A Simpli Splendiferous Adversaria

October 21, 2006

BDSM and D/s vs Gor by ellaJ

To some in BDSM, the term Gorean refers specifically to a subset of the BDSM lifestyle. The level at which adherents follow the books vary, but the Gorean lifestyle is differentiated from BDSM by the lack of a safe word between master and slave. Goreans are generally disdained by the mainstream of BDSM practitioners, because the “Gorean” philosophy rejects the ideas of “Safe, Sane and Consensual”/”Risk Aware Consensual Kink” as unnecessary because pain, extreme physical or sexual play is not considered part of being Gorean.

The main principle of Gorean society is “be what you truly are,” followed by “treat people as what their actions and behavior portray them to be.” It is true, actions do speak louder than words. In regards to slaves, this means that one should only be a slave or consider to be, if one is truly, in one’s heart, belly, being, soul, a slave. It also means that one should not behave in a slave-like fashion, unless she is prepared to become one.

Philosophy is a discipline or field of study involving the investigation, analysis, and development of ideas at a general, abstract, or fundamental level. It is the discipline in search for a general understanding of values and reality by chiefly speculative rather than observational means. The term covers a very wide range of approaches, and is also used to refer to a worldview, to a perspective on an issue, or to the positions argued for. Lifestyle is who and what we are and how we live it.

The Gorean lifestyle is concerned with a person living as closely to the philosophies, ideals, and principles without the pretentious counterfeit performances by the ever growing r/p (role playing) populace. The adaption of “natural order” and the relations between men and women take the form of a deeper, intense, master and slave dynamic.

1. Ref, http://www.disinfo.com/archive/pages/dossier/id432/pg1/
2. Ref, http://www.dreamstrike.com/gorintro5.html
3. Ref, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gorean
4. Ref, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/BDSM


BDSM and D/s VS Gor

Gorean Axiom- Lifestyle and Philosophies
by ella J
Formerly ella GC

A D/s (Dominant/submissive) relationship has always been built on explicit negotiation of limits and desires, and the power in the relationships is not simply seized or assumed, it is exchanged. All aspects of the relationship only go as far as the sub wishes, and the explicit rules and regulations of D/s can often evolve into a profound implicit understanding of needs, desires and personality. Equality is recognized. Many sexual submissives are dominant everyday in various aspects of their lives. And many dominates will never voice a command outside of the role. While equality for both men and woman might exist in the D/s lifestyle, it will never exisit in the gorean one.

A specific distinction between goreans and BDSM followers is that the gorean does not seek the sadism and masochism as part of their lifestyle. The gorean master doesn’t punish his slave for the sexual gratifications of doing so. He does not wish to inflict pain upon his slave. He cherishes her, often times loves her. The gorean slave is disciplined so that she will think twice before repeating the same infraction again. While BDSM leans toward erotic stimulation, the gorean union is of sensual and sexual bonding. The kajira surrenders with her heart, the fire in her belly, she yields to his will, she wishes for his command. She complies and obeys.

BDSM is a sexual preference When a Gorean owns a woman, he owns her thoughts and her ideas, all of her. He lures all that is inside her, out. The Gorean Master wants more then a scene or session. He wants more than kinks and thrills. He wants to own, utterly. Stimulating, erotic, passionate sex, to any degree, is a tool. The infliction of pain, suffereing and emotional distress are not.

