Okay. Drama.

So I saw my wife today. Yay. We did our usual dissolute youth thing, wandering around smoking and dancing and generally unemployed/unemployable. Then we went to a friend's house, and of course, this being a small town, and not having seen him in a while, the topic of THAT party came up. Was all laughs until we came to the group conclusion that somebody spiked my drink. 

You see, normal drinking goes like this: Sober-tipsy-laughing-drunk-paraletic-unconscious. 

That night went: Sober-tipsy-laughing-solid three hours of utter memory blank-return of memory-drunk

I am not the kind of person who would make up some spiked-drink bullshit to try and excuse my bad behaviour. I would prefer my bad behaviour to be all my own work. I don't need an excuse. 

It is also generally pointless to spike my drink, given the high cost of drugs, and the fact that I already have a drink means the liklihood of my saying no is really not that high anyway. Failing that, just give me the drugs, and then I'll be both grateful and even less likely to say no. The secrecy is really unecessary. 

Anyway, the main act of the drama. A couple of guys had told me that it was Gary who did it. I don't know how they know this, and its not like I'm in any position to disagree. They might actually remember something. So we have an anger about this, because Gary is apparently not such a nice guy anyway. Later, my wife talks to Gary. He didn't do it, and is upset about this stain on his reputation, but he does know who it really was. Somebody I have never heard of. 

I don't even know if any of this stuff happened. Everybody is going mad around me, slinging rumours and spinning stories, as I sit in the middle, serene in the knowledge that I managed to do bad. 

Why would this even happen?

I feel horrifically sad. Everything inside of me is dead and nobody outside wants me. I am a burden to the world. 

I am empty and broken. 

I don't want this. 

You will hate this post

Yes, I'm going to write about how much I adore my man and how he makes me feel so incredibly happy. 

Its true. 

Oww

I think I am hungover. Also sleep deprived. 

Through being drunk, I think I made some online enemies. You see, normal folks get home drunk and sleep. I can't sleep during the night, so I get home and talk to people. Lols ensue. Especially when one of these people is possibly the most arrogant man in the world. And by arrogant, I mean off the scale of human experience. He has, and I kid you not, written a 'self help' book centred around how incredibly awesome he is. He also took it upon himself to regularly criticise my lifestyle, and worse, my relationships. Being told that I was actually single, because any relationship I have is meaningless because it is not exclusive, got somewhat wearing. Worse were criticisms of M, and the constant questioning of my loyalty. This arrogant guy also reckons that he is the best dom in the world. 

So, us both being drunk, M decides to talk to this guy. Arguments ensue. Is rather entertaining. Somehow I don't think he's going to come back and tell me that I'm a slut any more.   

I am hated.

Yep. The status quo is restored. 

I knew things here seemed a little too... charmed. 

Nothing in my life can be maintained for that long. There is a law of nature requiring me to do something catastrophically stupid on an annual basis. Or possibly more frequently. 

For some reason I feel it is a little unfair that I'm hated for something I can't remember. Notorious, I don't mind, but people assuming malice really gets to me. My main rule in life is to never hurt anyone if I can help it. Also, apparently I am the one to blame for starting a fight. A guy tried to stick up for me against another guy, and both ended up punching, and the nice guy's nose got broken. So this is apparently evidence of my terrible character. I am truly the fallen woman. Though considering where I was before, if I fell any further I must be in the basement by now. 

Yes, today I have been mostly stressing. Which led to the vodka and hash pipe, which led to some pretty cool artwork. I got my scribbling mojo back! 

And I still have my M. He is still pleased with me, and so those little townsfolk don't seem to matter much anymore. He cares about me, and they don't. 

Money

There's some kind of conspiracy to take my money. 

I spent £5 on what the shop owner told me was UV paint, to find that it was not UV at all. 

My phone got robbed, that's £90 worth of thing gone, and then £45 to replace it. Spent £10 on vodka that someone took.

Then I went shopping. Spent £10 on jeans that don't fit. Spent £5 on food. Spent £20 on other stuff I really don't need. Went out and spent £20.

And today I get my phone bill. £73. What the hell. Especially seeing as 2 days ago it was at £40. I really need to sort out my contract. 

Anyway, that adds up to £188 of unecessary expenses in 2 weeks. Not even including the stuff I actually needed.

I get £60 a week to live on. Fucking stupid irresponsible fucktard. I think I was a bit hypomanic last week though. That's a good excuse right? And now I get the comedown, and have to face the consequences and pay the bills. 

