I am struck today by how much I feel as though I am drifting. This sense of floundering, unable to get a grasp on anything. Desperate for connection, desperate for something that I can’t quite articulate. I have been working on a post about my “toy bag” so to speak, but that’s difficult when, again, spanking and kink feel so far away. I don’t want to look at these things I love and cherish, touch them, take photos of them, write about them. We don’t have many and each feels special because of that, and engaging with them stings a bit right now. It also makes me think of the other ones. A ruler I bought in the Munich airport last January. A tawse (er, or two) I recently won on eBay.
Connection still feels elusive, life makes the already flickering lights of kink energy feel as though they’re going to disappear at any moment.
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