mystikrainslave's blog: "My writings or ramblings *smiles*"

Every year I never know what to get a group of people for the holidays. For the past 2 years I have given candles. The are a sign of hope and prayer. The Irish tale has it with Mary and Joseph story. Some use it as a sign of welcome. I do this at my home. There is always room for someone that needs shelter. At work, I have over 300 people.....Hard to get something for everyone. It is not hard when it is a small candle. We light them on New years Eve for people we have lost, for hope, and strength for the coming year. I hope this small gift will light your way this year.

Ashamed at myself Sometimes it is hard to understand the decisions you make in your life. Especially when it affects others. I can say that I made some bad ones. I know when I have angered someone. I know it. I know when I have disappointed someone. I have done that today. I hate the feeling. I try so hard not to have my life complicate others that I do exactly the opposite of what I should do. I accept my mistakes. I try to learn from them and not make them again. Easier said then done. I am not perfect and when stressed I do not always make the right decision. Sometimes I want to hide and hope things go away. I know that is stupid. Of course it is, but it is sometimes my wish. I am ashamed of myself lately. I think because I am disappointed in myself. My decision have not always made sense to me even after I have done them. I accept that. I am still ashamed of myself.

The Storm she sits and waits on the hill she feels the breeze begin to pick up The clouds begin to churn The sun begins to fade she lifts her face toward the sky and closes her eyes she is alone and wonders why she watches the animals run into the brush There is no movement from her...waiting The clouds darken; the rumbling begins The crack of the faraway lightening The first drops of rain touch her face and open bosom Shuddering with the assault she becomes still she knows it is what she wants The rain pours on her drenching her every curve... every part of her skin Laving back and watching the clouds strengthen The lightening hitting the ground; the surge it puts through her body The tingling through her sweetness, her bosom The rain beating on her in rhythm She cries out knowing she wants more Knowing The Storm is her Master; and she merely wanting to be the rain

The Cage Hmmmm......Don't know where to start. Can only say that this one loves the cage. What does she love about it.....The hardness, the cold metal, or maybe it is just the pleasure of knowing that you are kept. A kept slave. You are forever in their control unable to leave. You are totally in the power of the other......It is barbaric in many ways but in others it is the fantasy that you are so important to the other person that they must keep you under lock and key so that you do not escape. It is the beautiful bird syndrome. You buy a bird and put that bird in a beautiful cage so that you may keep it with you. You listens to their sounds, you take care of their needs, and you admire them. You are the Master to the bird. Everyone has thought about this.......When has a man not wanted to have a woman locked in the bottle like a genie. This is a cage; not a typical one but it is. When has a woman not wanted to be the genie in the bottle or for that matter have a genie in the bottle. How about a man wanting to be a genie. Deep inside we all like the cage in a sexual or fantasy way. I am safe in the cage. It is more than fantasy to me. It is a place for me to be safe and secure. So when you are looking at a cage don't think of it as a piece of metal....think of it as a work of art....fantasy art….or your safe place.