Per a very good suggestion, I’ll be posting something from now until May 2nd (when I head out for Beltane) about my Ordeal. WHAT I’m afraid of, WHY the hell I’m doing it anyway, and other related thoughts. I will start it on G+ and echo it here and separately on Facebook. This is a little separate from my other posts here, but I think valuable to document – yes, even in triplicate.
T-minus 28 days: There is a great black whip hanging on my wall. It’s a sjambok, a South African short whip, the main tool He asked me to get for Him.
On a purely lizard-brained level, that thing scares the FUCK out of me. I imagine myself welted, bruised, broken at its strikes, sobbing in the dirt, and that is terrifying to me. I’ve seen what it can do. I’ve seen the marks it can leave. They’re not the kinds of marks I enjoy. They’re the kind of marks that come from my paranoid fears of passing dark alleys and getting jumped. But the moment it was suggested to me, the second I looked it up, He said, “That.” And I got That. And That freaks me the fuck out.
And on that note, time for breakfast… heh.