Saturday, February 20, 2010

A Flame no more

We made plans to meet in Jerusalem this year. It will never happen. Elizabeth is dead. She went to another world. A world i will travel to as well, some years from now.

She was like a flame: Bright, spirited, erratic, dancing through life, beautiful, soft, playful, biting, at times flickering tiny, a blazing inferno when harassed, but always warm and hot.

She left us in flames as well, leaving her ashes behind in the cool waters of the sea.

I could tell u now about her, about her dreams, about our shared passions, our love, and our anti-vanilla convictions. But i won't. Instead i'll let her speak for herself, by sharing with u three of her (unedited) writings to me.

My Ayesha

again I can see our tastes on general life outlook and SM field (are they really two different things?)are very similar.Yes, as a sub, I m quite strong-willed and rebellious, and that have gained me in the past severe punishments from mistresses that didn't like this kind of attitude.On the other hand, my masochism is just a physical one: I don t feel at all the need to serve and be an unpaid waitress to an old hag that wants to save on her home budget by having a slavegirl at hand...I seek a splendid, intelligent and highly sensuous woman that has my same kinks and fetishistic preferences, who wants to enjoy part, or her entire life with a girl that loves leather, rubber and most of all...whips.You say you could be quite dangerous when your libido gets free, without in that wonderful painting, but that's exactly another of my favourite things: I m not afraid to discover the darker side of my lover's sexuality: knowing we have no finely established limits only adds to the already great thrill of being used like a pleasure animal by her...Just like Bram Stoker s Mina, I'd revel in seeing her unleash her deepest, natural hunger to hurt, to slash savagely just to reach her special, unique goal.I'd be in religious awe before this True Woman, this Sacred Priestess who is performing the rite of evolution of the ignorant girl, that needs Her Love to raise above the mediocrity of her ignorance. It doesn't matter if Her Love is a cruel one and does hurt, if her flesh will be striped to the blood; since it's beautiful and pure, a spiritual kind of sex.This regards, of course, those special moments...In everyday life, I love too having fun, going to locals, discotheques and feeling the particular atmosphere of sleazy places, just like you, just as I love going to concerts, movies and vernissages.Perhaps I'm a bit old-fashioned for a girl my age, but, frankly, I prefer it this way. I like the way I am.


And in relation to a couple of pictures i uploaded to my Yahoo group AST, she wrote about the one above:

Funny as it may sound, it's just the "Getting There" drawing that I like the most and find it irresistibly erotic...I see it like a love scene: late in the night, the restless beautiful dominant needed to appease her kind of sexual desires, so she got down in the dungeon, where she kept her lover chained, and fully knowing that he wanted it at least as bad as she did, she lashed him freely, with abandon, without any silly limit, with the only goal of her own and his pleasure, a special kind that only few can understand, when the sexual satisfaction is so rarefied that it transforms itself in a thing of much higher value, raising from the 1st to the 6th Chakra. So, even if they do not touch physically each other, the only contact being that through her whip, in effect they perform a classical rite of love-making, of the most beautiful kind.


You know, my Ayesha, I'm young, but I think I know something about psychology, and between your witty, lightly sarcastic lines I perceive a fear to be hurt (spiritually, I mean).Somebody sometime must have disillusioned you with false love offerings and you suffered for it and now, every time your heart is going to open up, you immediately take a step backward, afraid of the consequences, afraid of losing your power, afraid of pain.I may be wrong, of course. But it wouldn't change anything, anyway...I'm the sticking type: I'll always be at your side, your true friend.


I will travel there. To that sea. I will swim in Mar Tirreno. When its waters caress my body, she will be there, caressing me as well. And we will weep bitterly and joyfully.

Farewell, my Elizabeth.

Im ein ani li, mi li? U'ch'she'ani l'atzmi mah ani? V'im lo achshav eimatai? (Pirkei Avos chapter one - mishna 14)


  1. Why hasn't anyone commented on this?

    If I just would read through your blogs I could learn more. I do wonder about you.

    I wonder about what has influenced your views, who - once upon a time. I don't question you because I don't really feel the need. I read between the lines. I sense it I guess. If that makes sense to you.

    Heartfelt blog.

  2. You are Ayesha & I love you as you are.

  3. Why? I think it has something to do with being unable to deal with raw realities, cowardice to, for once, walk a short distance with people who dare to show their true emotions, lives characterized by indifference, superficiality, mediocrity, and only “fun” seeking, and last but not least, fear for what’s lingering deep inside them.

    From as far as my thoughts can go back, i always had it in me to question all and everything. Not only out of curiosity, but mainly cos i had that overwhelming feeling there had to be more than what was presented to me. I couldn't comprehend that people were constantly complying with what others told them to do, accepting society’s norms, laws, values, protocols, rites, and traditions, as if they were the holiest of the holy. It baffled me that people adored common sense. I wanted more. I wanted to know what i wanted without being biased by what was imposed on me, by what people were expecting from me, by what people were trying to convince me of was good, bad, valuable, objectionable, etc. I had an insatiable desire to explore those indefinable feelings that were invading me as i grew older. So i went out in the physical as well as the spiritual world, and found many answers to my questions, meeting incredible love, unbelievable sorrow, exalted joy, and unbearable pain along my travels as well.

    This blog is partly giving away info about the most important events in my life, and what i want to share about my ideas, views, and actions, be that via prose, poetry, music, or pictures. Of cors it also functions as a means to ridicule, mock, laugh at, and provoke the ones who see themselves as gifts to humankind in general, and women in particular.

    I think i can feel u too Paula, and love u for that.

  4. True. I prefer blogs like this actually.

    There's always more to an individual. More than they'd like to share but it's there for some to see. I haven't been one to comply with rules, although sometimes it would have been better for me if I had.

    Don't always need to lay all your cards out with the lights on. I love expressing myself, in many ways. I loved drawing but haven't done that in a long time & right now I don't feel I'm in the place to write. But when I feel the urge I do. I have many conversations with myself about life & I do all the replying.

    I don't like reality but I live in it. If I could be oblivious and stupid I would but I think they are too afraid to leave their comfort zone. Now they can complain about a scrape on their new shoes and the broken nail on a freshly manicured hand... because that's utterly devastating isn't it? & see how many comments they get on that update.

  5. There's more than one reality Paula. And the vanilla one is certainly not the most real one among them.

    Yes, most people just love to babble about nothing, without any obligation on their part.

  6. I doubt most of them know the meaning of reality. Too wrapped up.

  7. C’est ici le point sommital de l’amour,

    Que ceux qui ne le comprennent pas retournent manger leurs canards,

    Et toi, visiteur, ne te demande pas s’il faut respirer, tu es ici juste devant la grâce,

    Laisse-nous les coups silencieux du fouet, qui coupe nos cœurs en deux, puis en quatre, puis en mille,

    Demain tu auras oublié ce qui fait battre tes veines,

    Et alors que tu n’as même pas vu la chrysalide, nous nous relèverons puissants comme le vent du large.


  8. "Le remède est dans le poison." (Marcel Achard)