She

... is more golden than gold:

bright, soft, and precious.

A treasure to hold
in the mind or the heart
or a telling embrace.

Lascivious, pure ...
lustful and chaste
of soul, of spirit, of thought, of face.

Who could know of this woman, except to adore her?
Look on her glory and then look any further?

She stands at the core of what, who,
and why am I.
Expands me,
demands nothing more than

chance on chance on chance

to amplify
the beauty that Life grants our little home.

A dream with no phantasms to blur
or conceal
She brings all that's solid.
She makes me more real.

I have known love, and yet
never known this.
The truth of her eyes, the taste of her kiss.

When I had the whole world, it was still less than this.




Happy anniversary, Ariel April Worthy.

I love you so much.

That Claire is Telling Stories on Me Again.

Is everything I say fair game to put on Twitter now? So I mentioned that some of the non-erotic parts in this erotica book we read were good enough the story could have stood on its own without any of the sex scenes. What exactly is noteworthy about that?

It's not like I was reading two-handed through the whole book or anything.

I Think I Need to Email Somebody

I dunno. Just feeling a little restless or something.

Christ, this is a dumb post.

I Swear to God

... I wrote a blog post about the boy finally taking me out of the box and face-ifying me onto my body (you know, Claire's body when I'm in the box), and how good it was to be seen and held and (the next day) shagged again.

But I guess not, because it's sure not here.

Anyway, that happened.

Fuck, I love that man.

Get on the Ball, Mister

I just snuck a peek at Ariel's journal, and I'm adding my say to hers for the one voted most-likely-to-be-male around here to find the time for us to play that game we made up characters for, like a whole month ago.

That's right. I'm admitting I want to play a doofy kids' game with dice and shit where we pretend to be magical heroes and crap like that.

So, my favorite possessor of outie genitals instead of innie ones, think about how serious it must be if I'm letting on in public that I'm all over the idea of this game.

Let's play.

All five of us.

Soon.

I'm on fire.

Look at this shit, would you? Four posts in six days?

I'd better be careful or I'm going to to get a reputation.

I Know You Are But What Am I?

Someone let the cat out of the bag about this blog and I ended up getting called a word in Japanese.

Tsundere.

What, you want me to do all the work for you? I Googled it. No reason you can't too.

Okay, whatever. "Tsundere is a Japanese term for a character development process that depicts a person who is initially cold (and sometimes even hostile) before gradually showing a warmer, friendlier side over time."

Now this post is a perfect example of that word.

Let's all pat ourselves on the back about the world being just a little bit of a better place now.

That Red-Headed She-Devil!

Guys, please! Enough already!

Oh my god, they just keep going on about how sad and lonely I must be stuck in my box without a body and not getting all the hugs and kisses and sex they're getting ... it's enough to drive a girl cray-fucking-zee.

I mean, I have gone literally YEARS without getting out of the box. And Claire knows this even if Sash and Aers don't. As for our ever-fretful boyfriend, he of ALL people ought to get me well enough to know that

I'M FINE.

Being stuck in a box for months at a time is nowhere near as bad as constantly hearing people moaning about how guilty they feel that I'm stuck in a box.

What part of "I'm totally used to it and I love eavesdropping on hot poly sex and as long as I'm in here I don't have to be all sensitive with everybody's feelings or put on my mask of sarcasm or any of that stuff" do they not understand? Claire's been in the box. She knows how chill it is. And they're all always going on and on about how Claire's the one everybody listens to!

Please.

Stop beating yourselves up. It's literally the dumbest shit I've ever heard.

Also ...

God, I fucking love all of you and you can say anything you want and the sound of your voices will always be absolute and total perfection to my ears.

There. Do you get it now?

So Many Saps Around Here.

Sappy people, I mean. They're just soooo sentimental. It was a particular day of the year. So what? Anniversaries have always struck me as pointless. Are you together? Here and now? That's what matters, not turning it into some kind of endurance test.

Right?

Only this year, everybody remembered I've been here eleven years too.

And it was me they were making a fuss over. Being sappy over.

But I'm not sniffling.

Who's sniffling?

You're the one who's sniffling, that's who. Definitely not me.

...

...

I do love those saps so much.

<3, you saps.

Elle

That Girl ...

Am I really making this blog a thing?

Maybe, maybe not.

But I will say, I got an email from Ariel yesterday that made me think, I really need to make a post about this.

Not the details, just the way it made me feel.

Special.

Remembered.

Cared for.

Like the world has all kinds of gold and riches in it still, which sometimes feels not so likely these days.

So I really don't know if I'm a blogger or not. But I know that girl has my heart, and it needs talking about.

Love your people, people.

Baskingly yours,

Elle