Once In A Lifetime.

List all the things that have happened to you only once in your entire life.

Holy shit. Are you fucking serious? I'm in my early forties, I don't even know if I can remember things that have happened MULTIPLE times unless it was fairly recent!

Naturally my mind immediately drifts to focusing on negative things, but there are some good ones too.

• I've only given birth once. 
• I've had only one caesarean section.
• You only get one birthday a year, therefore I've had only ONE 1st birthday, ONE 2nd birthday, ONE 3rd birthday. (You see where this may lead... haha)
• I've had ONE Master. I do not intend to ever have another and should anything happen to this one, I'll never walk this path willingly again. 
• I've successfully trained one mustang.
• There was only one horse with which I've truly connected and bonded with.
• Rodeo queen - once.
• I only moved to North Carolina once.
• I've flown one plane once in my life as the pilot (in training). 

Wow. Who knew?

Can't think of anything else at the moment, but I may revisit this topic. :)

Planning; reality & foresight.

Ahhhh Planning. How we all love to do it. No living in the moment for us! Hell no! We must PLAN our lives! It's human nature! We Plan to do everything! We think it through thoroughly! We get to "the moment..." annnnnnnnnnnd Reality kicks in and all our Planning is for nothing. Eventually we get enough experience that Foresight kicks in and we may entertain ideas and Planning, but we know that realistically, there is a high possibility of the Planning not becoming Reality.


                                    For example:



A fellow just came into my office with a tag to leave for a coworker that specified a particular plant he's got at his house. It is one of my favorites, Gaura lindheimeri, which unfortunately doesn't like to grow at the altitude at which I live. Deplorable, this. This plant is commonly known as "Whirling Butterflies." Tiny flowers at the end of long thin stalks "whirl" when there is a breeze. A desert plant, it prefers warm, dry climates with well-drained, sandy soil. It comes in white and pink.




I envision the plant with dreamy memories. My brain awakens as my Idealism begins the attempt to drag me down the Planning path, my very experienced Foresight saying, "Uhhh no. I don't think so." In self defense, my brain awakens "the Voice of Sensibility," the one that uses all of that lovely experience and combines it sensibly with realistic foresight in order to avoid planning ridiculous things and thereby talks me out of doing them? ...       Well anyway. That tiny voice in my head pipes up, "Where are you going with this Gaura bit?" I answer quickly, "Well, I'm Planning of course! I am thinking about gutting my flower beds next spring." The Voice quickly decides to shut down the Planning, shows me images of my flowerbed from this past spring, then fast-forwards to images of my flowerbeds now. Egad! The weeds! Catastrophe!

Reality slaps both of my cheeks!
    I freeze.
        I sigh.
            I realize that this year did not go at all to Plan.

Hmm. Gonna have to think about this.

The bedevilment!

Back to my inner brain conversation...
Idealism kicks back in, but sneakily, until it has full sentences with which to drown out "The Voice of Sensibility." Idealism starts by talking very quickly, "Naturally, according to Foresight, I should ACT NOW! Ahhh! Even better. Gutting that flowerbed NOW would be good. I could dig up everything weedy and be done with it!"  --- It is at this point that "The Voice" rolls its eyes, folds its arms and begins to tap a foot whilst staring ceilingward and counting to 10. Eventually, Idealism quiets down, knows it has lost the battle, and wanders down to a pond to kick a few rocks while mumbling softly under its breath. My brain & I both sigh in relief, having observed the whole thing whilst munching popcorn and fervently hoping that "The Voice" would not kill my Idealism. One cannot live thoroughly without at least a LITTLE Idealism, right?

Fabulous! Both my Idealism and I have survived so far this year!

Reality
Planning didn't get me anywhere this year, you see. I didn't do a thing with my flower beds this year at all. I didn't have the energy. It's not like NOTHING grew though. I have a few die-hard plants just blooming wildly, growing happily in the sun-baked clay. And look! Just this weekend, a friend told me that I have a lovely crop of weeds! ---- Hrm. Uh. Yeah. Well.... Honestly yeah, I didn't manage to raise my energy this year. I didn't manage anything but survival, however I believe that was quite an accomplishment in itself. It has been a strange year!

As I said, though, in Reality, I managed survival, which is a great accomplishment!