A kajira is taught at the hands of dominant men to serve and to do so with perfection. Not too far into her training a kajira recognizes that serving in any capacity is a privilege, be it fetching his drink or remaining silently at his feet as he converses with other’s. Service is a privilege, not a right. A kajira has no rights, least of all the right to receive the gift of service. A gorean slave is property. Property that is cherished and cared for. She will obey with absolute, unquestioned and instantaneous obedience. When she does not, she might feel the lash of the punishment whip or the pain in her belly from not being fed. Becoming aware that she has displeased her Master, the disappointment in his eyes builds to a deep intense anguish within her. The very worse punishment of all. A kajira understands that her position is one of servitude. She lacks the liberty to determine her course of actions and is *happy* to relinquish this control to the men of Gor. She is acquiescent and complaisant. A kajira has no honor for a kajira can own nothing, unless it is by his gift or approval. What she does have is a sense of honor and in every way serves to uphold and further the honor of he who chooses to own her. A kajira learns to embrace her own feminine nature. Under the hands and boot of a dominant Gorean Master she comes to understand and cherish the fact that she is a sexual beast. She is open and unrestrained in all things as it pleases the Masters. She is not shy or bashful unless allowed to be so. There is no emotion or thought, or piece of her soul that she should ever be so bold as to believe she may withhold from him. Every breath the girl inhales are those of submission and surrender. She is by her nature, when mastered, compliant and yielding, a pleasing creature to own. This does not mean that she is witless or nescient.

The kajira has fire and spirit and is all things that are feminine and beautiful.

The Master’s push the slave emotionally when needed, challenging them with Dominance to be as pleasing as possible. They coax them to harness their own natural beauty and to embrace the wild fire that lives within the slave, slut, wench’s belly. The Gorean Master rules with a firm hand, giving a steady and consistent diet of Domination as well as reward and punishment. He does not tolerate the slightest of errors and punishes in a manner befitting the crime. Too, he lets his girls know when they have been pleasing by rewarding them and thereby, instituting equal balance. He is in control of himself, confident and arrogant. As a Gorean man he is interested in not only owning the physical forms of his property but also of owning the girl herself. He seeks to own the whole woman, her body, mind and spirit in all of her depth, complexity and individualism.

Embracing natural order as the rightful state of being among the sexes. Women beneath the hand of man. A woman under Master’s hand.

A gorean lifestyle evolves when a female submits her will to a gorean man. She is making her choice. She begs his collar and if he accepts, it becomes the last choice she will ever make. At that moment, she relinquishes all of her rights. Any returned or allowed would be by his choosing. The Gorean Master is harsh, but seldom cruel. Her vow is to exist for his pleasure. His is to care for, lead, and nurture her. Her choices now his. Her thoughts his, her pleasure his. Her physical, mental and emotional well being rests in his hands. Only a Gorean man can spawn a gorean kajira.

This is what has come to be known as Consensual Slavery.

©2005-2006 twinklev Unauthorized duplication and distribution is prohibited. May be used with permission. Contact: Jaguarous@Yahoo

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Gorean Theorem by ellaJ

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Gorean Theorem by ella J (Formerly ella GC)
In the old days it was natural for a man to provide and lead and for a woman to care for the home, the children and his needs.  She was to be pleasing in all that she was.  A woman in biblical times was to submit to her husband.  She vowed a promise to *obey him. This vow alone forces one to be sub-servient even if one wishes not to be.  He owns her. In order for a person to obey absolutely and without question they must be the property of another, if they do not consider themselves to be so.  Defiance brought punishment.  Only more recent did this begin to disolve and *cherish came to replace it.  A Gorean lifestyle and Society would then fit into this natural process of living.  In the natural order men are dominant and woman are submissive.  Gorean belief is that men, over millions of years of evolution, have been selected for dominance and women for submission.  Anything else, even if it is a societal norm (as in Western cultures on Earth) is a perversion of nature and a lie. Since Goreans abhor dishonesty, they react very harshly to men who do not seek to exercise their dominance, or at least avoid outright submission.  It cannot be overemphasized that a man who voluntarily consented to being enslaved of his own free will would be utterly repugnant to Goreans, free and slave, male and female alike.  Although a woman might own a male slave, she would mock and revile him, being disgusted by his nature.

