In the midst of getting myself off, sometimes my mind wanders. This is part of the reason I use carefully screened pr0n. Once I’ve impassively screened a clip / scene / CD, verified that there isn’t anything that would gross me the fuck out, it goes into a Safe Spank Bank and is approved for perfunctory masturbatory fodder.
This is so that I don’t wind up having to safeword on myself.
Because sometimes? If I don’tÂ manageÂ my mental committee? Â I wind up in the midst of an orgasm, ramping up to finish up and having the last ten seconds consist of thoughts that ought never ever see the light of day taking over and unspooling themselves in some sort of ugly non-consensual goreographic open-eyed nightmare.
And no, I’m not going to describe them. I’ve been Manifesting shit way, way too easily of late.
My brain manages to surprise me over and over again.
Occasionally, and with increasing frequency, I find myself having fantasies about scenarios or situations that…actually? I find problematic.
It is kind of strange, because I am open to hearing pretty much anything from anyone. And I am great about respecting my own limits But how does it become that a part of myÂ (id?) comes up with horrifying scenarios, sets up the projector and plays them in full color while the rest of my soul screams and runs in circles, appalled and furious that I’m having these thoughts?
IÂ know that there are people and situations I absolutely do not find safe or acceptable. And on the surface? I’m very respectful of my limits.
The emotional masochist, silently digging with a worn spoon at the walls I set up to keep me safe occasionally finds a weak spot and grimly breaks through. Abandonment, emotional abuse. Real damage and gut-level hard limits seem so seductive in those moments. Then I wonder if I’d give inÂ “…just to see what might happen…you will never know unless you try, right…?”
When I was a kid, I used to hold on tight to the pillars on the subway platform when the train rolled in. My Mom, attributing this to yet another of her child’s strangenesses, finally asked me why I did. I told her “It is so I don’t jump!”
Some days, though? I don’t want hold on. I want to be damaged and broken.
And I want toÂ SURVIVE the collision.