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photography, Kitti, art, me, kink

Kitti, the Unstoppable Hex Machine

...and a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries...

photography, Kitti, art, me, kink
I am beginning to remember why I was a commitment-phobe in the first place.

That horrible sinking feeling you get when the person who has spent the last few weeks claiming to adore you, just goes offline and then does not answer his texts.

When I was polygamous, I never worried about such things, I just carried on as usual and found some other person to amuse me.... now I am bound to one specific person, what do I do when he runs off like this? Of course when something happens for which we have no explanation, we always start thinking the worst. He's gone back to his ex; he's decided he doesn't love me after all and it was just a big rebound; he's heard some kind of viscous rumour about me and now will never speak to me again. These things are all running through my head now and making me want to reach for the whiskey and the blades.

This is insecurity at it's finest. Insecurity is irrational, mostly... but my insecurity is based on past experiences. Lots of cases where men have sworn to adore me and hurt me forever if I would just worship them, and I do.... and then they just get bored, somehow.

I would like to think that Troi is not one of these... After all, he did spend months trying to get me to abandon my independence and start this entire monogamy thing up again.... but it is entirely possible that now he's won me, there's nothing more for him.

Oh, I miss my Masters. Adrian and Fayth always knew exactly what to say to stop me fretting like this. That, and they were almost always contactable if I needed them. I'm a damn fool for giving them up.... I just couldn't handle the kids. I'll most likely make a terrible mother, so what's the use of monogamy anyway? I miss my Masters so much :-(

K xx

The Great Conjunction
"The Great Conjunction is the end of the world! Or, the beginning"

This weekend something amazing happened. A person I would never have thought powerful enough in a million years, has taken me and broken all my barriers one by one. He has changed me, I hope for the better.

I have abandoned a good deal of my previous beliefs and fears, and replaced them with hope, and (of all things) trust. His name is Troi and he is mine. I am also his. He seems to have found me in my own dark little enclosure, slowly cutting myself off from anyone and everyone that would dare to get close to me, and he has brought me back into the light.

Monogamy now seems to be the name of the game, and where before I found this horiffic, frightening, and boring... with him, it is none of these things. I still have the bruises he gave me last week, and yet I know he will always care for me and protect me. He refuses to be called my Master, although I know in my heart that is what he is, and I will serve him until such time as he gets bored of me and lets me go.

The crazy thing is, I am happy. My entire career and home life is falling apart around me and I am *still* happy. I could be sacked and evicted tomorrow but I know it would all be ok because I would still have him. This is a feeling I have not felt for at least 5 years... maybe more.

I miss him intensely at all times, and this is totally bittersweet because thinking of him still puts a smile on my face, even though it hurts to be away from him - which is, unfortunately, most of the time.

I am falling, definitely, at an alarming rate... and all because an ex friend begged me to take away her "stalker fuckbuddy". Heh...

Tangled webs FTW.

Kit xx

Emotional Masochism?
photography, Kitti, art, me, kink
Why do I continue to torture myself?
What is it that makes me totally obsessed with a person that I can't be with? Well.. I could be, if I chose to be, but I just can't deal with the celibacy thing. Sex is far more important to me than love (and yes, I know that's not normal and I have issues. Go tell someone that cares)
I guess I just wish that he could be kinda celibate, and also happy with the polygamy thing. That would rock. Everybody wins! Unfortunately, I'm not sure "everybody wins" situations even actually exist.

I continue to plague myself (using fucking Facebook, of all tools) seeing what an amzing time he's having with his "best friend" [uber controlling skank], and just hating myself for leaving... then hating myself even more for being addicted to sex and allergic to commitment, and therefore unable to love in any true capacity.

Maybe I should have just stayed locked up when I was 15, instead of lying and decieving my way out of there when I wasn't truly sorry, or less suicidal at all. I'm still not, in fact... I've just become a fuck of a lot more realistic.

Why do I feel like I'm in love with him, if he isn't everything I want?
Why do I feel so epicly strongly about someone who wasn't even that torn up when I gave him the "let's be just friends" talk, and not so strongly about a man who obviously adores me and would do absolutely anything for me? Am I completely and totally backwards? Why do I always ALWAYS choose the pain and struggle, over the pleasure and ease?