Dr. Lange, as John Norman wrote about a counter earth that included a portion of these ideals from our world, our earth, the dirt that we walk on as human beings.  This belief having already existed in our nation, not a counter world to earth.  These old days have added truth to the idea that men and woman have a natural process to one another, not necessarily a natural order.  Some woman are in fact stronger and more dominant than men.  In this scenario, it would seem fair to say that this would be the natural order for these people. The debates on this subject become long and overwhelming with many becoming offended, angry or hurt, but it too is open for discussion.  Let us not forget that on the fictitious planet called Gor, a male was Master by birthright, he possessed this status immediately.  To have become enslaved as a male was very degrading.  The idea of feminine men and masculine woman continues to be controversial but by example the gorean idioms leave very little to discuss in the debate of whether or not a slave male (a man serving a woman as slave, submissive or bottom) has a place in gorean society.

Our future as a people depends on men being men, and women being either at the feet of men (as a slave) or at their side (as a free companion).  Free women do have a place in real life Gorean Society.  They can wield great power.  If this were Norman’s Gor, a free woman would be free and remain free only because the men allowed it.   She could also be enslaved or re-enslaved at their will.  Remember too, if this were Gor according to Norman and we as Goreans who believe in the ethos of  these novels would know that the hypothesis of real world lifestyle as switches per se ( from top to bottom and vice versa ) did not exist and still cannot exist in Gor as we know it. If it did then any acclaim would not be of a gorean status, but of dominant to submissive or top to bottom relationship often found in the Bdsm or D/s lifestyles.  It would null and void the total master and total slave union.  A woman was not a free woman sometimes and a slave another.  Her belly might stir mixed emotions, but she could not be called Mistress one moment and sister the next.  If she acted a slave at all then she would become enslaved and be *only a slave, until freed again, if ever.  This is not book Gor, this is a reality Gor of real people excersising philosophies of freedom and slavery legal to our Justice System. 

Please remember that Gorean ideals are not based on sexual gratification as being first and foremost but to the dynamics of *Consensual Slavery.  I do not mean to imply that the Bdsm, non-Gorean M/s and D/s sub-cultures are beneath or above the gorean one, only that there is a place for each individual in our community, that which may fit well for one, may not fit well for another.I imagines gor to be this… There are 3 moons of Gor and to look at them as marbles in the palm of my hand.  To the left is our earth, to the right is the fictional counter earth, and in the center is how it use to be, how it should be, and what is natural to be.  A combination of fantasy and reality containing elements that would not allow us to be enslaved with malice, but allow us to serve men, Our Master’s– with fire burning through the very edges of our flesh and soul.  The ability to discard the inhibitions that reside in the deepest recesses of our minds and instead love so deeply one another that passion becomes all of our today’s and all of our tomorrows. 

With this…  Love, trust, devotion and surrender becomes absolute.

©2006 twinklev  Unauthorized duplication and distribution is prohibited.  
May be used by permission only. Please contact: Jaguarous@Yahoo

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Oh What a Wicked Web the WEB Weaves!

 Cross-posted from 360.yahoo.com/elllajC -Entry for July 23, 2006

The more I look around, listen, and pay attention to my surroundings and the going ons among it, the more I understand. I understand that men and women are different. As a female, we tend to need just one man to fulfill us. Longing for the one. Craving deep down in our bellies for him, the master of our fantasies and everything we imagine.

A man needs more. It takes much more to fulfill him. He has deeper needs that generally one female will never fulfill. So I watch the interaction of the men and women. The master’s and the sluts. The free men and free women and how they mingle together. I see free women as they attempt over and over to get the attention of a man who stirs her to the point of seeking approval or correction, as long as the attention comes. I see a free woman, from time to time, with heat in their flesh to serve, subservient nature, yet conduct themselves becoming of a free woman. Those free females truly deserve to be recognized for their efforts in retaining their true being and nature while also demonstrating the character of how the uncollared, unowned woman should act.

I watch as some females seek to be at the center of attention, taking away from the female, who may have had the privilage of receiving it, otherwise. Yes, I used the word, privilage, afterall, a man owes the slave nothing. If she did receive his praise or attention, it certainly would be a privilage and not something due her in any sense of the way.