There are people out there for whom "Survival" isn't good enough. Just a quick peek, let's look at how Planning, Reality and Foresight affect some people in "the Real World." (Humor me as I digress, please)

According to the everyday practicing witch or Pagan, the last day of the year is October 31st, Samhain. The New Year is brought in by Dia de los Muertos, a celebration of family, memories, & ancestors. Dia de los Muertos is the current Mexican version of a very very old ritual with many names that spreads across many religions, both Christian and Pagan. Look up Bon Festival, Chuseok, Qingming, Gai Jatra, All Saints Day, etc. A few of them take place at different times of the year, however. How do the Christians feel about it? Well of course anyone who is not Christian is going to burn in hell. It's not Planning. It's not Foresight. It's their idea of Reality. Scary!






Strange how the embrace of Death is thought to be horribly unnatural by practicing Christians. Unlike Islamic religions, there is no honor involved in dying nor in the method of death for the whole of Christianity. Death is feared! Death, the Grim Reaper, quite often is equated with one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, as riding a pale horse or a black horse. Wellllll nowwwww, that's a Planning of sorts, is it not? Christians rely on biblical readings in order to Plan their lives. They Plan to "be good" and with Foresight, realize they are merely human, and since Hell is a Reality to them, they spend their lives terrified of doing anything wrong. So much for The Human Condition.

What is so terrible about death? Death is the great equalizer. Everyone dies. Christianity shuns dying and death with terror. But then, organized religion shuns everything not within its complete control. An "afterlife" of sorts is looked upon favorably, as no one has proof and therefore no control over the idea of such a thing. Death itself in the Christian view seems very negative and laced with fear. The process of dying is riddled with horrors of all sorts. The only thing that Christians Plan for is Heaven. AFTER life on this earth... they are Planning for something AFTER this. Not this reality. Not this NOW time. They spend their lives Planning for something about which they have no proof! *face palm*






I suppose a great deal of Christian's fear is based on the belief in hell. How sad for them. I'm sure Dante's Inferno (Divine Comedy) didn't help. Damn that Dante! Everlasting torture... there's some Planning for you. The perfect "Eternal One" had the Foresight to see humanity was going to act more horribly than two-year-old children throwing eternal tantrums, so of course god Planned a place for humanity to be tortured and burned forever based on ridiculous rules that got even more ridiculous over the years.

SOMEONE'S REALITY!

Atheists, well we don't worry at all. LOL! You live. You make the most of the time you have. You die. Nobody knows when. It's the most simple view, quite honestly. For me it is the only sensible view.  Oh how I like playing with wicca, but I can never believe goddess or god exist anywhere in any form other than within our own selves. To believe otherwise is senseless and cruel.







But back to my garden and how my brain works. Do you see the pattern? I'm chugging along with a thought that melts and reforms into another one... and

      Alas!

             I have shifted too many directions to stay on one solid sensible path!

You see where my ideas go. I come across something... Behold! An idea! I begin to plan. "I'll take out the flowerbed plants that should be shifted elsewhere and do just that, then replant with new stuff! Or at the very least, I'll weed!" Then something comes along... and I get distracted by Reality. All the dreams and planning turn to fluff.

Fortunately...
-- I have gained much foresight from my experiencesm thus I acknowledge that odd thinking cycle exists and that life plays with me quite roughly.

Such is life for any one of us. I tell you this!

I will survive!

Being Grateful and Taking it Easy

I had an appointment this morning with my son's counselor for educational planning. I was there half an hour early, having been stressed enough to forget the actual time of the meeting, and having not looked at the reminder paper before leaving for the appointment. In the parking lot, a young woman was tearfully waiting, her cell phone to her ear. I couldn't read her look, but then she is a teen and it is difficult to read them sometimes with the gamut of emotion that they have daily. As I walked into the building, a vehicle pulled up and the young lady got in. Once in the office, her mother finally appeared, explaining the medical reason for her daughter being pulled out of school.

I realize during the discussion how scary it must be for that parent, when her child has such medical problems. The girl then walked in to be with her mother. I mentioned to the girl to look up a particular herb that should help her. After the girl left, one of the office secretaries and I ended up in a discussion about herbology & herbal treatments for the condition, as the secretary herself seems to be suffering from the same problem. A brief amusement ensued as we laughed about 4 year planning when each of us live day-by-day and sometimes minute-to-minute. It depends on the stress level...

