Wanting To Share

What the hell is this shit? Two posts in under a week? Holy hairy mother of fuck. What could be so important that I need to write again?

Well, to answer that question I need to refer back to the last post. Where I was complaining about that friend and his nature. It really wound me up yesterday, just thinking about the whole thing. I guess I’m anticipating a total meltdown on my part this coming Friday at the party. It’s not that I actually want to go postal, just sometimes a thought gets jammed in my head like a splinter and I just can’t shake it.

It went around and around in my mind, all the things that might happen that will piss me off, and that then started to piss me off to the point that I started to get one of my headaches. It got worse and worse and sent me into a bit of a bender. I got home and got into bed (at about 4:30 in the afternoon). I ended up tucking myself in and being asleep by 7pm. Waking up a few times during the evening and night and finding that my head was still pounding.

Before I actually went to sleep, I found myself doing something that I do whenever I get irate over things with someone – I cull them from my Facebook friends list. (This could, quite possibly, be the reason why my friends list is completely tiny compared to most people’s.)

I deleted the friend that was plaguing my mind, and also someone else added through this friend that I don’t really know anyway. I guess me reasoning behind it is that, sometimes, I want to be able to have a rant on my status field on Facebook. To say openly what is on my mind. It’s still quite a new thing for me to be able to be so open about my feelings and emotions, and I’m finding that FB is a really good outlet to let those people that care about me know that something is a little bit askew. It also serves to be invaluable as a tracking tool to see how my moods are going. The only problem with that, of course, being that if I am inhibited in what I can write due to the people that may see it, it means that my moods always look chipper and happy in hindsight. And that is a Bad Thing.

I know, from when I first met this friend, that he has major issues with (what he terms) “Swingers”. Now, I don’t see myself and fdoll as that at all – that’s a subculture of the kink scene, but swingers are usually in different events to the SM group. I must explain at this point that one of my fantasies, as I’ve brushed upon previously, is to share fdoll around with other men. To watch her get gangbanged perhaps, things like that. This friend, however, in talks we’ve had one-on-one has passed judgment upon “those kinds” of people. I’ve never openly admitted what I would like to do with fdoll to him, but it’s quite clear that he would have a freak out about it.

And that’s the issue, I think, that nags at me during the SM party when he’s there. I crave to drag fdoll up to one of the playrooms and share her around with strangers while I watch (and then fuck the living shit out of her afterwards), but there’s that horrible feeling that, at any second, he might walk in and either want to take part (I just couldn’t take that) or start into a lecture about why it shouldn’t be happening.

Ah well, my coffee appears to be empty, and my netbook battery is slowly dying. Best I walk home from the café , charge up and upload this to the blog.

Just one last thing: Someone in the Sydney, Australia gay/kink scene passed away last weekend and, although I didn’t personally know her, the news has personally touched those who knew her (fdoll being one, as well as some friends of ours). As far as I can tell, Mandy Rollins was much loved as a friend, DJ and all round party person. I can tell from the Facebook messages that she will be missed dearly by those around her. Mandy, may you find whatever peace you seek, wherever you are.

Kink parties without the kink

Fuck you! It’s been a while since I posted a blog update. So what? What are you gonna do about it???

Ok, perhaps I should explain that start. I was up last night, unable to get to sleep for quite some time while fdoll slept away next to me in bed. So, I thought, why don’t I do a blog update? So I tried and it was the biggest pile of typed shit I’ve ever spat out. Literally 5-6 full paragraphs on how I always seem to start a blog update with “sorry for the break in updates” or “it’s been a while”. I was trying to work out through all those paragraphs the reasons on why I have such breaks in communications from time to time (ok, most of the time) and I think I started to get to a point – much like now – in that sometimes time just disappears for me. Almost like I go into a stasus (to use a sci-fi term) for a week here and there. For example, last week, the whole seven days seemed to occur within a 2 or 3 day period for me. Great on those occasions when you are really getting pissed off with how the week is going but, unfortunately, I don’t seem to have full control over it like that.

The month since our regular fetish party has basically passed and it’s happening again this Friday night. I’m looking forward to it as I always do, but I think I do need to explain a slight uncertainness I have for these nights lately. We started taking along a friend of ours (originally just a friend of fdoll’s) who isn’t really into the whole fetish scene. He doesn’t really get a lot of sexual action (to put it bluntly) and taking him to these events was meant to loosen him up and get him into a scene where people are more open about, well, getting some play. The problem is, from how I see it, is that he doesn’t really get involved in the whole thing, and doesn’t seem to want to understand the organization of the scene. I’ve tried, on a few occasions over meals at his house (one-on-one) to explain the Doms and subs, slaves, kinksters and all the other things that people get up to there, but he just doesn’t seem to want to understand it. I still have to sometimes interject and apologise on his behalf when he tries to tell a sub guy that he shouldn’t be kneeling on the floor near his Domme.

Now, the other thing with this is that I’m not sure if it’s just me that has the problem. You see, due to my nature (and BP) I don’t really drink very much. Usually 2 is my maximum, sometimes I don’t drink for a few weeks at all. I also stay well clear of party drugs of any kind – I don’t think that playing around with my brain chemistry is perhaps the best idea. So, usually, I’m the only sober one there. Perhaps this is why I feel the anguish that sometimes hits me at the party. The other problem is that doing this takes away my desire to fuck – which is a BAD thing on all counts.

This is, of course, assuming that he goes this week. Last couple of times he has complained that he’s tired and ends up frustrating fdoll because she wants him to come along. Although, he usually manages to then go out the following night on a bender that was already planned with other friends of his.

Hmmm. Maybe I just get shitty when things don’t go to plan in general. But I really want to have this Friday night as a bender myself. Not in the sense of being drunk, because that’s not my style. I just want to fuck the daylights out of fdoll in front of people, maybe have her suck or fuck someone else for my entertainment.. Maybe watch her dom another girl. The problem is, none of those things can happen for me with this other friend around.

Fdoll will most probably read this and say that I shouldn’t worry so much, this friend has “done so many other things already” etc etc. But I guess this is just how I am. I want him to have a good time, and if that good time happens at the fetish party – great.. I just have issues with having to break his ass to make him go and then spend the evening as a chaperone for him in a fetish world – he has even said a few times that he expects me to keep him safe and in line. Not sure if it was a joke, it may have been, but it ends up being true when he gets totally hammered.

I feel the need to insert a question at this juncture. Something to re-assure me into understanding that I can still go to the party with him in tow and not have it affect me in any way. But I just don’t know what question will achieve that – whether it be an actual question or just rhetorical.

I think I’ll end with a statement more than anything else. If he pulls out this Friday, I’m going to try and make sure that fdoll doesn’t pressure him to go. He’s a big boy, and if he doesn’t want to go to a place where he can have fun, then I refuse to put a downer on the night (or subsequent fetish parties) from him being a big baby about it.

(no doubt that’ll get fdoll annoyed – certainly not my intention, but I just can’t have our fetish fuckathon parties messed up anymore. They are something I really look forward to, but the sheen has been taken off slightly due to dragging along someone who’s not a kinkster into a kinky world)

Ups and Downs..

