I read my comments

Welcome to 2017.   I have nothing new to talk about, except that I read through my whole blog today.   I'm actually kind of sad right now because it's been such a long time since I've done anything horrible worth writing about.  I also read the comments on my blog.  I never have before.  Some of it is spam, obviously, and other comments are invitations to Jesus, but some of the rest are just priceless.  I've been missing out!  I guess this is one benefit of having a blog online for a few years:

"Amazed to read your blog ..............Funeral programs to
memorial programs are gaining popularity because they provide
grievers with another way of memorializing"

"My 10 year old cousin read this story in front of his mother while he was eating."

"I...I don't want to live on this earth any longer."

"Beautiful and inspiring! I have played with roaches in cunt and ass many times! we seem to have common ground here!"

"I don't usually advocate this kind of thing, but in some cases 'chemical castration' or some other libido-killing drug might make a world of difference for you"

"I've been waiting for a girl like you. I want to insert those maggots inside of you."

"this just turned me asexual."

"I had scabies once, caught it from a kitten outside... Nasty little buggers that come alive at night and bite the shit out of you. Learned my lesson, don't pick up stray kittens."

"you sick fuck, try and get some fucking help."

"I really hope you and your kind die in a firebomb. Sad thing is.. I wouldn't even know if it did happen."

"I masturbated to this"

"how is being chinese worse than being a rapist?"

"This is why ISIS bombs people."

"Blowfly, i will fuck maggots with you if want to do it togehter. Any Time"

"I'm glad that you're doing well. Please don't do any more of these things they sound dangerous xx"

It's April 24, 2016. I posted something.

I started my Blowfly Girl blog here mostly because of the feedback I got when I shared that first experience I had with maggots.  I posted that first story first on my Geocities page (yes, that long ago).  So many people had things to say to me, whether curious, concerned, disgusted, or extremely erotic, that I wanted to keep posting whenever I did anything interesting.   That's where this blog came from.  I'm an extremely shy introverted girl who found a way to share my dark side.  Also, to be honest, just hearing from people who found my experiences erotic has been extremely erotic for me too. 

But It's been a long time.  Perhaps I've changed as I've gotten older.  Ironically, I fantasize now about doing things to myself that are more extreme than anything I ever did for real, but I've lost the courage (with exceptions) to actually do them.  And I wonder if people are interested in hearing anymore from an approaching-middle-aged woman instead of the nicely-plump, horny and pervy young girl I was who wrote that about that first experience.  I don't know, maybe I'm wrong.  I can be very self-conscious.  

Anyway, this blog isn't dead.  Not yet, anyway.  I'll continue posting depending on what my readers email me about.  I've learned that for sure that not many people are interested in my job, my dating fails, or my cat, though I'll happily complain about any of them upon request.

Don't comment here - spam has taken over.  Email me.

July 19 2015, not quite a milestone.

I almost had sex Friday night.  Many people I chat with know I haven't had sex since I was seventeen, and by sex I mean being intimate at all with another human being. Anyway it could have happened but it didn't, because of me.

He's exactly the kind of guy I'm attracted to.  Confident, sophisticated, well-groomed, and a gentleman.  Perfect guy, really.  There's no way he'll ever find my blog so I can say his name is Eli.  Eli works with artists to find NEA grants for their projects, which I think is cool, though I don't completely understand how that works.  Eli took me to dinner at a Mexican place in Oak Park called Maya Del Sol.  I was there once before with my dad and I liked it a lot.  And I liked it again this time.  I had fish tacos...pescados whatever.  Eli and I had great conversation.  He's sort of a nerd, talking about science stuff a lot, but I like that.  Eli told me about Pluto and the satellite thing going on right now.  I wish I knew more about that.

I should have invited Eli in when he drove me home, but I didn't.  I know it sounds stupid now but I became afraid of my own motives.

You know the metaphor of being laden down with emotional baggage.  Well I'm carrying something like 200 pounds of old bricks, each one the same, each one for a guy who had sex with me during high school, each brick earned to get attention.  I was a slut for attention.  It hurt me then when I understood what I was doing and that's why I completely stopped having sex.

