From the inscrutability of dreams to that of a Master or Mistress, huh?
Allowing yourself to follow a path that’s been opened up for you; not demanding to understand motives.. funny to see this written so soon after ‘occlusion’.
While doing our grocery shopping for the week, Mistress picked some recipes rather arbitrarily.
A nice looking bolognese (vegan), which required I go to the bottle shop after work to fetch a suitable wine for cooking.
I started cooking proper at 5.30pm; a slight pause to make up some parmesan (vegan), receive the grocery delivery, learn how to use a Swiss army knife’s corkscrew to open the bottle.
Turns out mincing half a kilo of mushrooms takes some time.
All told it’s quarter to 9pm and dinner is nearly done. I remarked to Miss how late it had gotten, and—perhaps to my surprise—she said, “next time you’ll be quicker!”
All I wanted was to be someone’s property. It really has always been that simple. Ugh!
I’m finding, more and more, that I discover things about myself in the process of serialising my consciousness into words.
Those words formed themselves without my input
and
Huh. Who knew.
It seems to me that, as long as I keep writing, keep the channel of my being open, keep making myself vulnerable (unto what? the world itself?), discovery will continue.
(And so it happens here; the first line originally came out as “[…] that I discover things about them […]”, and I am not fully sure how to understand it, other than to accept that, while in many ways a merging of identities is at play in this acceptance of my submissive, slave-ish self, my reflexive knowledge still very much applies the lens of a third party.)
Seneschal.
This can only be the first of so many titles, I take it.