I’m no fucking saint


I have to deal with what’s inside. Today I have been terribly guilt ridden right out of the gate. I’m having such a difficult time coping with my behavior the other night. I feel like a piece of shit. The answer required reflection on my part. In honoring my vow to be discreet, I find that I can’t reveal it all. I will say I feel disconnected. There just hasn’t been the time invested on my master’s part…not for lack of interst, he’s had business to attend to. This is not an excuse. I couldn’t hold back…I need to be fed. I needed to make that pain to go away…I was aching so badly that at that moment it didn’t matter who did that for me. This was so wrong. To me, it’s like being an addict, you need that fix to make you feel level. I’m not a fucking saint. I make mistakes. Alot of them. Sometimes costly ones. Sometimes my mistakes hurt those I care for when they get caught in the fallout.

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About Mae East

Brooklyn NYC and vicinity.
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