[hippieflowergirl]

SNIP...

Originally Posted by Boots13

the sabotage of Femme Cannibalism. It's that "friendly fire"

apropos terminology. i really like that. thank you for adding it to the bin i keep my brain in.

there's been talk here of duality that reaches into me right now and has for a while. i dislike the greater vs. lesser paradigms laid on some relationships, hetero/homo/trans/poly/inter sexual and so on ad nauseum. it deprives any supposed "weaker" partner of strength and capability as well as leeching the possibility for sensitivity from the so-called "stronger".

i'm also fixated on the "house divided" mentality of part of our community. i don't remember the exact wording of the saying. something about a house divided against itself not being able to stand. is some of our disapproval of one another due to an ingrained sort of self-hatred provided by a larger hetero-centric community at large? do we try to look and act like the "enemy" (not a literal reference, please don't send mail) so that we can both participate in the superiority mindset as well as fly under the radar. you know the drill: well at least i'm not like those people. i'm normal. no one would even know if it weren't for __________.

there's a book called brazen femme: queering femininity by elizabeth ruth that came to mind when i was rereading the thread this morning. when speaking of a woman the author is calling the quantum femme. it's a long quote but it's a good one:

She's perpetually stuck in a time-warp between a neon bright high flashing eclipse and absolute invisibility. Can anyone see her?

She's here to remind the galaxy that it is possible to be more than one half of any duality, more than just nd extension, an opposite: male/female. Rational/emotional. Butch/femme. So, she's nobody's princess, baby doll, babe. Her ass is her own until she needs a good spanking. Even then, she's nobody's slut but the slut inside you.

Moving in waves - not steps - her posture is regal. Her shoulders are back, she wears the dress before the dress wears her. Or maybe not. Maybe she can't crawl out of bed some days, can't choose the proper costume. Quantum femme knows costumes and weapons are one in the same and she knows all too well the rolling pictures in some minds, of a buxom, tight-waisted milkmaid. Ready-made-to-order. You'd like to think she'll eat you for supper. Lick. Suck. Devour. Let you off the hook? In your dreams.

The truth is she can make you comfortable in your skin even when you shouldn't be, and she wears great pain. There's a reason you'll never see a quantum femme cry in public. Her acid rain tears would flood the planet, crate a burning wave, tsunami undertow that threatens to swallow everything...

So beware. Up close, microscopically, she might not be what you envision. She might shock with her unkempt reality...You can't label her neuroses, identify her predilections, or even predict what she would eat for breakfast. She's slippery, gliding through expectations like spilt mercury dancing down your leg, curdling and separating. She's been many people in many places but somehow always the same.

She's attracted to power because it's like looking in the mirror...Don't touch too softly or she won't notice, and don't wait for an invitation...You can't begin to imagine what sadomasochistic lifetimes she's consente to. Or, those she didn't. You can't know her by defining her parameters, testing her tolerance or crossing her boundaries. Quantum femme has a voracious appetite for the truth and the truth hurts most of all.

If you want to win her favor don't spread out across her mattress like you're waiting for a hot meal. Or preen publicly like a peacock then privately hide in her breasts, an ostrich burying your head in the sand. She's already somebody's mother, siser and wife. She's put in her volunteer hours and doated to charity. She doesn't want to demand that you make her come - she wants to dare you. Make her come so she can go away, leave herself with the pounding pounding of your hand, fist, anything inside her center. Let the vibrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrations on her clit stop time.

She's woman enough to give it up for you and astronomical enough to make each explosion feel new. She won't break or fall into pieces. She knows no singular force strong enough to reach her now...She doesn't crave picket fences, station wagons, or diamond rings. Her people are flawed beyond repair so she's had to learn to love and hate simultaneously. Don't be surprised by the company she keeps.

you've no idea how much i wish i'd said something this remarkable. (or how much i wish i felt the confidence of this quantum femme on at least a semi-weekly basis!)

while i was working the other day i saw a woman who epitomized these words and found myself wanting to follow her home and sit at her feet for the rest of my life, if only to understand what it was that she knew that i've never managed to comprehend completely.

so many lessons. so little room in the bin