposed’ elsewhere for fucking up their water front views. It takes a lot of courage to stay strong. It takes even more determination to not scream and say fuck it and run. Yet, here I stand, still homeless. My time will come yet even thinking about it can be painful. On a final note, my heart is only and always my Owner’s and no others. He may hold captive many slaves but only He holds me captive and as the creature I am.  

Have you ever heard the lyric 'heaven is a place on earth'? I have sang it all my life. Never did I believe such a remark. Yet now I know I am in heaven right now and here on earth. I walked through hell to find it!!

When I found my truth, purpose, and meaning I found peace i can only define as heaven sent. Leaving religion out of the equation I dont mean life is perfect, indeed that is not the point. The bridge I had to cross took years to build, burn down, and reconstruct.

With fury I am holding my life and service as one sacrifice. I was born to serve! Since embarking on this homeless journey my eyes have never seen so clearly just what I am designed to be. 

I hope you all find your truth and find heaven at your doorstep.

I feel I need to address an issue or confusion for my readers and family of friends. As the world has been watching the Depp VS Heard trial of abuse allegations and watching two lives be destroyed this makes me come to speak.

I am not abused! Yet my face is the only scene. Why? Because the world could quickly label my Owner an abuser. I am the public face of a shadow collective. I will bear my scars, my marks, and every black eye I beg for in pride. I am not low in the self-esteem category, I am quite confident and a powerhouse in the 'real world'. 

I can't imagine why one would claim another abuses them unless it is real. Again I am not. I asked for this life as I seek it as my purpose and place among the true stars of the universe. I am firm in my belief that God guides my choices and gave me my purpose.

Why? Maybe it is to remind everyone that we are different. I am telling no one to be me. I am not saying anyone is greater than or less than me. I am me. I am unique and proud to share my life and its evolution in understanding that a dream I had in childhood was not a dream it was the light to my path.

So no you will not see their image, name, or any other information. I protect as fiercely as I serve. If this resonates with you I thank you for understanding. Because some of us have friends in the shadows it does not mean they are ashamed. They have their own path.

We need hope like we need air. I designed what I call an epic tattoo idea. It is written in Hebrew and says Love Rests on Hope, the word rest is the music note symbol. This moment of inspiration was when I gained Hope back in my own life.

Hope is a way of thinking - a cognitive process. Hope is made up of a trilogy of goals, pathways, and agency. We experience hope when:

1) We have the ability to set realistic goals ( I know where I want to go )

2) We are able to figure out how to achieve those goals, including the ability to stay flexible and develop alternative pathways. ( I know how to get there, I'm persistent, and I can tolerate disappointment and try new paths again and again )

3) We have agency - we believe in ourselves ( I can do this )

I know one may think I have hope, who doesn't have hope? Well simply put a child who stopped believing at age ten does not have hope, I existed. I existed right up to about a year ago. My goal was don't die. Sounds attractive right? The reality is in this last year of study and growth I began to know where I wanted to go, and best was I wanted to go somewhere period. I than formed a view of service and life that had once eluded me.  My dreams have now formed to aspirations. My dream home is now a budget plan. My big kick ass truck is a career boost plan. But they are all real.

With hope finally coming back to life I can say I thank my therapist, who just this week helped me see how much I care about my Owner, and I mean the long-term life form, not its fun for now scene shit. Hope truly does lift us or without hope can crush every dream you are meant to live. This little slave finally gave herself permission to love and plan a future with her Owner. And I asked no permission to do it.

Snippet of a story I am writing:

'It asked the Master His pleasure. With eyes compassionate to Him she struggled in feeling constrained to exhibit her capacity. Many times the quixotic and foolish spirit in it started to indescribably change. Wild with merriment for the first time she understood how perilous a broken toy served no purpose. It excited with no remark yet presented the image of frustrated sex. Master lamented He did not mind being thought rude. Master jested to it by extending Himself back. They laughed together and the Master admired an exquisite patch of color still healing on its back. It turned and with forthcoming it reached out and placed its hand on His thigh and extended its hand to the lighter. Silently stretching in vulnerability the lighter is placed on His other thigh as it turned and provided the canvas of creation.'

