Solitude, why I need it

I do my best thinking, soul searching alone in the early morning, sometimes when I'm not quite awake. The solitude is a strange, lonely comfort when sorting through things. It doesn't judge, doesn't demand time, attention, it just is; as I should be. Within these all the brief moments I'm allowed to be vulnerable, weak, paranoid, scared, helpless, strong, whatever emotions I've bottled up since the last foray into solitude come to light.

I naturally tend to dote on the darker side of life - it calls to me often, singing its siren song, luring me to the jagged rocks where I would crash. Day-to-day life doesn't grant the luxury of that. Yes, it's a luxury. A luxury to be able to be pulled towards your fear. Not dwell in it, but be forced to see it up close and personal. Fear is strong, but becomes much weaker when it's seen in the light. So for me, being pulled towards it, whether against my will or willingly, is necessary and powerful. In those moments I find catharsis, tears, anger, despair, longing, regret, worry, depression, and anxiety. All of those feelings have power, over you, me, those around us - a power to stop some people, to propel others, and to paralyze some.  It's a choice whether I stay there, whether the sirens hold me against the rocks, where the storm of fear wreaks havoc on me. Sometimes I choose to stay for a while, sometimes I need that - need to feel those things so I can remember what they are, remember that once I strapped myself to those rocks and allowed the waves to crush me day after day, and that I'm not that person anymore. Revisiting the rocks is necessary so I never forget.
Equally important is leaving the rocks. Truly leaving them, knowing you won't need to be there for long. All things in life are temporary. Death has finality, but the living can choose to move on. Many of us kill ourselves, our spirits, on a daily basis, coming back for more, a grotesque groundhog day reliving our pains and fears all the time. We don't have to. We can choose a different course. Each day, each moment is an opportunity to not follow the sirens. I would say not hear, but we always hear them, we can simply choose not to follow. Make a different choice. It's like a muscle, we have to build it up and in the beginning we're too weak to do much, but in time, it get stronger.

Sometimes I get it all wrong

It makes me laugh when people say they're scared of me. The concept truly is hilarious, I'm one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. I'm compassionate, caring, empathetic, attentive and above all, reasonable. Every one of these things robs me of the ability to be a "true Dom." And I'm about two seconds away from saying fuck it all. Either I should just be a douchy dom, they seem to get all kinds of respect, or just hang up my Dom hat. I am just a girl after all, I'm not deserving of it anyway. Aren't I just a submissive who hasn't found the right Dom anyway? (as all women are) [demi-rant and MASSIVE sarcasm font]

Sometimes I get it all wrong, I do all the wrong things, and make all the wrong moves. Yes, I fuck up, and when I do, I like to fuck up big (there's no point in being half-assed about a fuck up). My propensity to be compassionate often drives me to do it all wrong, there's no one to blame but myself. 

For example, I poo poo'd Doms who had to capitalize "Me" or "Her" or "Him," and had their submissives lower case "i." All I could think was what assholes were they to demolish one of the basic tenants of English grammar for their own ego. How naive of me. Now I understand it, and it has nothing to do with a Dominant's vanity, it has to do with maintaining the balance in the relationship with a submissive. This was lost on me, assuming that balance was maintained by daily or ritualized contact. Not being a submissive, I don't know how their minds work, though I do try, so I couldn't see that they need this reaffirmation. NEED it. As foreign of a concept as this is to me, I need to accept it for the well-being of all involved. So chalk that one up as a tick in my failure column.

I also failed to understand that though some choose to submit to me, that doesn't mean they don't need a not so friendly reminder of this, often. The concept that one would be forced in any way to submit to me is appalling; however, that doesn't mean that they don't need forcible reminders of their role and responsibilities. It's another component of reaffirmation that I missed. *chalks another tick in failure column*

Sometimes as a Dominant it feels as though I'm working terribly hard, rolling that rock up the hill a la Sisyphus, and the submissive is just sitting there watching and waiting for their turn to receive some magnanimous attention. About halfway up the hill I think "y'know, some help would be nice," and where I fail is when I think that it's not their job to help. HELL YES IT'S THEIR FUCKING JOB. A relationship, ANY relationship requires both parties to PARTICIPATE, if it's just one, then fuck it, that's not a relationship, that's mental and emotional masturbation, and really that's what twitter is for. Here I was thinking that I'm supposed to do all the heavy lifting, such a falsity I told myself, and allowed myself to not only believe but live. No, boys and girls, that's not the right path. To believe that because it's hard it's right is fooling yourself, not to mention robbing you of what happiness should be. Life is hard efuckingnough without adding difficulties. Let's not do that, k?

So yes, getting it wrong sucks, but you know what's worse? Not realizing you've fucked up. Look, I'm not about to become someone's submissive because I made a mistake, I may be on some figurative rant about dropping it all, but I won't. It would be like giving up sex, or food, sure you can do it for a while, but it's not pleasant nor can you survive for long without either. (Okay, you can SURVIVE longer without sex, but it's just not fun). I suppose the best thing is learning and growing, evolving and becoming better. So yeah, I get it wrong, but I'll be goddamned (which I would be if I believed in God) if I'm going to stay stagnant in that or anything.

Blank Pages

There’s nothing quite so intimidating as a blank page, or a blank canvas, or even rock bottom. Why? Because every move made on these blank arenas define you, and you can be defined beautifully or as something unworthy to be crumbled up and unceremoniously tossed aside. So often people choose to leave it blank out of fear, worry that they won’t measure up to whatever they or others have decided is their worth.

Fear is a loathsome thing, it robs us of too much life, too much living. Are we to be slaves to fear for life? Is there a point when we look past the fear to see that it’s robbing us? Is that what wisdom is, wisdom from a life spattered with fear, or just life lived?

I look at the blank and unfinished pages of my life and wonder why I never finished them and wonder if it’s too late to finish them now. I’d like to think that there’s never a point when one can’t pick up the pieces and complete those blank things to redefine who we are, as long as that’s not the end.

One word at a time, one stroke of the brush, not to be afraid that the finished concept can’t compete with your expectations of yourself, or your hopes, it’s not a competition. (well unless you’re trying to get published then I suppose that yes, it is a competition, but let’s not focus on that now shall we?) That’s how I want to live this life, word by word, stroke by stroke, step by step, and appreciate each and every one of them for what they are and not what they should be. Acceptance and enjoyment are the keys to filling out a blank page.

Yes, these are words to me, reminders that life is too short to waste it in fear, and maybe they're words others need to hear too.