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sprite
6 hours ago
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Fluid Female
United States
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Her Royal Spriteness
RED
Someone suggested i put somethings up here... the art is mixed media, the words a companion peice. probably a poor choice for a first post - not exactly children's book fare, Doll! - but i think apt. i was once told that sometimes, the art isn't the actual piece of work - it is the emotions that it ignites in the observer. anyways, for me, it is simply therapy.
How does Red feel? Like another night of dark dreams, fighting through shadows that resemble fists. There are times when I grow tired of this and think, but only for a moment, that it would be so easy to open my veins and finally be free of them. Then, the thought is gone and with eyes shut tight, I try to remember which is the dream and which is the waking moment and sometimes I remember. And sometimes I do not.
How does Red feel? When I open my eyes again he is standing over me, his dark eyes filled with a hungry longing. What does he want from me? Suddenly I am frightened. I try to sit up, but the best I can do is to lift my head a little ways. A stray thought flits through my head, leaving an ugly feeling, but it is gone before I can put a name to it. I close my eyes again, fighting the panic that suddenly surges through me. Maybe if I think of something happy, something peaceful, it will go away. I frantically search my memory, but come up empty. I’m trying too hard. I give up let the fear take control.
How does Red feel? The darkness is lit by a blossom of red flame. So beautiful yet so sad. Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who fell in love with her loyal knight and she lived happily ever after. Only she didn’t. I look into eyes that are filled with sorrow and horror and guilt and I know she didn’t. Mirrors are not evil by design. They merely show us a reflection of what is, colored by what we know to be true. I once was in love with a monster, a very long, long time ago. Perhaps I still am, despite all the blood and pain, the hurt and sorrow I wore like a Red badge of courage, convinced that I could save him from himself, never thinking that I might need saving too.
How does Red feel? Like rivers, running down your arms, like tears smeared across burning cheeks. Moths fly into flames, we all learn that from the earliest age. And yet, no one tells us why. Is it the heat that draws them or are they just tired of living in the dark? Once again, the image of blossoms rises up in me, watching their wings burst likes super novas and then crackle and blacken. So pretty for the briefest of moments and then gone. Beautiful even in dying.
What does Red feel like? It feels like pain, like anger, like rage. It is the words you spit out, the ones you don’t really mean, the ones you use to hurt. It is the fists that slam into your ribs over and over, the ones that pass through your upheld hands like ghosts. It feels like the accusations you hold within you for years, never letting them be heard, knowing that bulls-eyes are Red for a reason, wondering why no one else realizes how closely they are related to those stupid hearts on Valentine’s day cards. Does no one else get it, that cupid’s arrows pierce hearts? A death blow at any other time and yet somehow on that one day, it is what we long for… Who am I kidding? I felt each and every arrow piercing my skin. Why can’t anyone understand that each time I feel pain, I feel loved? That I am an addict of a different kind, with a cravings that even I can’t understand let alone explain?
How does Red feel? An orgasm is Red. The signs of sexual pleasure all derive from that warm, wet substance that is also life. An erection? Blood filling the penis until it is swollen. A woman’s arousal the same, her nipples, her clitoris, heart beating rapidly leading to climax. There was blood when I lost my virginity and when I had my first period, although which came first is no one’s business but mine. And, when I came home with my first “F” on a history test that I could have easily passed, it was emblazoned in bright bold Red upon the front page. Those three events will always be intertwined in my memory for they were born of the same emotion, one that was as brightly colored Red as my test score.
How does Red feel? How do you describe passion? Each time I sit down to write, I feel woefully inadequate, unable to find the words. None of them does the emotion, the feeling, justice. Fuck is the only word that comes close, and its one I find so beautiful and yet so ugly. Fuck me until I come. Fuck me harder. Fuck you, you fucking bastard, I hope you fucking die. That is passion. I have whole journals written out in black sanford sharpie fine points. Except for one word. Fuck. It’s not a word I use lightly or often, but it is always in Red when it puts in an appearance.
