“The eye of a master will do more work than both his hands”

Or so said Benny Franklin. My Master apparently disagrees.

The Hands of Fate

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Foreplay? Has anyone seen the foreplay?

Master doesn’t very often “gift” me with foreplay. Not because He doesn’t know how, and not because He thinks the sight of His beautiful cock should be foreplay enough. Not for any of the other reasons that the women in the break room used to bitch and moan about either.

It’s because He likes to take me when neither my body nor my mind is ready.

He gives Himself plenty of foreplay, gets Himself all worked up. Generally when I’m completely unsuspecting (like.. sleeping) or preoccupied with kids and housework and cooking. When the very LAST thing on my mind is sex, that’s when He likes to strike, swooping in with His patented ‘flip-n-fuck’ technique.

Last night, I’d already been in bed for a while when He came at me. Leaning over He plucked my glasses off my nose and let out a disappointed sigh when I gazed up at Him. “Damn. I was hoping you were asleep.” He lamented.

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to flip you over and take what’s mine.”

And I felt guilty! How dare I be wide awake when He wanted me to be asleep! The very nerve, the insolence! I almost begged Him to go away and come back in 5 minutes and I’d do my best to be sleeping.

“Well You can still flip me over and take-”

But He was already between my legs by then and I didn’t need to say any more.

I’ve asked Him what it is in particular about it that He likes so much and He twitched around a bit and made some squealy-monkey grunts and said “That. That’s what I like.” So apparently, when He flips-n-fucks, I act and sound like a chimpanzee having a seizure and He finds that attractive.

To each His own I guess. ;)

There have been times when He’s been down there, poking at my Sahara-dry pussy with His cock, trying to gain entrance, and I’ve thought to myself that a little foreplay would cure this skin-tearing painful beginning. But then I suppose I wouldn’t moan the same way, I wouldn’t struggle to keep my legs open or to keep my ass cocked. I damn sure wouldn’t act like an epileptic monkey. What a downer that would be.

I think what He was trying to say with His ape-on-crack impression is that He likes that I submit, instinctively, even though I’m sometimes not even aware of what I’m submitting to.

Though it doesn’t usually take me long to catch up. It may start dry (think trying to put a latex surgical glove on a wet hand) but it does not end dry. I have the frequently laundered sheets to attest to that.

But truth be told, when He does gift me with foreplay, when His tongue and His hands work their magic to turn me into a drippy cunt long before He takes the plunge? It’s nice. But.. nice is kinda boring.

Would I trade His flip-n-fucks for a session of foreplay? No. Hell no. Not a chance.

This morning He mentioned it again, my having been awake when He came at me last night. Again, I felt a stab of guilt.

Next time I’m just going to close my eyes and pretend I’m sleeping. I can’t stand seeing Him disappointed like that. I suppose I better work on my monkey moves then. ;)

~cunt

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Slut is a four letter word.

I know that slut is supposed to be an insult. I hear my daughters refer to other classmates in that way. With wrinkled noses and disdain dripping from their voices. “Oh she is SUCH a slut. Look at her. Oh. My. Gawd.”

I asked Jes one time what criteria would get a girl labeled as a slut. I’m not sure if I have the formula down correctly but it was something along the lines of if you’ve slept with more than 3 people, you’re a bonafide slut. I guess I can see that, when applied to a 15 or 16 year old. I did not tell her that her mother was a certified slut though. Some things a child just doesn’t need to know about her mom’s activities. ;-)

I wonder sometimes if I’m a natural submissive as I struggle with some of the more basic elements of service and submission. I know I’m a natural masochist though. I’ve known that since my first “ride” atop the pointed peak of the dog house in the backyard when I was in grade school. I connect pain with pleasure in a big way. Sometimes I suspect that I latched onto submissiveness because it seemed to go hand in hand with masochism.

But, I know without a doubt, without a millisecond of hesitation, that I AM a natural slut. Jezebel, a hussy, a tart, a tramp. I dressed the part, I acted the part, I performed the part.

I never associated the emotions with sex that other people do. It was always just sex. Not a commitment, no deeper hidden meaning. I wasn’t waiting for a proposal or a second date and it didn’t bother me in the least to have feelings for one person, and sleep with another. The two were entirely separate.

When my first husband began his (frequent) affairs, it was never the other women that pissed me off. It was being lied to. I *hate* to be lied to. About anything. All he ever had to do was be honest and I wouldn’t have given a rats ass who he slept with.

