I hesitate to post this, for fear it might do more harm than good at this point, but I certainly don't mean it in a bad way. I'm hoping to help, rather than hurt. *Crosses fingers and hopes that's what I manage to do*
This post actually concerns two things, but I sorta think they tie in together. At least they do in my own mind. Who knows if it'll make sense to anyone else?
Ok, the first part concerns something J. said the other day. She told me that she can't understand how two people can be as drawn to one another as B. and I are without wanting the type of relationship that he and she have. I understood implicitly why I didn't want that type of relationship, but I wasn't entirely sure how to make it make sense.
I was talking about this to my roommate, and she kinda pointed out something that made it click a little better in my head. She said, "For J., marriage equals security. For you, it doesn't."
Wow. Duh. I'm an idiot. Why didn't I think of that on my own? *Facepalm*
I can completely grasp why someone else might believe that marriage equals security. It just...doesn't in my mind. I've always felt that too many people I know jumped into getting married or whatever because they thought it was a good idea at the time. You know, you graduate college (or high school, depending) and get a job. What do you do next? Oh, yeah. Get married.
In my opinion, for most people, marriage is something that's done for stupid reasons. Men and women are equally guilty of this, by the way. I'm not blaming either sex for that.
Obviously, it's fairly easy to get divorced. But even if people stay married, it doesn't mean anything. My mother and father have been making one another miserable for the last 36? 37? 38? (I forget exactly) years. Staying together only means you have more endurance than most people.
Until I was in college, I never really saw examples of happy marriages. People in my family don't get divorced. They stay together and drive each other batshit. My uncle supposedly beats and rapes my aunt, but she stays with him because "it would be embarrassing" to leave and "have people know." (I say supposedly because my family loves drama, and who knows if it really happens or not? If it does, my cousin is a piece of shit for not shooting his father on behalf of his mother, but then who am I to comment? My roommates and I saw a bunch of "Stop Domestic Violence" posters around campus and decided we needed shirts that said, "Stop Domestic Violence: Hit A Bitch Back!" So maybe I'm not the best person to pass judgment here.)
Anyway, I digress again.
So, to recap, to me, marriage does not equal security, even if the couple remains together because it's entirely possible to live with someone for a zillion years and completely Hate. Their. Fucking. Guts.
And that's why I don't give three shits about ever getting married. Unless he's really rich and about to die and leave me everything. That's completely different.
Mind you, I don't think people who see it differently than I do are wrong. It's just a difference in opinion, and I'm pretty used to marching to the beat of my own drummer in most facets of life, anyhow.
But in spite of the fact that I've laughed in the face of every dude who ever told me he was going to marry me (how's that working out for you, buddy?), I do want security in this relationship. I think everyone wants that when they truly love someone; it just takes different forms for different people.
Which brings me to part two of this blog.
Lemme go ahead and throw out the obvious here. Slavery is illegal in this country and all other First World countries. Also, I don't really qualify as a slave (too bitchy and stubborn), so it's a moot point.
However, as I said in my previous blog, I do believe that there are people in this world who perform best as the property of someone else. And since it's not exactly like I can be snatched up by the first idiot who comes along and collared and branded a la the Gor books (thank God 'cause that's lame as shit), it requires a bit more creativity. In my case, I fully believe that my emotional inability to walk away from this man for any length of time does constitute a sort of intangible ownership of me.
Blech. It makes sense in my own head, but none whatsoever once I type it out.
I think all relationships have some expectation of evolution by the participants. Hence the reason bitches get all pissed when their relationships with drunken frat boys aren't "going anywhere."
Again, I think this goes back to my previous blog. I won't be happy with being able to be a house pet a couple of days once a month my whole life. Right now, that's what I'm stuck doing, but it's not what I want forever.
Ultimately, what I want is twofold. Number one, I want to be close enough that anytime I need to see them, I can just pop over there and do it. Number two, I want them to take more control over my life. In the ways that they want, of course. If you've got a slave/pet/little girl type thing, you might as well use it, right? Plus, I think it gives me a sense of security in that if they don't like something I'm doing, they can change it, rather than try to live with it and eventually pitch me out on my ass if it drives them nuts long enough.
