(X-rated) June 16 2023, County Rd 519 to Culvers Gap:
Today, Voodoo stayed behind for a dentist appointment while Ray drove me to the trailhead so I could slack-pack a section. It felt so wholesome to hike alone and not have the burden of my pack along with the weight of Voodoo on my mind.
Along the trail, I met a guy named Jute Box. We had been leapfrogging and reading each others trail logs, but kept missing each other just by a few days. So, we talked and I told him how great it felt to breathe and be in my own space for the day. Come to think of it, it was the first time Voodoo let me hike alone. Was it because my pack was at home with most of my belongings?
As I continued on, I came across lots of jagged rocks, which made me feel as though I was still hiking through Pennsylvania. It started pouring rain the last few miles, more so when I made it to the road and started hitchhiking. But, I quickly got a ride by a Japanese man who didn’t speak any English. He had stopped in the middle of the road while everyone was honking and swerving at him, just barely missing him.
I motioned for him to pull over to the side, but instead he just handed me his phone with Google Maps on the screen, signaling for me to put in the address so he could take me straight there. We didn’t speak at all due to the language barrier, so instead he played euro music really loud and had bobble heads placed on the dashboard that matched the beat of the songs. He sang all the lyrics with a terrible accent, then offered me a loaf of bread.
He dropped me off at a local clothing store in Stockholm that I wanted to check out because Voodoo and I had planned to have a date night at some point. However, after seeing what was in modern day apparel, I felt pretty disgusted by what was in fashion. Yet another contradiction in my personality. I wasn’t into skimpy clothing that was shredded and tight. I was starting to feel much more drawn to the concept of modesty. I said this as I was still playing out patterns of lust and vulgarness.
Later at night, Voodoo and I went to play in bed before spending some time with Ray and his wife. After spending some time getting the brains fucked out of me, he was about to unload his cum and told me to open my mouth so I could receive him. Instead, he unintentionally pissed in my mouth thinking it was a cumshot. He moaned gently as he released himself while I excitedly enjoyed his lovely surprise. It felt like his cum was mixed in with piss. He made me gulp down the rest, giving me positive reinforcement that I was his good little girl as he was nearing the end of his stream.
We came out of the room all sweaty and frazzled, feeling like we had “SEX” written on our foreheads. We felt awkward about it since they were my Dad’s friends. Voodoo immediately went to gulp down some water, while I tried fixing my hair, unable to stop smiling.
Ray goes, “You guys could not have made it any more obvious,” he used his hand as a measurement scale and said, “there’s innocent and then there’s guilty,” he moved his hands completely off the spectrum and said, “that’s where you are.”
We laughed uncomfortably while he continued, “I mean, you guys could’ve at least come down one at a time.”
We spent some time with Asta and Ray before heading to bed. While we were hanging out, Voodoo did something that apparently triggered me to a great intensity. I hated that I couldn’t hide my facial expressions or play off the energy when something like that occurred. I removed myself from the situation so I could catch my breath.
I went back upstairs and cried heavily for a while. I knew it wasn’t about the thing itself in the world that bothered me, but that it was an overall feeling of not feeling good enough. The root feeling of not being seen or admired the way I desired. Not feeling enough. Feeling abandoned; a subconscious dependency to lean on a person rather than on God.
He admitted to being afraid that I wouldn’t want him anymore. I told him I felt the same way. I seemed to want so much from my relationships, whether they were my lovers, family members or friends. I wanted to be involved in a certain type of energy and experience.
I was afraid that I wore my heart on my sleeeve and that everything was now ruined. Who would love me if they knew I got triggered by these things? Who would love me if they really knew the way I was?
I cried and told him how I felt undeserving of my apparent desires, because I wanted to live a Christian-styled life, but then wanted to be an exhibitionist who often got tied up. I wanted a g-rated lifestyle, but then appeared to love when people watched me getting fucked.
“Why don’t you feel deserving of that?” he asked.
“I just felt like I give myself such a hard time,” I said, “I just don’t make sense. I get extremely triggered over x-rated movies, but then I do shit that’s like live porn.”
It seemed there was a heavy wave of underlying guilt/shame coming up for me.
“It’s okay for you to play out two extremes,” he said, “you just seem to like the paradox and juxtaposition of it and that’s okay.”
Voodoo calmed me as he reminded me that I deserved only the highest form of love and to not settle for anything lower than that, even if that meant us parting ways. He reminded me that I was worthy of only the best, no matter what that looked like to me. His words felt comforting on the surface, but I knew it still came down to me accepting and being comfortable with how I appeared to be.
I told him how I felt hiking alone today. I expressed how happy I felt and how, in general, I seemed much more content when I was in solitude. I felt bubbly and free, not a worry in the world. But then I wondered if it was just my easy way out. I never had to get close to people and form a deep relationship. I could just be a wanderer and float aimlessly without ever trying to grow a strong bonded connection.
Overall, I really just wanted to be happy. I really just wanted to feel as if I felt God in my heart and that I wasn’t so wavering in my apparent emotions. I still had faith. I had faith I would be laughing about this stuff some day, even though the chances appeared so slim. Beneath that perception, I felt a strong feeling sense that awakening from this apparent pain would be coming soon. I knew that eventually I would see the meaninglessness of it all and that truly, I didn’t have to worry, for the perception of this world had nothing to do with being worthy. In fact, the world was here to show me that I was unworthy. It had nothing to do with Reality. My worth wasn’t dependent on things that faded and turned to dust and death.