The last couple of days, I've had to deal with both sides of my bipolar disorder in one of the most violent swings from good to bad.

On friday, I was craving mania. Like a drug addict chasing a high, I too miss the moments where the world seems more vibrant and colourful. The difference being in this case, a drug user needs to aquire a chemical to feel a high, I just need to stop taking the chemicals next to the bed morning and night.

The misty-eyed view I had that morning over breakfast with fdoll was one of the worst I've had. I say 'worst' simply because it made me almost seriously consider stopping the meds.

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The next day, on the way home from work, I had a crushing blow of a depression hit me. I felt an overwhelming pain inside. I felt that I was going to fail at everything forever in my life. I have a famously-short attention span when it comes to learning new things to gain a qualification (but am wickedly good as self-learning - shame those qualifications don't count for shit), so I felt that I was never going to succeed at a high-profile career.

I also know that the facts about bipolar sufferers don't really put the odds in my favour. Most people with BP will be chronically under-employed or simply unemployed completely. Simply put, we can't take the rigidity that working life has. We need days to be able to stay in bed, and days where we do 3 jobs at once.

If only it were that easy.

Its strange that I should have something that I can equally desire to unleash within me, yet also hate and wish it banished from my body and mind.

Fuck. Life bites sometimes.


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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Is sex becoming extinct?

There's so much to fill you guys in on with the break since my last post. Well, that could possibly be quite misleading - I always seem to forget what I've already told you all in previous posts and, I'm sure, have told you the same news multiple times in the past. I like to blame that on my issues with tracking time, but its not always the case. I think that, most of the time, I'm just forgetful.

I've just dropped fdoll off at work and have decided to treat myself to breakfast at a cafe near to home. I've chosen a different one to the usual cafe we frequent simply because I think that I want to relax this morning, and the other cafe always seems to be filled with unruly children and mothers who haven't the faintest idea of what their spawn are getting up to. Its usually loud and full, especially on the weekend. Also seems rather overpriced too. Shit, why do we go there at all? Haha.

The one I'm in now is nice and relaxed. There are mature conversations happening around me, and I can't hear a screaming child anywhere. Bliss.

On friday night, we went to our monthly SM party with a friend (and coworker of fdoll) and had a great night. Normally, I would have taken fdoll upstairs to a playroom (I think there was even a between-the-lines offer to be joined by our friend too), but nerves again got the better of me and I chickened out from public play. I really do need to get over this shit.

I think that the main reason that I'm still a little nervous in public is that I sometimes feel that I'm completely out of my depth around such developed practitioners of kink. Also, to me, sexual gratification is such a massive part of play that I feel different to most. I get told from time to time that not all SM play needs to end up in sex - but, for me, SM is the foreplay and should then turn into a good, rough fuck. Anything else is just tease.

Just to clarify, tease can be fun. In a playful kinda way. But, to me, too much teasing makes me start to just get grumpy.

Watching people play at the party sometimes makes me a little confused. For example, one girl was getting her ass spanked for a good 10-15mins. She was clearly enjoying it, and looked ready to get the living crap fucked out of her. She was giving the eye (during the spanking) to a number of guys (myself included) yet, at the end she just grinned and walked away without dragging one of the aformentioned guys with her. Maybe you guys can help me out with comments on this post? Do you find that you can just play in SM without sexual gratification during/afterwards? Either way (yes or no) what are your thoughts on it?

I've just thought of something else, is (perhaps) rough sex looked as a stepping stone for SM'ers to the caning and 'proper' SM world? I know of one Mistress that doesn't seem to ever have sex with the partners she plays with. Does that mean that she has attained a level of consciousness where she no longer requires a fucking? Or is it just that she's forgotten how good sex can be? What do you guys think?

Perhaps I don't play with fdoll in public that much because I somehow feel like I'm still a newbie in the scene because I still enjoy ramming my cock in her?

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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

I feel like Atlas, after the world is lifted off him.

It's been a rather good week this week. I went for an interview on monday for a casual job at a company that carries out advertising contracts. Basically, they send out motorcycle riders on Vespa scooters around the city. The Vespas all have trailers attached with mini billboards stood on them.

So, being a love of cars and motorbikes, I did well at the first interview on monday. Was asked back for an assesment ride on tuesday, and totally did awesomely again. And ended up having my first shift on the wednesday! :)

I spent 7hrs riding around Sydney's beaches, watching surfers and stopping to drink lattes and managed, in one day, to get paid more that I would get from my sickness benefit in two weeks. I've got lots more shift coming up too, so it's certainly going to be good for me. I get to work again and earn some money, yet I'm also away from an office, or call centre and actually ENJOYING a day's work.

Yesterday, I got my ass into gear and went into the city to confirm with the government office that my bankruptcy has gone through. I'd filed a while ago, and not heard anything. The girl in the office said all was good though, and they just had a backlog of applications.

Travelling home on the bus, I suddenly felt lighter. Like a massive weight has finally come off my back. I've had to deal with debt in general for so long that it was just slowly killing me, and to have the stress just taken away (albeit via filing for bankruptcy) is just magical for me right now.

This all got to the point where I was sat up in bed last night chatting with a slightly sleepy fdoll about how the last few days have changed my outlook on everything. I couldn't stop smiling - but, it was a different "can't stop smiling" than I'm used to. Usually, that is also matched with fast speech and ideas and plans all wrapped up into a solid manic episode coming on. But this was different. I was (and still am) just... happy.

I never actually knew what "just happy" every felt like until last night, I didn't know what I was missing.

Here's to life. And may all our days end as happy as mine did last night.

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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Choke on that, Bitch.

Something happened today. Something that hasn't happened properly for far too long.

My cock got hard with sufficiently good timing that it was also fdoll's day off from work. Oh Yes. Prepare for a good post...

We'd spent the morning being rather geeky, me playing PC games with her watching her new addiction (The Tudors - some TV show that seems to be softcore porn in period costume lol) and I was walking past her when the urge struck me to grab her head and ram her face into my crotch. It was just a bit of a giggle at first with a couple of dry humps thrown in, but the twitches happened.

Grabbing hold of her hair by the fist-full I dragged her into the bedroom and threw her on the bed. She knelt on the mattress as I stood next to the bed and I then forced her into position. Holding her under her chin with one hand and by the hair with the other I slid my cock down her throat. It's been a while since I have been hard enough to get right down there, so the feeling was more than welcome by me. Slapping and lightly punching her ass and hips with my left hand, holding her head steady with my right as I thrust into her. Feeling her throat convulsing around the head of my cock only got me harder.

Throwing her hard onto her side I got onto the bed and ripped down her pants, with her on her side and hugging her knees I rammed right into her cunt without any worry. Evidently the throatfucking turned her on just as much as me, judging by how wet she was. The first thrust was deep and I instantly felt her cervix she yelped out in pain, which only made me want to go harder and harder. Make her fucking suffer my pent up sexual frustration - she'll LOVE it all.