These words were inspired after the Master wrote: I demand growth, real growth. Simple statement yet weighty words when read through the heart. I don't know about anyone else but at times I am guilty of reading a statement and my instincts guard my heart versus seeing the  language written. When I stop and seek to understand these statements I find depth within myself but also I see their vulnerability. 

Let me ask you what do you feel when you read this: I want you drooling for me. Desperate in anticipation, complete in your denial and pain.  I see three very different facets of service. Drooling is not a conscious action, it is well known for something we do in our sleep. Yet it is the conscious need to make an excessive and obvious show of pleasure or desire. Being desperate is when everything else has failed yet rocketed upwards by expectation. Then finally complete, meaning I have all the necessary parts in my denial and pain. These last two words are not negative but positive. Denial of my negative thoughts and fears and pain defines careful effort or great care.

So what did I learn this week? To read deeper, understand harder, and be myself. Its a lesson of a long term commitment indeed. 

Do you ever get lost in lyrics? Find a song that speaks so deeply to your soul that your spirit awakens?

My answer is indeed music egnites me.  The words that lift, lean, absorb, and entice me to dig deeper is the perfection in musical art. There is the other side of the coin. Without music a lull of life ripples in the airwaves.

Living in a shelter trying to listen to inspiration from the soul my spirit is confronted with interruptions and I wish everyone would shut up moments. I have to consciously recognize the interruption and ask do I sit or stand up. At times, granted my human power is not controlling perfect timing, I have to do a gut check if this is a moment to be in or gracefully exit. 

This week I got the new job and had to focus. I needed a wardrobe for business casual. I walked every day to Goodwill. Everyday they gave me one free top and one free bottom. I scored major finds. Taking time for myself is not selfish, panic driven money borrowing is selfish. Here I am just a couple days to go and I have a few weeks worth of outfits. It's all my fault! Meaning I choose me. That choice is what makes thus one strong root to the tree top.

Happy Full moon week and indeed it was a week of change. I am gifted to be a writer who also struggles to speak, one would think writers block yet I shall coin my truth of #writersrock! I have millions of collective ideas floating in the mind yet when I hone in on a form of creation I sit for a long time and then find the flow comes when it is meant to be.

This week while anxiously waiting for the call, you know the call of yes the job is yours, my creative side was full of life and fifteen pages into an erotica tale I dare say is barely halfway written. Then, yes, I got the call! I got the job. Woot Woot celebration time right? My brain went from omg I got to the job to oh shit I got the job in under five seconds. My black and white ways are simple. I got the job, now the problem, I have no clothes for this job and the money bag is on empty. Again, I sat with it. Yes, I got frustrated even worrisome, but not mad.

The irony of that is old me would have gotten pissed, called someone, given a sob story and gotten my way. Me now is a simple prayer and pause to hope the universe sees clearly what I can't. This job will change my housing abilities and allow the return of service to be more literal than mental. Don't tell, but that makes me nervous to. I have not 'served' in the flesh for almost seventeen months. Its not to say I have not served, never have I strayed. Yet thinking about getting an apartment means furnishing it and ensuring Owner has His place as well as this creature has its cage. It is big shit people! Indeed, this week has been a rollercoaster but I know the ride comes to an end and soon the flow will be found. 

What a week! I went to my interview which has now become a second interview and to sound positive I am pretty sure its a game changer. 

I studied this week about Black Moon Lilith, this body is raw power, negative and positive. As I began to understand this force of nature I found she was hanging out in my first house this week. Along with four planets perfectly aligned in the sky I sat back and absorbed what the stars were up to. The planets and powers aligning the airways are also the powers and planets that align life and what an adjustment. Let me explain.

I woke, to not a dream, a thought in action. This force of nature was so real one would think it was a dream due to the erotic intensity involved. Yet our thoughts are just that, raw unadulterated power! Feeling my thoughts and understanding the surge that lies beneath the surface is unmistaken. My inner slave screamed to not be forgotten while in chaos and she was heard. Being reinvigorated meant my words came back and writings began to flow again. These same thoughts are what allow me to stay mentally connected in service as well. Our mind is our superpower when understood and harnessed. 