Why can't I do anything sensibly? I thought I had the money stuff under control at least, but apparently not. I'm a disaster in life. I think if I was living on my own I'd have been thrown out on the streets long ago. 

Justine: The Ending

Is both abrupt and unexpected. Also slightly horrid. 

Overall, a good book. I recommend it to anyone with an interest in literature, moral philosophy, or torture. 

Book Review

I'm currently reading Justine, by the Marquis de Sade. It is definitely entertaining.

Justine, as a woman thrown out to fend for herself at the age of fourteen, tries to live a good life. A good Christian girl, she sticks to her morals. Some good it does her. She seems the unluckiest girl in the world. 

Unlucky to the point that when she runs away from a crazed incest loving sadistic paedophile and tries to take refuge in a monastery, she finds that the monks are actually, guess what? Debauched sadists! 

This contrasts with the life of her sister, who manages to seduce, murder and deceive her way into high society and live a life of immoral luxury. So, the question is, who will come out on top? Will virtue eventually be rewarded? Will moral crimes be somehow punished? Or is pleasure, rather than morality, truly the way to make it in life? 

Sadism is named after the good Marquis, and you can see why. Every man in this book seems to like nothing more than molesting innocent girls and attacking young flesh with whips. However it is also witty, philosophical, and quite short on the gory details, seeing as it was written in the 1700s. De Sade was still imprisoned and declared insane for publishing this novel, and it still hold the power to fascinate. Tales of weird depravity alternate with the perpetrators' moral justifications, as they try to persuade innocent Justine to join their libertine lifestyles. 

I haven't finished this book yet, but she's already been whipped quite a lot, lost two toes, her money, and her virginity, been branded with fire, and generally molested and beaten in every way. Her naivety and attempts to appeal to the goodness of humanity only seem to enrage fate.

Fate may well be the ultimate sadist. And sadists like it better when you cry. 

Being Forgiven for Doing Stupid Things

So I have an owner, M. Or should that be Owner, with a capital letter? Anyway, we have a good arrangement, where we are both allowed to do what we like, with whoever we want, provided we don't actually start a 'relationship' with them.  However, there was one single exception. I ask can I send pics to this person? Answer: NO. 

So guess what I did. 

Yes, I was deceitful, and I betrayed trust. I also woke up the next morning hungover and terrified and full of self loathing. There seems to be some horrible part in my mind which compells me to try and ruin everything. I don't deserve to be happy, and I'm going to be rejected anyway, so why not do it now, on my terms, sooner rather than later? 

That stupid part of my brain can go and die. 

I owned up to what I did. And he was not happy. But he didn't reject me, didn't just dump me. He decided that I should not any more speak to this person. So I obeyed. Me being weak has cost me. But it is a fair price, fair punishment. I don't know it's fair on the other guy though. I'm sorry to him. 

But M forgave me. 

The first orders. To change my behaviour. To make me better for him.

To be a slut. 

He makes me smile. He knows all of the terrible things wrong in my head, and he likes me anyway. He likes me because of them and in spite of them and I don't think I ever believed that such a person could exist. 

Of course, I still predict that everything is going to go horribly wrong and I'll end up heartbroken and even more of a mess than before, but that's probably a little paranoid on my part. 

I can't wait to go see him. About 3 weeks to wait. Hurry up, time. 

I knew it.

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Day of not so much fun

Feeling randomly stressed for no reason. Getting nothing done, don't want to do anything. Impatient, trying to get my new phone and sim cards to work. Keep getting intense urges to break things. 

So I decided to smoke a little. I really need a smoking implement that doesn't leave my lungs in pain. Anyway, I giggled for a while and ate biscuits. 

Now am pining after Owner. This is bad. I do not do this. I'm not this pathetic over anybody, ever. He thinks its cute though, so it isn't all bad. 

I spent so long cold hearted and careless, but now I care, and are cared for, and it's amazing. It's also really really scary. Change. I know everything changes, and it's definitely time for me to do it, but it's still always easier, somehow, to stay where you are. Even though where I am is pointless and obviously unsustainable. 

Eek. So much anticipation.

Sleeeeep

I'm tired. Went to Stafford, spent the night with a friend. He's sweet. 

There are still nice people in the world. I think I made nice people happy. 

Got some funny looks on the way home when random commuters spotted the bite marks on my neck.  

