I was raped.

Whoever reads this, I don’t care.

One sentence a day, as part of my therapy:

I don’t want to be dragged down by carrying your shit.



Sticks and stones may break my bones

Now. Long time no read. I am not even sure if anyone will check this. Anyways. As always, a prelude of some kind to introduce my blog postings.

I am overworked.
At the same time it is strangely comforting to think about all the possibilities that some pieces of paper and coined metal discs have to offer.

I want to see the sea again. I miss it so much. I want to stand at a beach, barefoot, inhale the breeze and just gaze upon the waterfront.
I want to be held. At least sometimes. Nothing sexual, really – just the comfort of another human being close to me.
I want to scream away my sadness, drink away my loneliness, forget about mortality, child birth, family and that strange little demon inside of me that apparently hates me.
I want to have a healthy sleep rhythm and _not_ feel bored by the sheer thought of normality. I want to be myself and somehow still cannot fully relate to that seemingly awesome person that some of my friends describe. I just can’t.

Loneliness creeps up on you. Yet somehow there’s a new pattern. That new pattern involves less sex. Not an ideal solution – but it cuts down the awful experiences too. So, maybe a good thing.

No. Not really. Also, given the POOR quality of porn around, I am living quite the chaste life at the moment.

When the demons ride me too hard, I flee my four walls and go out. It’s fun, sometimes, and on very relaxed evenings great things do happen, yes.

But I’d really like a big, over-dimensionally square body guard sometimes to keep the waves of idiots at bay that seem oh so interested in sharing their sweaty, alcohol-infused and insecure little pick-up lines with me. PLEASE, UNIVERSE!  Please.

I will get a corset this week. I am not able to eat chocolate pudding without thinking of quality sex, it’s not about that, and you know it, the self-loathing seems to be strong lately and in general nobody really has to get this sentence.

I am happy about good friends. Sometimes they are lifelines without even knowing it.

I miss the sea. But I said that already.

Please enjoy my randomness. It needed to be done.

Yours truly,


You hurt my bunny*

Thought about my online persona. Secrets doesn’t equal Lea doesn’t equal Leonora doesn’t equal Liebes doesn’t equal leetscha. Still, it’s all a part of me. I like how we can diversify ourselves today and love to play the game, I truly do.

Leonora turned 30 last week. Secrets is ageless. My personal little nameless me doesn’t really care. The fact that I don’t want to fall in love (let me just have this illusion for the next few sentences, please…) hasn’t stopped others to do so. *sigh*
How do you tell someone that his heart will shortly be broken? How do you get a message like “But I don’t” across without hurting the other?

A friend of mine had a great point during one of our recent talks: No one took care of our hearts when they broke them.

Well then. Let’s stick to honesty. DON’T PANIC.

I love you all, but not like that. And it’s not that I don’t miss decent tongue-kissing.

Appreciate your hearts. I do.


*now that’s a search term to find me here.