I would do well in a poly household in that respect. What I would have issue with is sharing play time. I am far too selfish to even think about giving up any of *my* precious play time. ;)

I like sex. The raunchier the better. I like to cock my ass up and wiggle it in the air. I like to spread my pussy lips wide and taunt whoever is looking. I like the wetness, the sloppiness, the grunts and slaps and other rude, raucous noises that emanate from between our two joined bodies. And I like it best when some pink part of mine is screaming in pain, pain that fiercely combats with the pleasure, until the two sensations meet and mix and become a tangled mass of exploding nerves that leave me abandoned in a puddled lump of used slut.

A few nights ago, sometime in the middle of the night or perhaps in the early darkened hours of the morning, He yanked me from a sound sleep. Literally *yanked* me, flipping me from my side to my back and parking Himself between my legs. I was still fighting the grip of heavy sleep even as He took me. He felt like granite, harder than I can ever remember Him being, I can’t imagine why He was so desperate at that moment. And I don’t care why either. He used me like a wet sloppy rag doll, not treating me like a woman or like His wife. He didn’t talk, the only sounds were that of His fervent grunts of exertion and the rhythmic music of my cunt squishing wetly with each thrust.

I didn’t come then, not that time. The pain of His fingers smashing my nipples and His cock ramming my insides was lost in the sleepy haze that I couldn’t climb out of. Nor had He set out to make me come. He hurt me to hear me hiss, to feel my cunt clench with each wave of pain, to enhance His own pleasure. I didn’t come. But I left a puddle the size of Lake Michigan on the bed. And I’ve come to that memory a dozen times since. He used me like a slutty whore and there is nothing that completes me more than that.

These pictures are from last weekend. The shiny-clean-girl weekend, when I had my slut on high.

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Weighing Beauty

Thanks to twisted_synergy, I have the article I was trying to find yesterday. From Humbled Females, it’s titled Weighing Beauty. I’ve copied the entire text.

~~*~~

Weighing Beauty
Obesity In The Submissive Female

Surely most of us can agree upon which is more important.

~~*~~

The bolded paragraphs speak to me the most. Though I don’t know that I identify so completely with the entire Humbled Female agenda, I do agree with this article and I’m pasting it here because Master will read it here. Sneaky I am. ;)

It was mentioned that we (I) should approach the weight loss in the same manner that I approached quitting smoking with Master’s help. But what I want to point out, and kind of the point I was trying to make before, is this. When it came to quitting smoking, Master never EVER wavered on the fact that I would quit. There was no waffling, no mixed messages, no indication that it might be okay if I didn’t quit. It was a very final, very determined approach that He took to it. And after smoking for 18 years, within six months of meeting Him, I was a non-smoker. His method about the smoking very much aligned with the message in this article.

I’m not sure if I can explain why it’s a detriment to be complimented by Him. To take what bethielou said here; “You wont be successful with weight loss while dependant on someone else to make you do it. You have to want the weight loss, you have to be the inner voice that tells you to put that ice cream down or to not eat that 4th piece of fried chicken or not to graze.”

I never would have quit smoking without Master’s insistence that I would. That’s a fact. I didn’t do it for me, I hadn’t cared enough about me to quit for 18 years. My kids couldn’t make me do it, hell my job in taking care of people with emphysema and lung cancer and having first-hand knowledge of my life on oxygen dying a slow agonizing early death wasn’t enough to make me quit. But I did it for Him in a very short, very controlled way. I *was* dependent on Him to make me do it. I am “a creature in need of leadership”.

This is in NO way insinuating that you are bad submissive (as you mentioned in your comment). We all get different things out of our relationships. But what you said about the “inner voice” is what I’m trying to explain I think. Master IS my inner voice. I’ve given up my own internal compass because He controls everything. I don’t see myself as an autonomous entity anymore, and I am very very easily influenced by His words and His actions.

I can’t just decide on my own that I’m going to do *anything* that affects or changes His property. From appearance to mannerisms, it’s ceased being my body to control. And I know, people want to shake their head and call that a cop out or impossible, but this is what internal enslavement is about.

So I can think to myself, ‘gee tubby, you’re carrying a large spare tire about your midsection there’ and still be unable to formulate a plan to change it. It’s not my place to do so anymore. I look to Him. I am His. How does He want me?