Now I've got to do an entire German speaking assignment. I have about 4 hours to do the whole thing. But I may accidentally fall to sleep before then. 

I don't want to fall asleep, I want to talk to Michael first. Will be telling him all about my adventures.  

Massive LOL

I'm banned from the club because I got caught sucking someone off. 

This makes me giggle. 

I might actually be nearing the edge of my limits. I think my hand is broken. I also need to stop putting cigarettes out on my arm every time I get drunk. Find a new party trick, girl. That one is getting boring. 

Oh, and I got taken home in a police car.

I really wish I had my phone. That's the only part of last night I'm upset about. All my numbers, all my texts, my dirty pictures, everything. Lost. 

If the drugdealer boys stole my phone then that really is a new low. I mean, sure, take advantage of my drunken state, but don't rob me as well. 

Oh look, a new depth of depravity

Getting fucked, while drunk, by a bunch of guys, while they feed me drugs.

On the down side, I lost my phone. Was a good rave last night though. 

Fucking Emos

Killing yourself? I used to be exactly where you are now. 

I still think you're a selfish, inconsiderate bitch. But I don't hold it against you. As long as you try and get better. 

Because there is hope. 

I am a businesswoman

Because I have business cards. They advertise my services as a "writer and sexual performance artist". I am not sure how sober I was when I ordered them on a special free trial offer. 

Anyway, they arrived today, and Maddy took some. She gave them to some people, and then I got a call. I have succesfully self-promoted! Details of this call are to be kept secret for the time being, but if anything comes of it, then I will most definitely be writing about the results. I'll only say that the 'writer' part of my job description is not in very much demand. 

A fabulous career beckons...

(a spot in the gutter awaits)

 

RIP Sushi Mouse

Tonight Sushi mouse was dead, all curled up and cold in her little nest. It was nearly midnight. 

Funeral. Wearing my nightie but no knickers, I put on my black hat and my pearls and my mink. Digging in the moonlight, a hole big enough for a mouse. Didn't take very long at all. Lit a candle and buried my little darling. Gave her food and nest to keep her comfortable. 

Good night little mouse, sleep peacefully.  

Hehehe (that's a dirty little giggle)

I have found somebody as twisted as me, who agrees that I am as twisted as him. Twisted in a complementary and compatible way. We talk on the phone at night. He makes me admit I'm obsessed with him. He values my weirdness. 

He is also the only guy I have ever met who is happy with me being a slut, and I agree that it is only fair that he can play with whoever he wants as well. He gives me this freedom. Hell, I think he'd be disappointed in me if I decided to stop fucking around. 

Possibly, not that long ago, you may have heard me swear off relationships. However this is not normal relationships. This is a very caring, friendly and kinky arrangement in which I become his property. He takes care of me, and I be a good girl. He owns me. 

Yes. Me, the angry scratchy defensive one, is trusting an owner. It's like a feral cat being domesticated. All kinds of heartwarming. Possibly I'm the only person on the world who would describe slavery as heartwarming. Oh well. 

He makes me happy.

Obligatory Moan

This essay sucks. I hate my course. It's so boring. I can't wait for it to be over. 

Ok, moan over.

Now to finish this assignment and start on my German one. Expect crying and rage. 

Yay Maybe

As you may know, I am covered in scars. They make me look like a crazy person, and just lately I've been wondering what exactly people think when they see them. Are they a turn off to guys? Do they scare or disgust people? The reason for this random bout of paranoia is that I met a guy, he saw me naked more than once, and not once mentioned the obvious history I wear on my skin. Was he damn unobservant, or too scared to even ask? 

Then on a totally unrelated mission, a friend sent me to Scar 13's website. And maybe, just maybe, my porno career is safe. I can continue being interesting. 

Peircings + Paintball = Pain

I can not resist blogging my brother's misfortune/stupidity. 

Last weekend he got a hip piercing. (They look like this)

This weekend he went paintballing. 

Direct hit. A steel ball embedded in his flesh, leaving a nice spherical hole. No more piercing.  

The Happy Side of Today

I got a new skirt delivered in the post. Its really short, one of those flippy layered things, in black and white stripes. It is a bit slutty, but in a cute way, and I'm sure my owner would well approve. OK, I promise to stop all of these stupid oblique and self-satisfied references to being owned. At some point when I'm feeling eloquent I'll explain, but for now, I have a nice skirt so I am quite happy.