I held tight to her hip and thrusted and rammed into her tight body with her gasping for breath and letting out occasional screams of pain when I went in too deep. Well, too deep for her maybe. It was the perfect depth from my point of view.

It didn't take long before all this stimulation was becoming too much, rolling onto my side, my pace quickened and I was fucking the hell out of my girl, my slut, she began cumming with perfect timing and I just couldn't hold back. Letting go and feeling myself cum and cum inside of her as her cunt convulsed and milked my cock at the same time.

Now, if you will excuse me... I've got a slut to rape. Again.

Zombie Level Set To Zero

After an eventful and discussion-filled day yesterday, both fdoll and I came to the understanding that I would stop taking one of the two medications that I have been prescribed. The one I'm staying on is Sodium Valproate (a mood stabilizer) which has proved useful in reducing my manic episodes. But the one that I have now stopped is Zyprexa - mainly due to the results it is giving and also due to the doctor that prescribed it too me.

Now, as you know from previous posts, I'm not exactly a fan of my psychiatrist as he seems to be from the old school of treatment - dose seven shades of shit out of you until you either stop complaining, or turn into a walking zombie. Preferably both.

Well, I was verging on being a zombie - I couldn't get up before midday, spent the day practically motionless and without thoughts in my head. I had mentioned this to the doctor who took it as a sign of depression. He asked if I had had worse depression, "yes" I replied, "I've considered suicide on those occasions though". "Ah," says the doctor, "no need to worry then, you have pulled out of low periods before without intervention, no reason to change that now."

So what, I wonder, the fuck are the zombie-makers being prescribed to me for? In fact, they aren't even prescribed, he has a filing cabinet haphazardly filled with boxes of drugs. There is no order to the boxes, and each appointment results in me walking out with another box of medicinal goodness. He never asked how I was doing, he only ever asked how the medications are. Bells should have rang earlier in hindsight.

So, knowing that I was going to have a day of more normal thought patterns, I was in a frisky mood (despite being unable to get an erection - something plaguing me on the nasty pills) and gave fdoll a light spanking in the loungeroom, getting her to crawl into the bedroom where I spanked her cute, sexy ass red.. Applying a little lube I started to slip a finger inside her cunt.. Then another.. Another... Then I heard her say the words every man should hear at least once - I need your fist inside me..

Not in the mood for tease and withdrawl, I know that she needed this, so in my hand went. Urging back and forth.. Enjoying feeling her tight body wrap around my hand. I wanted so very much to fuck her there and then, to brutally force my cock into her. To cover her mouth with the hand that had just filled her cunt while she screamed in ecstacy. Perhaps another night function will return and she will get what has been a long time coming for her.

Dr Pointless and his Army Of Stupidity.

I just got back from seeing my psychiatrist and I'm feeling rather angry with the whole situation with him. He seems to only want to dose me up on medications and never really takes the time (apart from 3-4mins) during the appointment to actually ask how I'm doing.

He, quite clearly, has issue with fdoll's chosen career path. When I have pointed out that we have no money to survive on, he suggests things that are completely out of order. Last week he told me to tell her to "get a couple more clients". What the fuck? Am I meant to be her pimp now? And WHERE are these clients coming from exactly? If they don't go to the house o' pain, how the hell is she meant to relieve them of cash? This week he suggests that she give up her current job and go back to her old job to support me instead. Perhaps this guy is actually taking more of the meds than he is actually giving out.

He said that he wanted to "speak with" her today and asked that she come in for the next appointment. He then suggested another appointment for friday so that he can talk with her. Both fdoll and I are of the opinion that he is going to try to tell her that she isnt supporting me enough etc etc.

When I said that I am getting into depressions to the point of not leaving the house for, practically, days on end, he simply suggested that I admit myself into the mental ward at the nearest hospital. What the fuck?

Note to self: get a second opinion on this mother fucker.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles (and a flogger)

Just a shortish post for today while I sit up in bed with fdoll making me a cooked breakfast (I love breakfast in bed).

I've recently discovered that I am able to still claim UK citizenship, so there is a long term (3yrs) plan that I and fdoll now have to get over to live around the London area (most likely) so that I can indulge her wish of wanting to travel around europe - much easier when you can just drive or get a rail pass instead of spending thousands of AU$ on flights back and forth.

In all honesty, I'm really excited about the prospect of living back in England again. Just the little things get me smiling - my birthday back in summer instead of winter, and having christmas with snow are things that I've missed. Even the roads (and you guys know how much I love driving or riding a motorbike) are something that I've missed.

We won't be living near to my mother (obvious reasons are obvious) but I can see us visiting my sister and her family more than once.

I'm looking forward to all of this, even though it's years away. Damn time travelling slowly.

Why can't we just be able to have money and do it now?

Writer's Cock

I've got a bit of a problem - besides all the obvious things going on in my life, I am finding it hard to write my autobiography.

I've used a great program to 'mindmap' (it's free from here if you are interested), and managed to set out pretty much my whole life into sections and subsections. I've wrote about the very early times but for some reason I just can't seem to keep going past those first formative years of my life. I'm not certain if it's because the topics are quite hard for me to still deal with, or perhaps it's because I feel that I can't write about things in the autobiography format as easily as I find writing in blog format.

In fact, perhaps that's it. I feel that I am in a therapy session with a great listener when I am in blogging mode and feel that I don't get judged in whatever I say. Certainly I've managed to cross a lot of boundaries in this blog with my thoughts that I honestly don't think that I could have done in any verbal way previously. Even now, I still get shy talking about some aspects of sex with fdoll.

I was just about to start a chapter in my book about porn and my fucked up relationship with it. I opened up MS Word and saved the blank page as the title, but just couldn't manage to start writing. I want to write about how I had porn thrust upon me early on (both in magazine and video format before I was 10 years old) but I just couldn't manage to write. I just seem to clam up and can't do it.

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Changing the subject for the moment, my psychiatrist has changed the anti-psychotic medication that I'm taking due to it causing a significant lack of erections. Apparently the one I'm on now - even though it's a much bigger dosage - doesn't have those same side-effects. Today seemed to be a good sign as we had some good sex followed by a good throatfucking for fdoll in a second session an hour or so later (unheard of as of late).

fdoll has commented that she wants to have a threesome with a female friend of ours who we have played with before, and the idea has certainly bounced around my head more than once, knowing that fdoll is interested in it. Unfortunately, I've been so upset with not being able to get hard or be able to stay hard, I've not really been interested in the idea. No point in going to a concert if you are deaf, is there?

But now that things seem to be going a little bit better, I'm hoping that things will be working more regularly and I can really get back to writing some filth in this blog - even I am getting a bit "bleah" with the lack of sex in these pages.

Until next time ;)

Bzzzzbzzbzzzzzzzzbzzbzzzzzz

I've been thinking a lot lately about where I want my life to go. What career do I want? Do I want a career at all?

Could it be that far too many people put so much pressure on themselves to be successful at certain stages of their lives, that we all constantly feel like we are behind the 8 ball? People seem to strive around me to be individuals and to have the most material things in their lives, but are they actually successful? I'm not too sure.