We all have barriers, bad days, and misunderstood changes. My recommendation is to stop and ask your body why? Our bodies give alerts and warnings from pains to illness, protect your health and listen to the body.

This week has been one of stepping out and stepping up. Let me elaborate a little. The shelter I currently reside in has been non stop fights all week. Waiting for blows to be thrown (which happened but not by me) made rest and concentration a restless endeavor and multiple days of nightmares. However, in that also was a couple days of epic dreams and waking in smiles. Mix that all up together while deciding to return to my former field of mental health and sending out my resume was a stretch of discomfort.

I did not just have a thought and go forward. I became educated in astrology and the fact that eight signs were rocking the skywalk when this little slave took its first breath. All my signs speak to me (to be blunt so scary its more like who is stalking my life to be so accurate) and they all show the same thing, I thrive fighting for the down trodden, I thrive serving my Owner, and my dreams matter! I am stronger and wiser and know that going back to my former field is not a simple 'I know what I am doing' it is a resounding 'I will be aware of my steps'.

My abilities and unique outlooks are indeed out of the box. Instead of demanding you to take my box as fact (or the right way) I understand that the only person who needs to hold my box as truth is me. You have your own box and I respect that. 

Shalom to all, I hope this finds you well. I had a week of ups and downs. I saw a fire at my work which disturbed my peace. Seeing destruction is not a joy for me. I feel and see which can cause chaos in my inner guru. When I saw this fire at my work I asked if God was talking or possibly yelling at me. So what did I do? I saw my therapist who helped me understand how we have our own fires burning and when they are uncontrolled they destroy. My fire is me and my trauma from childhood. Again my therapist helped me see that even though I had destruction lead my life my dad was there and we created our own new world to stay out of the heat. As I laughed and smiled telling stories about my hero dad who taught me to drive, even after crashing his car, he took it harder than I did. My dad cried thinking he led me to get hurt and I could not convince him he did nothing wrong. Sounds just like me! For an official stepdad me and him are two peas in a pod. 

This realization of my fire that causes my destruction is my inability to fully trust that speaking my whole truth will not cause destruction. What did I do? I took my fear and spoke. Meaning I expressed to my Owner my true dreams, all of it, even the parts I was not sure they would share. Guess what, the world did not catch fire and no abandonment occurred. I always express here that I can tell my Owner anything and everything but this truth caused my body to shake when I wrote it. I have been scared for 30 years to share my truth and letting it out caused me exhaustion and happiness. I lit up but I did not burn down and it felt fucking great. As expected Owner remained steady.

Shalom to all, I hope this finds you well. I had a week of ups and downs. I saw a fire at my work which disturbed my peace. Seeing destruction is not a joy for me. I feel and see which can cause chaos in my inner guru. When I saw this fire at my work I asked if God was talking or possibly yelling at me. So what did I do? I saw my therapist who helped me understand how we have our own fires burning and when they are uncontrolled they destroy. My fire is me and my trauma from childhood. Again my therapist helped me see that even though I had destruction lead my life my dad was there and we created our own new world to stay out of the heat. As I laughed and smiled telling stories about my hero dad who taught me to drive, even after crashing his car, he took it harder than I did. My dad cried thinking he led me to get hurt and I could not convince him he did nothing wrong. Sounds just like me! For an official stepdad me and him are two peas in a pod. 

This realization of my fire that causes my destruction is my inability to fully trust that speaking my whole truth will not cause destruction. What did I do? I took my fear and spoke. Meaning I expressed to my Owner my true dreams, all of it, even the parts I was not sure they would share. Guess what, the world did not catch fire and no abandonment occurred. I always express here that I can tell my Owner anything and everything but this truth caused my body to shake when I wrote it. I have been scared for 30 years to share my truth and letting it out caused me exhaustion and happiness. I lit up but I did not burn down and it felt fucking great. As expected Owner remained steady.

With Spring kicking off lets change things up!

