So I love this movie and this scene captures at least part of the title of this post. Every day we wake there is the distinct possibility that things could go horribly horribly awry. Be it with work, life, love, the sheer act of existence means there’s a risk of shit hitting the proverbial fan. My love life, both before and after D/s, has never been smooth and I tend to fall for the boys that excite me but ultimately aren’t my best options. Something about them registers in some central fucked up location in my brain and I start to crave them like you would a freshly baked cookie 10 minutes after you decide you are trying to eat better. Eventually it fades and my senses return to normal but life is a little bit duller each time.
I don’t always react well to romantic gestures. Not because there’s anything wrong with them but because it’s not my “love language.” I seriously hate that term but in this case it’s true. Big grand sweeping gestures are like libido suppressant for me. Want to inflame my heart, brain and loins equally? Remember something minor that I mentioned in passing that means the world to me. Exhibit A: Roaming Solider dug up my favorite old cartoon cause I said I hadn’t seen it in forever (I Love to Singa). Exhibit B: Good Nhyte found the right version of Hallelujah by John Cale from Shrek. The soundtrack version was horrible.
As my submission has continued to evolve I think I’m even more confusing than I used to be. There’s a fair amount of little girl in me that loves hugs and cuddles and being cared for and supported. But there’s a growing if not equal amount of me that is base, visceral, lust filled slut that craves being debased and broken and humiliated and hurt and used and abused and put away damp. I used to try stash that side because it confuses men more than I normally do. I’m too sweet and nice and funny and smart to be left quivering in the center of a destroyed bed. But that’s just it I’m not, at least not some of the time. I can’t fully articulate my dark side all of the time but I know it’s been much darker than some of the people I’ve come into contact with.
That is not to say that I can’t be a good little girl. I have been before and can be again but if I’m honest that other part of me is always lurking there. It could be the frustration or disappointment I have about a variety of life situations I was never in control of. It could be my jealousy of women who get to unleash their submission freely with the person that has claimed them daily. Women who don’t juggle 30K things each day with no relief from that stress at the end of the day. Truth be told I feel hungry for pain most days. I can handle the other things. I have to or else my world crumbles but the thought going to sleep with soon to be hidden bruises and soreness makes me smile. Smile really big if I’m honest.
To use another old favorite tv/movie clip I know I’m still cookie dough and I’m not done baking (See old Buffy episodes, conversation with Angel when he came back for her). It would be potentially unpleasant to eat me right now. But as soon as I’m remotely set I’d love to be smacked with a spatula. Yes my brain has gone all twisted again. I will leave you with a song from my separated at birth twin from a past life who actually got all the singing talent.