Take fashion for example, we (mostly) all want to look good and dress in the way that we feel suits who we are as individuals. Yet "fashion" is something that, by definition, has so many people wearing the same things. Then you get the non-conformists who dress in similar ways to each other to show that they aren't conforming to the mainstream. Its all very confusing.

Moving that thought to the working environment, as I'm now 30, I should be moving up into a management role by now, with a new house, iPhone and a BMW. But I'm not. Far from it. I think that I've realised why I've been stressed for so long in the working field - I'm just not suited to it. Following all that office politics game is not something that I've ever been good at (and have actually lost friends in refusing to do so). I need to be more relaxed and creative in my life.

I've realised that I don't really need the stress of rush hours, business meetings and the formality of the office anymore. Sure, I might need to do it here and there to support what I do want to do, but its not something that I want to do as a full time thing.

Which brings me to my desired job path - tattooing. Yes, yes, it sounds like a totally left field idea to suddenly want to do, but I've had an interest in tattooing for quite some time and did buy a couple of machines over a year ago but self doubt got in my head and I put it on the back burner to attempt to play the office promotion minefield - and we know how badly that went.

Over the past two days (it hurt like fuck causing limited time per session) I completed the basic outline for a thigh tattoo on myself. Its a japanese style koi. Fdoll, I think, it quite impressed for the first actual tattoo. As am I. I finally did it. The skin is broken and I'm hooked.

I want to do more work on it to complete the overall design and increase my technique level. Some close friends have already pledged to let me tattoo them, so I'm hoping that I can start off small and get a portfolio to then get a job in a tattoo shop. The idea of a job that is creative without management stresses (tattoo artists are usually freelance and the shop kinda sub-contracts to them), really appeals to me.

Anyway, just wanted to let you guys know how I'm doing for the moment.

:)

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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Pension time soon.

I'm 30 years old tomorrow. But I certainly don't feel like I should be. I think that I went into some kind of time-freeze when I got married at 21 and now, having started living again, I feel like I should be able to carry on where I left off. Unfortunately, that's not the case. Father Time and Mother Nature certainly take care of that.

I took this picture just before I started writing this post to see what I thought of my eyes. Personally, I think that they look sad. But then again, I know all the things that they have seen - more than enough sadness and pain for a lifetime to be completely honest.

However, the flipside of my eyes is that so many people say that they are warm, and happy. I wonder at times if that's because I've just got good at hiding the bad times of my life. Then I start to think more about my life and I realise that, despite the harshness of the years, I do have things that bring a warmth to my soul. Fdoll is certainly first on that list. She is, without a single moment of hesitation or doubt, the best thing that has happened to me - I am thankful to have her every morning when I wake to find her next to me.

I am thankful for people that support me with all my most recent pressures. Friends are included in that, as are you guys. I check my blog stats regularly and seeing that so many of you are reading what I write gives me encouragement to keep going on this blog and that helps me. You are anonymous, yet I see your friendly faces giving me support, and I thank you all for that. I may not have massive amounts of comments, but that's ok :)

I'm told by many people that their 29th year of life was also hard for them to and it only gets better from 30 onwards, I hope that is the case because I really want to get back to writing short stories about fdoll (one I'm wrote before that you guys seemed to really enjoy), I want to get back to fucking the living crap out of her even more!

So, here's to life, love and kink.

I think I'm getting fat.

I spoke to my sister last weekend using Skype. It's been the first time in a few years that we have seen each other, after only really recently regaining contact over the phone or emails. It was good to talk to her and see her two kids all grown up. She asked how I was and all the usual stuff that you talk about over the phone, and then I dropped the bombshell - I'm more sick than I had let on with her, and I'm not able to work for a while.

She took it all very well and asked about what medications I'm on and how fdoll is helping and all those things, but then she did something I didn't quite expect. She told me that after her second child she became quite depressed and also started noticing that she, at times, felt high at times. She started describing all the symptoms of mild bipolar. She then said that my mother is taking mood stabilizers.

Fuck me.

So, I guess that I can easily take a stab in the dark and say that this may very well be a family heirloom that no-one quite wants.

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In other news, my sex drive that seems to have been away on holiday for far too long has started to make a sporadic comeback. Sex with fdoll has started to become more regular again and the look on her face when I pull back the bedsheets to show a semi-hard on always gets me even further in the mood.

We are going to our regular monthly fetish party this friday night, but this time is special - it's the only just before my 30th birthday. I'm honestly hoping that all goes well in the cock-department so that I can truely ream fdoll in front on some of our friends and then see who wants a go of both of us!

Overall though, I'm glad that (even partially) I'm back in a head space that allows me to smile sometimes. I've missed not being able to do that.

I hope that this picture is accurate.

I went to the government dept today with fdoll to sort out getting my payments and also a final assessment to see how long they dont want me in work for. I met with their psychologist who had looked over my case briefly and double checked a few things with me and said that I probably need to stay away from work until at least November.

Sounds great, and you'd think that I would be relieved to get that news. But, as it seems to be the case lately, for everything good, something bad always comes along to fill the void. They want to pay me less than $10 a day. That includes a "rent assist" program where they help me pay my half of the $450 a week rent that myself and fdoll have.

The worst part of all of this is that fdoll broke down in tears. I know just how hard the stress must be for her to cope with me in the position that we are in, and I really wish that I could just get rid of all the problems instantly so that she can smile. But, unfortunately, reality just isn't like that. I've never really understood why some people are blessed in this life, and others just get fucked. It's just simply not fair.

Seeing her in such a bad way made me pause and question whether or not I should just go back to work. I mean, I've been able to just hold it all in for this long - why not just toughen the fuck up and get back in there? But there's something nagging away in the back of my mind - I know that if I went back to work, my situation would get worse. I know that this pressure that we are currently under would pale in comparison to the depression that I would face if I went into the working world so soon. So I do need to take just a little more time off, at least in the short term.

I have, however, decided upon my project to do during this time off - I'm going to write an auto-biography. I think that it's about time that I face up to all my inner-demons and my past, my whole past, and write it all down. It could certainly help with dealing with the emotions and issues that are all built up inside me.

The other thing that is driving me insane today is a friend of ours is getting to the point where I feel a rage growing to stab him because he keeps calling and calling me, asking me to go over to his house to play computer games (he's 10 years older than me) when he knows that I have other things to do. He's called 11 times today alone. I've had to turn off my Blackberry just to get some alone time with my thoughts. Right now, I just need to have some silence with my emotions.. I need to be able to cry, to let out the depression - I've learned that keeping it bottled up just makes it worse.

It'll buff out.

I had a truly amazing night's sleep last night - and, I might add, some of today as well. The sleep-inducing anti-psychotics that the hospital gave me worked a treat. 15mins after taking one, I was out like a light.

10 or maybe 11 hours later I woke up again, feeling VERY groggy! I honestly can't remember easily the last time that I actually slept through an entire night without waking up. I even had an afternoon nap (not after taking any tablets mind you) so perhaps my body and mind are getting some rest from the near three decades of hyper-alertness.

