This is where I would like to live. It’s – in my mind at least – my little slice of paradise.
I could live in that little one room dome like place they have – or one of their single rooms that’s a 30 second walk away from the swimming pool.
I think my brain could be happy there. In fact, I’d like to buy the whole property one day and spend a few years landscaping it into something that is truly a slice of heaven – W’s heaven !! :))) A sanctuary for my brain.
Crazy isn’t it – that I have to refer to my brain in the 3rd person – as some entity that I could one day have to introduce you to. In this case, I feel like I’m baby sitting it- trying to find a place will it will be eternally happy and leave me alone to live my life in peace.
Like the sign says, I don’t seek to be rich, I don’t seek to be famous, I don’t even seek assets of any sort. I simply seek to be happy.
One day at a time, today seemed to be better than yesterday, and yesterday was infinitely better than the day before that.
Tonight, when everybody is fast asleep, like at about 1 or 2 am, just an hour or so before I do my stargazing and reading – I’m going to slowly open the gate making sure to turn all cameras the opposite way after which I’ll push my motorcycle off the property and glide it down the lane where I’ll start it far away from anyone’s ears or eyes.
Then my intention is to ride it all the way to 7Eleven some 50 minutes away – have a 2am coffee, eat one of those grilled cheese sandwiches that I love so much, fill up my backpack with goodies to keep me locked inside my home for another week, and ride back home – push the bike onto the property manually, silently close the gate and climb up into the window sill to disappear into my home.
I don’t go out the front door any longer, I always climb in and out of the window sill – it fits my character better.
I’m 2 days into my 6th month of being a recluse. Tonight – feels like an adventure awaits. I’ll have my riot police grade pepper spray in hand just in case some dogs mean to make a meal out of my leg, I’ll have 2 backpacks to fill up with food – I think it’ll be fun.
I haven’t been to 7Eleven in half a year’s time. When I lived at iPremium condo I’d just cross OnNut’s soi 81 and would a 4x per night visitor of that convenience store – buying every cheese flavored Makado hickory sticks I could get my paws on. I’d walk around the condo starting at midnight, gifting myself one visit across the street if I make it to the top of the next hour without taking a single break.
At my 1am break I’d normally stroll over to 7Eleven’s cooler to buy myself a sugar free coconut water and a bag of pistachios.
My 2am break normally had me being a bad girl and buying a can of Coke Zero.
Because my 2-3 am walks and my 3-4 am walks were done with Kettlebells in hand, those reward visits had me snacking on those Makado hickory sticks because I was hungry and I’d buy a protein shake to calm my muscles which had been hauling either the 6kg , the 8kg or the one huge 16kg kettlebell for 120 minutes straight.
My 5am treat had me buying nothing but these 10 baht cool compresses for the face to cool me down as by that time I had been walking for 5 continuous hours.
I would be dragging my feet from 5am until 6am looking up at the sky constantly for signs that dawn’s first light would crack the pitch black sky and when it did I’d always smile and pound my heart in triumph.
I’m thinking I could do something similar if I lived on or around this favorite pool of mine. But mostly, I think I’d like to hear the voice of random kids swimming in the pool in the hot afternoons just to remind me that the world does exist outside of these four walls.
I’m approaching half of a damn year away from society and my brain hates me for the solitary confinement I’ve made it exist in. Twice today it wanted to erupt and I simply closed the curtains, aimed the air conditioner and the fan below right at my bed and layed down to read Neuromancer.
Doing so kills my brain’s ability to become unhinged. My walks outside at night around the driveway in circles until I hit 10,000 steps similarly keep it locked up in solitary confinement as does my star gazing and 3am reading.
What I’m saying is that this isn’t so much my home as it is a maximum security prison for my mind. And its working – I’m being more and more productive with my writing – able to write for long periods of time now without my neurons launching a white noise offensive against me – its like they’ve sort of given up – mostly.
It’s why this 1am ride I have planned to 7 Eleven is more of a test to see what happens when I break the pattern so much. Uh, if this was actually a prison – my actions tonight would be like a conjugal visit where the prisoner gets to see a nicer part of the prison and enjoy some stimulating interaction. Now I’m not saying that eating a grilled cheese sandwich and sipping on a coca cola zero at 2am is the equivalent of sex for my brain – sadly there’s no short time hotels in the middle of nowhere so one does the best with what one has.
A true conjugal visit for me would be to be daring enough to rent this poolside villa for 2 days on a weekend and see what happens.
Am I ok to live in a city yet? This is the end goal of this whole living in seclusion experiment. So maybe I take baby steps and live at a place that is pleasant to my senses for 48 hours and then return my brain to the maximum security prison of my home for the rest of the week and see how it copes.
