Voices on obsession

Oh. Where are the other ones?.  

~They're having a picnic


~It's National Voice in your Head picnic day.  They give everything a National Day now.

You're kidding. Jeez Louise. It's quiet in there..,..but I do like picnics. Tell them to hurry back - my sarcastic inner monologue is just about the best thing I have going for me.

There is nothing to writing. You just sit at the typewriter and bleed. Ernest Hemmingway


Long form script:

I write about my obsessions. The things that haunt me. The things I can't forget. Won't forget. Due to magnetism, mesmerism or chemical re-action. They are stories I carry in my body waiting to be released. Like guinea worms, they burrow in my brain. Better out than in. This is one. About BDSM.

 Smile and the world smiles with you. Cry and you cry alone. Ah, but what happens if you want punishment. Because it's all your fault. Well, then I send out a search party looking for dark energy. Two-headed alien beasts in Alpha Centauri wake up for that kind of energy. 

I keep encountering these things. Shame. Regret. Confusion. I get used to them. I even start to miss them if they go away. I feel strangely ill at ease in their absence because we have spent so long together cultivating psychological chaos. The ability to reduce my awareness level of any other emotion has become an intricate part of my personality. I use the same inner-resource to block out emotional angst. I am very good at multi-tasking numbness.

There is an old saying, 'If things are going well, steel yourself. Sooner or later, they're going to get worse. If things are going badly, I cheer. Because I deserve that. A very natural law dictates that it shall be so. Truth. I probably want it, and that's what I fight every day. 

I live in a fantasy world. A bubble that my imagination has created for myself. There I can see things the way I want to. And I can tease all my Sisyphean shame into my preferred punishment.

I want to be captured by figments and phantoms. Taken to a room of mirrors. Filled with no hopes & no will. Just deja vu. Watching me. I am only for them. They can do with me what they like. Because I deserve nothing better

This is my fantasy

Read between the lines. You'll figure out what I'm fantasing about. The number one fantasy women have - according to reputable polls. And it is true for this focus group of one.  

But not for the same reasons. I got some different reasons.