When He gets strict about the exercise and the healthy eating, I follow it without a problem. He’s shaping me as He wants and I can adhere to that plan. When He starts to waffle, when He’s driving me to McDonalds and buying me flurries or sitting me next to Him on the couch and hand-feeding me cashews and doritos, He’s still shaping me and I obey.

I keep flip-flopping from ‘okay, He wants me thinner’ to ‘okay, now He wants me fluffier’. And when it does come to where I’m standing in front of the fridge and He’s not here and I’m having to pick a food item, I think of the last message He gave me. If He’s led me to believe that He’s enjoying my plump body exactly as it and has no desire for it to change, I can’t change it anyway on my own. Does that make sense at all? I don’t know how to explain it I guess.

Anyway, that’s about all I can say for now. A little birdie (with a large paddle) mentioned that I’ve been quite lax with picture posting so I plan on getting some more naked-kaya up today. Oh the thrills. ;)

~cunt

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My kind of recipe

I was looking up chicken strip recipes on cooks.com when I came across this one. It’s my favorite by far.

FAST FRIED CHICKEN

Telephone book
Telephone
Finger (to dial with)
Car
Money

Step 1: Look phone number up of Colonel Sanders.

Step 2: Use your tired finger and dial the number.

Step 3: Hop in car.

Step 4: Drive to Kentucky Fried Chicken and pay. Only takes 10 minutes (if you live in town).

Yes. I’ll take that one. Because that’s on every diet right? ;)

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It’s a weighty matter

Before I get into that post, I have some conclusional thoughts about the Sir/Ma’am thang. Things that I’ve learned through here and the comments and a healthy discussion. Instead of simply suspecting that some people are just rude, I’ve been educated.

Probably the biggest eye opener was understanding that based on region, social norms of your place of origin and upbringing, using Sir and Ma’am as a basic element of politeness simply doesn’t occur. For me and some others, it’s as mannerly as shaking hands or wishing someone a “good day”. It doesn’t have any other deeper meaning than that. So it seemed to me that there should be at the very least that simple extension of manners to people.

I can see now, how, if it’s not something that you are used to as a basic form of politeness, if you have other ways that you express manners and if Sir or Ma’am is used exclusively in the public scene and it means something else, then obviously it can’t be used as freely as I would use it.

I get that it acquires a new definition in the circle of certain public play venues. Honestly, I hadn’t looked at it from that angle. Sad to say that in my dwindled and tiny existence, I “forget” that there is a huge, multi-cultural world out there. (you mean I’m really NOT the center of the universe? *grin*)

I also had not considered what some people pointed out about how the title of Sir is something that they *only* call their own Dominant. That what is, to me, a generic term of respect, is to them, a title of great significance. Sort of the way I guess I view the title of Master. I can see, when I plug Master in for Sir, how I’d have issue referring to every Tom, Dick and Harry as Master. I only call Master that. I could refer to someone as Master Tom or Master Dick, if that’s what they preferred, but the intimate title of Master all by itself goes only to the One who has mastered me. It implies something more familiar and personal when used alone. So I can see, when one’s feelings for the word Sir match my feelings for the word Master, why it’s reserved exclusively for one person. To use it in any other fashion would cheapen the meaning.

And based on all of that, I’m no longer baffled why anyone would be offended at the use of it, especially if they’ve requested to be addressed in another way.

So there you go. I’m all enlightened and shit now. :)

Now on the “bulk” of the matter. Namely, me.

I’m not going to engage in another “oh you look fine!” discussion. Thats not what this is about. This is about me taking responsibility for my climbing weight and vowing to do something about it.

I’ve been terrible about the exercise that Master wants me to do. I’ve been a complete and utter failure. I was doing really well.. and then Jes came and I stopped walking.. then I stopped watching my diet.. it’s been a mess. I’m a mess.

I’ve developed a very unhealthy food habit. I eat out of boredom. ALL THE TIME. It’s just become habit now, to grab whatever and munch on it when I’m watching tv or whatever. I’m not hungry at all. I just.. eat. I graze. Like a fucking cow.

And I’m beginning to look the part.

So! Master and I had a long talk about it the other night.

Part of me wants to blame Him. If He’d just be stricter about it or be meaner about it. If He’d just force me to obey! But, like He said, until I’m ready to do this for myself, He’s fighting a losing battle. I know He’s right. I know that I want to push it off on Him so I can absolve myself of the guilt of being fat.