Being half an hour early had an advantage for a giver such as myself. Long interest in herbology and the study and application of medicinal herbs gave me incentive. I took the extra time remaining to zip on down to the local organic market and picked up some of this herb for her in loose form in a jar with teabags to steep, a tincture, and a pill form. She wanted to pay me and I refused, stating that the payment would be finding out if it worked for her. I really am supposed to let folks pay me for things like this, but she didn't ask me to get those things and truly it will be worth it to find out if those things do the trick for her. (Yeah yeah I know. I'll do without something of my own now...)

The appointment began and though a lot of talking about nonsense ensued, it was certainly different in that during last year's appointment, my son sat with folded arms in silence with one word replies. This time he was animated and happy and the difference for both the counselor and I was such a relief!

After the appointment, an acquaintance was seated in the office. I asked if his appointment for planning was next. He said he was pulling his child out of school to go to the doctor in a larger town, a specialist. A bit more information and I discovered his fear is that his child has skin cancer. I wished him luck and left, passing a man who also came to pull his child out of school for a moment just to give a daily diabetic shot.

I walked out of that building. It occurred to me that my problems are small. Very small. I may have my moments, living from minute-to-minute, and this month has been no small test so far, with many more tests in sight. At least I can see what I am facing. The poor man who is taking his child to the specialist in another town has no idea what he's facing. It could be life threatening, financially impossible, or very very simple. At that moment, as I looked at the gorgeous rich blue of the sky, the golden leaves of the Catalpa trees, the cool deep forest green of a spruce, and smelled the clean air... at that moment I realized I have it easy! I really do! Life hasn't handed me a whole bunch of terrible shit! Life has given me a fairly easy path to walk! Really. We aren't ill. We don't have life threatening diseases, or diseases of such expense that we cannot afford to keep our house. We don't have bill collectors breathing down our necks because of unpaid bills. Hell, I got this shit handled! I'm on TOP of this shit! We're good! We got our health and we got each other!

Yeah yeah. I know. A little while later and I'm very glad for my Xanax as I think about my vision problem, the doctor appointment where they'll probably still tell me 'No,' the cost of boarding my dogs and what the hell to do with the birds in a cat infested house of relatives I am to stay with who are very religious and whom I haven't seen for years, my dog that pees in the house that is also an absolute cuddlebug who is devoted to me, and the fact that my husband is still not in this country and my son wants to go into the military in the biggest fighting force in the world that the rest of the world uses as fodder in every battle they wish to get into over corporations and greed.

Hmph. I sound like Gloom & Doom again. It's all fear, you know. Fear of the unknown.

The fear of the unknown motivates us all. We get up every day with the fear that if we don't go to work and make money, we will not be able to pay our bills, and then we don't really know what will happen. Bankruptcy? Losing it all and living on the street? Large unknowns really make people move a lot. We squirm, we complain, we get moving and do it all anyway. What would we be doing with ourselves if we didn't have this financial structure set up to work within? Would we all be thinkers? Dreamers? Traders? Would there be Camaro's and Lamborghini's and 4.2 billion dollar Hollywood mansions? Would there be a Pussy Riot or Disturbed or even Lady Gaga? Would there be war? How about religion?

Meh. It's all meh. Death and taxes are the only absolutes. For once, I would like to just accept that and move on, not fight tooth and nail against everything I abhor. It may be my nature to fight, but I'm so tired of fighting I just want to LIVE now.

One day at a time.

Torn by the past & taking responsibility.

One of my deepest fears is that I will end up walking the old path - to nobody's detriment but my own. I am obviously submissive and it is hard for me to open up to anyone, really. In the past I was able to tell anyone anything, but over the years it seems my fighting strength has either been sapped by time or by motherhood and the instinct to not fight in order to protect my son.

The old path...
It is no secret that my mother was a tyrant. We "walked on eggshells" around her. This simply means we were VERY careful in what we said and did in order to not upset her. An upset mother meant one thing, anger. Her anger burnt hot and vengeful. She had no problems taking her rage out on us, but Dad & I were her alternating favorites for venting. When Dad would get pissed and leave, I couldn't because I was a kid so I took the brunt of it when he was gone. I learned early on to keep my mouth shut. We weren't allowed emotions and I was full of them.

These days...
What I learned was a passive aggressive response of watching and biding my time. When someone fucks up, I kick them to the curb. Now, I'm here to tell you... this doesn't work in marriages. It ends marriages right damn fast. I SURE won't work in a Master/slave relationship and perhaps this is one of the draws of slavery for me. It means that no matter what stupid shit I might want, it will not be allowed... or will it.

