dear readers
this is the first of my dairy entries
I do not wish to keep a blog
There are too many of them
And I am too old fashioned
I miss the texture and romance of pen on paper
So I will add diary entries
As I can
This is the real person
Behind oceania
not the fantasy
Yes I am a hedonist
And I enjoy power games
But I am also a realist
I took the name oceania from a story I read
Non-fiction
A young girl named oceania watched as her mother and aunt killed her father for the insurance money – and because she had witness this she was keep on a short leash never allowed to leave either her mothers or aunt’s side. One day she fell in love with a waiter – her only real contact with the outside world and other people. The mother and aunt bought him off and sent him away then they murdered her.
I named myself oceania because like her I felt I hadn’t had a voice – but unlike her circumstance I was going to create one
One that proclaimed loudly that common sense was missing
That a world of sheep
Did not guarantee one’s immediate entry into the heaven
And that erotic sensual passion was not a sin, not evil and should not be feared.
Orgasms should be enjoyed by both partners
And nothing should be taboo between CONSENTING adults
And lastly the government should keep it’s nose out personal lives
I am conservative in many of my views
I took up writing erotic to fill a void
Created by living in a loveless marriage
To create a world where I was desired
To feel
When my husband finally admitted that he had never loved me but was in fact afraid of me my world fell apart
That 0101010 coded in a txt document and shown to the world as a page on the web
Disintegrated and I didn’t know who I was

What I was...

March 6, 2008

today the stress of unfinished projects
there are too many
too many broken promises for sites that are needed
scream for creation and cant be completed
this depression caused by stress
has eaten me
devoured me
and leaves me almost worthless like an old rag doll
and time slips through my fingers
there is no money and no help
my savings are depleted and yet my hope that things will get better
that promised made to me will be kept
and I will prosper
my words will be heard
lingers
and even though it drives me it hurts me
because promises made to me
made by me are left unanswered
today
I woke with a migraine
it is stress
all stress
it does not make one feel or act sexy
I did what I had too and then I laid down
But that did not help
I took an Excedrin
And it made my stomach sick and I felt nauseous
But the headache persisted
I call it a headache but it is more
It is searing cold behind my eye
Like an ice pick
It continues from my eye
Down my cheek to my teeth and then
Like a well worn journey it continues to my neck down to my shoulder
It is a cold that is so brilliant that it hurts and burns and chills all at the same time
I feel like throwing up
But I don’t
Instead I take a deep breath
I run a bath
Boiling hot water
I fill the ball and claw tub with hot water and sea salts
I put an antique tray next to the tub and place a towel
My glasses and a book
Chocolat by Joanne Harris
And I undress
Slowly
Like I would for a lover
Allowing the clothes to linger as they drop to the floor
This act of sensualness reduces the pain
A bit
I turn off the water and I enter the tub
Slipping down until the water is chin level
Covering all of me
And I read
Hours pass
I empty and refill the tub
Many times
replenishing with more and more steamy hot. I let the liquid caress me, linger over my body, hugging me..
my head throbs less and less
until I feel almost whole
almost happy
and I desire to write