If I was following His dietary requirements and exercise schedule I would not look like this. But obviously I’m not. Neither was He making me though. And thats kind of where the problem lies. As soon as He made it okay for me to sit down and munch, to skip that daily exercise, it was all downhill from there.

But the biggest problem was in how He tried so hard to buck up my self-esteem, to tell me over and over that He loves just as I am, that He doesn’t care what the scale says, that I’m “perfect” in His eyes, He thinks I’m beautiful, etc. etc. I then started to lose motivation to improve my appearance. Why should I struggle and fight through weight loss if the person who matters most to me in the world LIKES me fat? Every time I would have even the slightest urge to do something about it for myself, He’d unknowingly and unintentionally, talk me out of it by complimenting me as I am and by not showing any disapproval for skipping exercise and eating ice cream.

It might not have worked that way if we didn’t have the relationship dynamic that we do. If He was just your average husband dispensing compliments because that’s what He’s “supposed” to do, it might not have had such a negative influence on me. But because I rely so heavily on His words and on what He wants, it did create an atmosphere that left me spinning in circles.

Did He want me to lose weight or not? He’d say one thing and then act another way, or say both things, or indicate that He preferred me the way I am. He’d smile at me as I munched on something far off the diet list right in front of Him and not say a word. Or munch with me. I’d say I dont think I’m going to walk (I typoed that with “talk” first. Ha! As if I could. *snicker*) today and He’d say okay.

The only thing He maintained control (and continues to hold a tight rein) over is the chocolate. I don’t think I’m a chocolate addict anymore. I think I’m a secret chocolate admirer, pining away for a lost love. ;)

Anyway, we had a long talk and aired all of this stuff out. There was an article that I read a long time ago (and I think I even linked it here once but I can’t find it) that was about a Master having the right, or even the expectation, to shape His property as He desired. That He’s exempt from the societal pressures of being polite about weight when it comes to His possession. There should be no guilt, no hurt feelings, no hesitations. That’s pretty much what I was trying to express to Him. Stop the pussyfooting, stop the leniency, and *tell me* what You want. What I need is His firm stance behind me so that I can do this.

I don’t expect to have the refrigerator locked or to have Him policing my plate. All I need to know is what He expects and to have simple consequences if I fail.

So, that’s where we are. And to ensure that I take my daily power walk, He’s putting me in the car when He leaves for work, driving me down the road.. and kicking me out. There is only one way home.

Though today I suggested that He get His odometer checked because we were clear in the downtown neighboring community and I was panicking. Home was miles and miles away! He claimed it was only two and a half miles but it seemed like ten at least. But I walked home in just over a half an hour so I guess maybe He was right. Tomorrow I think He’ll probably up the distance to four miles. That’s where I was at before I fell off the wagon and I really want to be back to that distance. But man, driving it in the car makes it seem a LOT farther away.

I have to go make lunch! Damn. Lost track of time there. Bye!

~cunt

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From the Master of kaya

I would like to thank everyone for their comments and opinions and sharing their beliefs and protocols.

Me personally, kaya will address everyone higher than herself as Sir or Ma’am UNLESS said person states otherwise or it’s communicated ahead of time that she don’t address another’s slave/submissive/switch at all. Which kaya has been told to do a few times. NOT to talk unless a person addresses her directly.

With regards to others, they will call me what their owners have deemed necessary even HEY SHITHEAD because that is what their owners have deemed to call another. *Joke to Chance, Roti and pup WINKS*

I do feel special/privileged when another sub/slave/switch or whatever calls me Sir or gives me the respect of a Capital letter when addressing me in text or what not. SO to all those that have done so, both kaya and I say thank you again.

I will have to comment solo on each and every comment that was left to the original post, but this will kind of be an all encompassing comment for now. What I gathered from all the comments is this……it’s a mutual understanding if a person gets called Sir/Ma’am and if said person desires to be call thus. It’s an honorary title given to one that a sub/slave/switch feels said person would like to hear or is respected mutually to be given AND received. And that is the other thing I have heard as well.

That some people DO NOT like to be called Sir/Ma’am or would rather be called by their Name or another address of some sorts. I prefer my name until I get to know a person and feel A)I have their respect to be called a Titled Sir or B)they have my respect and can call me a Titled Sir if that makes sense. Again it’s the Given and Received comment from earlier.

