Something Before The Breakdown Below

Note: I don't mind what anyone posts here on this, just don't let it be abusive.

I seem to have the song You Oughta Know by Alanis Morisette in my head when it comes to my ex fiancé. But the hurt hasn't gone away, I threw out alot of things he gave me, but I can't help but wish I could of thrown out the pieces of my heart he shattered and will never be repaired. Even if my heart isn't whole I have a brightens knowing I can love others, just not exactly the way I loved him. and I don't think those peices will ever EVER heal. But who knows...

I feel like... I'm grieving for him... in a sense, I suppose
I dunno..
Eventually I will have a whole heart again.. some day

He is the only one who has hurt me to that degree. And there are things my ex's have done that I will never forgive. He who hurt me so severely, will be the last who will harm me to that extent of agony, of pain, of torment.

I AM
NOT A
DOORMAT

I AM
A KAJIRA

LA
FUCKING
KAJIRA!

as for my ex-Master, I will never blacken you. You do not deserve it. You are a wonderful man, I just know we have different needs now. You will always be in my heart and I appreciate all you've done, you've helped me grow. Now its time for me to stand on my own two feet and follow the path thats been calling my heart for months and get a move on with things in my life.

to you, Sir: Thank you

I have Fallen from Grace
Plummeted to the Earth at Full Speed
and have now Unfurled my wings, and Taken Flight.

I have Stepped Forward
I'm moving on in my journey.
Who knows what the world will hold for me.

Always believe in yourself akira, you may be standing alone should life knock you down. You can do this gracefully and walk away with a lighter heart, a brighter smile and a higher spring in your step. It's time to put your foot on the path...
Go...

Signed respectfully, Lovingly and Proudly.
Akira

So Much In Her Head, ReOpened Wounds, Re-Budding Heartache Again

Reflection:Status: Newly Freed

[Chorus - Rihanna:]
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

[Eminem]
I can't tell you what it really is
I can only tell you what it feels like
And right now it's a steel knife in my windpipe
I can't breathe but I still fight while I can fight
As long as the wrong feels right it's like I'm in flight
High off of love, drunk from my hate,
It's like I'm huffing paint and I love it the more I suffer, I suffocate
And right before I'm about to drown, she resuscitates me
She fucking hates me and I love it.
Wait! Where you going?
"I'm leaving you"
No you ain't. Come back we're running right back.
Here we go again
It's so insane cause when it's going good, it's going great
I'm Superman with the wind at his back, she's Lois Lane
But when it's bad it's awful, I feel so ashamed I snapped
Who's that dude? I don't even know his name
I laid hands on her, I'll never stoop so low again
I guess I don't know my own strength

[Chorus - Rihanna:]
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

[Eminem]
You ever love somebody so much you can barely breathe
When you're with 'em
You meet and neither one of you even know what hit 'em
Got that warm fuzzy feeling
Yeah, them those chills you used to get 'em
Now you're getting fucking sick of looking at 'em
You swore you'd never hit 'em; never do nothing to hurt 'em
Now you're in each other's face spewing venom in your words when you spit them
You push pull each other's hair, scratch claw hit 'em
Throw 'em down pin 'em
So lost in the moments when you're in them
It's the rage that took over it controls you both
So they say you're best to go your separate ways
Guess if they don't know you 'cause today that was yesterday
Yesterday is over, it's a different day
Sound like broken records playing over but you promised her
Next time you show restraint
You don't get another chance
Life is no Nintendo game
But you lied again
Now you get to watch her leave out the window
Guess that's why they call it window pane

[Chorus - Rihanna:]
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

[Eminem]
Now I know we said things, did things that we didn't mean
And we fall back into the same patterns, same routine
But your temper's just as bad as mine is
You're the same as me
But when it comes to love you're just as blinded
Baby, please come back
It wasn't you, baby it was me
Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems
Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano
All I know is I love you too much to walk away though
Come inside, pick up your bags off the sidewalk
Don't you hear sincerity in my voice when I talk
I told you this is my fault
Look me in the eyeball
Next time I'm pissed, I'll aim my fist at the drywall
Next time. There won't be no next time
I apologize even though I know its lies
I'm tired of the games I just want her back
I know I'm a liar
If she ever tries to fucking leave again
Im'a tie her to the bed and set this house on fire
I'm just gonna

[Chorus - Rihanna:]
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie

_______________________________________________________________________

Me, Myself and I having a conversation inside my own head, sorry if this comes out wrong.

I have so many emotions in my head and my heart while I listen to this song.
why is it when you move forward you take a back to the square in your life that caused you so much romantic pain, who destroyed your hope of finding the One. Maybe they were the One. You felt it, you knew it with every breath you took with them, you felt it in every step you took, every laugh you ever shared, every hot tear that streamed down your cheeks, or in my case, every single scar you made when they hurt you, be it intentional or not.