Now back to the men who need more. I am not at all implying that these men are out to fuck each girl he comes into contact with beyond a greet. Not at all, though, I do believe a man who has more than one girl to which he’s close to, has them because each one offers him something unique, a fulfillent that cannot be reached with just one. Why? Because hardly no one woman will ever possess each and every quality that attracts him. Who is the perfect women or slave girl in a man’s fantasies? I can almost imagine. I’d love to say.. oh yeah, I know exactly the kind of wench he dreams of, but well…  I’d hate to be called a liar, or nipped at and confronted with the disapproved assumption that I have no idea how a man thinks, so…  ~smiles.. We won’t go there. ~Sshh

The man, the man, the man…   the master! Hm..   The female…  slave, companion, or significant other to one offline. Lets go on a little ride.. it goes like this.. A man, online frequently, but has a female in the home, offline. A female, online, but has a man or master in the home, offline.  ~lifts fingers to twine a lock of loose spiral around her finger and tugs.

mm, well…   Someone somewhere in either scenario is hurting or pissed off, whether they reveal it or not. Or maybe the person offline has not even a clue of what the other does online. Yep, might even be someones dirty little secret. Yet too, through all the dishonesty, there does actually exist honesty between partners. Why would a man spend hours online with girls, if he had one offline already? Because he’s hungry to have in his presence those slaves who feed him? Nibbles or portions of friendships? Alright since most of us are on the gorean path, perhaps friendship is not a good word, but you know what I mean. Why would a slut spend hours online with other men, when she has one at home? Because she’s hungry to be in the presence of all men who feed her fire? I better not use the word friendship again, I might get my ass beat! Or worse..  called or considered to be un-gorean. Then again, all anyone is ever going to get from me- is me, no matter where I happen to be. And um.. it will never be beneath the fictional Gorean skies.


What in the world would possess a slut to spend countless hours online, when she lives in a commited, devoted, loyal, submissive, passive, sincere, caring, loving, sensual marriage offline, even if it does have it’s ups and downs?

Passion! A complete totality of passion and utter servitude to be all that she is, where ever she is. Makes sense to me. But then again, it would! It’s probably beyond anyone elses wildest or even dullest imaginations.

I see couples online and watch their interactions with one another and others, together, and in eachothers absense.  Does contentment and security exist with it or insecurity and dis-contentment? It hurts to hurt. Pain doesn’t have to be visible, it can exist in many forms from a visible physical scar to an invisible incurable disease and mostly no one will ever see either type because if you look or are seemingly fine, then guess what? You are! Doesn’t everyone have worth? Uh oh, maybe I shouldn’t go there either because a female cannot boast worth. Can she? I know the answer..  and am aware that that worth is dependent on the man himself.

Oh God– what a wicked web the WEB weaves!

Someone will always be hurt, angry, insecure, and lonely. Someone else will always be happy, bouncy, secure, and flourish. Does it matter?



The Promise by twinkleEKV/ellajC

The Promise-  Cross-posted from 360.yahoo.elllajC

So I remember years and years back, we were young, kids, yeah… just kids.
Together though, I was his wife of years, already still. And we sat talking about the future in all that we
dreamed and all that it may have turned out to be. And we looked to eachother with the deepest of love, the deepest of sincerety, the deepest of tomorrows and promised…

We promised one another that no matter how bad it ever might be, or how bad it ever actually became…We would never ever let eachother suffer…  ever! We would honor our word at all cost. Yes, at all cost.

We would except the consequences for our own actions. We would act on our promise and live our remaining days in jail… or be smart enough to beat the system and still honor that promise… 

That time is nearing…

Today, only moments ago, I asked him again…

I begged him to close his eyes and remember his promise to me as I held close to heart my own promise to him..

Would he honor it?

His answer… 

I might be a little selfish..


Only that day when it comes will answer both of us…

Until then…

I know  our love for one another remains as strong as it was then…

but hopefully ends stronger than it began.