Fuck is not the only Red word. Love and Hate are Red words. Strange, seeing as they should mean such different things. Maybe I am wrong about that. Maybe they are the same word spelled differently? That I even ask that question scares me more then I will ever admit.
How does Red feel? Like betrayal and lies. I once was in love with a knight, fierce and strong, who promised me that no one would ever harm me as long as I loved him true. I wonder, now, whose fault it was that my love faltered, whose fault it was that I discovered how Red truly feels. Those razor lines upon my wrists, the ones I never drew, those tears of blood upon my cheek, staining my palms crimson, those rivers of blood that flow from my body reminding me of the life I held within me for such a brief moment, and of how I let my fear form hands that held it under waters already stained Red. Those are all Red feelings.
How does Red feel? How can you ever describe to someone what it feels like to die if they’ve never died? It is not a blackness, at least not at first. Perhaps, in the end it is, or maybe that too is a lie drawn up by poets who believe that somehow it is like the night falling. It’s not. Black is the color of fear, the fall of night that brings nightmares and loneliness and a longing for daylight that comes so slowly, that is so far away as we measure things in seconds, each breath another small victory.
How does Red feel? I was once thrown through a sliding glass door, a thin cotton dress, fishnets, and thigh high boots my only protection. Red is the sound you hear when you hit something hard and keep going. The sound of glass shattering and the rage of a Monster and the screams that build up in your throat and stay stuck there for the rest of your life until you finally choke on them. Red is not a pretty color and yet, I am drawn to it, over and over. Red ribbons, Red pumps that cry ‘Fuck me’ when I wear them, and yes, the sharp blows of a riding crop leaving Red stripes upon my pale flesh or the sticky Red trickle that I long for as needles break through my skin while I am helplessly bound, both sensations that make me cry out in pain that I no longer can separate from pleasure.
What does Red feel like? I am trying so fucking hard to create new definitions, to write a story, a poem, a drawing, anything that describes how beautiful Red is and, until I do, Red feels like frustration.
Someone suggested i put somethings up here... the art is mixed media, the words a companion peice. probably a poor choice for a first post - not exactly children's book fare, Doll! - but i think apt. i was once told that sometimes, the art isn't the actual piece of work - it is the emotions that it ignites in the observer. anyways, for me, it is simply therapy.
How does Red feel? Like another night of dark dreams, fighting through shadows that resemble fists. There are times when I grow tired of this and think, but only for a moment, that it would be so easy to open my veins and finally be free of them. Then, the thought is gone and with eyes shut tight, I try to remember which is the dream and which is the waking moment and sometimes I remember. And sometimes I do not.
How does Red feel? When I open my eyes again he is standing over me, his dark eyes filled with a hungry longing. What does he want from me? Suddenly I am frightened. I try to sit up, but the best I can do is to lift my head a little ways. A stray thought flits through my head, leaving an ugly feeling, but it is gone before I can put a name to it. I close my eyes again, fighting the panic that suddenly surges through me. Maybe if I think of something happy, something peaceful, it will go away. I frantically search my memory, but come up empty. I’m trying too hard. I give up let the fear take control.
How does Red feel? The darkness is lit by a blossom of red flame. So beautiful yet so sad. Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess who fell in love with her loyal knight and she lived happily ever after. Only she didn’t. I look into eyes that are filled with sorrow and horror and guilt and I know she didn’t. Mirrors are not evil by design. They merely show us a reflection of what is, colored by what we know to be true. I once was in love with a monster, a very long, long time ago. Perhaps I still am, despite all the blood and pain, the hurt and sorrow I wore like a Red badge of courage, convinced that I could save him from himself, never thinking that I might need saving too.
How does Red feel? Like rivers, running down your arms, like tears smeared across burning cheeks. Moths fly into flames, we all learn that from the earliest age. And yet, no one tells us why. Is it the heat that draws them or are they just tired of living in the dark? Once again, the image of blossoms rises up in me, watching their wings burst likes super novas and then crackle and blacken. So pretty for the briefest of moments and then gone. Beautiful even in dying.