You never wore their collar physically, but before you knew of the lifestyle you wore it about your body, your mind, your heart, your soul.

Your Very Being

You served them before you knew how to serve.
You surrendered to them before you knew the acceptable way to surrender.
You knelt before them without ever knowing what it felt like to kneel before a man.
You were owned before you even felt or knew what being owned meant, but somehow you knew, subconsciously, what it meant.

You were a slave to them before you read any philosophy, any book, ever learned from a man of Dominant or Mastery status.
You loved them before you knew how it felt to love.

You still submit to them each time you talk, every word exchanged is an unspoken, unknown submission, but now you've realized it, you know. He, instinctively, knows you are submitting to him. Doesn't it feel... freeing? Are you scared? Yes...Is that locked, permanent hold/collar he had on you still there? Even though you knew deep down inside it was there? "Yes."

Does he say anything? "No."
Do you still feel it? "Yes..."
Does it hurt, akira? "...Yes..."
Do you love Him, akira...? "More than a slave-girl should..."

You are a kajira, you know the name now, you know what it feels like, consciously. Is this how its suppose to feel subconsciously?
Is it akira? "...I don't know"
Did you beg his physical collar? Did you plea with Him to own you? "Yes"
Did he think on it? "Yes, He said maybe another time"

Stop crying akira, this isn't doing you any good.
"But I can't take these chains off, I don't recognise them!"
They're His, akira.
"NO! ...no..no..no...no!"
Do you realize it now?

Yes...Yes...yes, she does..

"I DO!" yells

You were fully prepared to say it to him, yes, akira?
"YES, YES YES!"A Strike Across the Face, Back-handed
YES, WHAT AKIRA? it was growled, harshly
Say it, say it out loud, nice and clear, girl, say it akira... say it...
"YES, MASTER~!" Breaks Down into Tears

"Please...don't hurt me, Master...I beg you...!"

That gets alot out....

sniffles

someone please tell me, what this means....its my heart talking..


I feel shit right now.

Kajira ~ Duties, Qoutes, OTHER

The first lesson. Engrave this upon your heart, you who would be a kajira, and know this cold: because nothing you ever learn, no training you ever receive is more important.

A kajira has but three duties, in this order of priority; and she lives to perform them.

1. A kajira is pleasing, to her Master or Owner first, then to He whom she serves
2. A kajira is obedient, following her Master's or Owner's commands in their spirit, to the letter
3. A kajira is pretty, in her Master's or Owner's eyes
   
   
   
   "Look!" cried Pudding. "A silk girl!" The expression "silk girl" is used, often, among bond-maids of the north, to refer to their counterparts in the south. The expression reflects their belief that such girls are spoiled, excessively pampered, indulged and coddled, sleek pets, who have little to do but adorn themselves with cosmetics and await their masters, cuddled cutely, on plush, scarlet coverlets, fringed with gold. There is some envy in this charge, I think. More literally, the expression tends to be based on the fact that the brief slave tunic of the south, the single garment permitted the female slave, is often silk. Southern girls, incidentally, in my opinion, though scarcely as worked as their northern sisters in bondage, a function of the economic distinction between the farm and the city, are often worked, and worked hard, particularly if they have not pleased their masters. Yet, I think their labors less than those often performed by the wife of Earth. This is a consequence of Gor’s simpler culture, in which there is literally less to do, less to clean, less to care for , and so on, and also of the fact that the Gorean master, if pleased with the wench, takes care that she is fresh and ready for the couch. An overworked, weary woman, despondent and tired, is less responsive to her master’s touch; she does not squirm as well. The Gorean master, treating her as the animal she is, works and handles her in such a way that the responses of his passionate, exciting, hot-eyed, slim-legged pet are kept honed to perfection. Some men are better at this, of course, than others. There are scrolls, books, on Gor, which may be purchased inexpensively, on the feeding, care, and training of female slaves. There are others who claim, as would be expected, that the handling of a slave girl, in order to get the most out of her, is an inborn gift. Incidentally, for what it is worth, though the southern girl is, I expect, worked less hard then the northern girl, who is commonly kept isolated on the farm, she is more often than her northern sister put to the switch or whip; I think she lives under a harsher discipline; southern masters are harder with their girls, expecting more from them and seeing that they get it; northern girls, for example, are seldom trained in the detailed, intricate sensuous arts of the female slave; the southern girl, to her misery, must often learn these to perfection; moreover, upon command, she must perform, joyfully and skillfully.
   The silk girl was heeling her master, a captain of Torvaldsland. She wore, indeed, a brief tunic of the south, of golden silk. She wore a collar of gold, and, hanging in her ears, were loops of gold.
   "High-farm girls!" she whispered, as she passed the bond-maids of Ivar Forkbeard. In the south the southern slave girl commonly regards her northern counterparts as bumpkins, dolts from the high farms on the slopes of the mountains of Torvaldsland; she thinks of them as doing little but swilling tarsk and dunging fields; she regards them as, essentially, nothing more than a form of bosk cow, used to work, to give simple pleasure to rude men, and to breed thralls.
   "Cold fish!" cried out Pudding. "Stick!" cried out Pouting Lips.
   The silk girl, passing them, did not appear to hear them. "Pierced-ear girl!" screamed Pouting lips.
   The silk girl turned, stricken. She put her hands to her ears. There were sudden tears in her eyes. Then weeping, she turned away, her head in her hands, and fled after her master.
   
