Apr. 24th, 2002 11:13 pm
i will never (giggle) ever ask VDAA or Fac Sec to look at anything i write, ever again. At least not with red pens in their hands. Or at least i won't make the mistake of asking either one of them to be critical of my writing. i am not bitching, i am pleased that they both took the time to read it and make comments and offer suggestions. i will look at their comments with a critical eye and take what i need to make the piece better. But damn, there is a lot of red on those pages.

Tomorrow i am going to take a long ride. OH, Oh, oh, this morning when i rode i saw the sun rise. Made my heart flutter, tears came to my eyes, and a big stoopid-ass grin came to my face. But it was beautiful. And to make it even more picturesque, there was a ship in the sun, just like a post card picture. It was only a cargo ship, but the thought made it beautiful.

i'm trying to think of a destination for my ride tomorrow. All that comes to mind is the doughnut land place. i think that would be defeating the purpose of the ride, eh?
Maybe i'll head for Fahaheel. If i get up early maybe the Gulf road won't be too busy.

It has been a long long time since Master has needed to humiliate me and whip me and take me into a deep heavy scene. Sometimes i think He is growing into a nifty sadist, this morning there was the hand spanking until i came, just because He knows He can make me. But there has been a very very long dry spell. Since before He went back to the states as a matter of fact. i don't understand what has happened. Actually several things have changed since He came back. He doesn't seem to be so interested in sex any more. Before the trip, i could expect being used at least twice during the week and on weekends too. Now i'm lucky if it happens once on the weekends. It used to be that we would wake up during the week and mess around a bit before getting up and ready for work. Now, no.

ok ok, i've been getting up early in the morning to ride, but not every day. And this has been going on since before i started the morning rides. He's getting older, but i thought men were 'able' for a way long time. i don't know what it is.

i was listening to Annie Lennox on my ride this morning. There is a song on this cd, i forgot to check the name, something about the wings of an angel. The words of the song hit me hard. About a white haired woman who died. A 57 year old white haired woman. i'm almost there, and it hit me hard.

What the fuck good is it for me to be out there peddling my ass about the neighborhood? i'm going to die anyway. It doesn't matter what i do, i'm going to day, and each day i get closer and closer to that time. My father died when he was 42, i'm living on gravy. i had been out for the majority of my ride. i was feeling good, the endorphins were pumping along through my veins, and this made me sad. It's a good thing i heard it at that time and not earlier. i don't know what i would have done, or how it would have affected me. Damn, i hate what that song did to me. It didn't stop my ride. i finished it. And i went about my day with a good feeling because of the sunrise, and the fact that i brought a bit of joy into my secretary's life by remembering today is administrative assistants' day. i won't listen to Annie Lennox early in the morning on my ride again. NO NO NO

i tried to talk with Master about this at dinner time, but He doesn't understand. i can't explain it well, i am pretty sure i don't have a death wish, but i do have a fascination with it. i'm not afraid of dying, and i don't want to live a long long life. i don't want to be the last of my contemporaries, i don't want to outlive my children or my family members. i don't want to be useless, i don't want to have nothing to do, or be able to do nothing.

This fascination has been with me for a long time. Even before Dad died, i always wondered if i should live my life full and fast so i can do everything i want before i die, or should i take it slow so that i have stuff to do when i'm old. i think i want to be dead before i run out of things to do. Bummer.


Julia Klein

September 2017

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