Long ago, I resigned myself to the idea that my life would never be minimally normal q all my life experiences could rarely included within the parameters of the monotony, and q I would retire existing stitches sewn extreme pain and pleasure. I accepted, I took it for more than 10 years q as the fact that however badly treated SM fate at times, that suffering would make me stronger and always learn something, to which should take it as a gift, more q as a punishment. True qa
sometimes hold on to this thought has become extremely difficult m, one of these occasions took place three weeks ago: Horseback riding with friends in the Brown, "Colin", bolted and I was not able: Q as worthwhile and as q no. I have learned to divide between what really matters and q bullshit.
