Tonight i successfully strangled myself autoerotically.
I havent been really active recently. As i had little alternatives. But I didnt miss it too much, anyway. I let dally away several occasions. And it was ok, it wasnt like something was lacking.
Nevertheless i kept up good old habits. But the thing is, collecting just doesnt get me into the mood anymore. And i just realise now how essential that is, to act it out, i really need the pictures!
But all the lurking aroung photosites (flickr, deviantart, modelmayhem) or online fashion catalogues (next, nordstriom, albamoda) nearly doesnt get me anywhere, this inner certainty about the necessity to be done by a mature female, i touched it again today, but it is fading, it looses its structure and all the pictures melt down to be no more than those of erveryday women, not executrices, and thats right what they are respectively are not.
The key of understanding the importance of collecting, is that the women all are untouchable. This is weaker on the screen than the direct perception of respective women eg. in the street, but the virtuality of the pics reinstates some of the untouchability, and if they have this i-am-looking-down-on-you-look or - even better - wear the right shoes, it's like it should be.
As said this is fading, and with it of course my actually living it out on myself.
I still recur to it in my phantasies, but this too is loosing power. I am gradually putting off my strange masturbational sex live, replacing it with plain regular sex live. Thus getting normal somehow, really being surprise by such a turn. Even my ballerina-fetish detaches from the death-fetish.
I am not sure about all that. But i like it. It feels alright somehow.
But I am still not sure...