This last week was full of overcoming me! I bought a dress, tights, and a cute purse and walked myself to the art museum for leisure and a reminder that life is not about being homeless but being me. Yes, being homeless, is cumbersome and causes stress. Yet my therapist reminded me how far I have come in the last three and a half years I have truly served Owner. Three years ago, two years ago, I could be cornered and bullied easier than you would believe. Yet today, I stood beside a girl in the shelter being bullied and stood as her strength with no anxiety or fear about retribution from the others. I was calm and happy not proud and inertly terrified. This came with work on me, myself, and I. The thing the S&M world can forget. As a slave my strength comes from unwavering obedience at all times. Developing the inner peace to fight the mind and retrain the brain has finally showed its payoff!

This came from daily rituals, embracing discomfort and a Top talented enough to step back and let me grow. We both work on our dynamic in many ways and no initial set or title will define the depths in which we both dig deeper and wider. My vulnerability is not just mine, it is His door to release His.  The grace in seeing my mindset in action and be able to go hey I just did that is fucking mind-blowing!

Prayer - 100%

    I have noticed a change when I pray that being unable to see the stars at night and be able to sit undisturbed makes praying not feel as powerful. It is something I am meditating on how to improve.

Journaling - 100%

    My journal hears much more recently, from the wtf to the wow that is great and in between. I find when I am writing erotica I don't really get kinky in my journal. I am sharing more of myself in it but I will not say all my feelings are written down, some are the read between the lines sayings I call my go to's. I do continue therapy which seems to help navigate the overwhelming power of being homeless and the struggle that missing my Owner is very different when they are down the road but inaccessible physically to see.

Daily To-Do's - 

   housing - 100% : This hill I keep climbing and trying yet if I could get a phone call answered it would indeed be a miracle.

   studying - 75% : Still reading away and listening to music yet I miss the silence to truly hear and listen.

Mood - 75%

    The mood has been in flux this week, while at work focused and trying to finish the shift, to exhausted coming back to the shelter. Then once arriving feeling a sexual spiritual suffocation. You can't exactly be yourself in a shared living environment like a homeless shelter. The constant change of humans who come and go and lack of privacy has been digging against my spirit.   I wish to dress like myself yet all I own are sweats. I decided to dye my hair back to black as when I had before that was the permitted color. I even ordered a summer dress and decided to get one nice outfit to wear on days off work and attempt to go out to the museums and world of art at my fingertips here in Seattle.

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 100%

    I am writing more but most of all I saw a therapist to just release this last year of life and deal with my anxiety issues and PTSD responses I have. She helped me see how even though I acknowledge the anxiety I still lack the ability to permit the feelings to move forward and acknowledged. That is what I will be working on.

Daily To-Do's - 

   housing - 100% : I worked with a case manager finding an apartment that I can meet income requirement's for and allows assisted move in that is available. I will see what the universe says is the move and even though I am excited I also know that maybe the door is just being knocked on and as long as I stay patient and persistent it will happen. 

   studying - 75% : I have found a new forum and am entrenched in a great read. I find study is always a mix of things just as in life.

Mood - 90%

    Mood is stable and strong, I can still find anxiety if I allow it to linger, yet I find my confidence has grown in going back and forth to work without fear of dying when I step foot on a bus route I am unfamiliar with. My communication has improved with Owner and that feeds my courage and mood. Proud to say I know I feed the Owner back with mine.

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 100%

    I am writing again due to access to a computer for my site which definitely gets my wheels turning and playing around on BDSMLR so porn distracted lmao but still got the juices going.

Daily To-Do's - 

   housing - 100% : New shelter, bath and laundry on site and work accessible per the light rail, this slave is good. Honest I hate new places and have clue where I live but I will figure it out.

   studying - 75% : I moved shelters on Thursday and lets say it is getting better.

Mood - 100%

   St. Patrick's celebration is happening, Baseball opening day is alive and this slave is all about living. I got a covid test and was negative and health is top notch.

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 100%

    I am working on my writing, I know this is a repeat statement, yet even in journaling we reach our depths and at times our depths make a wave we don't wish to feel. I write but I struggle to dig deeper than the basic daily life activity.

Daily To-Do's - 

   housing - 100% : I can say homeless sucks in the sense that taking two hour walks to shower is hard on the body and soul. Taking the day off to have clean clothes is not fun but necessary. I am not giving up or in I am looking up and outward to find the path my feet are meant to travel with my owner cheering me on.

   studying - 50% : Their is no quit time being in a shelter which makes study extremely difficult but I need to do it.