I'm now twice the age I was when I stopped.  I should have let go of all that long ago, but I haven't.  Friday night was the first time I really had to confront those feelings, and I found them right where I'd left them.  So I didn't invite Eli in.  I didn't feel ready.  We didn't have sex though we both wanted to.  But I think we left it open.  I'm pretty sure he wants to see me again.  I hope so.  Is Eli someone I could get serious with?  I don't know.  I think I could want that.  Maybe.  I hope he's patient.  It's so complicated. 

As much as I'd like a partner, as much I like guys, as much as my biology still tells me I need a mate, I'm still satisfied wallowing in my horrible perversions.  I can still get out of breath, literally soak my panties when I fantasize.  I am not done with that.  I want more of it, for real, not just in fantasy.

My poor kitty Ben is looking at me suspiciously.  He was already an older cat when I adopted him.  Ben came with a lifetime of wisdom of watching humans so he can probably tell when I'm troubled.  Okay, he can definitely tell when I'm opening a can of tuna.  I hope he doesn't know what I think.

I know this is a different kind of post from me.  I hope it's better than nothing.  I've been working on a bottle of Merlot tonight and now I want to forget about Eli for the moment and pollute myself really bad.

Update

I've been asked a lot lately whether I'm going to post any new stories here.  The direct answer is that if I do anything worth writing about, I'll post.  It's been a very long time since I've had the urge bad enough to lose control, so it might not be soon.

Maybe I'm changing as I get older (I'll be 34 next month) or maybe this is just what happens naturally as time passes.  I don't know.  I'm definitely still me, and I do still think of perverse and horrible things to do to myself, just not as often anymore, and I don't follow through and actually do them. That may be for the best because lately my imagination drifts towards things that would be too dangerous to try.  The same kind of stuff, just more extreme.

Other things in my life have been changing too.  The practice I work for has grown and I'm now the office manager.  I'm working a normal 8-5 schedule for the first time ever and actually succeeding.  I replaced my car without help from my dad.  I've moved into a two bedroom apartment.  I have a big orange cat named Ben. 

And I have been on a couple of dates this summer, which might astound some people I chat with.  I don't know what I'm looking for yet, relationship, intimacy, friendship, but I do know that I'm definitely not looking for someone to share my perversions with.  That part I keep to myself.  Anyway, I'm happy that I've finally begun to interact socially with real people again.  Face to face.  That's an achievement for me. 

So that's what I've been up to lately.  It'll probably continue to be a long time between posts here.  I read my email regularly but I'm bad at replying.  Sometime I catch up, sometimes I wait too long on some messages and then it doesn't make sense to reply.  I don't mean to be rude.  It just happens.  If I get in the mood I'll chat on IRC though that hasn't happened in a while.  I find it easiest to chat with people who've already found this blog and know who Blowfly Girl is or have read my first maggot story in one of the hundreds of places it's been reposted.  In chatrooms when people don't know me I scare them away pretty quickly.  That gets old after a while. 

On the subject of emails, I do want to say thank you to everyone who has written just to say they enjoyed my stories or to compliment my writing.  I've been getting more of these recently and fewer propositions for sex or pleas for me to get psychiatric or spiritual help.  So, seriously, thank you. 

Work stuff, this might be a bore.

We've got Dragon Naturally Speaking Legal Edition now! 