                                                                  ~ twinkleEKV/ellajC

La Pagar Kajira by twinklev/ellaj

La Pagar Kajira

by twinklev/ellaj

Without forced, mislead intentions
Entrusting was his heart
Nothing ventured, nothing gained
Unless sincerity tore it apart


Bridges burned, abandoned
Embracing a future anew
Stepping over piles of rubble
Took on another view


Finding contentment and solace
That some had torn away
Strength, support and conviction
Tamed sorrow for another new day


He knew passion and fear existed
Beneath the pains she hid so well
The afflictions inside, she expressed it
but really who could tell


He could lead her toward survival
She could serve with fire or ice
Submit to another tomorrow
Make the best of a challenging life


Grow with determined ambitions
Retaining a slaves pride and grace
Surrendering into his will
That ashes have come to replace


Obedient, imbonded, subservient,
woman, a mans truest treasure
A pleasing, passionate, firey slut

For his heavenly erotic pleasure


Maybe in his chains and at his mercy
Perhaps once, a preconceived idea
Still nothing but a Gorean pleasure slave


La pagar kajira

©2006 twinklev/ellaj   
    Unauthorized duplication and distribution is prohibited.  
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Dance of Seduction by twinklev/ellaj/caliente

Dance of Seduction by twinklev/ellaj/caliente

The girl moves back from the master, pushing back on hands to stand to dainty feet. The beat of her heart skipping, the flutters in her belly rising, long auriferous tendrils wild spirals raining down lightly bronzed shoulders. Long fingers begin to trail along her tummy, lightly, teasingly, her head tilts to the side, the ends of blonde curls grazing budding adorned nipples, she breathes in slow, yet steadily, she yearns for his touch, his voice commanding her will, her palms cupping aching full breasts as they rise and fall, curvaceous hips begin to undulate seductively, fingers brush through her hair as her arms reach to rise high above her head, crossing at the wrists, as if to be bound by binding fiber. 

Dark eyes lift towards the sky, her knees weak and bending slightly, she turns away from him, but within his grasp, her ass, the curves of her back, spine, naked, in his sight, belly rolling, the drums in the back ground, her body snaps to the beat, the kaska, soft, she gasps out, arms drop suddenly as she bends forward, fingers between her legs, her inner thighs, the bareness of her skin, her ass swirls in slow entincing circles before him, she stands, spirals wild now,

she turns to changing tempos, her nakedness serving the air, as if becoming one with it, surrendering, she closes her eyes, oh god she murmers beneath her breath, girl needs him, she’s going to have him, thoughts flying, she must please him, make him want her, she lets out a soft whimper as her lower body rides the invisible waves as if making love to it, heat flowing, passion rising, fire tingling ,embers, volcanic eruptions of rapid heart beat, skipping, quickening, she hears the sound of her own voice as she moans.

Luring, cocoa colored orbs revealing the secrets of her intimate soul rise, she does not dare meet his eyes, lowering deep brown occulars, her neck rolls from left to right, hands again finding the lushness of her chest, baby fingers dipping into the silverish captive beaded loops, she tugs, oh!

Her feet pivot onto the ground, her toes rising and falling, the balls of her feet spinning her as she turns to her side, her left hand resting on a single cheek of rounded ass, her right pressed lightly to her slave belly, Light mohagany skin glistening as the dim light of the tharlarion oil lamps flicker about. Lusciously jeweled mounds thrust forward, as her spine arches before him, her hands reaching out as if to grab him to her, begging and pleading, a braceleted wrist rises to trace deliciously puckered lips, grazing them, her mouth quivers, a sultry gaze lifts, he can read her soul, dark chocolately orbs burning with desire, bright, twinkling, ebony lashes flutter lightly, a salaciously glossed pout of pink curl into a shining smile, radiant, alive, as she dances, giving her everything, showing him everything, sluttishly nude freshness twirls her need for him as he watches with intent interest. Chain dangling low on her hips, accenting her curves.