Beyond that, I have no idea. I also don't know if this blog has helped or hurt, but I hope it's the former. I was sort of on a roll, and then I got distracted and lost my train of thought. So I'm going to stop now before I make a bigger mess of this post. I'll be glad to clarify if necessary, though.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Word Vomit
I've been thinking about this one for quite some time, but I wasn't entirely sure how to put it into words. Ok, so I'm *still* not exactly sure how to put it into words, but whatever. I'm going to try, anyway, and will come back and clarify later, if necessary.
I know this is a fairly controversial point of view, but since when has that really bothered me?
I believe that there are certain people--and, yes, they are most likely few and far between--whose place in the world is in the ownership of another. Yeah, I believe slavery has valid applications, and not just "ooh, fun sex slavery," either.
I don't think the need to be owned has anything to do with age, sex, race, religion, financial status (or lack thereof), or anything else. I just think that there are certain people in the world who function at their best only when they are under control of another, kinky sex or no.
I'd never advocate for slavery as an institution, simply because slavery as an institution is too rife with corruption and exploitation to be valid. However, on the other hand, I think the lack of that sort of outlet to the people who most need it is less than healthy as well.
As you may have guessed from this little monologue, I am one of these people. If reincarnation is something that actually happens, I was almost surely a house slave in ancient Rome.
Sure, it's easy for people who don't get it (and that'd be most of the people on the face of the planet) to say there's something wrong with this particular mindset. You can say I'm a doormat. You can say that if I'd set boundaries, people wouldn't take advantage of me. You can say that it stems from a lack of self-esteem or whatever mental illness happens to be de rigeur at the moment. You can say that I need to learn a more adult way of dealing with the world, that I need to grow up and take responsibility, blah, blah, blah. You wouldn't be saying anything I've never said to myself.
You can argue that I'm this way because my mother hardly ever let me out of her sight until I was 17 or so. You would quite possibly be right.
However, what's really more humane? Forcing someone like me into years of therapy, hell-bent on changing his/her natural predilections, and making him/her believe that there's something inherently wrong with him/her, and ultimately failing and making everyone involved miserable, or allowing that person to embrace what he/she is in a non-exploitative manner?
I've trained horses for years. Not green-breaking them, but refining them. And I can tell you right now, it's a hell of a lot easier to work with what you've got than it is to try to make a Clydesdale into a racehorse. You end up with a lot happier horse in the end, too.
So if people can agree that it's kinder to let a horse be what it is, then why's that not true for humans?
I have a degree in psychology, and I can tell you unequivocally that psychology, as a profession, and pop psychology, as a pastime for armchair therapists, has failed humanity miserably. Miserably. Read Martin Seligman if you need criticism of the discipline from someone who's a lot smarter than I am.
But I digress.
Anyway, if you're not convinced, then go ahead and stop reading because nothing I'll say from this point on will change your mind.
...
Ok. You're still with me.
I think that there are hallmarks of someone like me, someone for whom being property is a viable option--and, yes, there have been psychological studies done which demonstrate that for most people, the loss of freedom is devastating, but for a few oddities, it's not. Let's look at me, for example, because I'm an unrelenting narcissist, and this blog is about me, after all.
Yes, I was extremely sheltered for most of my life. I'm also not a dumbass. I'm capable of taking care of myself, in a perfunctory sort of way. I can take care of the basics, but as for the rest, I don't really give a shit. I don't really lack ambition. I can do whatever needs doing, but I'm not very good at knowing what needs doing. I lack direction on my own.
I'm also incredibly self-destructive if there's not someone around to stop me. I won't go into this in any sort of depth, but imagine every self-destructive behavior known to man except drugs, and you pretty much have the portrait of me.
Then, there's the compelling evidence that I simply perform better when I'm told to do something than when I have to figure it out myself. On my own, I waffle and waver and never really get anywhere. Call it Hamlet Syndrome. I have no impulse control, and I basically just do whatever the fuck strikes my fancy at the time, whether it's a good idea or not.
So, yes. Inability to make decisions. Lack of direction. Lack of willpower. That's not even bringing up the inherent desire to please, the way I cave to whatever the strongest influence in my life is, etc.
I'm probably carrying about twice the weight I should be carrying. I've never been a small girl, but I'm disgustingly huge now. I hate to look at myself. But on my own, I'll never really do anything about it. I'll try. For about three days. That's pretty much how long it takes my willpower to run out.
But my Master told me to start exercising, not for myself, but for him. I've been steadily at it for nearly two weeks now. Yeahhhh....