Most importantly... why did I even entertain the thought of real love again? Love's never, ever done me good. It has always hurt and changed me into a person I despise - a jealous, suspicious person. A person that hates, deeply. I hate this friend of his for originally turning him down as a boyfriend and then becoming his best friend. I hate her for being more important to him than I was, and I hate that she knows this, gets off on it, and uses it to manipulate him. I hate that she is aware of his aversion to sex and realising that becoming his friend was a much better idea than becoming his girlfriend, and I hate most that I didn't see that too.
Moreover, I hate myself for hating her, for all these reasons.
I hate that I have allowed myself to hate again.
I hate that it's keeping me from sleep.

Chuck Palahniuk was right. The one you love, and the one who loves you are never, ever, the same person.

I need to get over this, already. I have this amazing boyfriend, who lets me run around the country being hurt and adored by deviants, and still allows me to come home to him, and looks after me. Why this obsession for a silly musician that doesn't even want to fuck me, and wants to keep me from the spontaneous and rather brilliant things I'm experiencing currently?
I don't understand myself on this one, and that is why it's so difficult for me to let it go! If I knew why I feel this way, I could cut it off at the source.

All I am, all I have ever been (since about aged 9) is a fucked up little addict... and miles away, in my fair city, is a person who is willing to give me the world, and accepts me for the head case that I am. Sex addict, attention whore, almost permanently inebriated, commitmentphobe, idiotic masochist, self harmer, dormant suicidal tendencies with lingering histrionic flashbacks, bipolar, and probably, most likely PTSD. All this I am, and all this he loves.
I must be a fucking idiot to not want to be with him every second - but I just don't.

I hate that, too.

All I want is to live fast. It's all I've ever wanted. Most of the reason I want to lose weight is so I can start exotic dancing again. This life is for me, and I am of it. Perhaps that's why I always go for the pain. I have always belonged to chaos.

K xxx

Bad Kitti x

Can't sleep. Crazy, crazy headspace.

Yoga failed.

Am back to whiskey, porn, and blades again....

That's the thing about addiction - I'm not sure I ever, ever full recover from anything. Except the needles. The needles I will never go back to, and I know that.

God damn... why do I always think my own blood is so beautiful? It is always the perfect complimentary colour to my skin tone.

Yes, I am aware that I need help. I am aware that I'm fucked right up... but it seems no matter how hard I try, I just can't.fucking.stop.this. For longer than about 3 months at a time, anyway.


K xx

photography, Kitti, art, me, kink
It appears this is my first entry in over six months.

Much has happened.

I'm still deeply embedded, out of water, in the 'shire.
I now, however, have a job that I like, and that challenges me mentally (and sometimes emotionally)
I've made *some* friends... although being a sex addict, have managed to alienate the hot ones by sleeping with them and then denying them a "deeper, more meaningful (boring)" relationship
Mother and I have a better relationship now. She's currently in hospital trying to fight Death at all costs. Bless her x
My sister and I are.... strange, currently.

That last one - I'm slightly bemused by. What is it that one does, exactly, when one finds the boyfriend of one's sister actively trolling dating sites? Yet worse - actively trolling my fucking housemates?! I told her, of course. She looked up the profile and promptly decided I was mistaken and someone else is using his photographs (cha... like someone would falsely use photos of a bald, fat fuck in order to get laid) Denial really is just a rose-coloured Egyptian river to her... poor little mite x

I, of course, find myself swimming (yet a-fucking-gain) in a sea of cock, with absolutely no direction whatsoever!
I love Stevie, I do... I just cannot do monogamy anymore! It actually sickens me to think that, for a while there, I was actually dreaming of the house, the husband, the car, the kids... GAH!! That life is totally not for me, and while I am aware that I may have coersed Stevie into that way of future-thought... I have to snap him right out of it. I was made to fuck. Vigourously and without limit! So nyer nyer nyer :-p

On that note, I'm going to bed.

Kit xxx

photography, Kitti, art, me, kink
I hoped this wouldn't be the case, but I still thought it might.

Even on the day I leave, as I'm packing, she is still insulting me. Still proving that she knows absolutely nothing about me; about my friends; about my life and the way I see things.

Still she calls me selfish, and refuses to believe that the only reason I came back here was to be near her.