What happens if I say something stupid and hurtful to my Master? I have had this false idea that Masters own a slave forever, like a kajira. A kajira is property to be punished at His will. Well, I've had that false idea shattered. So many Masters abandoning slaves after what has been presented as a minor digression of a slave or else the Master has moved on to someone else after weeks/months of lying to his slave. I'm terrified.

I suppose I should expound on what I mean by "saying something stupid and hurtful." Well here. In my last marriage, it was shattered by my fury as I proclaimed that he was a coward (truth) for not defending me from other male's advances or against his own mother's hateful sarcasm. During the marriage I had alluded to those things, but I don't think he ever really understood just how much those things bothered me. In my female mind, mentioning it alone should have been enough. Men don't work that way. They miss subtleties. Men require direct language (without hostility) and direct action (without force or hurtfulness) in order to get a point across. I get that now.

Except I'm not male. In my heart of hearts, I love this man, my Master, like no other. Still I am filled with the fear of my own screwups, that I will do something or say something to break the ties that bind us. It would be a moment of sheer stupidity. It would be a moment of pure fear, or pure rage, the terror of what is happening around me breaking me so that I choose the wrong thing out of the need for relief (trying to break up with him on a cell phone) or such rage that I am willing to break and burn it all (fury at Ron for his cowardice over the years, unanswered by my questions of why didn't he stand by me, why didn't he say something... hearing all those, "I don't knows" echoing in my head with no further words beyond the pain of betrayal in my heart and soul.)

I love this man. I pray that his Masterly skills will outdo any of my female idiocy. I pray that his Masterly strength and his love for me will remain strong, pure and unbroken by my eventual fear and hostility in any given situation. I am lesser, you see. I am not as strong. I am full of emotion and fear. He is my pillar of strength, but I cannot fully release all of my fear. All around me I see those male pillars of strength walking away for another woman, leaving the current female to agony and dust. I cannot take another betrayal. Neither can I live with fear in my heart.

Just the other day, I read that it is wrong to not trust in a relationship, that is akin to a sin and evil. That it is purely choice to not trust and to not forgive. That it is purely choice to hold onto trust issues from the past when in a new relationship. Well fuck me. I guess I'm a sinful evil bitch then, because I truly cannot figure out how to trust with all these ghosts in my head.

Do you not find it odd that we are supposed to learn from our past, but we are not supposed to be ruled by it? How can one learn, learning the feeling of betrayal, and then learn to not worry when a new situation presents itself with the same potential end? Of course we worry! That is what makes us human! I am told that I should not worry. Well I'm sorry, but I do. I'm told I should not feel fear. Well, I'm sorry, but the past and the lessons learned were learned well and with a lot of pain and I cannot seem to move back into the zone of full trust. How CAN one move into a zone of full trust after having learned lessons of betrayal? It is like moving backwards. It is like asking one to have white cloth after adding red dye. Only bleach can scour the cloth white, and even then it eats at the fabric, the strength of the fabric is forever compromised.

Trust is broken, not rebuildable into the same thing, much like a broken cup. You can glue it together, but it is not the same. I fail to see why this should only apply to one relationship, but not all of them. Do we not learn?? Are our reactions any less plausible for our learning because it is a new relationship?

"A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions." - Oliver Wendell Holmes

So I sit here, closer to the day my Master will be here. I feel anxious. Terribly anxious. I SO look forward to his coming. I worry that we will fall into a regular pattern and things will be lost. I cannot, oh I cannot have that happen. It is like him telling me, "Don't stop touching me." Well I cannot lose the precious closeness between us. I cannot be relegated to a secondary thing, else I question everything and then I begin to hide myself.

I worry about making these posts. These posts show into my mind, show my fears and my worries. Many times, Master addresses them immediately. I ask you, Master, please not today. I am fragile today. I believe I will refill my Xanax. I feel a tremendous amount of pressure and it is from so many things happening at once.

Yet what happens if I cannot tell him face-to-face how I feel. I cannot let it build like I did before. Oh I did, but I didn't. I told them all, but they did not listen. It had to be the way I was telling them. HAD TO BE. It cannot be that four males in a row refused to hear me, refused to take me seriously. It just can't be... people aren't that harmful. It HAS to be something I'm doing.