He told me once that one of two things happens to people like me. Either we find ourselves in abusive relationships, one after the other, or we somehow manage to fall into a situation where our need to be a possession, of sorts, is used for good, rather than for evil. Now, honestly, I'm too damned mean and stubborn for the former. (My nutjob ex once threw a phone at me, and I calmly picked it up, turned around, and slung it back at him, then advanced on him with one of those crazy, sociopathic smiles that you normally see on the villains in horror movies, saying, "What now? What NOW?!?!?!" I think he was afraid I was about to slice him to bits or something.) Somehow I got lucky enough to get the latter. Kinky sex notwithstanding.
I know, without question, that if he told me to kill myself, I'd do it. In fact, some of my darkest emotionally masochistic fantasies involve him deciding he doesn't want me anymore, but as a reward for my faithful service, he tortures me to death, rather than letting me go and forcing me to face all that release would entail.
Yeah, I'm fucked up. Shut up.
The upshot of which is that I really believe I need more of this type of control in my life. I'm afraid I'll never do anything or be anything worthwhile otherwise. I obviously suck at doing things without it. Not to mention how good, how secure, how WHOLE it makes me feel.
So whatever. Call me crazy, call me whatever. The truth is, I need it. I need my whole life to be subject to the whims of my Owners. Not just parts of it. Not just, "Hey, do our laundry when you're here." All of it. Not that I think I'd be micromanaged. That's not our style. Plus, eventually, I'd go psycho. Just tell me what you need done and get the hell out of my way, please. I need something to work towards and someone who really wants to me accomplish it.
There's a line from the old Rob Thomas/Santana collaboration from back in the late 90s, early 00s ("Smooth") that goes, "I would change my life to better suit your moods."
Yeah. That's pretty much it.
Anyway, I've been awfully long-winded. The point is, I suck at school, at work, at life, period. And since none of us are independently wealthy, I guess being a real live house slave is pretty much out of the question right now. So I need direction. I need to be more under the thumbs of my Owners to get my life out of its current shithole, or else I'm pretty sure I'll be in this godawful state of ickiness forever.
God, it's gotta be hell to be an Owner. 'Cause when your pet looks at you and goes, "Here's my shit. Now fix it," that's gotta be a horrible feeling. But, yeah. Here's my shit. Help me fix it?
I know this is a fairly controversial point of view, but since when has that really bothered me?
I believe that there are certain people--and, yes, they are most likely few and far between--whose place in the world is in the ownership of another. Yeah, I believe slavery has valid applications, and not just "ooh, fun sex slavery," either.
I don't think the need to be owned has anything to do with age, sex, race, religion, financial status (or lack thereof), or anything else. I just think that there are certain people in the world who function at their best only when they are under control of another, kinky sex or no.
I'd never advocate for slavery as an institution, simply because slavery as an institution is too rife with corruption and exploitation to be valid. However, on the other hand, I think the lack of that sort of outlet to the people who most need it is less than healthy as well.
As you may have guessed from this little monologue, I am one of these people. If reincarnation is something that actually happens, I was almost surely a house slave in ancient Rome.
Sure, it's easy for people who don't get it (and that'd be most of the people on the face of the planet) to say there's something wrong with this particular mindset. You can say I'm a doormat. You can say that if I'd set boundaries, people wouldn't take advantage of me. You can say that it stems from a lack of self-esteem or whatever mental illness happens to be de rigeur at the moment. You can say that I need to learn a more adult way of dealing with the world, that I need to grow up and take responsibility, blah, blah, blah. You wouldn't be saying anything I've never said to myself.
You can argue that I'm this way because my mother hardly ever let me out of her sight until I was 17 or so. You would quite possibly be right.
However, what's really more humane? Forcing someone like me into years of therapy, hell-bent on changing his/her natural predilections, and making him/her believe that there's something inherently wrong with him/her, and ultimately failing and making everyone involved miserable, or allowing that person to embrace what he/she is in a non-exploitative manner?
I've trained horses for years. Not green-breaking them, but refining them. And I can tell you right now, it's a hell of a lot easier to work with what you've got than it is to try to make a Clydesdale into a racehorse. You end up with a lot happier horse in the end, too.
So if people can agree that it's kinder to let a horse be what it is, then why's that not true for humans?
