girlish Quintessensual "He looked northward towards Howth... "There was a long rivulet in the strand... The water of the rivulet was dark with endless drift and mirrored the high-drifting clouds. The clouds were drifting above him silently and silently the seatangle was drifting below him and the grey warm air was still and a new wild life was singing in his veins... "He was alone. He was unheeded, happy and near to the wild heart of life. He was alone and young and wilful and wildhearted, alone amid a waste of wild air and brackish waters and the sea-harvest of shells and tangle and veiled grey sunlight and gayclad lightclad figures of children and girls and voices childish and girlish in the air. "A girl stood before him in midstream, alone and still, gazing out to sea. She seemed like one whom magic had changed into the likeness of a strange and beautiful seabird. Her long slender bare legs were delicate as a crane's and pure save where an emerald trail of seaweed had fashioned itself as a sign upon the flesh. Her thighs, fuller and soft-hued as ivory, were bared almost to the hips, where the white fringes of her drawers were like feathering of soft white down. Her slate-blue skirts were kilted boldly about her waist and dovetailed behind her. Her bosom was as a bird's, soft and slight, slight and soft as the breast of some dark-plumaged dove. But her long fair hair was girlish: and girlish, and touched with the wonder of mortal beauty, her face. "She was alone and still, gazing out to sea; and when she felt his presence and the worship of his eyes her eyes turned to him in quiet sufferance of his gaze, without shame or wantonness. Long, long she suffered his gaze and then quietly withdrew her eyes from his and bent them towards the stream, gently stirring the water with her foot hither and thither. The first faint noise of gently moving water broke the silence, low and faint and whispering, faint as the bells of sleep; hither and thither, hither and thither; and a faint flame trembled on her cheek. "Heavenly God! cried his soul, in an outburst of profane joy..." 991127 ... |sCaRReD*disTrOyeD| Preppy bitches. They take joy in spending their gym time trying to hit me in the head with various types of sports equipment. Then, they make fun of me simply because I am different. I like different music. I dress differently. I act differently. I only have one friend at school. They're popular. They all have each other. They all act exactally the same. They all dress exactally the same. They all listen to the same shitty music. Who is 'They'? The girlish people. 991128 ... trakie i thank God that my parents brought me up the way they did. they told me to go play outside, and laughed if i whined cause i was dirty. they let me touch snakes and bugs and other "nasty" stuff. their only rule for tree climbing was "don't go any further up than you'd mind falling from," and then watched me climb to the top of a giant magnolia. they took me to baskeball & softball games and practice. any injuries were administered to, and then i was expected to quit whining. and although they wish i'd occasionally wear a dress, they don't mind that some of my favorite clothes are fatigues and polo shirts. when i look at all the girls in their tight clothes 'eeeeew'ing in unison at a dead bug, i know i wouldn't want it any other way, and i grin as i kick the bug closer to them. 991128 ... Quintessensual Yuk! With reference to my blathe above, please see boyish . 991128 ... trakie Quintessensual - i was merely remarking on how i was glad i wasn't characterized as "girlish" i do no quite understand your entry because it looked pretty long, so i only skimmed it. sorry if i accidentally put my entry under the wrong word, i was was writing what the word inspired me to say. i'll go read your entry now. 991129 ... Quintessensual Oh, no, trakie! I'm sorry! Your blathe was right-on, excellent. The "yuk" in mine had nothing to do with yours. It was with reference to my error in calling my earlier blathe "girlish". That was a "yukky" error. 991129 ... MollyGoLightly sometimes brad says: "you're such a girl." but i've never really felt too girlish. 000528 ... ladybird quintessential....i *love* a portrait of the artist but girls are not birds and i think stephen was in love with his best friend... 010513 ... unhinged when i was very young, i loved poofy dresses. the kind with the big skirts that caught the wind when you spun around, whipped up at right angles and showed the world your underwear, tights. i remember having tights with ruffles on the ass; maybe for that exact reason. i loved being dressed up, playing with makeup, jewelry. my grandma olga often bought me dresses. i was about six and she bought me a pretty dress to get my picture taken in. i remember it rather well because the picture hung on the staircase until we moved when i was fourteen. it was navy blue with little pink and green flowers with a big white collar and lace at the edges. my brother was relentless when we were kids. to this day, he still beats the shit out of me. around middle school, he started playing lacrosse and eventually football and it only got worse. 'don't be such a pussy.' 'but i have one. contrary to your belief.' i think when we were young my brother wished i was a boy. i think he also wanted to protect me in some sick twisted way. at some point, i traded the poofy lace edged skirts for baggy wide legged pants and hoodies. as girls get older, the desire to spin around with reckless abandon even if the rest of the world can see your underwear marks you as a tease, a slut. i cut my hair short. i realized i liked girls. my intelligence and independence were intimidating to boys. i was a bitch, a dyke, a tease. i couldn't look at my own face in the mirror. i didn't look like other girls, pretty, popular, model girls. i never would. the dreams i had as a little girl of my prince charming slipped away. the only boy i ever seriously dated was a recovering meth addict that needed me so badly i didn't know how to say no to him. i always ended up being everyone else's white knight. and then i met you. and i remembered what it felt like to spin and spin and spin. i felt pretty again. instead of feeling like the island floating in a big sea, i finally could float on the raft you made for me. i felt innocent and whole again. everyday we lose pieces we didn't even know we had, until someone gives them back to you unexpected. the distance between us crushes me. 080629 ... unhinged she tastes just like a woman she makes love just like a woman she aches just like a woman but she breaks just like a little girl bob_dylan via jeff_buckley 080629 what's it to you? who go blather from