I will have to agree with a few of the sub/slave/switches when someone DEMANDS or EXPECTS for them to prostrate themselves infront of another and call them Sir/Ma’am could lead to issues. I know a few people disagreed with the comment of their not desiring to call another Sir or Ma’am.

I guess without being in their shoes and understanding the situation, it could come off as..OH look another snobby sub/slave/switch…but if the person that is saying that..is a rude asshole or thinks that he can control another’s sub/slave/switch without their owner’s permission just out of the blue…I think there’s a misconception in my eyes..in my opinion.

OK here’s an example….kaya and I are at a munch..and out of the blue some guy/gal demands (keyword DEMANDS) kaya goes get something for them…to serve them a drink or rub their feet because she’s a slave….BUZZZZ wrong answer….I think that is what some of the sub/slave/switches were attempting to get at…..WHEN said person says..OK..I am Dom/Domme…hear me roar..call me your Owner NOW..oh you are already collared..TOUGH…

I hope I am making sense……NOW if we were at the same munch and I told EVERYONE that kaya is a slave and she will do whatever they ask within reason…THAT is another story..then I would expect them to be demanding and ask for kaya to serve them and give them rubs or what nots.

I guess…what I am attempting to say is that it’s communication..effective communication that is the key to our lifestyle…or worlds and our survival in the community. Each has a vision of what their world is like….some are extreme….some are not as extreme….BUT it’s ALL GOOD.

* thinks kaya has rubbed off on me in more than a few ways…babbling and all..hehehe*

Anyways, that’s it for now and again thanks for the comments and sharing recipes and all.

S

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I need a blabber-mouth icon!

More things that I feel like I need to elaborate on. But first, as an aside, I think one of the reasons that Master is insistent that I journal is so that by the time He gets home from work, I’ve spent a good majority of my talking energy here. He gets a little peace and quiet that way. I expect when the journal becomes no more I’ll be gagged a lot. ;)

I know that sometimes I can come across here as… oh.. what’s the word I’m looking for… bitchy/mouthy/opinionated/judgmental/arrogant/dogmatic/bossy. And mean. But.. and I really mean this.. I’m not. I swear.

I love discussions like this. I love words. Dictionaries and thesauruses are my friends. I love debates about words. I love to compare meanings and usage. I like to talk about how it applies to me and my life and I like to hear how it applies to yours. It’s no fun to debate the meaning or usage of “tree” for instance, but a word that can be stretched and twisted and used a hundred different ways and still not be *wrong* is fascinating.

I know that I forcefully dictate how something applies to me, to Master and I. But that’s usually because *how* it’s used in our relationship is forceful and final. Master doesn’t allow a lot of wiggle room once He’s decided upon something. So I present it in the way that I know it, but that doesn’t ever mean that I then think that how you use it/do it is wrong in any way.

I want to understand it, so I ask. I detail what part I don’t understand so that hopefully someone can come along and explain it to me in a way that I DO understand.

I’ve said before that I’m not out to publish a BDSM Glossary. But because BDSM is a central part of my life, I am interested (perhaps TOO interested) in how the words can mean so many different things to so many different people, and yet, somehow, there *is* some semblance of community and agreement among “us”. It’s not entirely cohesive, of course, but I do think that we all tend to identify on somewhat similar grounds. How does that happen with such a vast difference in word association and application?

Though I would love for there to actually be a glossary that was written in stone and that everyone had to abide by, I figure such an occasion will occur about a week after I am erased from society. Because God hates me like that. ;)

Plus, I’d like to remind everyone that the horoscope dictated for me to behave as such today. I am absolved of any and all responsibility. *beams*

Master may not agree, considering how much time I’m spending here today, but shhh.. maybe He won’t notice.

Okay.. a few points.

First, just real quick, there may be some differences in speaking manners because of geography. Though I was raised in northern Illinois, far far above the Mason-Dixon line, my second husband was southern (Mississippi, born and bred), my previous Dom was from Ga. and Master has strong southern roots. His mother was from Alabama and a good portion of His childhood was spent there interacting with the southern way of things. I was not raised to Sir and Ma’am people, but as a submissive adult under someone else’s control, I was taught it. So quite possibly, that’s some of why I’m inclined to sir and ma’am my ickle heart out.