Also my dad bought me a good mic headset when he went to PC World. We also have a new printer now, networked so that I can actually use it. The luxury...

Even better than these things is that I talked to him on the phone again tonight and he makes me smile. I feel like a total fool, and some part of me is warning that I'm only going to get hurt in the non-fun way. But he is so very brilliant. If I tried to invent a matching man for myself, I don't know if I could have done quite this well. 

I haven't even met him in person yet. Shut up slut-girl, and stop making a fool out of yourself. 

Unhelpful

I am doing a German course at the Open University. The assessments for this involve me recording myself speaking and then sending them through the internet to my tutor. For this, I need a microphone. Well, guess what? My dad is doing his utmost best to avoid buying me one. Also, I am apparently banned from ever owning a webcam because 'there are more important things I should be doing'. I am utterly fed up of that being used as a reason for things. It doesn't bear up to any logical scrutiny. But basically, anything that is not work is actively discouraged. However, usually anything to do with my education is supported with great enthusiasm, so I must be really hated to not even deserve my course essentials.

I think I am way too cranky today. Maddy made off with my fags, and I get no good sleep because my mother has taken it on herself to wake me up at 8am every weekday, and this being a weekend she decided to wake me up at some random time anyway. Why can't everyone just fuck off and leave me alone? Or at least not actively try to make my life more difficult. Fucking hell.

Happy

I was woken by a slap in the face (I love you Grace), and then Maddy made me coffee. I was needed to witness Grace's awesome new tattoo.

The day was sunny and beautiful, we were remembering what it was like to be warm. A picnic bought from Tesco, including a bottle of wine, and some (non-Tesco brand) weed was all we needed. Sitting on a fallen tree, being kids, smoking and eating Jammy Dodgers.

Home early. I finally watched Dark Knight. I must be the last person in the world to have seen this movie. But it was worth the wait, it is rather good. Ironically I was wearing a Dark Knight t-shirt while I watched it. I only realised this about 3 hours later, and then realised that I was kind of a dick for wearing a shirt promoting a film I hadn't even seen.

Later, talking online, and then a phonecall. He lives 200 miles away, but is the most compatible person I have ever met. We are both twisted, but in ways which complement each other perfectly. He owns me. He makes me feel so happy.

Good Morning

I did not go to bed. I think I will drink some coffee and eat some cereal now.

I spent the rest of the night on the internet. I learn so many things every time I do this.

I learn disturbingly funny things. NSFW. NSFAnywhere really. (And I found this as a link from a normal blog, before you ask.)

I found that Amazon recommends me really shit stuff. But my wishlist kicks ass.

CBA to link to where I've been. Probably mainly on MSN anyway. OMG can tell I had no sleep, typing in abbreviations and not caring that it makes me look slightly ignorant.

Now I think I'm going to find coffee. Then I'll sleep. Yes, I know that's the wrong order completely, but fuck off. It's how I operate.

LOL

Mingle2 - How Sexually Experienced Are You?3

The life of the common woman.

Awakened at noon by the doorbell, my friend is here to see me. I am half awake and we drink coffee and play Guitar Hero. I totally rock out still wearing my pyjamas. My father walks in, looks at my friend in disgust, and asks, 'What are you doing here?' He has chosen this day to work from home, and apparently there is now a rule against people visiting the house during the day. An hour later, friend is sent away, and I stand ashamed of my own father. He is so lacking in social skills.

Now it is time for me to get ready. Shower, clothes, make-up. Dick around for a while, eat, do a crossword, tidy up. Change into a shorter skirt, fine-tune the eyeliner, style the hair. I am heading out the door, as father is coming home from the shop. Cue argument, in which even my mother takes my side. Even she agrees that greeting somebody with an interrogation/critical rant is not good form. However the situation still ends with me telling my daddy to get the fuck out and die, and storming out. Yes, I am so mature.

I march to Belper powered by anger. It is a good way to make a journey fly by. I have things to do tonight. Meet my friend on the way, make a quick phonecall, go to a cashpoint, and go pick up. This is a task entrusted to me by others, and I must say I did rather well.

Next stop, boy's house. No more details for you on this. But he has to wake up at 6am the next morning, and screw it if I'm doing that, so it's back out, and to the pub I go.

Having eaten only a couple of snacks today, downing half a pint, a double and a single in an hour was surprisingly effective. Then cheesy ships with ketchup as I walk home with my brother and two of our friends. Oh yeah, and I have a thing with one of those friends too.

