I don’t know what to write!

I’m afraid that,  if I tell you the truth, I’ll lose you as a reader.  Or that you’ll think I’m crazy.
The truth is never boring!   It zooms through my body like a snake flying a kite.  It comes in colors.  Truth is a feeling, not just a thought.
The truth is,  too much sugar clouds my mind, and makes me a stranger in my own body.  This makes me crazy.
The truth is, I’m terrified of walking into the fire of sex.  So many expectations!  So much fear!  So much lack of Sacred Space without Expectations.
I crave ecstasy.   That’s why I’m single.   The man I love and crave does such a good job of numbing the pain.  Just enough alcohol to take the edge off.  Without becoming too impaired to drive!
I’ve used just enough sugar to try and soothe my tearful inner kid.  Otherwise I’d be a puddle of tears.  Crying for Daddy.  Crying for sex.
Crying for sex with Daddy. 
I’m not the only one intrigued by “incest play”.  Incest is a subject of deep denial.   But I’ve walked beyond my comfort zone. 
Must get back to Disneyland now!  Pretend I’m totally G-Rated.
Yeah.   And I’ve got a bridge to sell you!


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