You don’t know me.
(Well, you probably don’t. Most people who read my writings don’t know me. Not well enough to trust me.)
Don’t take me at my word.
Don’t believe what I say.
Don’t make changes in your life because of me.
Because you don’t really know me. And you don’t know what my purposes are in writing all these…counts…773 blogs.
You don’t know whether I’ve done my research (or whether I’m cherry-picking links) or I’m talking out my ass. Whether I use alternative facts or not. Whether I give two shits (or less) about you and your personal growth, relationship success, or kink endeavors.
I might be trying to subvert the world. Create unthinking automatons. Make kink into the image I see in my head. Or, maybe I want to sow chaos and insanity.
(Sometimes the comments almost convince me of that last one, LOL!)
I may just be WRONG with all the best intentions.
Thing is, I don’t want you to trust me. Not with what I write here. Not even that I look like my pictures.
(I don’t—I really only choose the ones that look FAR better than my daily visage, and that should tell you how hideous I truly am on the street).
Look for ways to prove me wrong.
Make up your own damn mind.
Or don’t. That’s your right also.
I’m just telling you that I don’t want you to trust me.
Unless I earn it.
Image by Анна Куликова from Pixabay