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usbdongle:

having parents that were really angry and petty and abusive when you were young is weird, because it makes part of you grow up to want to be kind, to generate good things, to be a source of peace and wellbeing for others; but it makes another part of you grow up to be quick, and sharp, and spiteful, and that’s always the part that shows itself first in a hard situation, so it’s a struggle between your hateful gut reactions and your wish to not add any more misery to the world. it’s a hard balance, and the people who really, really know me – i know they see that anger flash in my eyes before i quiet it, if i quiet it…i want to overcome years of conditioning, and with gentle, constant force, i know i’ll mellow it. it just takes time.

Last night, Pup and I tried to install an air conditioner in our little bedroom window so our sweet puppy could be nice and cool while hanging out when we’re at work. I was trying to work the thing from inside the bedroom, and he was on his toes arranging it on the other side of the wall outside of our place. We’d taken the window off the track to adjust it, and in lowering the thing back down to hold the air conditioner in place, we miscommunicated and I got smacked in the chin with the window.

Both of my parents grew up in unspeakably toxic situations, and I have been told to treat this more as an explanation than an excuse. But the disagreements and behaviors I grew up with were swift and spiteful, and after learning that no amount of walking on eggshells allowed me to avoid it, I became just as “good” at those behaviors. While I’ve managed to temper it with other people, there is that old familiar muscle that still hasn’t atrophied, that makes me fly into the sort of rage that genuinely scares me where I become harsh and spiteful and every fight becomes a total scorched earth strategy. And for the briefest moment when the window hit my chin, the things I’ve put so much energy into unlearning rushed out before I managed to catch them.

I have spent a lot of my life trying to be a gentle person. I’ve built a beautiful life with a gentle person, and my other partners are also gentle people. I surround myself with people like that. I’ve learned how to treat the conflict as the issue rather than the other person as the issue. But it’s hard in those moments where that old anger comes through not to view it as something fundamental to me, rather than simply a behavior I can unlearn.

Which is to say that seeing this post was a huge relief in a lot of ways, and I wish you so much love and light on your journey.

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Overwhelmed, Part Nine

Stuff got a little fuzzy for a while. I was really subspaced. And if I haven’t driven the fact home enough, I was overwhelmed.

At one point, I was sort of on the edge of the futon and there were just hands all over me. I dipped back and when they pulled me back up, I came up crying. I wasn’t upset or scared, I didn’t want it to stop, I was just overwhelmed. I have no other way to describe it.

It was like there was just so much going on and I could barely take it all in. It was that I wasn’t used to having all the attention in a threesome directed on me by two partners. And while that makes me a little spoiled, it’s a lot to contend with. Just this unilateral attention coming from two different parties. It’s just this kind of sexy two-front war.

But Sir held me in his arms and laid down so I was lying on my back with my head against his chest. He kissed my forehead and SG moved around in front of me. 

“Let’s make her cum,” Sir said.

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“What matters most is how well you walk through the fire,” – A brilliant title of a collection Charles Bukowski’s writings and my general attitude lately.

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princesshoneycunt:

Hey, Pea, ever get the craving for a little sis to break in?