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Home Individuality So little done, so much to do!

IndividualityIt's up to me

So little done, so much to do!

Polly, February 4, 2013

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Tags : Cecil John Rhodes

That’s the beauty of it; to offend and make up at pleasure.

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The appetite comes with eating.

Polly

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Maybe I couldn’t make it. Maybe I don’t have a pretty smile, good teeth, nice tits, long legs, a cheeky ass, a sexy voice. Maybe I don’t know how to handle men and increase my market value, so that the rewards due to the feminine will accrue to me. Then again, maybe I’m sick of the masquerade. I’m sick of pretending eternal youth. I’m sick of belying my own intelligence, my own will, my own sex. I’m sick of peering at the world through false eyelashes, so everything I see is mixed with a shadow of bought hairs; I’m sick of weighting my head with a dead mane, unable to move my neck freely, terrified of rain, of wind, of dancing too vigorously in case I sweat into my lacquered curls. I’m sick of the Powder Room. I’m sick of pretending that some fatuous male’s self-important pronouncements are the objects of my undivided attention, I’m sick of going to films and plays when someone else wants to, and sick of having no opinions of my own about either. I’m sick of being a transvestite. I refuse to be a female impersonator. I am a woman, not a castrate.

Maybe I couldn’t make it. Maybe I don’t have a pretty smile, good teeth, nice tits, long legs, a cheeky ass, a sexy voice. Maybe I don’t know how to handle men and increase my market value, so that the rewards due to the feminine will accrue to me. Then again, maybe I’m sick of the masquerade. I’m sick of pretending eternal youth. I’m sick of belying my own intelligence, my own will, my own sex. I’m sick of peering at the world through false eyelashes, so everything I see is mixed with a shadow of bought hairs; I’m sick of weighting my head with a dead mane, unable to move my neck freely, terrified of rain, of wind, of dancing too vigorously in case I sweat into my lacquered curls. I’m sick of the Powder Room. I’m sick of pretending that some fatuous male’s self-important pronouncements are the objects of my undivided attention, I’m sick of going to films and plays when someone else wants to, and sick of having no opinions of my own about either. I’m sick of being a transvestite. I refuse to be a female impersonator. I am a woman, not a castrate.

Women are complex and subtle. Men are simple and direct.

Women are complex and subtle. Men are simple and direct.

By thinking and acting affirmatively in this minute, you will influence the hour, the day and in time, your entire life.

By thinking and acting affirmatively in this minute, you will influence the hour, the day and in time, your entire life.

Men are but children of a larger growth.

Men are but children of a larger growth.

The quality of a person’s life is in direct proportion to his or her commitment to excellence, regardless ofhis or her chosen field of endeavour.

The quality of a person’s life is in direct proportion to his or her commitment to excellence, regardless ofhis or her chosen field of endeavour.

No one has the aura that Gibson comands. Gibson cultivates it and you can hear a pin drop when he talks.

No one has the aura that Gibson comands. Gibson cultivates it and you can hear a pin drop when he talks.

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