(no subject)
Yesterday was awesome. I went to a party with my "mans" and we had a blast. We danced all night and our sex poured from every pore. He is the only man capable of making me want him, even when he is just going about his everyday routine. And when he dances...Oh goodness, when he dances the world stops for me. Cocky, sexy, virile...ha ha ha I am so in love. Yesterday we pretended to be on our first date. We needed that. It's been a while since we have gotten all dressed up for a date. We spoke as if we had just met at the party. Every body has to try that at least once. I was turned on for the rest of the night.
Anyways, speaking of love, here is a beautiful fragment of the novel I am currently hooked on, Eleven Minutes:
"Once there was a bird, adorned with a perfect pair of wings and feathers that were bright, colorful and wonderful. In all, an animal made for flying freely and independently, to make happy whoever looked upon it. One day, a woman saw him and fell in love with him. She kept staring at him with her mouth open in admiration, with her heart beating even faster, with her eyes shining with emotion. She invited him to fly with her, and the two of them flew to the sky in complete harmony. She admired, respected, and adored that bird.
But then thought: 'Maybe he wants to see other far-away mountains!' And the woman was scared. Scared of not being able to once again feel that way about another bird. And she was jealous, jealous of the bird's ability to fly.
And she felt alone.
And thought: 'I'll trap him. Next time he comes around, he won't ever leave.'
The bird, who was also in love, came the next day, fell into the trap and was kept in a cage.
She looked at the bird everyday. Her object of passion was there, and she showed her friends who commented: 'You have everything.' However, something strange was taking place: because she had the bird, and she didn't have to engage him, she started losing interest. The bird, not being able to fly or express his sense of existence, started to slowly waste away, losing his splendor, he became ugly, and she didn't notice him, except when it was time to feed him and clean the cage.
One fine day, the bird died. She became very sad, and couldn't stop thinking about him. But she didn't remember the cage, she only remembered the day when she first saw him, contently flying through the clouds.
If she looked inside herself, she would have found that what fascinated her so much about the bird was his freedom, the energy with which he stroke his wings, not his physical body.
Without the bird, her life too lost meaning, and Death came to knock at her door. 'Why have you come?' She asked Death.
'So you can once again fly with him through the skies-he answered- If you had simply let him go and always come back, you would have amired him and loved him even more; however, now you need me to find him once again.'"
Beautiful, right? Feel free to fly.