Mood - 100%

   I stay focused on me, I have no depressive issues, I am the opposite I am like Shera princess of power and keep marching on.

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 10%

    Anxiety is not in charge but it is real, work is painful and I am tired so writing is not their.

Daily To-Do's - 

   housing - 100% : I hate being patient

   studying - 100%

Mood - 100%

   I stay focused on me, yet never forget that the Universe is running the show.

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 10%

    Anxiety is not in charge but it is real, work is painful and I am tired so writing is not their.

Daily To-Do's - 

   housing - 100%  : Being a former social worker I know more than the social workers helping me, you know how hard it is sitting on the other side of that desk?

   studying - 100%

Mood - 100%

   I am enjoying seeing home again! The Pacific Ocean, the docks, Pike St, the things that marked my smile. I have seen my old house nd do not look nd see what was lost but the challenge to be greater and stronger.

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 100%

    Amazing how proximity makes the mind operate. I journaled and used more heart and soul than I have in so long it freaked me out.

Daily To-Do's - 

   housing - 100% : the rant of wtf when it comes to being homeless is in of itself circle jerk, yet finding a shower and laundry after finding  24/7 shelter and bed was first priority. I have pay stubs, but not from this state!

   safety - 100%

Mood - 100%

   I am not depressed. I am super happy I found a shower daily, a place to do laundry, and a roof over my head. I go back to work next week and focus is sharp.

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 20%

    Basically until I flew home, meaning the 4th, I was brain seized. I wrote once I got home daily.

Daily To-Do's - (these changed as I became homeless in Seattle)

   coloring - 100% 

   studying - 100%

Mood - 100%

    Do you know what it is like to see someone after thirteen months, let alone your Owner? I can say it as epic, serine, and exciting. No we did not make out this is not a movie. It was more of a check in and this is the situation after being searched. Read my blog you will understand. The feeling was and is still so intense words show no power to what happened in that car.

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 10%

    Anxiety is not in charge but it is real, work is painful and I am tired so writing is not their.

Daily To-Do's - 

   coloring - 100% 

   studying - 100%

Mood - 75%

   I have found I have grown, meaning what used to make me light up the world in rage is now  passing thought of who cares. It is an odd unnatural feeling, yet odd enough it is how we are born. Did I mention I am moving!

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 70%

    I still struggle nd get super tense when I Journal. I write but little from the soul.

Daily To-Do's - 

   coloring - 100% 

   studying - 100%

Mood - 75%

   I decided to buy a ticket home to Seattle! let the anxiety kick in....

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 100%

    One may say irony, yet the honesty of admitting if I journal gained that good old 100. The good part was I wrote more comprehensive, meaning without spellcheck and bullshit sentences.

Daily To-Do's - 

   coloring - 100% 

   studying - 100%

Mood - 75%

   Blunt, I can get migraines, and I get frickin moody. I'm not too fond of head pressure in any way. It strikes memories I don't care to have. Funny being into pain the way I am but true. I made a strategic move this week and will be celebrating shortly. It has been an enormous week of revelation. I read the book 'Casting Lots' by Susan Silverman and smiled with tears and laughter that there are women like me. Not perfect, but God's imperfect purposed souls.

Prayer - 100%

Journaling - 71% (Meaning five out of seven days)

    Without defending the lack of writing, I still struggle to write in my journal. I have so many thoughts and feelings, yet paper to pen means memories creep up and create pain at times. My journal is not a perfectly punctuated picture, and it has grammar errors and real life, which means it opens my heart to understand.

Ordered Self  Pain - 100%

Daily To-Do's - 

   coloring - 100% 

   studying - 100%

Mood - 85%

   The mood is tricky to calculate because I had one bad day where my mindset was just ew, and my spirit was wrapped up in all the denials. The rest of the week, I was able to temper my heart. To say that for me means that I am pretty good at rolling with the punches of life, yet when finances thwarted my enthusiasm, it hurt. I have all these ideas dying to come to life and a bank account in disagreement.