What does Red feel like? It feels like pain, like anger, like rage. It is the words you spit out, the ones you don’t really mean, the ones you use to hurt. It is the fists that slam into your ribs over and over, the ones that pass through your upheld hands like ghosts. It feels like the accusations you hold within you for years, never letting them be heard, knowing that bulls-eyes are Red for a reason, wondering why no one else realizes how closely they are related to those stupid hearts on Valentine’s day cards. Does no one else get it, that cupid’s arrows pierce hearts? A death blow at any other time and yet somehow on that one day, it is what we long for… Who am I kidding? I felt each and every arrow piercing my skin. Why can’t anyone understand that each time I feel pain, I feel loved? That I am an addict of a different kind, with a cravings that even I can’t understand let alone explain?
How does Red feel? An orgasm is Red. The signs of sexual pleasure all derive from that warm, wet substance that is also life. An erection? Blood filling the penis until it is swollen. A woman’s arousal the same, her nipples, her clitoris, heart beating rapidly leading to climax. There was blood when I lost my virginity and when I had my first period, although which came first is no one’s business but mine. And, when I came home with my first “F” on a history test that I could have easily passed, it was emblazoned in bright bold Red upon the front page. Those three events will always be intertwined in my memory for they were born of the same emotion, one that was as brightly colored Red as my test score.
How does Red feel? How do you describe passion? Each time I sit down to write, I feel woefully inadequate, unable to find the words. None of them does the emotion, the feeling, justice. Fuck is the only word that comes close, and its one I find so beautiful and yet so ugly. Fuck me until I come. Fuck me harder. Fuck you, you fucking bastard, I hope you fucking die. That is passion. I have whole journals written out in black sanford sharpie fine points. Except for one word. Fuck. It’s not a word I use lightly or often, but it is always in Red when it puts in an appearance.
Fuck is not the only Red word. Love and Hate are Red words. Strange, seeing as they should mean such different things. Maybe I am wrong about that. Maybe they are the same word spelled differently? That I even ask that question scares me more then I will ever admit.
How does Red feel? Like betrayal and lies. I once was in love with a knight, fierce and strong, who promised me that no one would ever harm me as long as I loved him true. I wonder, now, whose fault it was that my love faltered, whose fault it was that I discovered how Red truly feels. Those razor lines upon my wrists, the ones I never drew, those tears of blood upon my cheek, staining my palms crimson, those rivers of blood that flow from my body reminding me of the life I held within me for such a brief moment, and of how I let my fear form hands that held it under waters already stained Red. Those are all Red feelings.
How does Red feel? How can you ever describe to someone what it feels like to die if they’ve never died? It is not a blackness, at least not at first. Perhaps, in the end it is, or maybe that too is a lie drawn up by poets who believe that somehow it is like the night falling. It’s not. Black is the color of fear, the fall of night that brings nightmares and loneliness and a longing for daylight that comes so slowly, that is so far away as we measure things in seconds, each breath another small victory.
How does Red feel? I was once thrown through a sliding glass door, a thin cotton dress, fishnets, and thigh high boots my only protection. Red is the sound you hear when you hit something hard and keep going. The sound of glass shattering and the rage of a Monster and the screams that build up in your throat and stay stuck there for the rest of your life until you finally choke on them. Red is not a pretty color and yet, I am drawn to it, over and over. Red ribbons, Red pumps that cry ‘Fuck me’ when I wear them, and yes, the sharp blows of a riding crop leaving Red stripes upon my pale flesh or the sticky Red trickle that I long for as needles break through my skin while I am helplessly bound, both sensations that make me cry out in pain that I no longer can separate from pleasure.
What does Red feel like? I am trying so fucking hard to create new definitions, to write a story, a poem, a drawing, anything that describes how beautiful Red is and, until I do, Red feels like frustration.
Her Royal Spriteness
1-if someone hits on you and you find them incredibly attractive and decide to go home with them, you don't have to feel guilty the next morning.
2-possibilities. every day is a new day where you might meet someone incredible, your soul mate, and fall in love for ever and ever. And if it doesn't happen today, it could happen tommorrow.
