Fantastic, Jilli!

Rock on, Jilli!

Congratulations, Jilli! That's fantastic!

Camouflage

They are my world. I could never leave them. They are what completes me.

And yet, there you are. Just out of reach, never to be had. It doesn’t stop me from trying. In my own little world, we are in love, we have the passion we’ve always yearned for but have never experienced. In my mind, I am everything to you that I am not to myself.

But it will never be; it can never be.

So, I hide.

In a bundle of computer chips and family anecdotes.

Because I don’t know what I would do if you really saw me.

Hooray, Jilli!!!!!! SO very cool and totally deserved.

I haven't done this in a while, and meant to do something totally unrelated to myself, but...what can you do?

Camouflage

When the silk falls aside (it always does) you will see what I cannot hide, merely postpone. You may wonder at the bruises, and you may wonder at the bruiser. How will you react?

If you look past the bruises, accept them, soon you will see past the rings and the bracelets and notice hands that have learnt to kill, past the shiny shoes to feet that strike to the head.

Beneath my shirt lie rectus abdominis, obliques, and latissimus dorsi as well as the breasts you seek.

You will accept what's underneath, because you are the same, but unhidden.

Nice, ita.

drabble

Five foot two, eyes of blue. Clear, fair skin, naturally curly red hair, big tits. Seems like a win on nature's lottery.

My mother frowns at my new black, well-fitting sweater. "It's too tight." I go through a crosswalk. "Nice tits!" yells the kid out of his car window as his buddies snicker and others turn to look. The pickup driver slows down, honks and leers. Two guys walk towards me, elbowing each other. "My buddy likes your tits," one grins.

Food doesn't leer, doesn't give the old up-and-down look. Baggy clothes are very comfortable. People look away from fat women, and a taste of my snark stops cruel remarks in their tracks.

Having experienced both, I'd rather be respected than admired.

lesson one

This is what you do.

This is concealer, to hide your grandmother's freckles.

Here is foundation. It doesn't match your skin tone, so blend well.

Cheekbones are fine; make sure your blush is rosy.

Now, apply lipstick just inside your lip line.

Dark eyeliner, but only around the top two-thirds and bottom third, to make your eyes look bigger.

Monochromatic eyeshadow so no one will notice your epicanthic fold.

Nothing we can do about your profile, though. But for now, that'll do.

I accept it, because it is only intended to make me beautiful. Just as the other girls do.

Damn, there are some good drabbles in here.

However Much I Squirm

Pete Townshend nailed it.

It's there in the song lyric. Here I am, here I stand, officially good at what I do.

Dish me out another tailor-made compliment, tell me about some destiny I can't prevent

I write books. I cook. I fear remarkably little. That part's good.

conscience going on at me and on at me

Then there's that empty space in the middle, what I had, tossed, lost.

I just can't face my failure, I'm nothing but a well-fucked sailor

Watch me hide. Watch me melt into the big myth. Pete was right: there aint no way out.