Otherside of nothingness- S. of C.

Originally handwritten- July 14th 2015

I have been to the other side of nothingness.

Where the gong of the bell is so loud that nothing else produces a sound.

 Not even your own breath, in fact it takes a moment for any sensations to materialize again.

 First, sometimes it is the thrusting that sounds like drumming.

Then it may be the trickle of sweat or perhaps it is the taste that you notice first.
Then sweat, smoke and stale blood. 

Then steady, raw scraping of your knees.
 Which is only a minor annoyance in the grand scheme of things. 
A glance towards the  pleasures source, inevitably, you realize you are still moving your hand. 

You also notice it is moving far too rapidly at this point in the game. 

You know where you are now, you know who you are and you also know who this jackal is that's behind you carrying on.

So now that is cleared up, you dull the pressure and you slow your tired and cramped hand's motion. You gulp down a breath or three and sit up straight now.

Although still on your knees, your eyes cast downward. 

You form some abstract thoughts, unfamiliar at first, a brief moment, it is a kind of clarity.

You think to yourself that you are in fact, glad to be among the living, the breathing and the breeding. Joyous to have all these sensations inside you, glad to have them and glad to share them.
Most of all you are so very glad to be a woman. 

Come what may, with rocking hips, rubbing clit's. 
God be damned.
You feel- I am Woman.

Mary Catherine, Cowardice Queen