Today, Voodoo stayed behind for a dentist appointment while Ray drove me to the trailhead so I could slack-pack a section. It felt so wholesome to hike alone and not have the burden of my pack along with the weight of Voodoo on my mind.
Along the trail, I met a guy named Jute Box. We had been leapfrogging and reading each others trail logs, but kept missing each other just by a few days. So, we talked and I told him how great it felt to breathe and be in my own space for the day. Come to think of it, it was the first time Voodoo let me hike alone. Was it because my pack was at home with most of my belongings?
As I continued on, I came across lots of jagged rocks, which made me feel as though I was still hiking through Pennsylvania. It started pouring rain the last few miles, more so when I made it to the road and started hitchhiking. But, I quickly got a ride by a Japanese man who didn’t speak any English. He had stopped in the middle of the road while everyone was honking and swerving at him, just barely missing him.
I motioned for him to pull over to the side, but instead he just handed me his phone with Google Maps on the screen, signaling for me to put in the address so he could take me straight there. We didn’t speak at all due to the language barrier, so instead he played euro music really loud and had bobble heads placed on the dashboard that matched the beat of the songs. He sang all the lyrics with a terrible accent, then offered me a loaf of bread.
He dropped me off at a local clothing store in Stockholm that I wanted to check out because Voodoo and I had planned to have a date night at some point. However, after seeing what was in modern day apparel, I felt pretty disgusted by what was in fashion. Yet another contradiction in my personality. I wasn’t into skimpy clothing that was shredded and tight. I was starting to feel much more drawn to the concept of modesty. I said this as I was still playing out patterns of lust and vulgarness.
Later at night, Voodoo and I went to play in bed before spending some time with Ray and his wife. After spending some time getting the brains fucked out of me, he was about to unload his cum and told me to open my mouth so I could receive him. Instead, he unintentionally pissed in my mouth thinking it was a cumshot. He moaned gently as he released himself while I excitedly enjoyed his lovely surprise. It felt like his cum was mixed in with piss. He made me gulp down the rest, giving me positive reinforcement that I was his good little girl as he was nearing the end of his stream.
We came out of the room all sweaty and frazzled, feeling like we had “SEX” written on our foreheads. We felt awkward about it since they were my Dad’s friends. Voodoo immediately went to gulp down some water, while I tried fixing my hair, unable to stop smiling.
Ray goes, “You guys could not have made it any more obvious,” he used his hand as a measurement scale and said, “there’s innocent and then there’s guilty,” he moved his hands completely off the spectrum and said, “that’s where you are.”
We laughed uncomfortably while he continued, “I mean, you guys could’ve at least come down one at a time.”
We spent some time with Asta and Ray before heading to bed. While we were hanging out, Voodoo did something that apparently triggered me to a great intensity. I hated that I couldn’t hide my facial expressions or play off the energy when something like that occurred. I removed myself from the situation so I could catch my breath.
I went back upstairs and cried heavily for a while. I knew it wasn’t about the thing itself in the world that bothered me, but that it was an overall feeling of not feeling good enough. The root feeling of not being seen or admired the way I desired. Not feeling enough. Feeling abandoned; a subconscious dependency to lean on a person rather than on God.
He admitted to being afraid that I wouldn’t want him anymore. I told him I felt the same way. I seemed to want so much from my relationships, whether they were my lovers, family members or friends. I wanted to be involved in a certain type of energy and experience.
I was afraid that I wore my heart on my sleeeve and that everything was now ruined. Who would love me if they knew I got triggered by these things? Who would love me if they really knew the way I was?
I cried and told him how I felt undeserving of my apparent desires, because I wanted to live a Christian-styled life, but then wanted to be an exhibitionist who often got tied up. I wanted a g-rated lifestyle, but then appeared to love when people watched me getting fucked.
“Why don’t you feel deserving of that?” he asked.
“I just felt like I give myself such a hard time,” I said, “I just don’t make sense. I get extremely triggered over x-rated movies, but then I do shit that’s like live porn.”
It seemed there was a heavy wave of underlying guilt/shame coming up for me.
“It’s okay for you to play out two extremes,” he said, “you just seem to like the paradox and juxtaposition of it and that’s okay.”
Voodoo calmed me as he reminded me that I deserved only the highest form of love and to not settle for anything lower than that, even if that meant us parting ways. He reminded me that I was worthy of only the best, no matter what that looked like to me. His words felt comforting on the surface, but I knew it still came down to me accepting and being comfortable with how I appeared to be.
I told him how I felt hiking alone today. I expressed how happy I felt and how, in general, I seemed much more content when I was in solitude. I felt bubbly and free, not a worry in the world. But then I wondered if it was just my easy way out. I never had to get close to people and form a deep relationship. I could just be a wanderer and float aimlessly without ever trying to grow a strong bonded connection.
Overall, I really just wanted to be happy. I really just wanted to feel as if I felt God in my heart and that I wasn’t so wavering in my apparent emotions. I still had faith. I had faith I would be laughing about this stuff some day, even though the chances appeared so slim. Beneath that perception, I felt a strong feeling sense that awakening from this apparent pain would be coming soon. I knew that eventually I would see the meaninglessness of it all and that truly, I didn’t have to worry, for the perception of this world had nothing to do with being worthy. In fact, the world was here to show me that I was unworthy. It had nothing to do with Reality. My worth wasn’t dependent on things that faded and turned to dust and death.
