Complicated: A Simple Life?

my subbie zone. nothing in the world feels more safely dangerous, or dangerously safe, then that place I go when in bondage. my place in my head. I don'
t hardly exercise the subbie in me anymore.but I often spend countless hours dreaming of the past experiences... I truelly miss that bound freedom. my simple complexity of personal Nirvana.

What madness am I on now? what spark of in-creation is my muse?

I don't know what going on inside me right now... I'm conflicted by the brain when dealing with the conflict belongs to a beating, bloody heart. And I'm feeling a lil' bit off the path of least destruction. Stretching my self more then I can stretch, expanding all the same. In so few words only so much is said and yet more.

in destruction all things change... perspectives, attitudes, memories set aside (pro or con), love, hate, nuetralities, behaviour....everything shifts and alters but never stays the same.

once upon a time I was a child... now I'm a woman and everywhere in between is destruction. a little bit here. a little bit there. growth takes place: natural or structured, physical or emotional, meta-physical and mental. how we deal with and apply as individual creatures, with  singular collective experiences. what is this strange experiment and where has it gone wrong?

I haven't most of the answers though I have gathered some. But I seem to know all the right questions.  ironic, but not really. and another construct smashes in an instant with out ever hearing it shatter and another frame is place on the wall. waiting for its turn to fall. "as you claw off the thin ice" (pf)

but seriously. I dunno whats going on anymore. its just an amusement ride without a safety net (no wonder I'm afraid of  clowns)

moving in a few days up the interstate a few towns. I'm excited and apprehensive. kinda sick a lil about it. but yeah... out of the motel and into a trailer we go. slowly moving back up in the world. I remain optimistic. crosses my fingers.

tired and wanting. always wanting, what else to existance for a T-girl is there but want?

what to say to revise my alt.com profile?

a 25 year old Trans-gurl, full of sass with a country style. I'm no proper lady, though some part of me wants to be that way sometimes.  I've been living full-time since I turned 18, on HRT for four years. had no surgeries to date, no implants, I'm %100 natural as horomones can go for transfolk. I've been in light bondage sessions with boyfriends and doms since I was 16, though I have lacked being formally trained. but honestly until lately I was afraid to be anything but a subbie in my relationships. the spring of 09' was the point were my mistress and her dom "adopted" me as their girl. around midsummer things fell apart between her dom and I as he didn't respect that I was formally hers. and that I wouldn't betray her to sleep with him without her knowledge or consent.... I decided then that I was going to try dating without the safety I felt in being a "girl of the collar" for awhile and experience a kind of relationship I'd never known. one without the control. without subbmitting to every whim. and now that I have and realized how frightened I feel without being owned. I want that again. though maybe less then I had thought I did at one point. I can't describe what I feel in that subbie space that I keep, but to venture there again would be heaven to me. jaded, a sinner of a saint and a restless childe without a place. I am in love with my girlfriend and do not wish to leave that love I feel with her, but my mind needs that subbie space to grow, my body needs it to feel at peace and my place in the world. my soul cries for the direction and to give in to control, to be punished and reward as it must feel. I've never known much but that in my life, and I am frightened without.the world is too complicated for me without the simplicity of life bound in my collar....  even if it is just a part time play. but I lack self purpose without....

I don't know what I am going to really write on Alt, or fetlife to this respect but I dunno.... just sorting myself out, I guess.

my father. because at the time all he could do was chastise me and berate me any time we saw each other and, all I wanted was the comfort I needed the comfort only a parent can truely provide. I was distraught and collapsing on myself, and I felt he was only contributing to that instead of helping out of that frame of mind. we have since reconciled my moment of weakness and though we do not talk as much as I'd like to, he no longer causes me more pain intentionally.

I don't know where this rambling rant may lead or what thoughts it may illicit and follow. Today I just choose to write and see what happens.

I've been dwelling a lot on change in myself... and future, that dreaded word and abstract that it ultimately is. the past, to me, is nothing but a recollection of bad memories that invade my sleep, still invading my emotions vaguely, years after such storms have come and gone. I try to think back and remember a friend taken from me by fate and I can't remember the face, but good times we had doing something together... but in retrospect of the bad people whom I have been scarred by emotionally and, though I can't remember the face, I often feel the harsh touch. or the smell of breath. or the pain of my body. every man who violated me... I shudder to imagine though that these will be my dying memories when the end of this body comes...