I guess that's decided it for definite then. I no longer have a mother. I had hoped it would have been death that actually took her out of my life, and not her own will... but at least now I can go home to people who love me by choice, not just because they squeezed me out.

Another good thing to come of this now is that I know exactly how strong I am. Throughout it all, I have not cut; I have not snorted; and I have only drank one or two drinks of an evening - sometimes not drunk any alcohol at all. This entire situation was a major stressor and I know nobody would have blamed me if I happened to relapse - but I didn't. This means that I have a future. Perhaps I even have a destiny beyond my body being found on the floor of a bathroom of some squat - skin and bone, and puncture marks, and not much else. Maybe I really can make something of myself, but first, I have to get home.

"Home, with my thoughts escapin'
Home, where my music's playin'
Home, where my love lies waitin' silently for me".

Kit xxx

Fly By Night
Thank you, Geddy Lee.

"Fly by night, away from here.
Change my life again
Fly by night, goodbye my dear
She felt it comin' and I just can't pretend".

Looks like years of post-natal depression and resentment has just come out in one solid wave of emotion. I am, it appears, the terrible person I always thought I was. I am a bad daughter, I am selfish, I've never lifted a finger to do anything for my mother, and she only kept me around because I was my Father's favorite. After 23 years of lies, it's finally come out. I am hated - I have always been hated - so there is more reason for my mental issues than I ever realised.

So, after sacrificing my freedom, left the only place that ever felt like home to me, returned to a cold, dead, and moronic town that I have always hated. All this I did purely to be near to her, help her, and make her days a little less painful, and her mind a little less worried. I wanted to better myself, and give something back. I gave up everything I loved just for her, and now I find that I really needn't have bothered. Well, thank you, Captain Hindsight!

See, ordinarily, this would be a perfect cut-and-dry situation. I would pack as big as bag as I could find. Strap my favorite guitar on my back, sell the others, and get straight on a train back home to Brighton. Unfortunately, I absolutely adore my new job. I also really can't leave my PC behind. Stevie gave me this PC, and I love it so much. It would be both stupid and selfish to think that I could just turn up in Brighton and people would look after me. I mean - they would, but it's not fair to assume that. Yes, I need to leave here, and the relationship between myself and my mother may never be properly repaired, but for now, I have to trust my instincts and do what I came here to do. Better myself, become a person that is not only loved by others, but that loves herself, too. I don't need her to like me in order to like myself. That one is all on me.

So, here I stay. I already have somewhere to go, as soon as the current occupant packs her stuff and gets the fuck out. The strange thing is, although the tears are streaming, I'm calm. I'm silent, thoughtful, and I actually feel free. She's pushed me so far and so fast that when I reached the edge, I actually flew. Now I have wings.

I better savour it. This is really going to hurt in he morning.

Kit xxx

photography, Kitti, art, me, kink
Stupidity is my lot.

Why do I continue to wear my heart on my sleeve? Just because a person is kind to me one day, does not mean that they will not see me hanged by my own entrails the next.

Yes, it's amazing that he is back. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect such a thing to happen. To be honest, I had expected an Artist's death... drowned in a pool of my own vomit, surrounded by cats and the remains of class A drugs.

I don't want to play his little game. If I ask a question, I expect it to be answered, not dodged. For all the faults of Wolfie and Fayth, they never once have lied to me. They respect me enough to tell me the whole truth. Stu clearly doesn't. I am, as I first suspected, just his storm haven. He'll stay with me until some other far off and beautiful land beckons, and then he'll be gone again... just like always. My songs will be all that remain of him, one day; that, and my memories.

I must stand true and steadfast, never weaken, never faulter. For I am the warrior. After all is said and done, and the war in my heart is over, I shall still remain. I will fight as long as there is breath in me, and there is nothing that any man can take from me, that I have not given him freely already.

I am the yin and the yang. I am the angel and the daemon. I am always and forever. He may be my muse, but that is only temporary. If he should disappear like the others, I will lament, but I will not mourn myself. Life is for the living, and all those that lie to me, leave me, or betray me, are dead.

K. xxx

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes
photography, Kitti, art, me, kink

How was your weekend?

Mine was fucking surreal. Just epicly mental in amazingly brilliant ways.

