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please, Sir
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previous posts ... small thing, big impact: ... getting closer to my daughter's visit ... me: my webpage, which includes contributions from friends email:
yes, please :) ... tiny pic of the scene collar and leash that i put on the cat ...
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Calendar quote: "When what we are is what we want to be, that's happiness" - Malcolm Forbes So many times i sit here just staring at the screen. Words won't form in my mind. my thoughts are scattered into directions quickly lost. In the middle of the night i wake up to the ideas that i want to write about, but i am reluctant to turn on the light and jot them down. i don't want to wake Master. i don't want to wake me. And the journal suffers. my guilt grows into a large, tangible thing, alive inside my head. Where does all the guilt come from? Was i taught how to feel guilty? Perhaps it is just another facet of my personality, or it is something that everyone experiences and i am still learning how to cope with it. Maybe it doesn't even matter that i do feel guilt, so long as i deal with it correctly. But all this just because i haven't been keeping up with my journal? i think maybe i am just being excessive. i love the quote i chose today. i don't know if i am what i "wanted" to be, or if it is simply that i was who i was and have finally discovered that. But i do know i wanted to be happy. And i am very happy now. It scares me, yet it is exhilarating just the same. Still, i worry that i will wake up one morning and the happiness will be taken from me. Often i find myself sitting quietly, not moving a muscle; just feeling. i will have been very busy, working on projects or cleaning the house and suddenly have the need to stop; need to feel the nearly-physical hug of my content. i often stare at Master. i drink in His profile, His face, all the contours of His body. i never tire of looking at His hands. i can bring myself to tears if i allow my mind to drift forward to the time when one of us must die, and i selfishly hope that it is me that goes first. i don't think i could bear it not being able to see Him. And then i scold myself for being so morbid. How can a person love another this much? Yet i do l and with that realization, i know the pain of it. Yet even in the pain, i am happy. i am what i wanted to be. i am what i needed to be. i am who i've always been. Hello, janine. ... shadoe March 7, 2000
This Bloodstone site
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