Another quick clarification I want to make. When I said a “bitch waiting to be conquered”. That didn’t quite come out right. I am one who could not submit to a man who isn’t “strong enough” to “conquer” me. Physically, mentally, intellectually… I require that in order to feel safe enough to submit so completely. So I understand that approach because I’ve done it! But, I also think there has to be a groundwork laid before a man can conquer a woman. These aren’t the caveman days where he can just club you over the head and drag you away by your hair (swoon!). So when you don’t allow the base to be built and you start off by blocking his every attempt to “win” you by being a bitch, well.. that’s what I meant. If bitchiness, or impossible standards, are keeping you from even permitting an approach, perhaps the problem isn’t with all the men you are rejecting. I don’t mean any specific you, just a general you. I am not talking about anyone I read. I only wanted to clarify my original statement.

Moving on…

General public vs. play party scene people. I freely admit that my exposure (beyond computer) to scene play party peeps is slim. I am willing to accept that my opinions on the usage of sir and ma’am might be different if I had more experience in the “scene”. What experience I have had was apparently pretty pleasant because I don’t have any bad times to have colored my view.

But one of the things that I keep coming back to is something I just talked about. Status. No matter what, my status is lower and one way to acknowledge status is to give a title to someone in a higher status. So even if JoeBlow CockyMasterPants irritated the piss out of me and talked down to me or treated me like dirt, I would still be required to address him as Sir. Simply because JoeBlow CockyMasterPants has chosen a higher status than mine. It wouldn’t be seen as *submitting* to his masterlyness (or lack thereof) but of illustrating that I am A submissive and my place in things, my status, is lower.

You all raise really good points though. Smart people you are.

I’m still kicking around the idea that Sir takes on a whole different meaning in the “scene” than it does in Wal-mart. I’m sure I’ll have something wonderfully stimulating to say on that. ;-)

Also, Master would beat me if I turned down a recipe that had beer in it so please, share it! Or.. hmm.. beaten instead.. maybe don’t share it! (kidding. Share please?)

One recent comment is from a Dom who says He’d be *offended* if someone continued to call Him Sir. Now that has me all in a tizzy! Offended! Really? I would have to say though, that while I know Master would tell me to defer to whatever title (or non-title) that a dominant specifies, my initial reaction is to say that my rules expressly state that I refer to dominants as Sir so my obedience is going to be to Master. I’d call you Sir and risk your irritation. ;-) And what would you then say, if the sub in question is strictly required to address you as Sir?

I’m sure there is more but jesus, I’ve been here too long already. I gotta go!

~cunt

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Something I don’t understand.

More on the respect and honorifics subject.

I keep hearing the “I won’t call anyone else Sir because I don’t submit to them” stance. And honestly, I don’t get that.

I refer to a man in the store as Sir. I address the young man bagging my groceries as Sir. In no case am I submitting anything to them.

I am referred to by strangers as Ma’am. On the phone, in the store… and never have I felt dominant over that person because of that term. Never have I felt they were acting submissive by calling me that.

I’ve thought they were polite and mannerly. Not submissive. My demeanor when referring to another by an honorific is not one of deference, but one of courtesy.

I don’t get why being polite and showing respect is apparently equal to submission. I can assure you that when Master calls a female He doesn’t know by Ma’am, there is not a chance in hell that He’s agreeing to be submissive to that woman. And He would call you that, even if you are a slave, unless and until you or your Owner request a different title.

I think the lifestyle peoples have warped what was once a basic and common courtesy. Sir isn’t a contract for submission, being polite isn’t a contract for submission. I absolutely do NOT understand the thinking of being rude until someone has performed some miracle of deservedness to be “gifted” with respect. It’s as wrong, to me, as a submissive being a bitch and then claiming that a Dom has to be “strong enough” to break her or tame her or conquer her or whatever else they call it.

I am going to contemplate this while making bread for supper. I’m thinking of trying something new this time.

Italian Herb Bread

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I love it when it’s spot on.

My horoscope for today. I’ll only highlight the pertinent points.

Constraints that might otherwise have limited your learning potential may mean little to you today as you explore your environment. Because you are likely in a curious and controversial mood, you may find yourself drawn to subject matter that is quite unconventional.

You likely will not agree with every piece of information you encounter, but your overall view of the world can change as a result of your willingness to think critically about it..

You will not hesitate to expose yourself to unconventional opinions and beliefs today, however difficult they may be for you to grasp.

From the DailyOM.

See? It’s the universe telling me to be controversial!

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