Oh, and all through this I was exchanging texts with another man.

Now I'm home, eating chocolate swiss roll (got to have at least one chocolate thing in a day) and chatting rubbish on MSN. It's 2.36am and I may soon go to bed.

Nutritional Profile

Today I have eaten:

slice chocolate cake (200 kcal)
mug extra strong coffee (50)
sausage (120)
peas (60)
baked beans (100)
cup of tea (20)
giant bag of chocolate buttons (920)
babybel (50)
herbal tea (-)
apple juice (90)
water (0)

Total: 1610 kcals.
Calories from chocolate based foods: 1120
70% of all calories from chocolate

I am massively healthy.

Real Boy

So I was all happy to not see him. But I'm seeing him again. He was sorry. He wants some fun, and so do I. I will go and rock his nice normal-guy world until it falls apart and he dies of fear and exhaustion. Then in the morning I will go home.

And Now Comes The Bad Part of Being Loved By Many Weirdos

I now have to start pruning down my collection. Hairdresser was sadly the first to go. He got dumped by his girlfriend today. He asked the question, outright, if I wanted to fuck him. And so I say no. And I don't want him to come and do my hair either. He's probably going to go kill himself now, and it will be all my fault. Sorry to Maddy and Tom, I just lost us all our free highlights, but he was getting creepy. Phonecalls to me while he was with his girlfriend, constantly wanting amusing conversation and goodnight texts, this is not a person who I want knowing where I live.

Now I expect that some others will fade away. I found the normal people who I need, they are staying firmly here, but hopefully over time the obsessive weirdo quotient will decrease. However, the ones who make good conversation are welcome to stay, simply because I need something to do at 4am on a Wednesday night. And, I suppose, there will be plenty of new people I meet. The social scene must not be allowed to stagnate.

Warning: Incredibly fucked up revelations.

I live in a state of constant amazed amusement, gazing wide-eyed at the world, and what I do in it.

Somewhere in my head I am still that good little girl. Perfect Pip, who got really good marks but would scarcely dare to speak. The one who had never had a boyfriend, the one they pitied, the girl with the glasses who read too many books and always did as she was told.

Then that girl gradually stopped being scared of everybody. She dared to speak. She dared to scream and drink and fuck. She was still scared, but that heart-pounding adrenalin became her favourite drug. That girl went a little crazy and lived a lot.
All the while, the good girl was sitting with her notebook, watching the all-night parties and casts of strange characters, writing and wondering and being thoroughly entertained. Once upon a time she dreamed that she would live like this. Yes, she may have been a good girl, but there was always a fascination with the seedy and debauched side of life. Nobody knew this. She hardly knew this. But it was there, and now it could be indulged.

All this indulgence is not good for little girls. Quiet girls are not wanted at parties, they get pushed to the side while the real women drink and flirt and worse. I let her watch. She gets no love, this lovely character. She's the one with the empathy, the will to please, the kindess and the big eyes that gaze up at you wanting a hug.

I just kept kicking her. She's the part of me that gets hurt, the part that gives and trusts without suspicion or subtlety. She's the one who gets ripped off and left broken hearted. I thought she was a liability. So no more empathy and giving and submission. Excise it. Cut it out and burn it up.

Couldn't do it. I still keep my mixture of empathy, caring, and utter, fucked-up, going-too-far, pursuit of pleasure and experience.

And so, I have found somebody who will help. Fucked-up extremes, somebody for the good girl to please, to take me back to who I really am. A master.

Told you it was a little fucked up.

Reject

'Come round later.'
So I did not ask exactly when later, and so I did not go. This makes me happy. Second nights are not a good idea. I hope he doesn't try again.

What is a good idea, is running away to a distant city to see a guy. It has to be done. More on that later.

Academic update: When doing a course, don't leave all the reading for the week before your assignment deadlines. Damn, but these Open University courses are so boring. I think if I made the effort to get properly into the subjects then I'd enjoy it a lot more, but effort is the key problem with that plan. That, and my attention span re-shrinking to fifity seconds. Damn you, internets.

Er... I have no excuse

To have a boy in my room kissing my neck, while I choose my underwear for a date tonight, and talk sub to another guy over MSN. This be somewhat debauched. Is there a policy on turning up to see somebody with bitemarks already on your neck?

Boy

He said I'm amazing.

I'm seeing him again.

This isn't how things usually work out.