I'm really looking forward to being able to conquer this beast as much as I can so, if for nothing else, I can return to caning and/or flogging fdoll on a nightly (hourly?) basis.

I'm going to also, hopefully, be taking these three months off to achieve two things. Firstly, I seriously need to get fitter. I'm not completely out of shape at the moment, but I'm certainly not in a cut physical condition like I used to be a few years back. So that will be getting some attention from me. If I'm successful and actually pull this off, I'll even put before and after shots on this site, so you guys get to see what I look like. I'm sure you all have ideas, maybe comment and say if this is something you'd like me to do?

Secondly, I'm hoping that I can find something (or start to find something) to enable me to work without being in a regular job. I don't need to be rich, but I do need to be able to be rich in life.

Anyway, fdoll is now sleeping next to me - her cute little breathing patterns are something I can watch for hours. But I really should be getting some sleep. Big day of nothing but self-indulgence ahead for me tomorrow. I better get used to it - it's going to be like this until at least August.

Just got back from the appointment

Well, just got back from the first appointment with the acute care team doctor who was a nice woman.

I'll be going into more appointments in the near future to sort out what medications I need to take. There may possibly be a short hospital stay in the future while they trial a few different things, but that's ok with me.

Meanwhile, they have provided me with a illness certificate for the next three months. So I will be at least away from the working world until August, which allows me some time to focus on me. And that's something I've never actually done - despite saying I will.

Many more updates to come regarding all the happenings with stabilising myself out, and hopefully - with 3 months of dedicated exercise - a more buff, sane me.

Here's to life. May I finally be successful in experiencing it.

The cusp of a breakdown..

Bit more a regular update from me - and, for a while at least, they'll be a lot more regular. After my anxiety breakdown on wednesday, I explained to fdoll just how I've actually been feeling lately; just how intense the depressions have been getting, and how often. How regular the suicidal thoughts are lately, and also I told her (as the first person I've ever told) about my constant fear and, I suppose, paranoia that someone (or a group) are occasionally following me to possibly even attack me.

I even feel kind of stupid writing that here. I mean, I'm not always thinking that, but occasionally I'll put in a bit of an anti-surveillance driving path if a car has been behind me for a few too many kilometres.

All of this has taken it's toll, so, fdoll took me, in tears, to see my GP doctor. He called the local hospital's acute care team who came out that afternoon to assess me. Mainly because of the suicidal thoughts I have.

It's now been suggested that I need some serious medical help. The two lovely people from the acute care team also agreed that I need to take some time away from work.

Which leads me to today - I had a blood test this morning to check my levels of the medications I'm currently taking to make sure that they are actually doing something for me. I'm also most likely going to have to take some form of anti-depressent to get me out of this slump. And also an anti-psychotic to control the paranoia and suicidal thoughts. All this will be discussed later this afternoon when I go to the hospital to see a psychiatrist attached to the acute care team.

The other thing we did today was to get forms from the department that deals with support for unemployed, old age pensions and (for me) disability payments. Quite simply, I'm unable to work for quite some time until I can get myself in a calmer and stable frame of mind.

Fdoll is sat with me at the moment, attempting to fill out the mass amount of forms required for these payments. I am even feeling my anxiety levels rise just seeing all the boxes. I'm focussing on writing here instead, but in the corner of my eye I can see the paper with all the questions. So many fucking questions. So many pages.

I don't know what I'd do without her. Scratch that - I know exactly what I'd do.

Mission Aborted: Return To Base.

Today has not been a very good day. It’s only 9am and I’ve already had a total meltdown. I arrived at that mailroom job that I was telling you guys about at 7:30 this morning, but I had been battling with a serious level of depression all morning. I made certain that I took my medications this morning, because I knew that it wasn’t going to be a fun day.

I awoke this morning with a level of dread more intense than before - I simply didn’t want to have to deal with members of the public today. Well, let me clarify that, I can be ok around people - the problems occur when I have to interact with any of them. I don’t mean that to sound as aloof as it does, it’s not that I see myself as superior in any way, I just feel that if I have to engage with anyone, it’s only a matter of time before they see my mask of normality is slipping and they see the wounded, depressed person that I really am.

So, there I was, in work and I was starting to feel the start of a major anxiety attack coming on. From what, I simply couldn’t say - I hadn’t, at that point, actually done anything apart from sort out newspapers into some plastic trays. I knew at that moment that I couldn’t stay today. I needed to escape. I called my manager (I am the only one in that time) and explained that I had a migraine - no need to explain that depression and anxiety are such a big part of my life - and she was more than willing to let me leave for the day.

I evacuated the building and, indeed, the suburb (about 10-15mins north of Sydney city by suburban train). And dived on the first train service south. At the station just north of the harbour I started to feel panicked again, and had to jump off the train. Overall, that wasn’t too much of a bad thing - it allowed me to have a 20min walk over the Sydney harbour bridge to clear my head somewhat.

After that, we get to where I am currently sat now - in a café in the financial district of the city. The kind of place where someone in a shirt with a Blackberry and a netbook computer (like me at the moment) fit in well. Hiding in plain sight. I look around at the men around me - most in expensive-looking suits and being followed by a herd of “yes men” nodding to their every utterance and I think to myself - am I made to fit into a working world?

For that matter, is anyone? I read this morning that the long hours that people are working are causing a great deal of health problems. And, do we really need to work that much? What do we get out of it? A Porsche perhaps? That’s over AU$300,000. that’s 6-7 years wages for some people. Do you really need a car that cost the same as an apartment? If yes - why?

Some people want to work hard to get higher in a corporation and have power and control. But then I realise something - they only have the power and control over those in the same company (or with links to that company). They have completely zero control over other strangers.

I am not completely certain why I went off on that tangent - but I’ll leave it in the post. Maybe I’ll come back to it later and it’ll make sense another day.

Fdoll is still at home sleeping. I let her sleep in this morning for a few reasons. Firstly, she’s on a late shift at work tonight (starting at 4pm). Secondly, she looked really cute. And lastly, because I just didn’t have the energy to hide how down I was feeling this morning. I know that may sound a little dishonest, but I just don’t want her to always see just how depressed I am some days. She hasw enough problems dealing with me most of the time anyway, and seeing me almost at the point of suicidal thoughts isn’t exactly a great thing to see in your partner before they head off to work and you wont see them for another 17-18 hours.

So, I’ve spent 30mins or so writing this post.. I’m just going to upload it and head home again to snuggle up to my girl. She really is a saint.

I can see Mel Gibson. And he looks PISSED.

I've been thinking a lot lately about my illness. Well, my disability (for that really is what it is). And I've come to the conclusion that I really need to take control of the situation. But working isn't helping matters at the moment. Even though I've managed to land myself a temp job in a mailroom (of all places) I just keep being hit with a dose of massive depression and suicidal thoughts practically every morning. Having to then commute and also deal with a work environment where I have no real choice but to interact with others constantly is wearing me down.