I have a degree in psychology, and I can tell you unequivocally that psychology, as a profession, and pop psychology, as a pastime for armchair therapists, has failed humanity miserably. Miserably. Read Martin Seligman if you need criticism of the discipline from someone who's a lot smarter than I am.
But I digress.
Anyway, if you're not convinced, then go ahead and stop reading because nothing I'll say from this point on will change your mind.
...
Ok. You're still with me.
I think that there are hallmarks of someone like me, someone for whom being property is a viable option--and, yes, there have been psychological studies done which demonstrate that for most people, the loss of freedom is devastating, but for a few oddities, it's not. Let's look at me, for example, because I'm an unrelenting narcissist, and this blog is about me, after all.
Yes, I was extremely sheltered for most of my life. I'm also not a dumbass. I'm capable of taking care of myself, in a perfunctory sort of way. I can take care of the basics, but as for the rest, I don't really give a shit. I don't really lack ambition. I can do whatever needs doing, but I'm not very good at knowing what needs doing. I lack direction on my own.
I'm also incredibly self-destructive if there's not someone around to stop me. I won't go into this in any sort of depth, but imagine every self-destructive behavior known to man except drugs, and you pretty much have the portrait of me.
Then, there's the compelling evidence that I simply perform better when I'm told to do something than when I have to figure it out myself. On my own, I waffle and waver and never really get anywhere. Call it Hamlet Syndrome. I have no impulse control, and I basically just do whatever the fuck strikes my fancy at the time, whether it's a good idea or not.
So, yes. Inability to make decisions. Lack of direction. Lack of willpower. That's not even bringing up the inherent desire to please, the way I cave to whatever the strongest influence in my life is, etc.
I'm probably carrying about twice the weight I should be carrying. I've never been a small girl, but I'm disgustingly huge now. I hate to look at myself. But on my own, I'll never really do anything about it. I'll try. For about three days. That's pretty much how long it takes my willpower to run out.
But my Master told me to start exercising, not for myself, but for him. I've been steadily at it for nearly two weeks now. Yeahhhh....
He told me once that one of two things happens to people like me. Either we find ourselves in abusive relationships, one after the other, or we somehow manage to fall into a situation where our need to be a possession, of sorts, is used for good, rather than for evil. Now, honestly, I'm too damned mean and stubborn for the former. (My nutjob ex once threw a phone at me, and I calmly picked it up, turned around, and slung it back at him, then advanced on him with one of those crazy, sociopathic smiles that you normally see on the villains in horror movies, saying, "What now? What NOW?!?!?!" I think he was afraid I was about to slice him to bits or something.) Somehow I got lucky enough to get the latter. Kinky sex notwithstanding.
I know, without question, that if he told me to kill myself, I'd do it. In fact, some of my darkest emotionally masochistic fantasies involve him deciding he doesn't want me anymore, but as a reward for my faithful service, he tortures me to death, rather than letting me go and forcing me to face all that release would entail.
Yeah, I'm fucked up. Shut up.
The upshot of which is that I really believe I need more of this type of control in my life. I'm afraid I'll never do anything or be anything worthwhile otherwise. I obviously suck at doing things without it. Not to mention how good, how secure, how WHOLE it makes me feel.
So whatever. Call me crazy, call me whatever. The truth is, I need it. I need my whole life to be subject to the whims of my Owners. Not just parts of it. Not just, "Hey, do our laundry when you're here." All of it. Not that I think I'd be micromanaged. That's not our style. Plus, eventually, I'd go psycho. Just tell me what you need done and get the hell out of my way, please. I need something to work towards and someone who really wants to me accomplish it.
There's a line from the old Rob Thomas/Santana collaboration from back in the late 90s, early 00s ("Smooth") that goes, "I would change my life to better suit your moods."
Yeah. That's pretty much it.
Anyway, I've been awfully long-winded. The point is, I suck at school, at work, at life, period. And since none of us are independently wealthy, I guess being a real live house slave is pretty much out of the question right now. So I need direction. I need to be more under the thumbs of my Owners to get my life out of its current shithole, or else I'm pretty sure I'll be in this godawful state of ickiness forever.
God, it's gotta be hell to be an Owner. 'Cause when your pet looks at you and goes, "Here's my shit. Now fix it," that's gotta be a horrible feeling. But, yeah. Here's my shit. Help me fix it?
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