A change of scene

Like all living things, there is a moment when they depart



And this blog has a life of its own



And a new look and view is in order when a certain age and maturity is reached



As of now, all posts will cease


And contents moved to a new site




Hosted in www.vbogus.com




Where new posts will appear


As well as new and more interesting content





This site will remain here, as a memory of what once was


A testament to the longevity of a blog



To all, I wish we will continue to see each other


On the new site



Regards


Master Joseph

Humane

You may call slaves by many names


But calling them inhuman or inferior seems a bit off




Everyone has its own path


There are those that lead and others that are led




Living for another's satisfaction is a beautiful thing


To be explored, used, abused


To accept losing everything for the benefit of others




To feel content on a naked body dressed in shackles


Holding on to nothing but the desire to serve


To be at that place to fulfill the needs of his Master


Whatever those may be


For as long as He desires




Being humane is to care


And a slave cares for no worldly goods, other than his Master


Not even for himself


Sacrificing everything for that choice of servitude




So how can you call him inhuman


When he shows the best that he will ever be




And even if he stands beneath Your feet


That place is occupied because he chose to


Inferior towards You


But not against all the rest




And as for the Master


The one that cares for nothing other than himself


That beats and tortures for his own pleasure


Is the human or inhuman



Perhaps inhuman


Something closer to a beast


If He only looks with his eyes closed


Ignoring that who stands beneath him



But if you do open them


You will see the heavy load weighting on him, waiting to be taken out


How much his thorns hurt, waiting to be plucked


How much poison runs through his veins, waiting to be bled


How cold he feels, without a set of chains to warm him


How thirty he is, without something to drink



How can one look and not act


When no one else has the strength to do it


When no one else has the will to do it


When there is no one else for him


And no one else that he wants to ease his torment but You




How can you call yourself humane


When he is there


For You


And You leave him to suffer all alone




How can you call yourself inhumane


When you are willing to spend your time


Making him feel human


Giving him something to fight for


Something to cherish


Something to keep

Perceptions

What for some is mundane


For others is sacred




In every training, a mission



In every Master, a beginning



In every slave, an initiation



In every encounter, a gathering



In every step, a ritual



In every touch, a blessing



In every tie, an enchantment



In every taste, a giving



In every whisper, a prayer



In every penetration, a surrender



In every chain, a bond



In every key, a memory



In every memory, a connection

Doubts

There are days where nothing seems to make sense



All the hopes lost, the equipment spread on the floor, the house messed up




So much effort in preparation


all those emotions lived and thrown to the trash by those that will never return


or wasted in those that are too far from their own comprehension




The room is displaced and dark and I am here


lost in my thoughts where no one can reach me


neither to praise nor to demonish me for what I do




Doubts are also there


I am also human



Questions come, as to what I do and why I should do it


If what I do is right or wrong



I may ask, but there is no one to answer me


My life would be simpler if I could think that way




But I know it is not so




The right things can be done for the wrong reasons


as the wrong things can be done for the right reasons



Some things need to be done


Both for me and for the ones that come to me



I do these things for my own selfish reasons, as those that come do them for their own



There is no mandate to be a slave once in a lifetime


no stamps to put on a book


or a grade to achieve



There is nothing that forces me to be a master for the same reasons



There is only our own desire to do it



I know of the beauty of those that hide in the shade


The small treasures buried there


The value gained from these encounters



I like seeing it


exploring it


developing it



And there is a place in my slaves' lives to do so


There is too much effort in trying to logically justify why things are done instead of just accepting that people have different likes and needs


and that I am entitled to having my own



I will not blame myself for being who I am


And is part of my identity and will continue to be, even if I choose to ignore it



We are not machines


doing all the same


with the same bodies


eating the same food


dressing the same outfit




I accept myself in all aspects as well as my own path


If I don't, who will




My faults and virtues are for you to evaluate under your own point of view, if you wish to spend your time with it



But feel free to keep them to yourself if you disagree