Today

There is so much life out there. Pick the very best options for your path, because life really only affords us enough time to get really good at doing a very few things. Where can you best spend your energy in this short existence?

Welcome.

In solitude, I return to my old friends: words. My inkwell brims with stories to share, as always. First I must clear a space in the clutter of my mind to think and write English words, as opposed to  code.

You will find me in these words here, but you will ascribe your own meaning to them, and you may even draw conclusions or pass judgment on me as a result of what you read here. Please remember that you are interpreting these posts, not me. Don't make assumptions without asking me. These words are based in truth, but they are also broad strokes of pure emotion. I reserve the right to grow and change and as soon as my words are written, they are in the past.

I would love a comment from you. I am not ashamed to say that I crave positive feedback. Plus, it is a way you can let me know you were here. Think of these comments as a guestbook. If you read a previous publication or writing of mine, web based or otherwise, I would especially love to hear how you found me.

Finally, see below.

My Crippled Heart

Today I am undone. A far away feeling has overcome me, and further detached me from my already antisocial perch at my computer screen. The blue glow does not warm me. I am without consolation. I am ill from love's rich feast. I returned home tonight to emptiness. Things were taken from their previous resting place in my life, and other things remained mistakenly, serving as reminders that stung anew after already enduring the first bite of emptiness. My words go unanswered as she avoids me. Gone is my love, but what has returned is my full attention to my crippled heart. No more will my feelings be pushed aside with excuses. I have rescued myself, but the cure is no holiday. Loneliness, defeat, and pathos have begun to curl their venomous tentacles around my limbs and torso, dragging me into the oceanic depths of my grief and self-flagellation. All must not be lost. I will surely allow myself to explore this pain, but I will not cede my progress in other personal battles. I'll not let myself down with self-indulgent wallowing. I'll not sink too deeply into the mire. If I learned anything in previous heartbreaks, it is that love can only kill you if you allow it.

Fetish Photo Friday 3-28-14 Part Two

As promised...

Fetish Photo Friday 3-28-14 Part One

Sorry I missed last week! Here are two lovely shots for you who enjoy women in latex.

We can dance if we want to.

Fetish Photo Friday 3/14/14

Latex thigh highs

Monster

It never ceases to amaze me when people are afraid of me. I realize that the ability to instill fear is a gift at times, but feared is never something I aspired to be. As a girl, I learn through implication to infer that I should be ashamed. I am not ashamed, though. I will not apologize for being formidable. I have the good fortune to survive a great many difficult situations, and I don't question it.

And yet.

There are those who characterize my strength with monstrosity. They are those who fear me. They are those who wish to topple me.

I say let them be afraid, and remain afraid, of me. If it is a monster they see when they look at me, then I will remain strong and give them what they want.

Fetish Photo Friday 3/7/14

A day in the life

Call me sir like everyone else? Or call me by name: Butch. See my effeminate flourish and hear my voice. You will not have to look hard for my girlish curves either, if you are able to see past the shroud of male clothing I wear to obscure my sex from visibility.

I am tall and broad, capable of doing the work of men, and yet somehow still another complicated girl underneath it all. I must be here to confuse and beguile, because that's what I do best. Being able to fend for myself in this world of men paints me as some kind of feminist pirate, but in reality, I profit from my ability to assimilate with men. Is it mutiny against my sex? How can it be if I am thereby a successful woman?

The truth is that the patriarchy and all of its components make me want to conceal my sex. I do not wish to be any less woman, I just want to be judged fairly and given equal access, and I achieve that more frequently when I let people assume I am male. It is not a new innovation. Women have done it for centuries. I am not even as savvy as some of my predecessors, who maintained elaborate ruses to conceal their true identities. I don my masculine personae as a farce; a burlesque. I mock the tired institutions of gender and work hard to do my part to change the status quo, and thus be a successful woman in this world of men...but make no mistake. I am butch. I am a butch. I am Butch Mystique.

Look inside yourself, Clarice.