3-you get really good at writing emo poetry.
4-you don't have to pretend to be interested in your partner's interests or pretend to like their best friend.
on a serious note (not that some of these weren't serious) i find that i cope by keeping busy - working, writing, riding my bike, making sure i am getting lots of social time with people i enjoy, and i try not to let myself wallow in self pity. sitting around the house being sad might be easy to do, but it will drag you down and wear you out. find a new hobby, join a club, just keep active.
2-possibilities. every day is a new day where you might meet someone incredible, your soul mate, and fall in love for ever and ever. And if it doesn't happen today, it could happen tommorrow.
3-you get really good at writing emo poetry.
4-you don't have to pretend to be interested in your partner's interests or pretend to like their best friend.
on a serious note (not that some of these weren't serious) i find that i cope by keeping busy - working, writing, riding my bike, making sure i am getting lots of social time with people i enjoy, and i try not to let myself wallow in self pity. sitting around the house being sad might be easy to do, but it will drag you down and wear you out. find a new hobby, join a club, just keep active.
Her Royal Spriteness
My experience with an open relationship. My ex (whom i still love and share a home with... it's complicated! lol) and i had an open relationship. The rule was that neither of us had an issue with sexual relationships with other partners. i mean, i get that, since we are both bi-sexual, that at times she wanted to be with a guy. She had a regular fuck buddy, who became a regular at dinner about once a week and that i considered a friend. Sometimes we would share another guy or gal, and sometimes we would play solo.
The key - we were always up front about it. there was no going behind the other persons back and sneaking out with someone and we'd always make sure the other was ok with it. There were times when i simply was feeling insecure and i'd ask her to cancel a play date and she would, no questions asked.
i have a tendency to do one night stands, but once again, we talked it over and decided that as long as i checked in with her first, let her know where i was, and promised to check in again at a certain hour (she worried i'd get into trouble, understandably) she accepted that.
No, it was not always easy. I'm not a jealous person, but at times there was jealousy on both of our parts. And, at times, there was that hurt feeling that someone else was providing her with something i obviously couldn't. I don't mean to make this sound easy, but it can work as long was you communicate and remain honest and up front about your extra-ciricular partners.
oh, and no, it is NOT for everyone - it's a lot to handle, and anyone in an open relationship should touch base fairly often to make sure both partners are still comfortable not being exclusive - people and attitudes change, and it's not uncommon for one person to decide they can no longer do it.
The key - we were always up front about it. there was no going behind the other persons back and sneaking out with someone and we'd always make sure the other was ok with it. There were times when i simply was feeling insecure and i'd ask her to cancel a play date and she would, no questions asked.
i have a tendency to do one night stands, but once again, we talked it over and decided that as long as i checked in with her first, let her know where i was, and promised to check in again at a certain hour (she worried i'd get into trouble, understandably) she accepted that.
No, it was not always easy. I'm not a jealous person, but at times there was jealousy on both of our parts. And, at times, there was that hurt feeling that someone else was providing her with something i obviously couldn't. I don't mean to make this sound easy, but it can work as long was you communicate and remain honest and up front about your extra-ciricular partners.
oh, and no, it is NOT for everyone - it's a lot to handle, and anyone in an open relationship should touch base fairly often to make sure both partners are still comfortable not being exclusive - people and attitudes change, and it's not uncommon for one person to decide they can no longer do it.
Her Royal Spriteness
Tough question. Here's the thing, i have proven that i can deal with an open relationship in the past. by open, i mean that i am comfortable with my partner having sexual relationships with someone else as long as they are honest and up front about it. If they were to have an affair and keep it secret from me, i'd be hurt. If a boyfriend were to decide he wanted to experiment with other men, i'd not only be comfortable with it, but i'd encourage him and being a party to it, watching him with another guy, sounds pretty damn hot. 
