Just Along For The Ride.

I have been a little bit disconnected from this blog.  It’s not that I haven’t anything to say, even at my most mundane there is always something of interest I can bring to the table even if it is just me being myself . . . showing up is enough  . . . more then enough.  I realize that putting a blog out there there is always a way for someone to find you out.  That is fine I have always stood my ground and never would take any of it away.  This is the real me, it is though unfortunate the people that have found. It was through an honest mistake (my Sparrow).  Let me tell you, this is the last person that should ever get their hands on this kind of material.  This blog is a big gapping open wound to me, its a heartache and a love story.  Its my story, my life.  I feel somewhat cheated, this has been an outlet for me, whoever wanted to listen could, could not whatever . . . a life of a stripper trying to find a way.  The cheat comes because its almost like handing someone a fucking grenade to blast you with a shit storm of your private demons. Information that could only be used against you, nothing good can come from it. I am the one left vulnerable.  What brings me back today is the fact that I don’t have a lot, really I have nothing to call my own.  I have my fucking words and to me that is everything.  A certain situation stirred the pot, got me thinking about this blog and my life and what the heck I am doing.  A few weeks ago on Facebook I noticed that someone had reposted a status that I literally wrote a year and a half ago.  This was not someone reposting or sharing some stupid Marilyn Monroe quote that we all have read ad nauseam over and over again.  It was something that I had written, and posted.  This person reposted it and took the credit for herself.  I seriously went bullshit, if you liked it that much just simply repost it and attach my name at the end of the quotes you fucking idiot.  Nope.  There was none of that.  I told this person that kindly remove my words if you are not going to source properly.  Fuck you.  I thought about it for almost an hour, I was so mad  at something that some would think is silly, because  at the end of the day all I have are my words. All any of us have are our words. I can’t give away my power right? This is mine, always has been.  I have unfortunately felt the need to censor myself, because of this I have been unable to write from an authentic point of view, my view.  I thought that it wasn’t right, felt wrong and if I can’t keep shit real well then what the hell is the point?

I have never been one to beat around the bush.  I feel like parts of my sexual identity are finally getting back . . . shit it getting right.  Its almost like I have these little triggers, flashes of her, of me and it all becoming one.  Being able to articulate all the fantasy in reality all while knowing and being the fantasy without getting completely lost.  I tend to go there and play fantasy in my mind alone.  Like if I jerk off, I keep it all to myself . . . never sharing keeping something of that undisclosed all  for me.  I feel. . .or at least I have felt that in the past that somethings are better left to the imagination.  Maybe not anymore, maybe I should just let Sparrow fuck my ass until it bleeds all while fisting my pussy.  I think I might keep some of the wrong things to myself.  Sparrow has often said, you gave everyone else this side of you . . . the complete strangers that paid you.  I realize this  . . . maybe that was part of it for me, I always was thought to be an exhibitionist.  I think I have to be one at home more, don’t get me wrong we fuck and we fuck well.  I miss this part of my blog, I am sure the people that should not be reading this are not going to want to read the direction this is going to go.  Unless of course you want to read at how wet my pussy gets when I cum or how well Sparrow fucks me and fucks me hard.  For the first time in a while I feel free, I am not chocking my words back.

I really don’t have a clue what direction this blog will go in, all I can promise that it will be real, and it will be raw.  Maybe it will turn into my sexual diary.  I seemingly want to explore the unspoken carnal desires that lie deep with inside me.  One already from reading knows  what my mental state is, this should make for interesting  research, and writing material. I struggle struggle every fucking day, I still think there is a valid point to me stripping.  At a fresh 34 I think I never have looked better and fuck the thing I said about being dairy in that business maybe more like a  unrefrigerated almond milk.  You still are going to expire but you got a little time.  My Sparrow . . . oh man he loves me.  Oh and does anyone have a fucking suggestions to not get accidentally “glutened” I am lucky now to be gluten free along with being vegan.  It’s a little too much. I miss my fucking pasta.  What is a good Italian girl to do?





~ by applejaxe on October 30, 2013.

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