October 7th, 2010
Blogging, writing, screaming to be noticed – silently. Watching the numbers on the stats graph rise and fall, seeing them fall more often than rise. What am I doing this for? Who and I doing this for? Why? Every Thursday I spend hours staring at the screen, wondering what to write about, wondering how it will be taken, if anyone will even read it, will even care. Last week someone asked to reblog a post I made and I was shocked, especially given the topic. Today I’m at a loss, after spending the afternoon rambling at him over a variety of topics, none of which is “fit to print,” as they say.
I wonder about this blog, this weekly posting on a random topic. A lot of the books I read on blogging suggested posting every day, at least a few times every day, if you really wanted to have a successful blog. I have a hard time getting one post written a week, I couldn’t imagine posting every few hours. Isn’t that what Twitter is for? Let’s not even go into how I don’t even begin to use Twitter correctly. I’m not a social person, an introvert trying to join the social network.
And I’ve got this blog in two different places, splitting my audience between a WordPress sponsored blog and my personal website. It isn’t much of a site really: the blog, a bio and a couple of pictures, but I like the theme better, and some day, maybe I’ll have a book to promote or I might review products in the sidebar. Technically, I’ll have a book to promote come November. The first of my flash fiction pieces is due out the first installment of a year long anthology on October 31st if all goes as planned. They’re looking at publishing three months worth at a time, instead of it all at once.
So what do those social people talk about, those ones who blog all the time, or use twitter correctly? Their lives, details and stories taken directly every day from what they are doing currently or did last night. Sharing far more in depth than a shy anonymous blogger like me would consider safe. Safe? I share a lot of details, and while I say this is anonymous, people who know me could probably figure it out, and I have shared it with people I trust. But to share more, would feel like an invasion of privacy, and not just theirs, but mine as well. I don’t have enough to say to the public at large to fill a blog every day. I hardly ever update my non-kinky Facebook status more than once a week.
I’m not sure why I’m sharing this strange and non-kink related ramble with you, my dear readers, other than to say it’s been a scrambled kind of day. I want to share with you more often, but I don’t know if that’s possible. Though I feel that after this post, I owe you at least one over the weekend, if not a handful of tweets as well.
Let me leave you with these thoughts. Winter is coming, I need stockings and a warm coat. It’s hard being sexy when your teeth are chattering. And no one in his right mind is going to offer his cock to distract and warm you if it looks like you’re going to bite it off involuntarily.
October 28th, 2009
As the daughter and sister of ministers, you can imagine that being kinky and poly doesn’t come up at family dinners very often. When I was just kinky, I’d excuse it, because, really, Who talks to their family about their sex life? My bedroom is none of their business. But poly? Not sharing with my family the people that I love? It keeps things safe, keeps things stable, but is it really truthful? Am I being the true me by hiding from my family? I fear they will stop talking to me, I fear my brother will keep me away from his kids. I fear they won’t love me anymore, which I think is terribly unfair of me, even if I’m right about them not talking to me anymore. Heck, they’d probably pray for me more than they do now.
A lot of my friends know, though not all. I have a feeling a few more of them know now, after unguarded comments at a recent wedding, but people often dismiss things they don’t understand, so the comments may have not registered anyway. No one asked for clarification at least. I hide at work, too, though I have been seen kissing my boyfriend, and once called him that. But people are afraid to question what they don’t understand and not everyone knows what my husband looks like, or that I’m married.
My friends also tend to know I’m kinky, but there, too, only those that ask about such things. I feel more comfortable sharing that part of me, honestly, with them. It’s become more “normal” lately. I can show them pictures of my suspensions, and they don’t generally run away scared or get offended. I think the joy on my face helps, too. But I tend to keep stuff like that out of the public eye, off Facebook, Livejournal and in an anonymous blog here so even my kinky friends cannot find me.
I wonder what it would be like to be truly me. To be open and honest with the world. I’m considering letting more people know about the blog, it wouldn’t remain anonymous in anything but name if I did. The descriptions of events are far too specific for anyone to mistake it if they know me. I must admit, part of me wants a bigger readership, too. That writerly need for attention and validation.