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After all these years on this blog...I kind of really wish I would get some feedback on my writing...

Two Cupids Discuss About Serendipity

I don't know exactly how this works.
If they were to break off...and how would they break off? No one knows.
Well, the reason why they break off is an important factor, because if one of them cheated on another--which would be horrible--then the opposite person would be filled with anger towards that person. Maybe he's going on tour for a long period of time and that will be the "beautiful goodbye"

Okay, so suppose the break-off was a neutral one of mutual decision, would they carry on seeing other people while they are still in love with eachother? Would they over that time...fall out of love? And fall in love with other people? The unknown answers can only be revealed in time with however way these events ensue. There is no promise they'll get back together. There is hope though.

Snap

But I feel good when I look good.

Why can't that just be okay?

It doesn't mean I have to be associated with superficial, obsessive teenage girls who take makeup and clothes and general appearance so seriously that they have to make a mask before they let anyone see them. No one gets to see their real faces.
No. I don't do that...I just want to look beautiful to myself most of the time. Sure I spend a lot of time prepping my appearance before leaving the house but that's just hygenic and formal, in my opinion.

So to look good is to feel good, as a result I sound idealistic, materialistic, appearance-obsessed and just plain sad.

This body will soon morph into an elastic-y, tight, firm and lean, slim beach goddess-like bod.
I lied, but it'll come close.

A Fairytale in the Works

I want to write a fairytale about an old wise man who tells a tale about a fair princess living in a barren land in and abandoned castle, not in a tower but a dungeon. The princess had been falsely accused of being a witch and locked away. The kingdom was burnt to a crisp by the fierce, unbeatable, dragon. The last dragon to exist.

What the reader doesn't find out till the end is that the princess IS the dragon, a curse as the result of the queen and king's greed? Or maybe their cruelty? Or maybe the the King is of royal blood and the queen was the abandoned child of a gypsy who had been cursed with the same misfortune as the most recent princess. Therefore, the Queen's mother, the cursed gypsy, a nomadic immortal, must be reunited with the princess to reverse the curse.

The old man lures princes of every kingdom to their death because they are tricked into believing there is a princess, when really the old man thinks there is just a fierce dragon who kills any man who enters the castle.
So what makes the last prince special enough to not be turned into toast?
A special medallion?
Maybe his ancestor was a great wizard who crafted a stone to protect his kin from the elements
The old wise man has no knowledge of this stone/medallion

Maybe the old wise man was one of the brothers who founded the 12 kingdoms, 12 brothers and a kingdom for each, 8 of the brothers were from the step-mother who was a power-hungry woman driven to conquer all the land. However, her husband, the king, divided the land equally to all 12. She made a pact with her 8 sons while on her death bed that they must succeed in conquering the other kingdoms, the kingdoms which belonged to sons of the king and his previous queen. The old wise man is the last of the 8 sons to conquer the last kingdom.

Desire

The concept of desire is a tricky subject to understand. What is your perception?  What is a man's perception on the topic of "desire"? You do not usually think of it as a romantic feeling. In the modern world, I find that desire has been reduced to only holding meaning as a feeling associated with a sexual urge or need. What would you like, what do you desire? Is it like yearning? A twitch in your loins?
A straddle, a kiss, a massage, a smoky "number 10" (female) in the backseat of your car in a parking lot late at night (or really early in the morning)? A leather clad woman with no boundaries, no inhibitions and two quick hands and an open, expectant mouth. They say the tongue is the strongest muscle in the human body. We all desire to be touched and "taken care of" sexually, to experience affection; a physical connection. A trickle down your spine, a powerful gush of emotion provided by another human being; present and dedicated to satisfy you. The attention makes your ego, no, your confidence expand with the most radical elevation of dopa-mine coursing through your body to alleviate your slight insecurity, if only for a night. Oh, but if it were every night...

With Regards To Ignorance

If value was determined by ignorance
then we would all be more meaningful minds
than we ever thought our minds to be
But really, there is value where there is ignorance;
A mind without preconceived notions or any knowledge or understanding
on any specific subject
Is mouldable; maleable for teaching
Fresh learning is more eagerly welcomed...
So, there is value in that, or rather something
a stage before developing full value...
It is potential!
A person may be ignorant, but this should be intriguing to others,
It calls for a strange understood respect--
An opportunity for them, too, to test their knowledge
By spreading it like a pleasent weed.
It is also refreshing to come across
Someone who knows less about a subject that seems ordinary to you.
It is even more impressive, I believe, if a person is very aware of their ignorance;
it expresses a mature level of understanding

But then again, I may not truly know much at all about this whole subject...

--Natalie Klett

To Be Queen of Your Thoughts

I’m sorry for the pedestals I placed you all on,

with the utmost unrealistic hope

But I just couldn’t help admiring you, and I made you look like a trophy;

Now, who else would have thought of raising you up

As triumphantly as I did?

Lately your trophy has gone askew

And the statue doesn’t even look like you

It resembles the crumbled face of someone

Whom lost himself to a battle.

So I placed you on the shelf, and you still held importance

I forced your mangled figure onto that shelf

Because you still lingered in my mind.

 I covered you up with books about how I really didn’t care

Books I wrote, forced into a state of emotionlessness—now that’s something we share.

Then one day the light hit my forgotten golden trophy,

So I knocked down the books, I noticed you—the pedestal was gone.

I sighed with relief but it still wasn’t over

I took you outside and I buried you in the deepest hole in the Earth.

The next year came, and I didn’t feel the same, 

My hope was finally set free.

Still, I longed to avenge you, if only to be Queen of your thoughts.

Then I turned to my window and on the ledge I saw

A boy was staring at me.

I felt something rise up from beneath my feet;

My hands and body coated in gold.

It was then I realized what was happening:

The statue on the pedestal…

is now me.

--Natalie Klett

Porcelain

He held her like Porcelain
A placeholder between their fantasy and reality.
He kissed her gently; their lips parting in synchronicity
Soft as petals, of a white rose but
with a passionate urgency that grows.
We're taking our time and neither of us mind
The nights are stretched late; we burn the midnight oil
There still never seems to be enough hours in a day
Hours that could be spent getting to know you,
Allowing you to know me.
Maybe there isn't much to know,
Maybe the drawers of my personality are shallow & plain.
Maybe my need to twist and distort my body to my liking,
in the face of a mirror, is vain.
My face, retouched or un-fussed, is yours to see
To be naked is to allow you to see my thoughts completely,
Pure--this is our most intimate exchange.
Doubt is cast away, conquered by your sentimental recollections;
they reveal your genuine severity to maintain
This tightly woven connection we now sustain.

--Natalie Klett