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Archive for July, 2012

I’ve been a little philosophical lately. Not sure why. Maybe it’s all the change taking place in my life, affording me a different perspective. Or the new and interesting people who have come in and out of my life lately. Regardless, I’m seeing things differently and perhaps just a bit more clearly.

I used to visualize myself as on an island, safe and secure, allowing only those I wished onto my shore. The control was mine, who to let on, who to kick off, whether to swim to someone else’s island for a day or not etc.

It was a good outlook, if a bit lonely.

Recently I met someone with the same type of life philosophy, only their island had huge rock bluffs, impenetrable jungles, and a lava spewing volcano directly in the middle. A very exciting place but impossible to ever relax on. None of the beaches had sand, only rocks, the jungle had no trails and the water source was across the freshly spewed lava fields, which changed location every day.

Needless to say, after trying to navigate all that chaos I finally gave up and just swam back to my own little safe and sane island. Probably the latest in a long line of adventurers to do exactly the very same thing. Sad actually, because his island was of his own creation, his loneliness his own doing. A prison of his own making.

Wait. Prison.

I looked around at my island. Different but the same. A prison. My prison.

Okay, that was my epiphany. So now what you ask?

I’m out in the ocean swimming from island to island, yelling to everyone, “The water’s warm! Come join me.”

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It’s been awhile. I know.

This morning I woke up thinking of freedom. Shocker right? Seeing as it’s July and all, but the type of freedom I’m referring to is personal freedom. Where does it come from? And who’s to say what it means to you, or to the neighbors across the street, or to that couple sitting on the park bench?

Look more closely.

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The woman gazed at the clothing laid out on the bed, designer fitted dress or leather and chain? What would she wear? Who would she be tonight? Her heart pounded, palms sweated.

Her fingers caressed the edge of the dress, black and elegant. It sang of upscale restaurants, limos, men with suits.

Her hand moved to the leather, subtle and soft but speaking of dominance and obedience. The riding crop laid out next to it spoke of… other things.

She placed her hands in the middle, just as he came into the room, the man who gave her the freedom to be both.

She picked up the riding crop…

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