WHAT IS IT?!?!?!?! How do I not do it now?????

OK that's enough circles. I have to stop today. It is clear that I am fractured in all of my thinking today.

I love you, Maître. Please be gentle with me today. I am already on the verge of tears.

Closure

It is odd how things go. It's strange how quickly things can change. I have never been good at letting things go that hurt me in the past, nor have I been good at forgiving and forgetting. I am not bitchy to these people who hurt me unless they pull attitude with me, but I keep in the forefront of my mind what they did and whether or not they are trustworthy.

Trustworthy... well I have to say I have met very few who are 100% trustworthy. I don't even trust myself that much! There are different levels of trust, and different areas of trust. For example, my pedophile uncle is excellent at fixing cars, dishwashers, air conditioners, electric lines... would I trust him to fix those things? Yes. Would I trust him with a girl child? Oh hell no.  My first ex-husband is a wonderful humanitarian out doing things in the world for the poor. Would I trust him with my friendship? Oh hell no. My second husband is a hard worker with an absolutely hilarious sense of humor. Would I trust him enough to relax my vigiliance regarding his time with our son? Oh hell no. And so it goes.

I can live side-by-side with these people and keep up my guard forever. Not a problem, did it my whole life. In this way, forgiving and forgetting would be a hindrance as I would then relax my guard and trust where I should not.

So what to do when a person finally acknowledges they did something stupid and hurt me?

In a few moments, 30 minutes to be exact, a conversation was held today regarding something stupid a person did that hurt me. I've been tentative friends with her for a while now, but haven't trusted her with my full friendship. I will probably still be very careful around her, but the apology sure helped. First, she acknowledged that she had been each of three different types of people in my life: one who helped during my difficult times, one who walked away when I needed help during difficult times, and one who put me into difficult times. She apologized for being a dumbass. At that moment, I realized that she isn't the type of person who would deliberately hurt another and that she probably had some things going on in her own life at those times and she could not handle any more. At the very end, she apologized for hurting me. I thanked her. This is the first we've spoken of this issue.

Part of me feels as if the world got a little brighter and more beautiful. Part of me is quiet and not sure what to think. Part of me has its guard up, the watchful one, always watching and guarding me, like a big tigress.

I've been waiting for this, unwilling to bring it up, knowing that with people you must wait for them to be ready and there is no forcing them into anything at all. If you try to force, then anything you get will not be genuine. If you wait, they will open up like a little flower and if you shine your light upon them instead of giving them a bloody sword, then they will open up the rest of the way.

Most of the time, the way of the sword is too easy. I never took the easy road a day in my life. I don't intend to start now.

What to do with this apology of hers... processing....

50 Shades of WHAT???

Look, I haven't read this book. I'm probably not going to read this book. There. I admitted it. It's not that the book wouldn't turn me on, I bet it would. But this isn't a critique of a book... it's a critique of the reactions generated...

A little history...
I didn't know a damn thing about the bondage world until three things happened. First off, I saw a little magazine advertising bondage supplies, you know, handcuffs, spreader bars and the like. Second, I read, "The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty," written by Anne Rice under the pseudonym of A. N. Roquelaure, and I discovered that I wasn't fucked up, I wasn't alone in this, there are others with such desires. Finally, I found my Master under terms that were strictly gaming partners followed by vanilla, and in a moment of jealousy I asked, "Just who is this EmeraldWolf?" Naturally, he explained that he had Dommed her for a bit. I had three reactions to that, by the way: Extreme jealousy, intense curiosity and the birthing of excitement.

Had I not found those books, which are wildly unrealistic in terms of real life D/s and M/s relationships, I would not have had a CLUE what he meant and I may not have questioned further. You see, my first husband caught me looking at that little magazine with my morbid fascination of those bondage devices, ripped it out of my hands and told me I didn't need that and that's not something I needed to be looking at. I felt shame and guilt. In a moment, my interest and related desire became a dark secret that burned within my skeleton-filled closet of wanton shame. It is rare for me to talk about sex, rarer still for me to open up about such desires as I have. One does not comprehend that one might find another individual who holds similar interests in the sexual deviancy field... one only hopes that one can keep such desires secret and not act upon them.