   So, you were happily dangling from the rafters in your submission channel, dropping water balloons on unsuspecting visitors. Or, idling away your time tying together Dommie shoelaces, painting their toe nails and hoping to get spanked (oooOOoo), when.. something happened. A Gorean slave visits and is asked to serve. You look up from your "subbie couch" to watch a beautifully crafted, poetic, and living picture of a kajira, joyful in her ability to serve and please a Master. Perhaps your first exposure to Gor was following your Dom or Master to a Gorean channel to "learn" slavery. You stay, or come back repeatedly because what you saw was so alluring and compelling, it touched a part of you that didn't seem to exist, previously. You are shocked to find yourself called, "barbarian." Your playful, adorable antics which won you acclaim and attention in the submission channel are not appreciated here. So, many of you will go away shaking your head, thinking that Gor is an austere, harsh environment. It certainly is. But, if you stay, you will understand what is most pleasing on Gor is your graceful obedience and skilled service. You will realize that subtle wit and intelligence are not only acceptable qualities for a kajira, but highly prized attributes. And, if you persevere, you will find something else. Submissives are fond of reminding us of the "gift of submission". On Gor you will find your submission is taken for granted. A true Gorean Master will not negotiate with you about when, where and how you "give" your submission. There are no "safe words" for slaves. Only then will you discover the true gift, the soul-shaking satisfaction of turning over your will to begin a life of complete deference to a Gorean Master. Then, You are a true slave!
   

Its About Time!

      To all the gay & Lesbians couples in Ireland

                                                                CONGRATULATIONS

                                 http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/breaking/2010/0702/breaking4.html

"Same-sex couples will be able to avail of legally-binding civil partnerships for the first time from next year.

The Dáil last night completed its work on the Civil Partnership Bill, which is expected to be signed into law in the autumn.

The Bill passed all stages in the Dáil shortly after 8.40pm, without the need for a vote, and will be sent to the Seanad. There was applause from the public gallery.

Under the terms of the Bill, marriage-like benefits will be extended to gay and lesbian couples across a range of areas such as property, social welfare, succession, maintenance, pensions and tax.

Once the Civil Partnership legislation is fully enacted and implemented, gay and lesbian couples will be able to register their relationship before a registrar, as long as the partners are over 18 and not involved in any other unions."

I'm delighted.
Its about time Ireland had this.
Gay Pride FTW!

(Yes, as you can see, I'm a gay pride supporter! Booyah!)

The Ko'lar

Sometimes its hard wearing a collar, constantly reminded you are owned. Sometimes it is joyous to wear such a thing, the steel about your neck. Captivated, owned, taken, proud, chained.

Those would be the five words I'd choose.
I love my Master. I do. It couldn't be more potent, but there are times I wish He would treat me as I am.
I have a scenario in my head. There is no such thing as scening, no play, just cold, hard, sharp reality.
This is not a game, some twisted hide and seek, some brutal game of cops and robbers. No.

I am a slave
La Fucking Kajira!

I want him to grab me, shove me to the floor, kick my legs apart, snatch a fistful of my hair and growl into my ear. I want Him to smack me against a wall and hiss commands at me. I want Him to snatch my wrists and tie them. I want to FEEL like a slave, I want to be snapped into submission. I want him to be rough with me, I want him to BE the Master I met in the beginning. I want him to make me cry, I want him to make me feel scared and hurt. Anything to make me feel my place beneath his feet.  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGH!!!!

On the other hand my mind is so frustrated i want to scream.
I'm just so very very totally extremely PISSED OFF.

Things are not going well for me and my life. Half of me wants to kick the shit out of someone, The other is so flustered she wants to crawl into the deepest darkest hole where no one can touch her and just... cry.

Fucking
Fed
Up