Did I ever tell you about the first person I ever loved? Met him when I was but a tiny child, and grew up wanting this person, but knowing that I would never, ever be with him. I couldn't stop it though, that's the rub, you see. I watched him with all his girlfriends through the years, how they would treat him and how upset and confused he would get, and I would beg the universe to make him see me. Of course, I was only a kid with a crush... back then.

When I was 17, something truly amazing happened. My dream came true, and I got to spend the night of my life with a person I had wanted since childhood and always been denied. That night was true perfection, and I knew I could never again feel so beautiful and content as I felt that night. Or so I thought.

Here I am, wallowing in my loneliness, self-pity, with my rum in one hand and a razorblade in the other, calling up Dom after Dom and willing them to break me, just so I can feel something again. Trying so hard to push myself to the absolute limits of physical and emotional endurance... in short, I was fine, ok? I was just peachy. I hadn't seen nor heard from him in SIX YEARS, when there he is, clear as day, text on my phone.

So, what did I do? Besides pinching myself several times to make sure I wasn't dreaming, or hallucinating - seriously questioning my continual substance and alcohol abuse and if I had actually finally gone fuckin bat-shit, but no... it turned out to be real. I think. I'm still kinda questioning if yesterday even happened. The dinner and the conversation, and the total and utter beauty of the 11 (count 'em 11!!) orgasms he gave me, and the 6 I gave him. OGMYFUCKINGGODS can this really be happening? The crazy thing, too, is that this was not just sex. Whilst I am totally happy with him using me as his port in a storm,and have no qualms about being his little single guy booty call, we actually talked. For hours.

Now, somehow, we are sharing the same dream. A house on the outskirts of a town somewhere, a retreat for the open minded - a real poly family. He, and I, and maybe up to 5 or 6 different girls, all sharing and loving each other, all happy, and beautiful. It's crazy... I have spent so long looking for a Master, and a good family to welcome me into their fold, and I've found it, back in the shitty little town I grew up in. At least.... if he's not just stringing me along like Jake did. Somehow, I don't think he would do that considering our history.

I still don't know what to believe. All I can think of is these two nights we have had together, and how perfect they were... and I remember that a moment is all we can dare to expect from perfction, and I know that one day, most likely soon, the Universe will take him away from me again.

For now, all I can do is hold fast, relax, and breathe all of him in.

Tonight, the ritual I performed was simple. To cleanse my psyche of Alpha males, and to become closer to myself. Last night, he told me: "One cannot expect another person to think more of them, than one thinks of oneself".

So... I am on the road to self glory. I'm going to clean myself up, get myself fit and sober, and if at the end of it all I have done it right, it won't matter if he is taken from me again, because I will be all I need to be happy.

I couldn't be more frightened than I am right now. Or more elated.

Kit. xxx

On Love and Living
photography, Kitti, art, me, kink
So, I've been agonising over what to do about Stevie. For weeks, I've been thinking it's unfair to stay with him when I know for a fact I am always going to want to sub, and he is never going to want to Dom me.

Yesterday, it hits me like a speeding bullet; right between the eyes. Just like that - POW! and I realise that the one thing and the other are two different hemispheres of my little messed-up globe. I am in love with Steve. I know this. From my ears to my tail I adore my tall, dark geek of beauty. I am never going to want to be without him in my life, even if we were to stop fucking, I would still adore him and want him in my life as a close friend. Now, I *need* BDSM. There is nothing that makes me feel as free, or as perfect, as recieving new scars, and serving more powerful beings to the utmost. These two things are complete and true of me. These two things do not need to be intertwined in one single entity. I can love and be loved, and I can be abused by a totally different being and still be happy - happier, in fact... because if emotions are not so involved, being rejected or critcised by my Dom(me)s is not going to make me try and drink myself to death, as it has done recently.

Steve's a big boy. He knows exactly what I am about and has given me his total blessing to pursue my need as a sub. He isn't even particularly annoyed by it. He accepts me for who I am and STILL chooses to be with me and continue loving me. Yes, he deserves a fucking medal for doing so, but there it is - another thing that is complete and true.

So, where does this leave me on the Dom/me search? In exactly the same place. Still totally non-commital; still totally poly; and still able to be free. I have no idea what the future holds, but for now I'm happy to be fucked up by deliciously deviant devils....

Their little puppet - with no strings attached.

Memento Mori,

Kitti xxxx