My boss sat with me and showed me how to use it and it is amazing.  It's like creepy how well it understands my voice.  I'm a legal transcriptionist, it's my job, so you might think I ought to be worried about becoming obsolete but I do more than just take recorded dictation so no.  I've learned a lot about the kind of law this practice does and I've learned some real skills.  I do a lot of stuff, things a paralegal usually does.  I know probably I would still be valuable even if I never do any more transcribing.  I'd still be here.  We do mostly class action lawsuits.  I can't tell about any details about it because you might have seen our TV commercials depending on where you are (no, not the Mesothelioma cases).  But we really are getting more clients all the time.  Actually, being totally real, my boss is my dad's best buddy and that's how I got this job in the first place when I still had trouble showing up for work every day.  My boss and my dad play golf together.  When one of them buys a new tool, they both play with it and then the other one, either one, has to buy one too.  The same tool.  Every time.  And our families have been together for more than one Seder dinner.  You know, we're very close.  Since I was little.  So I am very grateful that my boss took the risk and gave me the opportunity to prove myself.  I don't think I am going to lose my job because of Dragon but who am I to assume?

...So that last paragraph was just random blabbering into this headset microphone just now.  I didn't edit it much because I realized how different it reads than how I write.  "Seeing" my speaking voice, I wonder if it changes how you think of me.  I'd like to know, if you feel like commenting.  Just curious.

So now I've put up a filth-free post.  I promise that won't become a habit.

I'm okay!

Thank you to everyone who sent me those kind messages.  It's nice to be reminded there are people who care.  But I really am okay.  I nearly deleted that last post right after I wrote it.  Now I'm glad I left it up.  It's the first time I put some of those feelings into words, even just for myself.  But those feelings aren't new.  They've always been there.  So I'm okay.

I had a funny dream a couple nights ago.  I was in the washroom of a fast food place sitting on the toilet.  I saw a roach run past me and go behind the toilet, which sort of gave me a creepy feeling.  I leaned over to see if I could find the roach and I ended up on my hands and knees next to the toilet.  There were a few roaches behind the toilet but they were dead.  I picked them up anyway, one by one, and reached between my legs to push them into my vagina.  I felt like I didn't want to do that but I couldn't help it.  I wanted to feel dirty. 

So, this being a dream, my pants are not around my knees anymore, they're suddenly just gone.  And I'm crawling on the washroom floor, because now there are roaches scurrying everywhere.  I catch one and stuff it inside me, and then another, another, another, and I'm getting upset because they're hard to catch and I need them all...

That was the whole dream.  I didn't get to cum or anything.  I've never had an orgasm when I dream.  Would I do that for real?  I don't know.  I've surprised myself before.

Down

This post isn't something that everyone will find stimulating.  I haven't written much because I've been troubled lately.  I've been thinking a lot about things that happened to me when I was younger.  Things that probably shaped me into the kind of person that does the things that I've written about on this blog.  It's really not good.

When I was young, I was damaged.  As a person.  Not physically damaged; I've done way more to hurt my body than anyone else ever did to me.  I mean me as the core of my being, the place where I think and feel from, where I separate me from the rest of the world.  That's where I'm damaged.  I'm the loaf of bread with a fuzzy oval of green mold on it.  I'm the pretty face with an unfortunate blemish.  Sure, she's nice, but there's something about her...  It's that kind of damage. 

Everyone tells me I'm beautiful in my individuality, but no, that's not realistic.  I am what I do, and I do what I've been conditioned to do.  I was made by my life's experiences, and there have been some particularly bad experiences.  I'm also a product of the defenses I've built up over time, many of which no longer make sense to me, but without them I wouldn't know how to interact with people anymore. 

I act out with my sexuality.  I find beauty in the world, so I seek the opposite.  Where flowers bloom, I'm attracted to dead leaves.  When butterflies sip nectar from the flowers, I seek worms.  But even these aren't good metaphors.  Better, when an animal squats to relieve itself of waste, I spread myself in invitation.  Go ahead and imagine that, and then imagine much, much darker.  In there, in that complete, corrupt darkness, somehow, I find my ecstasy. 

But I'm troubled now.  I wish for that ecstasy more strongly than ever, but as time has passed I've allowed fear to overcome my desire.  Fear of what?  Injury?  Death?  Discovery and humiliation?  I don't know.  I'm so fucked up I don't know what's natural to feel anymore.  I don't know who I am. 

Sorry to be a dark cloud today after not writing for so long, but I had to get that out.  I'll get better.  I promise I'll write something more fun next time.