I try my best everyday, even religiously taking my 1000mg a day of sodium valproate and 3600mg per day of St Johns Wart (recommended by a few different people), but it's getting to be too common. The reason I have to work full-time at the moment is that I have a massive debt that I've somehow become responsible from when I left my ex. It's over $200 a week which goes to, well, nowhere. But it's the reason I have to work. Going off an average wage, that means two days a week is spent working to pay off a debt that I didn't actually accumulate. Frankly, that's fucked.

So, after some research and talking it all over with fdoll - I'm considering filing for bankruptcy. I know that there's a stigma attached to that, and it also means I can't apply for any credit for 7 years (in this country) but, when you think about it, I've got a fucking massive debt hanging over me for the next 5 years anyway. And during that time I couldn't afford any more credit/debt anyway. It would also mean that I could reduce the amount of time I need to work each week (perhaps even going onto a disability payment for a short space of time in order to get myself into a good treatment program and hopefully tame this beast that I have to live with.

I feel that my grip on fun is slipping. I so desperately want to cane and/or flog my little slut every night, but I find that I just don't have the energy to do anything really after dealing with a working day. The anxiety attacks are getting harder to control/hide from people, and I can almost see a manic or depressive breakdown on the horizon like Mad Max thundering towards me in that loud-ass car that he drives. I need to take control of my financial life, to then allow me to control my emotional life a bit more. Hopefully, that way, I can throw some road spikes in front of Mad Max and halt the enevitable from happening.

I'll let you guys know how I go with it all.

As always, even if I don't say it, thanks for reading and supporting me with all this.

The devil doesn't always wear Prada..

..sometimes she's an English ex-pat with wirey hair and a face that looks like she's been licking a cat's ass...

Wow, a lot has happened since my last post to you guys. The new job I was in turned into a complete nightmare, with the all-female team being all-bitches too. I was shunned from the team area to work in a non-related, menial job role that drove me insane.

My bipolar was disclosed to my she-devil manager by someone I confided in (my error, I need to trust no-one in the outside world). The result of that was a sudden complete downturn in the company's attitude towards me. They, obviously, avoided naming a mental disorder as the actual reason for wanting me gone, but they instead said that I wasn't performing well enough in the role that I was employed for (and still wasn't actually doing, as they had me located elsewhere).

I complained to HR who then joined forces with my manager and spent practically everyday giving me the shits. I was depressed every morning. I hated life and had no motivation. Again. Just like the last fucking job.

So, I chatted with fdoll and decided to control when I left the company, and on what grounds. I sent an email out and resigned on the spot.

Fuck em. They deserve to have nothing more in their lives than to endure the rotting stench of the arrogance they so willing bath in. (Wow, that was a harsh thing to spit out. Yet true all the same).

So, I'm kinda doing temp work here and there until I can figure out what I actually want to do with my life. Maybe a job that can give me some free time to study perhaps? I need to do something with my life to quench this constant need I have to make those around me, proud of the person that I am.



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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Let's Be Honest. I'm Not The Man I Was.

Its Saturday. Or is it Sunday? *checks* It's Sunday. And I feel terrible.

I've been thinking lately that nothing is as it seems in my world - I've been having many paranoid delusions, to the point where I don't know what's real and what isn't.

I feel on the verge of crying almost everyday. Some days lately seem to involve thoughts of suicide, that worthless, nagging at my mind that I really don't deserve to take up this space in the universe.

I try to talk to fdoll about it all - and she is truly being a gem to me - but I've got to the point where I think that all I'm actually managing to do is to put more stress on her when she already has to deal with the chaos of my mood swings. I mean, I wanted to learn how to build and fly a helicopter earlier this week.

The swings into mania and depression are becoming more wild and rapid - and it really is wearing me down.

Looking back at my blog, I've realised that my posts are no longer about the things that fdoll and I get up to together, but instead, are filled with my thoughts of death and depression. Let's face it, that's not really fun for anyone to read.

Whenever I write here though, I feel that I am able to get out some of the emotions that I find too hard to verbalise. It becomes a way for me to start myself crying and then I can let it all out.. Become that wreck I need to be for a while. Sat in the corner, don't mind me, I wont be long.

But, of course, this is meant to be a happy blog, one that (no doubt) has previously got you excited to load into your browser and peruse. But lately, all it has become is an empty shell - much like it's owner.

I fear that I am no longer the fun blogger that you guys started to come to here to read about - I'm just a guy with a serious mental illness that happens to like SM. And that, I'm sure, isn't something any of you want to know about.

So, I've realised that I need to take these mentally disabled ranting elsewhere - somewhere more appropriate.

I did enjoy sharing the fun parts of my life with you all, I really did.. But right now, my life and sanity are at stake. And - I'm told - they are priceless.

Anti-zzzzzzz

Insomnia strikes again. Its becoming a terrible thing to have to deal with - the want to go to sleep, the desire to slumber. But, the complete inability to switch off your mind.

Fdoll sleeps soundly next to me and I almost feel a pang of jealousy that she is, right now, in another world. Dreaming, no doubt, of us buying a puppy.

I wish I could sleep.

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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Small update...

Just thought I'd let you guys know, I've just get home from the doctor's appointment, and I'm now back on the meds..

Here's hoping normality is nearby..

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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Things improved, and then took another nosedive.

This got better for a few days after my last post, I was feeling good and thought the worst was over. But, after a night of insomnia (seemingly a sign that something with my moods is going to occur) the other night, I'm now in a world or paranoid thoughts and a depression ticking away in the background.

Frankly, I need help.

An appointment has been made for tomorrow, after I finish work, with my local family health doctor. I'm aiming for them to then refer me to a local psychiatrist. Clearly I need to get back on medications, but that's not something I can self-prescribe.

Perhaps I may need to take anti-d's as well, but I already know I can't take SSID types after being hospitalised last time for a severe reaction to them.

If anyone has had good stories of taking anti-depressants that AREN'T SSID type, could you email me? I'm looking for facts on how they work for you..

erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Thanks guys..



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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

$$$

Money.

Its said that it makes the world go around, although I'm sure physics professors would have something to say against that.

It does, however, make my world spin at the moment. And not in a good way.

I've got so many outgoings that my salary is practically 3/4 gone before the end of the first week of the pay month. And I have fuck all to show for it. The biggest killer of my funds has to be paying off a debt ran up by my ex. And this is meant to happen for another 4-4.5 years. Its just horrendous.

I think that money is causing most of my concerns lately. I have so many productive plans for my dollars - I'm proficient at stocktrading, for example - but I can never get enough capital to start investing. So that potential just sits there in front of me, mocking me. Watching that possible home-business sit there doing nothing is like watching a Miss Universe start abusing meth and getting a breast reduction. Its just torturous.

Doll has the occasional slow week due to the nature of her work, but her not having cash occasionally probably doesn't have the impact on me that she thinks it does. I mean, I'm not upset that she's a bit low on funds every so often, but I do get upset that I can't just throw some cash her way and replenish her cashflow.

I woke up feeling ok this morning, but thoughts with dollar signs in front of them started filling my head during the commute to work - and its taken my mood down again.