The flutes, mm, she becomes lost, her body snakes, slow, ravishing, tu-toned locks of blonde and dark brown layer and bounce about her flushing cheeks, arms wrapping around her tense tummy, succulent lips purse, as an almost silent helpless whine slips from her vocal chords, parting involuntarily as if to submit to his own hard mouth against hers, she trembles, skin clammy with heat, moist pink tongue gliding along ripe full lips. Loose ringlets flirt raining to the small of her back as her head rocks backwards, exposing her collared neck, locked, symbolic of her ownership. Slave bells melodious playing in shaking clings together like a tambourine affixed to her left ankle, bina’s encircled together with hemps hugging her close reminders of her slavery, and the beauty of ownership, being owned completely, all of her, all that she is, all that she was, all that she will be.

Gifted pieces, earned, begged for, hers, until the master chooses otherwise. Her will embraced, mind rushing, she cries out starved for his affections. Hands up and down her sides, her own touch, tingling, invisioning his, rapture. The nearly whispered word, master echoes from unsteady voice, her breath sporadic, eyes close, as she tries to get hold of herself, she can’t, she wants him, arms extending forward palms raised facing the heavens, in total submission, fingers twirling in, towards her own body, but also challenging him to her, she whines inside her head, her hands soliciting an urgency, drawing, provoking, suggestive, propositioning, un-deniable supplication, nearly silent pleas bespeaking, a please, come here! Inner torment begins to fill her.

Round mounds, firm, yet jiggling softly, sweet candy to his eyes. The light upon her skin revealing flawless, exquisite flesh, rounded hips undulating with a quickness to the pounding kaska, noting the faint plucking of the kalika from time to time, her forefinger of the left lifts poking between her lips almost forcibly, submitting to the digit, a soft hungry suck, as her lips wrap firmly around it, arm drops another whimper escapes, hips grinding in harmony, emotions rise like a wild fire, speading, hot, continuing, soaring, heavy searing roaring winds carrying a fierce firey prurient concupiscent aroused beast towards freedom, total freedom in slavery.

oh god, the beast cries out, as she falls to his feet, her knees weak, her thighs tight. Between them moist, dewy flavors of slut need apparent, the melody slows, her cheek brushes against his right ankle, higher, breathing in deeply his scent, begging silently with the sign language of a girl luring the master to use her, abuse her, take her for his pleasure, the pleasures of others, she lays lingering kisses to his foot, calf, ahh, she moans, she doesn’t raise her lips above his knee, her head drops to the top of his foot, as the rapid racing heart begins to return to normal, though the fire intense growing, growing, her own slave scent in the midst now, she moans into his ankle in waiting.

~La pagar kajira
© 2006 twinklev  Unauthorized duplication is prohibited. May be used by permission and with viewable credit to author.

She has also written under the more common psudonym’s ellaj, ellajC, caliente, salacious surrender, and simpli salacious slut.

