answers with no one to hear
I went out drinking friday, on Madame's suggestion no less, to try and have a bit of fun and clear my head. Besides staying out far far too late and having a bad hangover Saturday morning I'm really not sure if I accomplished either of the two goals that going to the pub (and then a bar, and then a sports bar) was supposed to accomplish.
I had fun, sure. But afterwards I just felt more empty and alone than before. Though that may have just been the booze (and the beers, and the carbomb, and the jagerbomb, and the microwaved burrito and coffee). Wasn't being a slave supposed to add purpose and reason to my life? Then why do I feel more aimless than ever?
Getting drunk and talking with old friends about life got me thinking. About chastity and slavery and where it's taking me. Really about the future and what it holds. And I had questions.
For myself, for Madame. For the universe if it cared to answer. But here I am with no one to ask except myself and my computer, neither of which are inclined to answer. So I'm sitting here on my floor wearing a CB-6000 and a beanie staring at my computer screen wishing that I had answers that I dread to questions I barely remember. Is this what slavery is?
I hate the winter.
No comments:
Post a Comment