Brittle

I feel brittle.

I don’t know why exactly. Well I guess I know why, I just don’t want to say so.

Not just brittle, but spiky. Edgy. Fragile. Irritated and impatient.

Breakable.

I’m busy being busy. Doing all the things, and doing nothing, making noise for myself, distracting myself from whatever is going on.

It works for the most part.

But I am caught in a quiet moment right now. Can’t concentrate enough to talk myself out of the quiet.

I will, though. In a moment. I can’t rest here, if I stop I am vaguely worried that I won’t ever move again.

Outwardly I am clear and focussed, normal, I’m fine.

How are you?

I’m fine.

It’s true, or close, or will be soon. Hard to say.

Too busy and not busy enough, frustrated with it.

I’d write angsty emotive poetry if I was good at it.

I’m not though.

Told a potential sub they weren’t a good match for me when they called my honesty ‘passive aggressive’. An immediate peak of annoyance, an ‘oh FFS’, a ‘bye now and good luck to you’. Polite and dismissive. Waiting for the blowback ‘stupid bitch’ ‘fuck you’ whatever. Bring it.

Told a young Domme with a douchebag sub to take a good long look at the things she is saying about him, about them. She knows she has to dump his sorry arse, but she is invested now, basic truths make her cry, it hurts my heart.

Exhausted by the effort in it. All of it.

I am not fit for people right now. Scowling at them before they’ve even said a word to me and covering the frown with tissue paper upon which I paint a face that isn’t mine. A transparent picture of a smiley face behind which I narrow my eyes and bare my teeth.

No I don’t want to talk about it.

I’m fine.

Come and expect nothing of me. Let me be the one to suck the energy from your very bones until you are dry and brittle and light as a feather. Until there is nothing left.

I will wave as you float away, not even mouthing a ‘thank you’, dispassionately watch you disappear into the sky as if you never existed at all.

A wisp, an idea, something that was never real.

I hesitate, always, to post such things. Too personal, too dull, too… everything.

But it’s this or nothing.

And I swear if anyone pop-psychologises at me (is SO a word!), or tells me what I ‘should’ do, or makes ‘helpful’ suggestions in the comments, I will rage-delete them with hard stabby fingers. Just… no.

I’m wallowing for a bit before I dust myself off and carry on. Just for a bit.

Loves: 19
Please wait…

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52 comments

  1. Soooooooooo tempting. . .
    “And I swear if anyone pop-psychologises at me (is SO a word!), or tells me what I ‘should’ do, or makes ‘helpful’ suggestions in the comments, I will rage-delete them with hard stabby fingers. Just… no.”

    *finger nails tapping at the keys*
    It’s a trap isn’t it?
    Coug

  2. Weird. My formatting seems to have hidden my previous comm not:

    ~~Drafts Permit to Wallow as Needed certificate and transmits it to Ferns. ~~

  3. Well, actually, you should….

    (Sorry. I can’t resist being a smart ass sometimes. ;) )

    I call unsolicited advice from well meaning people who disregard everything I’ve said assvice. It fits perfectly.

    Keep being you. Peace and hugs and good thoughts for finding what you want and need.

  4. It never ceases to amaze me the way you can put feelings into words so poignantly. Often times I have read one of your posts and thought to myself: “That’s EXACTLY how I feel” but I lack the ability to verbalise, much less write about it.

    Far be it from me, as one who merely smoulders silently when feeling ‘brittle’, to offer any advice on what you should do. However **HUGS**, just in case you may find it even a little helpful.

  5. Hang in there. Brittle or not, you are an honest, perceptive, funny, incredibly talented presence in our lives.

    (Pop-psychologises is indeed a word! But you spelled it wrong.. ‘pop-psychologizes’ … truth. Check the Scrabble dictionary. (Um, okay, not really.))

    1. Thanks so much for the sweetness.

      And I’m afraid you Murrikans have co-opted all the zees, so there are none left for us colonials…

      Ferns

  6. I was feeling crabby & irritable on the 25th too. Work was annoying, then I take the crabbiness home with me. I find it more frustrating when the crabbiness is just there with no discernible cause though, which sounds like what you have. This too shall pass!

  7. I came for the Domme and the sexy back when I thought I might be a sub, but stayed for the person (who I greatly like but perhaps wouldn’t get on with) long after.

    I popsicle most of your posts even if I don’t always comment, and probably always do a bad job of the analysis. But that’s perhaps a risk you’re taking when you’re being both brutally honest and a deliberate enigma.

    You don’t like it when people tell you what you “should” do, and that’s understandable.

    Do *you* know what you “should” do?

    Yours,

    Can’t think of anything clever at this time.

  8. “My biggest fantasies is to be as funny as Cougs. Alas, no fantasy camp or pro offers that.”
    I’m just naturally FAAAAAAAAAAAAAHBUUUUUUULOOOOOOOUS Dahling, you can’t buy it anywhere I’m afraid. .

    I should do a blog like Ferns but eh that would involve effort, I didn’t get where I am today by being productive.
    Really Ferns should just make me co author on this blog, I could that touch of class that’s lacking really.

    Oh and we could have hats!

    Seriously HATS! Who doesn’t love hats?
    OMG
    WE
    COULD
    HAVE
    HATS. .

    I love hats me
    Coug

      1. It doesn’t.

        I’m recommending it to you as a way out of a “brittle” state of mind.

        And what do the writing courses you are considering cost?

        Best.

        TRW

        1. *smile* I know, but my entire previous post was about how I can’t.

          Even when I wanted to. Even when I thought I could. Even when they deserved it. It’s a thing I’m apparently unable to do in my heart of hearts. So you saying it or recommending it doesn’t make any difference to what I’m actually capable of.

          The writing courses are in the realm of $8,000-10,000.

          Ferns

        2. Oh s**t – I should have read your post!

          well – I guess you’re screwed then.

          Unless you can find someone who wants to be forgiven and will pay $8,000 – $10,000 for it.

          Best.

          TRW

        3. Definition of a man: A human being with a penis and at least one ball, searching for an excuse that will fly.

          TRW

        4. Definition of a woman: a human being with a vagina searching for a justification to follow her desires.

          TRW

        5. 1. Unless the bait includes a bottle of champagne, you are just wishful thinking.

          2. I have no idea what you are talking about.

          3. Some women do not have vaginas and some men do not have penises.

          4. I really REALLY have no idea what you are talking about.

          Ferns

        6. How about a bottle of vintage champagne and the $8,000 – $10,000 cash for bait?

          Who makes numbered lists any more?

          TRW

  9. How can you claim you’re no good at angsty poetry in the same post that you include some awesome angsty prose poetry?
    Maybe because it’s your blog and you make the rules and DON’T think of contradicting you when you feel like this?
    Yes Ma’am. Understood. It was wrong of me. Please accept my apology and also this champagne and chocolate cake to beg your forgiveness.

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