If it behaves, maybe I spend 3-4 days, or a week if I’m lucky.
See, I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that my time living in solitude will come to and end on October 21st, 2028 – exactly two years to the day that I moved back home and shut myself off from society altogether.
I’m reminding myself – reminding you – that I only have 1.5 years of my self-imposed sentence left to serve.
Whatever progress has been made with my mental divergent mind in the past 6 months must be expanded on and improved over the next 1/2 year to come. I need to set goals for myself.
And one of those goals – because right now my little white board of personal goals has nothing written on it – I think needs to be to give myself some weekend passes and see how I do.
A second very similar goal would be to spend one of those weekend passes with someone – not a slave – just a friend to talk to and have meals with, go swim with, go shopping with.
And then again – calm things down and reset for another week.
See, right now, though I’m getting better and better as measured by the rapidly declining frequency of my states of uncontrolled depression and accompanying tears – I think my brain needs goals to work towards to make myself happy.
The crazy thing is – I could stop all this nonsense, move into a 2 bedroom condo tomorrow in Bangkok – announce on jaa4u that I’m doing 1 or 2 hour sessions and in the blink of an eye I’d have jumped back into my Mistress self. That would be akin to jumping into 1st class accomodations on an airplane that’s rapidly dumping its fuel midflight and the pilot has swallowed 10 Xanax and is out cold at the controls.
Oh, it’d be wonderful sitting with my feet up, sipping pineapple juice while munching on a freshly cooked piece of crab that I’m dipping in lemon sauce while watching The Princess Bride on the plane’s personal big-screen monitor that my headphones are plugged into. I probably would be oblivious to the rapid descent and the impending nose first crash. It’d be a wonderful way for Mistress Wael to finally move on to her next life.
No, I choose not that path.
I choose to be fine moving ahead as W.-
I’m a little bit Wael, a tiny bit Mistress Wael – and somehow we agree to get along together and my brain accepts that.
Quite an experience to live in fear, isn’t it? That’s what it is to be a Mistress induced bi-polar girl.
Below is where I normally write for only my Patreon and FanVue subscribers behind the paywall, talking about and showing all kinds of femdom stuff swimming around in my mind.
But sometimes, I’m just me – this girl trying to make sense of my life and where its going – and that’s me today. So no paywall.
It’s one thing to be sick – like a doctor telling me I have 1 year to live and to get my things in order – I could almost appreciate the simpleness and the finality of being faced with such a thing.
However, it is quite another thing to being at the very least – quirky in the way I think and the way I go about things – and at the worst being somewhat bi-polar and a highly anxious girl because of what society has moulded me into.
I know I can get better – I’ve demonstrated that over the past two years. The question is, how much better can I get? Normal? Passably normal?
My feelings on the matter are that being not just a Mistress – but a super extreme Mistress has scarred me forever and I’ll never be the sweet and innocent – somewhat naive girl I loved being.
I used to be this girl:
That was me after losing 20kgs of fat from doing all those nightly 6 hour marathons for all of 2023 – trying to get over long covid and trying to avoid the inevitable mental breakdown that was coming for me.
This was me the day I moved into the house I built – move in day was June 2nd, 2024 :
I was still very, very fucked up when I took this video.
Let me try and find the last photo I had taken where I was normal, here:
That was my first ever session, 4 hours of me doing my nails, at first with my heels in his mouth and later me sitting on him as I did my nails.
I thought that’s what femdom was – that was to be the extent of it, that all my sessions would be like that.
Little did I know that I’d soon be taking slaves so far past their limits that they’d almost die every night before like some invisible ghostly hand of mine would grab them by the collar and bring them back to life.
Again and again. It was like being in the movie Flatliners – only it wasn’t a movie.
Can you see why my personal dreams are of lovely, sweet and quiet places like the pool resort above?
Part of the story of why I have to live in total isolation away from society, living in the middle of nowhere is that it is like a giant reset.
There’s no reset button in life – one has to make their own, and this is mine.
I built a house in the middle of nowhere – one that is a 1 hour ride to the nearest 7 Eleven convenience store, one where there’s a hundred million stars in the sky at night, one where I don’t have to talk to anyone.
Therapy. Self therapy.
One day when my parents are no longer with me and all this land is mine to do with as I choose – I’m going to knock down my sister’s house and build a 2 story guest house with an observatory on top. Just in the off chance that there’s someone else out there who needs a reset button – I’ll design one for him … or her … and they can stay and pay whatever they see fit, until they recover.
Anyways, I feel I should end the blog here as I’m feeling emotional that that usually is a prelude to an oncoming depression storm so I’ll post this, turn out the lights and fall into the world of Neuromancer for a few hours until I feel ready to write again.
Love you 🙂
W.-