When I’m spaced out, running from one fantasy to the next – I write in my head all the time. My head never really shuts up. But it’s not until a day like this, when I’m sober, got a solid night of sleep and start getting that sense of anxiety because I can’t put my thoughts into direct action, that I sit down and write.
Wanting to feel alive seems to come at a cost for me. I’m a reckless gambler that gets either too high or too low, I have a hard time dealing with the “in between” and “stable” stuff. I like putting my head and body under the water, like in a pool or an ocean. For a moment everything is quiet, cold and light. Everything is peaceful until your lungs demand you to breathe again.
In session, I sometimes feel like under water, my head shuts up and I am with the person I am playing with. Even with all the commotion going on, it can feel strangely silent and peaceful.
You can feel everything in the silence. You can hear your heart drum in your ears, feel the breath as it moves throughout your body, smell the air, taste the adrenaline and anticipation.
I keep a diary about the people I see in this part of my life. The connections I get to make with fascinating individuals go deep. I want to hold onto those moments.
The normality of life is too fucking hard for me.
Between the lines one could say this is what BDSM gives me.