Wild, Passionate, Empathetic, Lost, Protective.

Use five adjectives to describe yourself, expand on each one.

Wild, passionate, empathetic, lost, protective.

I am Wild. I am the beast. The warrior spirit runs through me, darkening my blood and engulfing my senses. I am ferocious. I am stubborn. I run through the tall grass skyclad and splattered with mud ( or I would could I get away with it. ) I am Wild.

I am Passionate. I live life to the fullest. I breathe deep and hold it until at last my laughter bubbles out joyously or until my anger wells and explodes. I feel everything. My fire burns hot and does not dwindle even in the darkest moments. I am Passionate.

I am Empathetic. I feel as others feel. Though I don't always reach out with gentle hands I sense and know and understand. At times I am waylaid by the emotion around me and can be enraged without meaning it or brought to heart breaking tears over another's misery.I am Empathetic.

I am Lost. I float, adrift on a thankless sea, frightened into silence. I lay upon my back and stare with longing at the moon's glowing face and at the twinkle of the stars. I float. I do not know my way home though I hear the call of a thousand voices urging me to swim this way and that in search of shore. His voice rings the loudest but fearfully I do not move. I am too frightened to reach for his shore. What if I am cast away again into the sea. Better to stay. Better to remain....Still...I wish he'd come out into the ocean to get me. I am Lost.

I am Protective. I protect my son. I protect my friends. I protect my heart. I fight and fury over my companions, never allowing a single blow to come their way. I stand in the path of each arrow with a need to sacrifice myself for others. I am Protective.

Double Post // 30th -31st

If someone looked in your top drawer of your dresser, what would they learn about you?

NOTHING! I don't have a top drawer right now. My clothes are folded and stacked on a shelf on my bookshelf. LOL

Do you ever challenge the rules? Describe on instance.

I suppose every day of my life I challenge the rules. I don't follow most of the rules set by mortal man. I search for my own truth and explore my world in my own way.

Touch me! TOUCH ME!

How much touch is comfortable with you? With family? With friends? With strangers?

Touch me! TOUCH ME!

My biological family is perhaps the only group of people who I do not want to be touched by, besides the odd stranger who gives me a bad vibe or the even rarer person I dislike enough to want to keep at least 5 feet from me. I am a social creature and naturally reach out and put a hand on a shoulder or give a hug good bye. I thrive under human contact and blossom into quite the social butterfly when presented with an equally touchy person.

The only thing I can not stand is when people touch my face. I've never liked people touching my face. Its always been aggravating and uncomfortable for me. I can only think of a handful of instances when I willingly allowed someone to brush the hair out of my eyes or touch my cheek. I can think of only two people who I've ever enjoyed doing it.

James and the woman who was talking to me about Reiki.

James touches my face and I lean into his fingers eagerly. His touch is both a comfort and a burning taunt/call to action. He warms me from head toe and makes me think, simultaneously, of hot, steamy nights in bed ... or .. on the floor ;-D, and laying in bed with my head on his chest and his heart beating against my ear. He does not calm me, but instead incites emotion in me. Deep, never-ending love.

The woman ( bless me, I can't remember her name!) who was talking to me about Reiki at PUD reached out and brushed my bangs from my eyes and I just smiled and continued to listen. It was like sitting at the feet of my mother (not my real mother...what I think it would feel like) and listening to her tell me a story. She was the most comforting person I'd ever met and I longed to sit and talk with her more but she was very busy and I'd already taken up so much of her time. She subdued me so completely I don't think I'll ever approach her again. It felt like my warrior spirit had been tamed if only for a moment. She could have asked me to jump through a flaming hoop and into a pool full of man eating, hungry shark-monsters and I'd have laughed gleefully and done so. Very unnerving!

As for the general strangers? I hesitate at first but once I've gotten a good idea of who they are about I often scare them away because I'll brush my hand on their shoulder or stand a little to close. I have a hard time with people who have such strict bounties. I enjoy affection, even the baseless affection of a would be friend.

