I feel brittle.
I don’t know why exactly. Well I guess I know why, I just don’t want to say so.
Not just brittle, but spiky. Edgy. Fragile. Irritated and impatient.
I’m busy being busy. Doing all the things, and doing nothing, making noise for myself, distracting myself from whatever is going on.
It works for the most part.
But I am caught in a quiet moment right now. Can’t concentrate enough to talk myself out of the quiet.
I will, though. In a moment. I can’t rest here, if I stop I am vaguely worried that I won’t ever move again.
Outwardly I am clear and focussed, normal, I’m fine.
How are you?
It’s true, or close, or will be soon. Hard to say.
Too busy and not busy enough, frustrated with it.
I’d write angsty emotive poetry if I was good at it.
I’m not though.
Told a potential sub they weren’t a good match for me when they called my honesty ‘passive aggressive’. An immediate peak of annoyance, an ‘oh FFS’, a ‘bye now and good luck to you’. Polite and dismissive. Waiting for the blowback ‘stupid bitch’ ‘fuck you’ whatever. Bring it.
Told a young Domme with a douchebag sub to take a good long look at the things she is saying about him, about them. She knows she has to dump his sorry arse, but she is invested now, basic truths make her cry, it hurts my heart.
Exhausted by the effort in it. All of it.
I am not fit for people right now. Scowling at them before they’ve even said a word to me and covering the frown with tissue paper upon which I paint a face that isn’t mine. A transparent picture of a smiley face behind which I narrow my eyes and bare my teeth.
No I don’t want to talk about it.
Come and expect nothing of me. Let me be the one to suck the energy from your very bones until you are dry and brittle and light as a feather. Until there is nothing left.
I will wave as you float away, not even mouthing a ‘thank you’, dispassionately watch you disappear into the sky as if you never existed at all.
A wisp, an idea, something that was never real.
I hesitate, always, to post such things. Too personal, too dull, too… everything.
But it’s this or nothing.
And I swear if anyone pop-psychologises at me (is SO a word!), or tells me what I ‘should’ do, or makes ‘helpful’ suggestions in the comments, I will rage-delete them with hard stabby fingers. Just… no.
I’m wallowing for a bit before I dust myself off and carry on. Just for a bit.