That said, if i walked in on him, and found out he'd been having an affair without telling me, i'd be hurt and angry. hopefully, afterwards we could sit down and talk about it - i do understand that maybe he was too embarrassed or uncomfortable to talk about it to me. i think it would depend on the 'after the fact' converstation as to our 'after the fact' status. it would be hard to trust him agiain, and i'm inclined to say that the relationship would most likely be over.
That said, if i walked in on him, and found out he'd been having an affair without telling me, i'd be hurt and angry. hopefully, afterwards we could sit down and talk about it - i do understand that maybe he was too embarrassed or uncomfortable to talk about it to me. i think it would depend on the 'after the fact' converstation as to our 'after the fact' status. it would be hard to trust him agiain, and i'm inclined to say that the relationship would most likely be over.
Her Royal Spriteness
i started out with sexy photos that i thought represented me, that weren't actually me - i'm really shy about putting up my pictures for public veiwing. That turned out to be a mistake! i'd get just mobbed by guys thinking that these amazingly hot, half dressed women, were really me, so i ended up with my current avi.
easy choice - i think it shows off my sort of bouncy/bubbly personality, and it's of one of my favorite Superheroes (yes, i read comics - nerd!). Also, my very first story here was a Supergirl Roleplay story, so it just made sense.
easy choice - i think it shows off my sort of bouncy/bubbly personality, and it's of one of my favorite Superheroes (yes, i read comics - nerd!). Also, my very first story here was a Supergirl Roleplay story, so it just made sense.
Her Royal Spriteness
You Are Brainy Sexy
You are sexy because you are smart. People know that there is more to you than meets the eye.
You are alluring and mysterious. While many people are intrigued by you, the feeling isn't mutual.
It takes a lot for someone to turn you on. First and foremost, you're only attracted to someone who's incredibly brilliant.
But you just don't go for brains alone. Physical attractiveness is something you won't compromise on.
You of all people can afford to be picky. You are demanding, but you are also in demand.
And when someone gets you alone, you're truly amazing. Not many people get to see you in action.
HA - they got this SOOO wrong!
You are sexy because you are smart. People know that there is more to you than meets the eye.
You are alluring and mysterious. While many people are intrigued by you, the feeling isn't mutual.
It takes a lot for someone to turn you on. First and foremost, you're only attracted to someone who's incredibly brilliant.
But you just don't go for brains alone. Physical attractiveness is something you won't compromise on.
You of all people can afford to be picky. You are demanding, but you are also in demand.
And when someone gets you alone, you're truly amazing. Not many people get to see you in action.
HA - they got this SOOO wrong!
Her Royal Spriteness
Quote by LoislaneQuote by sprite
ok, can't believe i am admitting this, but the whole Disney movie thing... i have pretty much all the DVDs , i once had a crush on Ariel (not as a little girl but as an adult!) and i have been known to wear princessy outfits and dance around the house listening to to the Little Mermaid soundtrack by myself.
oh my god me too, My partner bought me the Little mermaid as a stocking filler for Christmas, I love most Disney animated films like 'Beauty and the Beast' ,'Enchanted'...ha ha...oh who cares...I love it
i refuse to admit how many times i saw Enchanted in the theatre... nope, not saying!
Her Royal Spriteness
ok, can't believe i am admitting this, but the whole Disney movie thing... i have pretty much all the DVDs , i once had a crush on Ariel (not as a little girl but as an adult!) and i have been known to wear princessy outfits and dance around the house listening to to the Little Mermaid soundtrack by myself.
Her Royal Spriteness
Quote by Jillicious
Is this some sort of fantasy where we are all supposed to be sitting on a bed in skimpy lingerie? Then we all spontaneously take off our bras and start squeezing each others breasts for comparison reasons, giggling all the while. And of course this must be followed up by a pillow fight, right?
of course all women do that. we have secret parties where we grope each other. Don't men do similar things with cocks and balls, because I think it must be happening.
A lot of men's thoughts are funny.
btw, did you get your invite in the mail? oh, and you left your negligee here last time, in case you were wondering!