I started my usual stupid bipolar thought pattern - I could rob someone, I could win the lotto etc etc. Then I thought, I could jump off a building. But that's useless. None of those things are the answer to my problems.

The answer to my problem is to tighten up my proverbial belt, lessen outgoings. And after all that, start making a dent on saving up a starter amount of cash to trade with and invest.

I'm 30 in a matter of a few months - time to get my fucking life together.


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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

A maze of dark tunnels.

Half an hour before work starts, and I'm sat in my car. The doors locked, keeping the world at bay. I can be myself here for another few moments before I have to put on my mask and face everything.

But I've noticed that my mask is wearing thin. The strap that holds it on is starting to sag. I think its overuse that's done it.

My skin is pale, dry and loose. My eyelids droopy from exhaustion of keeping going - trudging along metre after metre. I feel it grating away at me. The constant battle of existence.

But I know, around one of these damp, dark corners, there's a light at the end of the tunnel. There's always light. And I just keep needing to keep upright, and keep walking towards the light (when I see it).

I can't just give up and stay sat in the darkness for eternity.

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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

The topic that shall not be spoken about.

Suicide.

Its a taboo subject for most, but an everyday struggle for far too many.

As an act, it's illegal (even though you can't obviously punish the person after the fact).

Life insurances usually have a clause meaning they don't need to pay if the insured person takes their own life. A sort of final insult to the person's remaining family/friends.

It's a sin in most (if not all - I've not researched) religions. And you are off to Hell if you feel that you can't go on in this world (what a great choice that is for the depressed Christian).

Its one of the biggest causes of death in the world. In fact, worldwide, its the leading cause of death for people under 35.

Just pause for a moment and consider that. Its a shocking statistic.

It's estimated that there are between 10 million and 20 million non-fatal suicide attempts every year, but that's a complete guess. No-one could ever be certain because of the stigma attached to it is stopping sufferers from coming forward to talk about it.

Most people who have never had the thought cross their minds assume suicide attempts are just a "cry for help". And, to a certain point, I guess they are. But, unfortunately, sometimes its simply giving in to constant feeling of worthlessness that grates at your senses for days on end during a depression.

I've considered it. A number of times actually. The thought usually bounces around my head at least once a week, sometimes even when I'm happy with life. Its a demon I've lived with for as long as I can remember.

I recall, as a kid (about 10years old, and I think younger too), I used to enjoy holding my breath underwater. A number of times I considered just staying there until I passed out and then drowning. I tried strangling myself with the curtain tiebacks when I got home from school one day (I remember that one clearly). Let's just say I'm shit at suicide plans!

Why am I writing this? Well, I'm thinking that turning my view on the feeling of wanting to die can provide me a clinical viewpoint. Normally, I can pigeonhole something when I'm in a clinical mind and get it out of my system, and that has already seemed to work here today.

*****************
If you, or someone you know is considering suicide, please seek assistance immediately. Take yourself, or your loved one, to the nearest hospital and advise them of the situation. They have protocols in place for such a situation.
*****************

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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

No energy to think of a title.

Apologies for the huge delay since I last updated, I forgot my own blog address. Not from a lack of interest, more from just having a disfunctional brain I think!

Its been quite a few weeks since I told you guys how I'm going, I think the last post was before we went camping. And that was ages ago.

I've been on a slow decline, now that I think about it, for a few weeks. Just a slippery slope that was hardly noticed by myself, never mind those around me. But, on reflection, I thinks its been there. Slowly taking me down a slippery path that only becomes obvious after I'd passed the point of no return.

Leaving me here now, realising that I've been in a real depression for a few days. Driving to work this morning, I cried for about 20 minutes as I drove through the city. I really hate days like these - the ones where people expect me to be my usual smiling self, yet inside I want to retreat from everything - work, bills, friends. Everything apart from doll.

She really is the only one that seems to get me lately. Sure, people give me their thoughts and words of encouragement (and they are all appreciated), but its only doll that sees the pain in my eyes when faced with living through a day that everyone else takes for granted.

When I get really depressed, as I am today, I feel like I'm going to throw up. Its like the world around me is moving at a pace that I just can't keep up with, and it makes me feel physically sick.

I don't feel hungry, and want to sleep for days on end.

I did, however, purchase a set of weights a week ago or so, and I'm doing my best to keep at them on a daily basis - its just hard to motivate yourself when you are suprised that you even made it through a day, come the evening.

Doll is being awesome though, she's giving me the headspace I need to recover from this, but I think I need to hit rock bottom tonight. I've been holding back because whenever that happens, I usually end up exhausted for days. But, I don't think I can avoid it anymore, I have to do it before the suicide thoughts mount up too high.

Talk soon.

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emails are welcome:
erratic.seasons@gmail.com

Pocket Rockets...

Its a sunny day where I am, and life feels good.. My old job let me leave early without penalty, so I've got a week to do whatever I feel like.

Pretty much, that's gonna be nothing.

But I do have to write about the other night that I and fuckdoll had. Firstly, we both enjoy playing poker - mainly texas hold'em online (I'm beginning to wipe the floor with the other users on Facebook's Zynga poker - who knows, we may have played a hand together!). Sometimes, we play 5 card draw poker at a friend's place.. Its a small $20 buy in and maximum $2 bets, nothing major.

The only thing that can sometimes annoy the crap out of me when playing online facebook poker is that, because its not real money, you can get idiots on there that just go "all in" for every hand. That kind of play is just irritating.

That's the good thing about playing for money with friends - people respect the bets, and bluffs work.

Until the other night.

Two of the usual guys brought their other halfs with them, and the only other time that we've played with newbies resulted in me losing all smiles as well as my $20 buy in. But, we agreed.

Not only did the girls (not fuckdoll, she's one of the guys for such an event) not pay for their own buy ins, but they were constantly showing their hands to the people that had folded next to them and getting constant help. One of them consistantly got good hands too. Which is cool. But I figured I'd break her flow a little with a bluff hand, constantly raising.. Of course, the chips didn't represent her money, and the action of a bluff meant nothing to her and she just kept upping it. I had an OK hand, so I went for it, again, she took me, but only with a slightly better two pair.

Then she played a bit dumb and gloated a tiny but. That was the end of smiles from me.

Fuckdoll wasn't happy, I tried my hardest to explain that to lose at, say, Blackjack is fine. Because its a set of rules. To lose at poker partly from hands and partly from bluffs is also fine, because the other players understand what the sudden raise could mean (it could be an awesome hand, or a total fake. But to lose to someone without that other person understanding anything that just happened drives me insane.

I just have a bit of an anger issue really, I did control it to the point of not shouting at them or saying something I'd regret, but, I have decided never to play with new-starters again. Its just too much stress - and I need to lower my stress levels so I don't explode...

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I can't even spell zzzzz... Never mind say it.

I lie in bed. Awake. Its seven am, and my eyes have been open for 4 hours already.

Fucking brain, waking up packed full of alpha waves.

Thoughts fly into my head and out the other side. Some with intense processing, others without so much as a cursory glance.

