You are at the threshold of your life; age is not a factor for the mind knows all....is all. All that matters is born of thought, and we are, what we want to be; we are, how we craft ourselves. We hold the needle and weave it through our actions, our words. Our garment is pieced together from patches of our consciousness....illusions, hopes, realities....all are assembled by our own hands; designed by our own psyche...
Whether the fabric be sewn with sensitivity and love, or haphazardly riveted together from patches of resentment and anger. Either way, the evidence will show in the way it is worn.
The cloak, fashioned from all our experiences; meant to protect us and keep us in comfort, ironically, exposes us for all we are. In bright light we stand, surrounded by our fabric...the colors and moods of our emotions shining brightly on our sleeves.
Our cloak, lovingly and painstakingly created, has become transparent, and we are, as we were born.....vulnerable.
On the joy of wearing the transparent cloak....
It is through the embracing of my submissive qualities that I have discovered the joy and bliss of being "seen". In fact, I am so addicted to the phenomenon now that I become desperate to reveal "all", the good, the bad and the ugly. It is a purging, in a sense; a cleansing of the soul...to be interpreted, to be assessed, as never before, completely and totally...exposure to the extreme.
The revelation; the subsequent "nakedness" produces, for me, an acquiescence so blindingly pure, so raw and erotic, it is like nothing I have ever experienced before. I am there, in the moment, existing only for Him; wanting nothing more than to "consume" everything He gives me....His heart, hands, body, eyes, voice...my hunger is excruciating in its intensity.
I am alive.
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