What’s me in me

5 10 2009

I know I make mistakes. We all do, isn’t it? We are human after all. But what I know now is what I need, which can be sometimes different from what I want and it can lead me to make some mistakes.
What I am looking for is a degree of trust, so to speak. A degree of trust, as I spoke in the previous post, that can put me in a position to trust a person with my life, somehow. From that point, as I see it, everything is possible.
The problem is how to get to that point, for no one seemed able to make me feel his presence, his wisdom, his understanding completly.
For is as simple as this, I want to feel I am understood, completly. That nothing is hidden, that everything is clear.
In this process, I admit, I scavenge my own emotions to an excess. There is something that doesn’t leave me rest, inside of me, something always looking for questions and explanations and always fearing the worst.
Once I realized this, you might think, it’s easy to overcome it, isn’t it? Nothing so far from the truth, for once you find that part of you, you have to deal with it and keep it sedated somehow, but it will never truly rest, it will exert always a kind of influence on you.
So, for me, the answer was simple: since I can’t tame it, let’s run it wild and let’s see where it goes. And here I am, writing on a blog about me and my desired and my kinks. In doing this though I didn’t foresee what could happens with my emotions, for leaving everything to itself arose a lot of unforeseen feelings that I had my hard time to calm down.
But it’s not ending here. Since I don’t have any more the compass of my own feelings, I thought that being honest and sharing them would be the only thing to do… like saying to someone “Ehi, I’m here, I’m difficult, this is what I feel, can you help?” And again this was a mistake.
Of course there is someone who can help, but their help will have to have the same degree of trust required above and so, basically, the serpent bites his tail.

Here we are, alone again eventually, thinking exactly why I did this and that and what went wrong, why I didn’t feel any more protected or cared.
Although my mind, being of a masochistic kind, will push me to think that everything is simply my fault, ipso facto showing me how deeply I am punishing myself making this body and this mind unreachable from any one, I must say that my heart says something different.
Not fully understood, to be honest, but different. It says that I have to keep going, that this is my yellow brick road.
I just need a couple of stuffed companion for OZ is not very far.
If I only had a brain!




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