Hello dear reader(s)!
Because of the continuing tendency for people who know me to read too much into my fiction and then ask me about things in it like the stories are some window into my secret life, (which is actually quite boring, and not secret), I have decided to never again tell the 100% in truth in all posts, even update style posts like this one here. Or have I?
I just got tired of people who care that much about things like I am keeping some sort of secrets. Or did I? I am very open about my life and simply can’t believe that people have nothing better to do than to speculate about the one or two gaps I haven’t filled in. Or can I? What is left to say? I am in a relationship, long distance. I have been with her twice in person thanks to my trip. She is a friend of my framily (friends who are family, I have gone over this), and is one of the many reasons I am moving. Or is she?
What’s left to say?
I am not going to tell you her real name, sorry. She has a stalker, and is just more of a private person than I am. Why do you care? Just because she is famous, why should it matter? I don’t understand why who I am dating is so important to you. And so what if she is the leader of a sex cult? That’s her business, my business, and the business of her many other lovers and servants. What do you care?
My life is my own. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to read about it. But I have to write about it. I have no choice. The deal I made to keep my soul (signed in blood) requires it. I share it on my Facebook and social media for my non- judgmental friends, not for you pricks. If you care that much about what is up with me, chances are you might be someone who could just fucking ask. And if I tell you that it is none of your fucking business, I guarantee you won’t find the truth in the stories I write. Or will you?
But in the updates? I am very honest. Don’t believe me? Let’s go over today.
I woke up this morning with a hard-on after some very naughty dreams that were, quite frankly, fucking hot. I considered taking care of it, but I have not gotten permission from my Goddess on this day, so I just went pee instead, arching over the wall behind the toilet so that I wouldn’t miss. Then I decided to sneak out of the apartment naked so that I could perform my sacrificial offering to my Goddess and take the required pictures of my devotion. I will not go over the details of the offering ritual, but will tell you that nothing innocent was harmed in the process, but many of the guilty were. After that, I made my way back into the apartment, (hiding behind trees for cover), in order to send the pictures as proof of my loyalty along with a sweet good morning message. Then I messaged with my framily, (who are also lovers and servants of my Goddess), and talked with them about other ways we could prove our worth. I then fed my kitties and made my coffee.
After making my coffee, I made a bagel, but sliced open my finger while trying to cut it open. I washed it off, sprayed it with Bactine, applied the tears of a newborn, and put on a Band-Aid. Then I finished making my bagel and brought them both to the living room so that I could enjoy it while watching my favorite television show, Touched By An Angel. Then I thought about the people who must get triggered by that show, remembering all the times they were touched by an angel, and I cried for them. Afterward, I stepped out onto the balcony to masturbate to those thoughts and came back in to find an old girlfriend had let herself in.
After the struggle for the gun, and the apologies to the neighbors and police for the accidental discharge while disarming her, I made her pledge her allegiance to my Goddess before taking her to my bathtub for sacrifice. Then I changed my mind about the sacrifice, knowing that my Goddess would not be pleased with that action, and told her to leave and find other ways to serve my Goddess, none of which involve being a lover as my Goddess is currently saturated until one of us displeases her.
After banishing her from my apartment, I sat down on the couch to read up on the current goings on around the world that are hidden from those without the ability to see the binding energy the Goddess provides. I chanted my favorite chant to her that goes, “Dea, Dea, Dea, Lingent mea penis, Gratias tibi” 5 times while flogging my back. Then I turned on First Take to be annoyed awake by Stephen A. Smith, finished all my coffee, and decided to blog.
See? Totally open about my boring, and regular life.
Now, can you please just quit reading in when I call something fiction?
How is your morning going? Hopefully more interesting than mine.