Thursday, May 19, 2011

It's not all sex and spankings

A little present I received from my Master, who is torturing himself by reading Goethe's The Sorrows of Young Werther. We all have our own notions of pleasure.

The accompanying note included this: "Is there any point at all in my warning you not to take every word as a message? Yes there are some touch-points (that's why I sent it) but try not to get nuts, OK?"

But she has been mine. I possessed that heart, that noble soul, in whose presence I seemed to be more than I really was, because I was all that I could be. Good heavens! Did then a single power of my soul remain inexercised? In her presence did I not display to its full extent, that mysterious feeling with which my heart embraces nature? Was not our intercourse a perpetual web of the finest emotions, of the keenest wit, the varieties of which, even in their very eccentricity bore the stamp of genius? Alas, the few years by which she was my senior brought her to the grave before me. Never can I forget her firm mind or heavenly patience.

I'm afraid he was offended when I confessed to laughing at the line about her being a few years older, but I laughed only because this, for sure, applies to us.

His favorite line? The one ending:
their very eccentricity bore the stamp of genius

1 comment:

littlemonkey said...

He is so sadistic he has to torture even himself? and with Goethe none the less (Goethe was a particular torment to me in school). He is a sick and twisted soul. :D

O.G. perhaps you have been especially appointed by fate to torment his head?