Suffice it to say that I grew up in a close-minded, close-mouthed world when it came to sexuality, let alone anything resembling BDSM. Though the Sleeping Beauty trilogy held impossible things within its lusty pages, it opened my mind up to possibilities previously unknown to me, and let me grasp my darkest desires firmly in both hands. I am a willful girl, a rebel, always fighting, always fighting... I will only ever submit to one man, my Master, Marc. I will never submit to another and never have previously. I will hold onto my dreams one way or another, and should they burn, they will rise from the ashes like a phoenix as my dreams tend to do.

I wouldn't have had those dreams without the knowledge and imagination in those pages, ohhhh Anne Rice writes so provocatively! Did I REALLY think that it was a good idea for someone to hang me up, paint honey on my twat, then let flies crawl all over it? Hell no! But what an image!

I imagine there was a furor over the Sleeping Beauty series, oh so long ago when it came out. There have been a few sarcastic references it over the years in TSR and Fetlife. BDSM folk hate those books, stating that it creates an unrealistic idea in the minds of would-be subs and Doms both, and that just causes problems in the BDSM world. But they forget, we were all so naive at one time. None of us were born with the knowledge of how to go about creating and participating in BDSM. We were taught, every single one of us. Not only were we taught, but we read, we watched, and still we each felt along, felt through our own way until we found what we each want for ourselves in such an arrangement. I, for one, could not possibly adhere to a life of a 24/7 slave who only serves in physical chores, never leaves the house, and has no sexual contact. I could not, I would not. But I know of those who do, some of whom have been doing that for decades and are perfectly happy with the arrangement. What about kajirae who believe in their hearts that men are dominant in every way, including intelligence, and to be served by women, no matter what man stands before them? Who am I to tell those folks that my way is the only right way? Well that's because it's not, see... it's only right for me. Just as their way is right for them and not for me.

So I see all of this bitching and complaining about 50 Shades of Grey now. I have some curiosity in reading it, but probably won't due to the hype. I have my own relationship and I don't need any more questions or distractions at this time. Maybe later. But complaining about it as if it's a handbook written by the devil himself? I don't see what all the fuss is about, truly!

50 Shades of Grey has opened up a new field for many women and men who were previously blind to the world of bondage. Not many will pick up a book on Gor these days, they're too hard to find. Not many will pick up an old Anne Rice book when all they think of is vampires when they see her name. Even if it is A.N. Roquelaure as the author, they now mention that it is a pseudonym for Anne Rice. With the latest flurry of sexual and intimate books with vampire, wereanimal and other paranormal characters, who's gonna go find an old Anne Rice book? Nope. 50 Shades of Grey it had to be. And what a smashing success! So many new people on the scene who are making it into fetlife and learning! They are learning they are not alone! They are learning that yes! There are even CLASSES about how to tie people up! They are (hopefully) learning safety! They are learning that there are rules. They are learning that there is no ONE RIGHT WAY to do this, that their own desires dictate the relationship and rules within their new path.

I had to remind myself the other day of this... that there is no "one right way." I have a friend who is a Domme, and she was complaining on FB about a male telling her that it's not all about her. She retaliated by telling him that yes, SHE is the Domme and it IS all about her. Well, that's not what I learned, but I've seen enough to know that yes, there are dominants out there who could give a shit less about what the sub wants, only wanting to use and abuse... and there are subs who want that too. Who am I to tell her that's wrong? She IS inexperienced, and she will find that if she limits herself, it is more difficult to find a play partner, let alone a lifetime commitment. But I digress.

The point is, I see the BDSM community split on this 50 Shades issue; some of them love the books and some of them hate the books. The ones who love them love the ideas within them and love how the book makes them feel. The ones who hate the books say that they are misleading and probably causing all sorts of danger and damage to women out in the world. Possibly. But so is the Bible. *arched brow* Think of entire tribes of men, women AND children laid to waste over an idea that there is only one right way.

Without launching into a religious rhetoric, I shall simply say this. 50 Shades of Grey is an eye opener for those who wish to open their eyes and learn more. It is a relief for those who have their closets full of skeletons and demons to learn that they really aren't bad or evil, and there are other people out there like them.

For those of you who don't like the book, do not read it. If you feel it promotes bad things, then stop bitching, get out there and TEACH so people can learn.

For those of you who love the book, welcome! Learn well, go to Fetlife read as much as you can! Take a Shibari class! Find out what a munch is, find one and go to it! There is a lot of information out there! Welcome home!