My biological family has always treated me poorly so I can't imagine touching them for the most part. My mother gets hugs here and there and I put my hand on my Papa's shoulder now and then but I am not close with them and feel a distance between us that can't seem to be breached even as we sit in the same room.

Sex Change? Omgosh!

If you could change your sex, would you? Talk about your answer.

No.

Lol.

Once upon a time I wondered curiously if being a male would be easier. I had a difficult time with my sexuality and most of all with my femininity. It was difficult to realize that I could be a girl and still be rough. That I could enjoy the way my breasts felt and the way I felt about sex in general without being embarrassed. I figured being a man would be easier. Now? I've realized that being a woman is a beautiful thing and I like me just the way I am.

Besides! James likes my junk the way it is lol.

No Prompt Today

Daniel called me. Can't stand the bastard. Makes my insides twist with hate. I could hear the curiousity, jealousy, and spite in his voice as he asked how my "date" was with my new boyfriend. I wanted to laugh but all I said was. "Boyfriend? You mean my fiance James? Yea. I spent the weekend with him." I could practicly hear his jaw drop. All he could talk about was how awesome he is and how muscular he is and how I'm going to drool over him. I laughed. I didn't tell him but I wish I had. He never..not once..made me orgasam and he claims to be the perfect lover. My sweet, romantic, oh so yummilicous James was a virgin and he has me screamign and writhing and all over the place. Daniel never saw me naked. I was so ashamed of myself with him. So afraid that he wouldn't love me and my imperfections. I tingle as I lay naked next to James and he runs his hands all over me, admiring every bit.

Its amazing the comparison. The difference is shocking. Daniel said "So basically he's the complete opposite of me?" I wanted to say "yea. He's sweet, you're an ass. He's romantic, you're selfish. Oh and he's good and bed." I just smiled and muttered mhmm. How do you tell someone so egotistical, so sure of your love for him, that you don't give two shits if he goes and dies for his country. Meaningless, insignificant, disgusting little prat.

One Skill

If i could be instantly given one skill it would be to speak every language known to man as if I were a native of that language. How amazing would it be to be able to talk to anyone at any time! To be able to bridge the gaps of language and be able to seek knowledge more freely. That would be amazing.

L.O.V.E

Ironic, no?

The day I decide I'll start a journal and find a site with prompts to help me through happens to be the day they ask me to speak of "love." Its as if I can't get enough of gushing and cooing like a school girl over her first crush. He does give me those topsy-turvy, all over, inside-out, butterflies.

My most recent myspace posts have been dedicated and full of sweet nothings ; whispers of a burning desire. Here? I think I'll speak in a darker tone.

Love. Frighteningly strong. Fearfully deceptive. Perhaps he'll love me now in my youth when my eyes still sparkle and my breasts are still relatively perky, when I can still maintain soft pale skin without botox and freaky serums. But what happens when I've popped out a handful of his progeny and I'm not so pleasurble to be in anymore, my hair starts going grey - oh so stuborn grey, and I've grown ... boring? People keep warning me of the "honeymoon stage" where love seems to blossom but soon flickers and dies. What if his love is only infatuation and soon after he's wisked me away into a new home he decides I'm not worth the effort? Tt said (and only because I'm frightened of loss do I even listen) that men often profess strong love when the prospect of a warm body is near ... and he'll love me only as long as the excitment lasts.

What if I stop being exciting!?

I want to spend my life with this man. With his soft, warm eyes. With his sweet smile. A counterpart in him, I see. I love him. I love everything from the dorky way he smiles to the way his eyebrows furrow in worry when I say I've a headache. The way he kisses me. The way he holds my hand for no reason other then to hold my hand.

Could this sweet, dedicated man be a momentary comfort? Could my dreams of a fufilling life and a lasting love be only that? A dream?

I pray to the Gods and the Godesses that he'll love me always, as I love him. For without him I fear I'd crumble.

I will Be Using...

http://www.geocities.com/papabear1701/prompt_library.html

Each day I will post from the prompt of the day.