I look at the future now that I have a part of it. once upon a time I couldn't believe I would live this long... I swore that the darkness left in the wake of the storms of my life would consume me like a black hole, eventually killing me by my own hand. that was once upon a time though. though now I have the fear of the unknown and uncertain future that I know I have. I don't exactly know what changed in me that hopeless perspective, but the change itself I can say speculatively was when I started hormone replacement therapies a 4 years. it was like, wow: I don't feel hopeless, or sad all the time like I used to. I don't feel as empty. I don't feel wrong in my skin or as if I'm not a part of the world anymore. I interact and embrace life in a way so new to me.
I have had 4 years of this new perspective to contemplate, and though I still say its a new perspective to me I don't yet understand what really changed. I'm still jaded, and still sad at times, but I simply accept these aspects of self and personality instead of letting the darkness consume my being.
even my religious beliefs seem to be effected by that particular shift. before I had the belief of pagan cultures that my gender peculiarity was caused by some clashing of many higher powers, that only many gods disagreeing over how I was supposed to be could cause such a strange creature to exist... or some silly belief like that. lately I find myself returning to the theories of my catholic/christian roots of one god, though I believe him/her to have made me as a cruel joke upon the world. somebody who could endure so much evil and not fail in her belief in human nature to be good if we choose to live and treat others to how we all should be treated for a greater purpose then ourselves.... a sinner and a saint to the furthest extremes, yet rolled into one ball of flesh and blood and being. maybe that belief is also silly, but it works for me in my religious perspectives. I'm more philosophical then religious though. we all will always have questions without answers, though and sometimes we just merely have to accept that an answer may not exist.

on another notation my poetry is slacking since the HRT... maybe its simply that I complain less or maybe that I'm just losing it. who knows. from like 5 poetic rants a day to maybe five in the last 4 years.

I dunno, its just another rambling on of my thoughts. but I'm out for the moment.

my tradition: a bottle of jamesons irish whiskey. ever since my friend jonny died on st. pattys day drinking himself stupid and passing out on the railroad bed. cheers to you, jonnie! we miss you terribly. and to the irish-canadians I descend form for the ellis island and boston ports refused you, you still made it to "the land of the free" (sarcasm on free). and when the time comes I will pass the tradition of jamesons to my kin.
happy Irish day!

I wait for the postman to bring me a letter
and I wait for the silence to finally break
I will never be what you wanted father
but for you I'd wait
knowing all in vain it may be too late
don't hate me father and it's never too late

I never had a father tell me it would be ok
nor did he ever say he was proud of me
I spent so much time thinking how could
  a father not love a daughter he never took
     the time to know
so I found me a daddy to hold me and never
  let me go
but still I wait for the letter to come
don't hate me father, it'll never be too late

only wish I, could you see me from loving eyes
and you could tell me that there is no reason to cry
if nothing less just tell me goodbye
  before there is no time
hear that I'm sorry, that I didn't mean to shame
  you, or make you hurt.
don't hate me father, I don't want it to be too late

to say I love you through my horror picture show
to say that I am proud to be me and lived through
  that I have only to regret the things we never said
     between a father, son, or daughter.

don't hate me father that I'd send you a letter
hoping forgiveness for a life that seems a sin
while I sit in the kitchem
  waiting for the postman
I'll sit here forever
waiting for that day to come

Caitlyn Jean.... 2/2/2010


I wrote this a while ago and was really depressed for some strange reason and came across it in my notebook. I had a terrible dream this morning that my father died and nobody told me until he had already been buried. and all the things we never said and should have was left unsaid. I didn't even get to say good bye. I've been calling his phone with no answer so I'm praying no news is good news as my mother used to tell me.
it's strange that I wrote this while thinking back on my years in off-and-on bdsm play, and why I loved more mature men to be my sir, my dom, or my top, whatever term you use. but ultimately its a Daddy, complex. a strong loving man that would discipline and reward his princess. to control my wild side. I looked for all the things my father never gave me and sought my recognition. those years seem so lost to me and the reconciliation may never come to me completely. but I sent him a letter of how I felt and who I am, not so has come a reply, but I wish only to say that I don't hate him for the things he put me through and that I didn't mean to put him through the things I did. I just wanted his love for a child who loves unconditionally her father. I wanted to say I was sorry, so I selfishly wouldn't regret.....

I'm touchy today. sad and crying uncontrollably last night. I don't know exactly why for though.but this post is easing my sadness, or at least distracting it for a bit.... toodles

Preppy: nobody should wear clothes that make you look like you think your better then everyone else. its just not cool.

almost never anymore as I don't have my own phone at the moment, but I do often when I have one. I like to just say hi every now and then to let my fam and friends know I'm ok and well. other then that I'm pretty independent and don't often share my plans unless it involves someone I'm texting.