I feel today is a day where I may only be physically part of the world of the living. I function. I operate. I engage in conversation.

But I am not here.

I'm not anywhere.

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Ladies, Gentlemen, Kinksters around the world...

I. Have. A. New. Job.

Oh, fuck, yessssssss...

I start in a couple of weeks, with better conditions, a better firm, office hours and nearer to home. And I now get weekends to myself..

I

Love

Life

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Empty wallets, fast cars, holidays to Europe and wanting more time in a day.

Just a little update on how things are going so far:

A few things have happened since my last update. First up, I've started applying for some jobs to progress my current position away from the company in which I work. Things are going well there, I've had a couple of interviews for one job, and another is showing interest in me going to them. That one pays AU$5k more a year than the first one, and the work seems more interesting to me, hopefully I'll be able to succeed and get that job. It'd certainly help with paying off loans and having money left over to, you know, survive with afterwards!

In other news, I'm going to be selling my motorbike in the next couple of days. I bought a targa-top red sports car a few days back, as shopping with the bike was proving to be rather difficult. Also, we where having to take cabs to regular fetish parties we attend, meaning more expenditure on something avoidable. As well as that, I now down get shit-wet through when it rains and don't arrive at places with helmet hair. Win!

Fuckdoll is certainly enjoying the car and, secretly, I know that she prefers it over the bike (which she also enjoyed).

Meanwhile, I've been lolling around (like today) with no money as my cashflow has a nice big blockage in it - this should be rectified once the bike is sold, but it kills me to not have cash for simple things.

It reminds me of being younger, when I didn't have any money of my own.

I really just want to get on top of things again, and have some surplus cash left over so that I can get back into stock and fund investments. I really want to provide more for fuckdoll so she doesn't have to push herself at work when she doesn't feel like it.

I guess its a throwback to my knowledge of her previous partner (who, strangely, had the exact same name as myself). He worked in a high-paying job and had the nice apartment and car and disposable income so she didn't need to work (from what I've worked out). And, as much as it shouldn't, I feel a little inferior at times to that.

I know I really shouldn't - as she's pointed out to me, if she just wanted money, she'd still be with him. Which is a good point, I know. But I still have a slight inferiority complex on occasion, about a number of things (all stemming back, in a Freudian way, to my childhood).

It happenned again yesterday. We were heading home in the car. Roof off, music playing. And a guy I recognise from nearby to where we live was infront of us in his bright yellow convertable lamborghini. I know that he's overweight. I know that he wears a hat to cover his bald head. And I know that he's in the last throws of a midlife crisis. But yet I still feel inferior because he has more money than I do.

Which is something, I think, stems to men's magazines. I don't mean porn mags, I mean Men's Health and the like. There was one issue, I recall, that suggested some clothes to wear to the gym, then to the office and then to drinks afterwards. Now, the things they listed added up to over $5000. For one fucking day. I mean, fuck, are they serious?!

But I know men DO have that level of disposable income. And it makes me cringe. I wish I had the money to afford it (not that I would be that stupid to buy in that manner), but I would like to be able to do it if I so wished. I wish I could afford flights back to England for myself and fuckdoll for a holiday.

Ultimately, I wish I could be self employed, trading stocks (that I know all too well) and working from home.

But the reason for all that isn't just because I want a lot of money. I just wish I could spend more time with my partner for life.

I love you baby.


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A small rant about politics, laws and whacking off on the internet.

I sit on the sofa hearing the footsteps of my neighbours that share the apartment block with me outside, going about their business. There are only six apartments in the building and yet I don't really know a thing about them. I park my motorcycle next to a red Mazda practically everyday, yet I've never seen who the person is that drives it. Which means, by definition, that they have most likely never seen me arrive or pull away of a vehicle that has, for a number of months, defined me to other road users.

We all work within companies, whether we are employed there or are owners of them ourselves. Yet we all love and hate customers. Those customers that are, again by definition, ourselves. We are a customer more times in our existence than we are behind the counter. Yet we still become intolerant to their needs. Well, I've been known to anyway.

I manage, just like the rest of society, to demand freedom in my life. But I still panic and check my speed when there's a police car nearby. I see myself as a liberal-thinker in everything, and want people to do as they wish as long as they don't break the law. But I know that me saying that is totally fruitless.

I have spent the last few hours since dropping fuckdoll off at work, expanding my mind. Not through chemicals or such. But through documentaries and comedians that push boundaries. I like to do this from time to time to make me remember that I am alive. That I am not a sheep or worker ant to be dictated to by the mainstream, by the self-righteous or by the "norms" of society.

Yet, it seems that I am not as in control as I perceived.

We can all, as members of the world society, condem governments that controls its people through government-controlled news and restricted access to the internet (for example). But I think the only thing that the government is guilty of (in the eyes of it's peers) is bad PR.

The Australian government has recently, and quietly I might add, passed a law to restrict it's people's access to websites that it deems "unsuitable for classification". The standard list includes child pornography (of which, I am so overtly against in any form - the people who do such things should be drawn and quartered), and drug use (amongst other things that people wouldn't look for and then suddenly be offended by what they find).

Now, I'm not usually a political person in such an open forum, but I truly believe that I don't need to be saved by a bunch of limp-wristed pricks in government. This is also the same country that declared the small area that the government meet in as a different state to the rest of the country. And then they allow things in that area for the politicians that aren't allowed elsewhere (certain levels of pornography, fireworks etc). So, the politicians are allowed to see magazine racks full of articles about wearing rubber stockings while being flogged but I can't view information on the price of dope in another country? Or potentially be unable to watch something on an SM site?

Why?

Is it because, perhaps, they are so hell-bent in their own religious faith that they think that they are going to go to hell because they fucked their secretary up the ass over the office desk? Or maybe they feel bad that they don't have the spine to crack down upon all the priests and vicars that abuse alterboys right after holding the sunday mass that the politician attends with their families? Maybe if they save 20 million, hard-working, free-thinking Australians from having the chance to masturbate over a consenting adult engaging in a sexual act with another consenting adult then they will have their chance at the pearly gates?

Which brings me to stupid laws surrounding BDSM in this country. Who here thinks that SM is perfectly acceptable between adults that enjoy it? Come on, raise your free hands!

The courts in this country actually say it's not. They say that sex needs to be between CONSENTING and SANE adults. Yet they also say that no sane person can consent to an act that will cause them discomfort or pain. Yep, that's right.. If you are an Australian masochist, your government has declared that you are insane.

Wow.

A rather sweeping declaration from a group of people that, by their very nature also indulge in a bit of slap and tickle and lewd behaviour at the best of times.

Now, if you will excuse me, I have to climb off my soap box and do what nature wanted me to do with my life - whatever I fucking want (as long as I don't break any laws).

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Happy New Year, ya dirty buggers!

Just wanted to say a very happy new year to all my readers and all the best for 2010 (I won't wish a year of complete blissful happiness, because with sad times, the happy times aren't as fulfilling).

My write up of the NYE fetish party we attended will follow shortly, once my hangover goes away!

Much love,

Me and fuckdoll x

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