Journey Into Submission

a bdsm love journal

Category: short Page 1 of 22


“Have patience with everything that remains unsolved in your heart. Try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers. They cannot now be given to you because you could not live them. It is a question of experiencing everything. At present you need to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day.”

Rainier Maria Rilke

Blog Roll has pissed me off.

Not only did they go and add advertisements to every single link, they appear to have disappeared my log-in information so I can’t even update my links if I wanted to.

As soon as I have the time and the inclination I will do my own blogroll, by hand. It would help tremendously if those reader/writers who have blogs of their own could provide me with links… just leave a comment here and I will compile a list.

Greedy fuckers anyhow. What’s wrong with being free? It’s not like a site that is owned by tucows needs to make more money, anyway. If I want ads on my site, I will put them there. This is not a democracy… I own this little piece of the virtual world and, like I tell my kids all the time, I am the queen.

Ok. Rant over. Carry on.


I apologize to anyone that this inconveniences, but I have had to turn on comment moderation. I have been getting an obscene amount of comment spam and it is driving me crazy. I’m not sure exactly how it works, so feel free to comment away and we’ll all see what happens…


From my Starbucks cup this morning:

“Why are we inspired by another person’s courage? Maybe because it gives us the sweet and genuine surprise of discovering some trace, at least, of the same courage in ourselves.” (Laurence Shames)

I hardly ever go to Starbucks but this morning I was privileged enough to lend some of my courage to a friend in need and, in doing so, was allowed a rare glimpse into who I really am and how far I have come in the last three years. I was her a year ago and now I’m not. I’ve moved on and become the one modeling courage and compassion. Sometimes the most wonderful surprise is recognizing your own courage.


I don’t feel like writing. Maybe tomorrow. If I’m not busy with Michael.

I’m not sure if it’s the season, or the weekend I spent sick on the couch, or the diversion of my attention to reading and assignments from Michael, but I don’t have my usual insatiable urge to click and clack over this keyboard for hours or even minutes at a time.

The more I think about it, the more it seems that it is because we are approaching that dark time of year when the past catches up with me and life seems to move a little more slowly and painfully than it did a few months ago. I detest November.

At least I have in the past. This November holds the promise of a new beginning with Michael. I will hold out for that.

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