My incoherent rambling for today.

Kneeling at your feet.
Silent and still.
Your soft velvet skirt
Cool against my fevered skin
Your hand tangled in my hair
Harshly pulling to get my attention.
Raising my head to gaze at your face
Careful never to meet your eyes
I have been good today.
So good. I am proud of myself
But still your hand in my hair
Hurting me as you smile
Your nails trail down my skin
Touching and teasing
But I get no release
Orgasm is still forbidden
I haven’t forgotten the disaster last week
I know how to control myself
You must know how I feel
Your cool gaze searching my face
Finally the command comes.
Permission for release.
“Now Bri.”
The orgasm rushes through me in waves.
It was well worth the wait
So here I am at the end of my first week of full time employment. For nearly five years I've worked part time at my university as a web designer and general computer guy, but near the end of last year I was offered a promotion to a full time position with benefits, insurance, and all those goodies. Now I'm a Computer Support Analyst with my own key to the building, name on the door (well, office wall; we have no doors in this part of the building but yet we're not cubicles either), phone extension with voice mail, and other fun things. I work my eight hours a day and go to college class during my lunch break. I'm enjoying this 100%, although after spending three weeks on vacation doing pretty much nothing, I'm very tired at this point. The weekend cannot come fast enough for me today. Aside from that I love working full time; spending my days creating web content and getting paid a pretty penny for it has been my goal for nearly a decade.

Here's hoping the weeks ahead are as nice as this one has been.

I noded this as "The habit of silence" but it got eaten by klaprot. They said it was daylog material.

As I sank into depression, I fought back, tried to keep alive, talk to people and communicate this change in me. I talked about the feelings I was going through, and people tried to understand. I could tell though from their answers that they weren’t quite getting it.

I kept sinking, and as it got worse the understanding also got less, since depression is a state distant from the general experience of life. I felt isolated, and shut up a bit.

I reached out, looking for others who had the same malady. I actually found some in my circles of acquaintance, we talked and commiserated and talked some more. And that was that. It was as if there was kinship but not quite enough energy to keep at it. I shut up some more.

I found a huge community of depressives on Usenet! I was saved! I talked and compared and battled and squabbled and gained friends who meant something! This was heaven, but based on the hell we were all going through. I got a few great months out of it. Then, well, I started seeing the cycles more and more, the way we fought the same fights or explained the same experiences. I saw how people came back when they needed a recharge and vanished when they were better again. I actually got a little better too. I left.

No, I didn’t shut up more, I just left the babble. Well, maybe I did get a little quieter after there.

All this time I played computer games, long hours of escape. Long hours of silence.

Then I got a job for a while, talked to people every day, exercised my intellect. Wow, it was still there! I was happy!

Except the illness came back.

So I retreated into my room with my games again, and the cobwebs crept around me. My wife could no longer take my lack of energy, and I had to move out, to a solitary cubbyhole. Nobody to talk to. Games, and silence.

I am sick of it now, sick of the sickness, sick of the silence. I am struggling with the cobwebs to write this, to keep writing, to keep living.

Yesterday I wrote that today was going to be a big day for me, and so it is. In this post, I not only get to graduate to Novice level here on e2, but I get to announce to the world that it was indeed a lump, and so next week I get to be very familiar with the meaning of the term "radical left orchiectomy" (Also known as an orchidectomy?). They're not sure if it's cancer yet, but you can't biopsy a lump on a testicle without removing the whole damn thing.

Damn? Where'd I put that box of godiva chocolates and that bottle of store-brand sprite?

I found it hard, hard to find what it was that I was looking for. I had it on the tip of my tongue, but it slipped away. So instead of looking for something, I have been looking for what I was looking for. No sense in that, so I have decided to look for a focus, a center mass. My girlfriend thinks it should be her, but I can't think that way about her. Maybe I don't love her, maybe I'm selfish and ungreatful for what I have. But I need to focus before making that kind of decision... and a better climate. Winter is no time to make that kind of decision either. Cocooned in my home save for a weekly jaunt to flight school or the occasional group jam at a friend's house makes for some stir-crazed thoughts.It doesn't help to have late eighties hair bands blaring from the computer next to mine... stupid co-workers. I'm looking for a new job to take me away from it all long enough to find my focus and understand what it is that I am truely looking for, but then that is one of those futile statements people say when they lose track of themselves.

While I am looking for myself, I think I wanna find out why water is so heavy too. It just never made sense to me.

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