Her Royal Spriteness
i want the team with the hottest men to win! woo hoo! *giggles* sorry, but that's about it - funny thing is, though, i watiress at a sports pub so i'm sure i'll be catching lots of games and keeping up with who is winning all season. oh, and i think we have a team in Seattle, but i could be wrong...
Her Royal Spriteness
Hello Birmingham by Ani DiFranco gets me everytime...
hold me down
i am floating away
into the overcast skies
over my home town
on election day
what is it about birmingham?
what is it about buffalo?
did the hate filled wanna build bunkers
in your beautiful red earth
they want to build them
in our shiny white snow
now i've drawn closed the curtain
in this little booth where the truth has no place
to stand
and i am feeling oh so powerless
in this stupid booth with this useless
little lever in my hand
and outside my city is bracing
for the next killing thing
standing by the bridge and praying
for the next doctor
martin
luther
king
it was just one shot
through the kitchen window
it was just two miles from here
if you fly like a crow
a bullet came to visit a doctor
in his one safe place
a bullet ensuring the right to life
whizzed past his kid and his wife
and knocked his glasses
right off of his face
and the blood poured off the pulpit
yeah the blood poured down the picket lines
yeah, the hatred was immediate
and the vengence was divine
so they went and stuffed god
down the barrel of a gun
and after him
they stuffed his only son
hello birmingham
it's buffalo
i heard you had some trouble
down there again
and i'm just calling to let to know
that someone understands
i was once escorted
through the doors of a clinic
by a man in a bulletproof vest
and no bombs went off that day
so i am still here to say
birmingham
i'm wishing you all of my best
oh birmingham
i'm wishing you all of my best
oh birmingham
i'm wishing you all of my best
on this election day
hold me down
i am floating away
into the overcast skies
over my home town
on election day
what is it about birmingham?
what is it about buffalo?
did the hate filled wanna build bunkers
in your beautiful red earth
they want to build them
in our shiny white snow
now i've drawn closed the curtain
in this little booth where the truth has no place
to stand
and i am feeling oh so powerless
in this stupid booth with this useless
little lever in my hand
and outside my city is bracing
for the next killing thing
standing by the bridge and praying
for the next doctor
martin
luther
king
it was just one shot
through the kitchen window
it was just two miles from here
if you fly like a crow
a bullet came to visit a doctor
in his one safe place
a bullet ensuring the right to life
whizzed past his kid and his wife
and knocked his glasses
right off of his face
and the blood poured off the pulpit
yeah the blood poured down the picket lines
yeah, the hatred was immediate
and the vengence was divine
so they went and stuffed god
down the barrel of a gun
and after him
they stuffed his only son
hello birmingham
it's buffalo
i heard you had some trouble
down there again
and i'm just calling to let to know
that someone understands
i was once escorted
through the doors of a clinic
by a man in a bulletproof vest
and no bombs went off that day
so i am still here to say
birmingham
i'm wishing you all of my best
oh birmingham
i'm wishing you all of my best
oh birmingham
i'm wishing you all of my best
on this election day
Her Royal Spriteness
Quote by PrincessWriter
It is possible to truly fall in Love with someone you met online? I am just asking, because I hear a lot about getting into relationships with people from Lush, and I wonder if it is truly possible to fall in Love online?
Yes, it is. there, my opinion, but i'm sticking with it. *hugs*
Her Royal Spriteness
Quote by lacy46dd
suggestion: boss-proof lush screens
when reading any story, there are sex videos down the top of the right column of the screen; and the list of story-categories down the left column, e.g., anal, cross-dressing, exhibitionism, etc.
many times, lush users are in public, or semi-public environments, i.e.: offices, cafes, universities, libraries, etc. -- and it's indiscrete for outsiders to view these items
for cosmetic purposes: is it possible to move the most visually-glaring: and the large-font sexual words -- to the bottom of the screens, or someplace that the boss can't glimpse so easily, when wandering over a lush-user's shoulder
any thoughts?
amen to that - boss/spouse/family/friend proof - while i do understand the need for advertising, it's a little embarrassing to have it so in your face when someone's looking over your shoulder.