Coercive Persuasion- Surviving RSD by twinklev

Coercive Persuasion
(Surviving RSD)
by twinkleEKV

Many of us struggle through our day to day lives. Some of us struggle to live and some of us struggle to get by. Each a survival of a different kind and with different meaning. I cannot express enough that life holds many risks that carries with it just as many downfalls as there are the upswings where happiness flows through it all. And it will, if you allow it to. I believe life is what you make it. Life has to be what I make it to be. No, I cannot snap my fingers and magically produce a miracle or suddenly make the rent get paid simply because I want it to be paid. It has to come from somewhere. We have to work for what we want and need and if we think it’s rough, it probably is, if we believe in ourselves enough to go forth and make rough better, we will. Survival! I have finally come to accept that my future is not going to be what I had hoped for. The dreams I had as a child have already passed me by, the dreams I had as an adult are dangling in a possible and not possible zone. I think that many people let life pass them by. They take for granted a tomorrow that one day may never come. 7 years ago, I thought I had the rest of my life. I was working, I had goals of my own, goals to reach with my Master, goals and dreams to live out with my children. When I say the rest of my life, I mean to say, live atleast until I’m 65. Having been informed recently of a 4th stage of RSD, a stage that not all doctors agree upon, yet still exists even if it were to be tossed into stage 3. My hope now is that I live to 50. That would let me see my only son turn 21 and my daughters reach 30. That would give me 12 years to be all I can be. Not much time, but enough to spread a few words of wisdom and tell others to never give up. Palms up turned in service to all. To everyone. If your kids need to eat, feed them. If your wife needs your hand, slip it between her palm, if your mom needs to hear your voice, call her. If your dad needs an I love you tell him. If your daughter needs her mom, let her know you’re there. If your son needs a hug, hug him! Let those you love, know! Never forget to love yourself. If happiness is nil, look for those little things that bring it. Use it to make others around you happy. A happy home maker makes for a happy family. Some of us live with various forms of Cancer and Illnesses that progress and end in early death. We don’t want pity, but we hope for compassion. We don’t want to be treated differently, but sometimes need help. We don’t always ask for it, but we hope our partner or our children will just do so without having been asked. Often times, if not offered, we still won’t ask, and sometimes when freely given, we will decline. The optimist believes that we live in the best of all possible worlds, the pessimist believes, well, they believe it’s just a world filled with evil and misfortunes. Some believe in heaven and hell, God and satan. I do! I’ve also come to believe in all that’s been tossed my way that heaven is also what we make it, hell is simply the opposite of that heaven and purgatory might be the center of both. God is inside us, for a non-believer, god would still exist. God could be ourselves, who we are. A holy spirt for me, maybe only a spirit to the athiest. Thoughts, so many thoughts rush through my mind. Am a philosopher, I think and analyze. I critically think, I dig deep and then dig deeper. I crave knowledge. Countless hours of research. My beliefs vary and just when someone thinks they have me figured out by a pattern of previous thoughts, poof, I go the opposite direction. Does my life have value? I think so. In one sense or the other, it does. Does your life have value? Absolutely! Does your life have meaning? I’m sure meaning exists within it. Does my life even though it’s becoming minimized have meaning? Yes, it does. Let all that you are continue on with determination. When you think something cannot be achieved, think on it again, it can be. Make it be! If I was told I would without a doubt die tomorrow, I would defeat that doubt and live to see the sun rise the following day. I actually cannot wait to do so.  When an ailment has you down, get up. If you can’t get up, keep your mind up. When the affliction takes over so badly that you think you’re losing your mind and I know it does, take some deep breaths, believe in yourself. I believe in you. People tend to back away from those who are sick. It’s not that they don’t care, it’s that by you being sick, it changed their life, too. Mostly it is only that they don’t know what to say or don’t know how to interact with you any longer. Let them know how you feel, ask them how they feel, if they leave you still, let it go. Don’t let the fact that they are gone from your life, hurt you past the original hurt. It wasn’t you that failed. It’s hard for people to carry burden of any sorts. Don’t ever feel you are a burden. You aren’t! We all ended up a victim of circumstance. Circumstance changes lives. Pain is a constant reminder that we live, that we are infact alive. It’s proof that we feel and feel beyond what most ever will. It is enlightening! It broadens our minds. And God! It hurts like hell. A sudden thought- Perhaps pain is hell and heaven is the grasp we learn to have on it. Survival! Endurance! Patience! Suicidal ideations become overwhelming. The feelings of being useless, worthless, loss, lack of self esteem, helpless, but you’re not alone. Truly, you aren’t. Never give up on yourself because if you do, more than likely, everyone else will also. Be strong and others will be strong with you. Use your experiences and emotions to help and inform others. I know my words will survive me. Let yours do the same.

Don’t forget to tell people you love them and what they mean to you and don’t forget to let them love you back.

I cannot wait to stare the end in the eye and then turn around and walk away to live and survive another day.


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