May 29th, 2011

Sunday 29th May 2011.

Today is my very own " Trinity Sunday "...tis a word i am very fond of, or maybe it has simply lodged in my mind too buggered to fall away, down past the ticking clocks own valley of death. Where old words no longer used fall a part, disintegrate within the tangled weeds of school boy dreams.As i watch the purple veins continue to creep up my legs,each vein a story, perhaps i should name each one so we can journey together as friends rather than look at horror each time i climb out of the shower.Perhaps that was what my old friend King Canute was really doing on that distant shore Centuries ago even in the dim candle light his own trinity Sunday must have drawn his breath as he counted his own purple veins. And that old school boy story told to us by tweed jacketed rusty old teachers that he was trying to turn back the tide was simply a cover up over the issue of purple veins, perhaps the teachers back then did not want to shock us as to what to expect when the skin begins to sag, crease, drive tram lines across once blessed skin, the fortitude of dreams countersigned by demons now in old age whom have crept from the bedroom wall paper of youth to ride within the mind almost daily, a baggage, a burden,i recall how so very impatient i was to gain adult hood the dream of doing what ever i wanted has turned out to be simply HA.
The man made whips of life on beaten flesh the thongs of fantasy still so strong are no comparison to the whips from society's golden glow of the word normal a word now so bandied about that what ever normal once meant,has perhaps been lost from those distant shores of King Canute.     

Monday 30th May 2011.

The clocks tick, the rhythm, is soft drifting into my thought process, the white blank screen stares at me probing into deep ray light bolts, " are you back again so soon you how how it is usually "...yes i know some habits are harder to install than others,words gather storming apathy is the watershed i have to somehow shovel against.
No doubt the white screen will once more probe again in the future,but for now this blank screen teases me, whispers " well i am glad to see you so soon arrhh so that is it the last of the May Day bank holiday Mondays . With no work to brace against. "
Yes indeed but have i used it well i can only answer that the floor of this room is no longer full of dust bunnies,no longer am i stepping on rubber bands and i have a new flat screen to linger over, quite an impressive day the maid in me although not in uniform has done well, a minor miracle for a transvestite full of ideas fantasies so bold the bubble holding them almost bursts maybe that is really why i have such long gaps..servitude perhaps so maybe i should imagine servitude rather than keep having hissy-fits looking for another Dom,could i Dom myself,is that a possible thing time will tell.