Friday, March 2, 2018
Lesson 244 ~How “Write” You Are~
Hey Lady Sophia,
I Am Not Afraid Anymore, and I would like to think I’m a man of my word, indeed a man of words, only how often must I admit that words fail me? Then again I talked about having an epiphany the other day, living my life as though my submissive, my wife, the future mother of my children is watching me and for some reason, those words mean a bit more honestly.
Love is exhausting, to say the least, and I can only imagine it will get worse when I have someone; it’s weird how words on paper provoke a different reaction than words that we write on our hearts. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t “love” my job, and as that bastard general manager made clear, there is no contract saying I have to stay with the company, fair enough. Only I gave my word to; I guess myself, to go in when I’m supposed to, I do my best… most of the time, and while my father never taught me the value of a man’s word now, the concept carried weight and didn’t I say I hate lies, without purpose?
“I can’t learn anything from you, I can’t read in some fuckin’ book. Unless you want to talk about you, who you are. Then I’m fascinated. I’m in. But you don’t want to do that do you sport?” Sean/Robin Williams ― Good Will Hunting (1997)
I tell you and the others, Lady Sophia, that I’m going to write every day and here we are two hundred and forty-four lessons in, sometimes two a day just because I’m busy on a particular day. How about my novel though, I think I signed a contract for NaNoWriMo, and I did it in November, but then again I signed an agreement to start editing and January, February just flew by didn’t they? What about love though, what about dignity, do you know how hard it is; better a conversation with Dirty Diana but I lift my feet up when I walk, I talked more at my day job, and when the porn mood strikes… I looked up the girl, downloaded the video of the picture (thank you Pinterest) and haven’t watched it since.
Hell, that must mean I’m already expecting to chalk up another failure but not today; I think I’m starting to see why some sign contracts in blood. Could it be that I have just been using the wrong medium all this time or I need someone to keep tabs on me; back to my hypocrisy, I have my word, but I don’t trust myself sadly.
Why do you think I write out all my secrets here, including my humiliations, my sadism, right down to the days I just FAP… maybe because seeing it, speaking, remembering will one day help me to keep my word I hope, How “Write” You Are.
I Will Have No Fear