I seem to be coming apart tonight. I'm a little frayed at the edges as it is, so I have to watch for any real signs of unraveling. What good is a fabric if its torn apart? It's a shame "what a shame", that's what. And I'm nobodys baby at least not in the patronizing sense. I like cold hard facts accompanied by a spoonful of reality. There's no bursting my bubble anyway...not since I've had it insured (alternate realities don't come cheap ,you know). I'm like Seinfeld's Cosmo Kramer. Serenity Now didn't help him because he was already a foot inside crazyland. What good can come from disillusioning someone like that? Give me my cake & I'll eat it anyway I like, only let me eat it. My way of thinking is a bit off the wall and if your the majority whose kept out of the loop (IE:my head) then it stands to reason that my musings are no more than the rants and raves of a very sad young woman. Beautiful & exquisite by far, but oh so sad, indeed.
So on a night like tonight when it seems I've been carrying this heavy load...lets call it the donkey w/sponges upon its back...and I've slipped and fell into a whole lake! I'm not the bearer of bad news. No, I just hold the key to Pandora's (sister's) box...And HOW! A damsel in distress (although 5'10 & quite capable of war) shouldn't have to bear such awful tidings. Not when Life itself (that heel) is running amuck, flinging hardships around as he would gumdrops to a roomful of school kids. Say it ain't so, lovey, say it ain't so.
So I'll toss the fiddler on the roof some ducats (does he take those?) and dance until my eyelids droop to a most unattractive length & fall into a dreamless slumber...or a nightmare-induced coma...whatever the script calls for.
I'm a bit of a ham, I know it. I'm an old soul who'd rather attend the Opera than watch Oprah. I'm more in my element at the Theatre watching Noel Coward's 'Blithe Spirit' than I am at any new movie showing. The touch of mink disgusts me (I'm an animal rights advocate) but the film delights me. I feel that every woman should be Doris Day (for a day) and Barbara Stanwyck at night. Or Delilah. Take your pick. Whatever sparks your fancy. But what I want to be for just one minute is young and naive again. To look at Life (the blackguard) as a sugar-daddy, showering me with a 22karat gold experiences 24-7. This is my wish. At least at this moment, while my wits elude me and I'm emotionally undressed.
At this moment...I want to feel loved...
~Empress of Felines
Monday, February 22, 2010
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