I wrote just over 5,000 words on the book in two hours.  During that time I also did major reorganizing on the whole book.  And ate breakfast.  And wrote a few posts in a few places.  Last night Noah and I had a very intense conversation about what being a slave was like.  I’m getting closer to being able to write about it.  It won’t happen until after this book is done.  I’m getting so close.  45,000 words.  It’s not done.  It’s far from perfect.  It needs a lot of editing.  I want to hit at least 60,000.  8 more days.  15,000 more words.

I want to be the kind of person who gets things done.  I want to be the kind of person who really can sit down and write a book in a month.  I want to be the kind of person who completes a marathon.  I didn’t say run.  Pay attention to that word.  I may be the last person over the finish line.  I’m ok with that.  I will do it. As one step on that journey on Thursday I’m walking a 10k with a friend.  I get to start seriously running in December.  So far I’ve been half-ass running but mostly just working on being able to walk farther and farther.  I’m trying to build up to running slowly.  My knees are not used to this shit.  I don’t want to push it.

I don’t want to be famous because my father held a gun to my head and raped me.  I want that to be a small footnote in my life.  Right now that takes up too much space in my brain.  I need to find other things I want to do and talk about.  Sex is always going to be a prime topic.  But I need other tracks.  I need other roles.  Why not running?

And if I’m going to run I’m not running to get out of the house.  I’m doing it to accomplish something.  I need to have a goal.  Something big enough and hard enough that people will be impressed.  Or I won’t bother.  Because that’s just how I work.  I have to be fighting to do something uncomfortable.

That was part of why I had to leave the bdsm community the way I did.  I always have this compulsion to be the biggest bad ass.  Even if only this one small secret way I don’t tell anyone about.  I want to be the edge of the bell curve in intensity.  That’s frankly dangerous in some communities.  So after I broke up with Tom I knew I had to get the fuck out of that community.  I wouldn’t survive more intense than what I did with Tom.  I would have wanted someone who was a cocky asshole who had something to prove.  If you’ve been hanged by the neck once you don’t need to do it again.  I feel fairly certain that some day someone will fuck me with a gun.  I don’t know who or when.  That’s why I’m not in the bdsm community.  I don’t need to find that person any year soon.  I don’t need that temptation any year soon.

It’s hard knowing that I just don’t have the same attitude towards the sanctity of my life that other people have.  I want to know what else I can survive.  What else will get me off?

And I want to serve.  It will happen again some day.  I will find a way.  I will figure out what I mean when I say I am a slave.  And I will find a way to make it real in my life.  I want to be part of building something.  I want to subsume myself.  I want to make a King.