16 days of literature: Particle Ghost
{"And so, the early bird gets the worm but the second mouse gets the cheese" - Steven Wright. For one can risk, but to learn from other's mistakes are even better. To not is to make farce of the tragedy, for "first as tragedy, second as farce" as Karl Marx would put it. The grave of GWF Hegel tends to dialectically churn out great ironies of past tragedies; to positively supersede the tragedy by merely superseding the conditions and forcing the scenario to come up again. Yet outcomes do change when an event repeats itself, after all the repeater learns from the past but might become the dead mouse for which the other mice look carefully and learn from... Today contains many-a-things: two haikus, one from @vdux's own Haiku Contest and one of @bananafish's Mizu No Oto Contest, a three-hundred-worder-mono-paragraph for @vermillionfox and one multi-chained post for @bananafish's Finish the Story Contest... Today's music-aide: "Particle Ghost" [1.] from the Half-Life 2 OST.}
Banners by @f3nix
- Particle Ghost -
- Goat -
Head-rammin' for fun
- head cock'd straight, scannin' Nature
to eek lil' bahs.
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[Image taken by @marcoriccardi.]
Fluffy snug in fluff
"D'aw! Look at kitters sleepin'!"
Slink, tug, rustle, purr~
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Painting by the lovely @vermillionfox
- Blindin' affair -
Two fingers plunge into her cheeks, stiffly firm on the cheeks but to soon descend with the aide of skin. Slowly caressing each section of the face, the fingers softly fall and soon land unto the shoulders. A soft hmph escapes the mouth, but her smile to the unblinded one makes them more anxious to get it started. Their hand grabs one of her hands, her body in flight as their legs both ballet across the aisle; the wait was too much to handle beyond this point. Her voice-box gave voice to her shocked mind, her voice reaching out to her theyfriend, but they simply was too guided to getting to the end and not embracing the journey. Their free hand on the knob, the door moans excitedly and both bodies safely pass through in no rush. The door squeaking further open, her voice rang out again and their hands finally grasped the blind and delicately took it off. Again she was there with playing with her body as their cheeks was being painted red in hurried strokes. With the blind flying to the air, her eyes finally saw the gift they have tried getting for so long and her cheeks reflected her they-friend's cheeks. Her body springing to their hips, they collapsed to the floor but with her pinning them; a stare deadlocked the movement as the eyes relayed what their voice-boxes were failing to even eek out. Her head closed in on the small but emotionally ever-far gap, for which their head followed suit. A ba-aa-ah and purr pervaded the air, on equal tempo and intensity to the jazz of the couple's cupid scene. And while the scene is displayed without shame, they are their own blindfolds to finally enjoy a life that they think is worth living.
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- Prompt by @marcoriccardi -
It is said that Mr. Renhe Ren, of Daochu village, in the province of Quan Shijie, in his forty-second year of life, was seized by a great rage because of his long-standing enemy, who was constantly working to hinder and ruin any of his activities and projects. Faced with the umpteenth abuse, Mr. Renhe Ren felt that his harmony and self-control were going to be lost. He was no longer able to feel the noble sentiments worthy of a superior man.
Then he remembered the words of the wise man. "Sit down along the river bank and wait, sooner or later you will see the corpse of your enemy pass". So, he left the village of Daochu and went down to the river. He found a willow with a wide foliage that bent gently over the water, and sat down in his shadow, determined to wait until the wisdom of the ancestors had brought a solution to his problem.
He awaited for days and nights, meditating. Sun, rain, wind and fog alternated tormenting him, but neither the heat, nor the cold, nor the humidity, nor the insects distracted him from his waiting. Time passed, until one day in late autumn, the stream swollen for the rains brought a corpse to its feet, face down. Mr. Renhe Ren shook himself from his meditation and leaned towards the muddy water, his heart finally calm.
Great was his surprise when he saw…
- Ending by @theironfelix -
Himself staring back
- clear and sharp as he was
with his peaceful face.
Hands reached out to touch,
but only water ripples
with his disturbance
Fingers persisting
in the quiet of the day
- his mind wondered now
Not for why or how,
nor of the creek's creed in this
nor for what or where
For the eyes' quiet
did his fingers even made haste
- playing river tunes
The water jumped high
to then land deep in ripples
- which the fingers played
Now the murky gone
- lost somewhere else down the stream
and no more welcomed
His eyes scanned once more
and the light assisted right
- his head reared up now
Despite everything
it was still him - unperturbed
age dialectic
The frogs hopped lilies
with graceful flight in the air
- taking in the sunshine
The flies of dragons
buzzing all about the stream
- gentle the wind was
Chipmunks and squirrels
- nibbling hard acorns
under the nice shade-casts
Pretzel-crossed he was
with the fingers still plunged in
- hands flushed by the flow
Four watery tugs
- his head and eyes looking down
to still find himself
His lips cracked upwards
- the ancient smile repeat
seen in reflection
His body flopped fishy
as his arm sank to the depths
- physics abiding
Head sinking right in
before the rest, after arms
- yet mattering not
His reflection gaze
- but not a particle ghost
his mind and eyes saw
Bubbles came racing
from the mouth of the elder
- reflection reached out
Grasped by nothing
- yet his lungs ever-thankful
to not be flooded
He blinks his eyes once
with before him the great foe:
it is still himself
His arms stretched out wide
arching towards reflection
- stopping near the cheeks
His other hand follows,
acquiescing to restraint
poised by the body
The reflection copy
- nerves relaying the same thing
in near perfection
Heads twisting about,
torsos closing the chasm
- the water moves out
Noses touching on
- the eyes deadlocked in motion
finding a something
The fingers dancing
all over the hairs and the skin
- it was still himself
His eyes again blinked
with an expectation abound
- self-sameness in form
Yet now appears him
for which the water heats up
with passions stirring
But a hush comes through
and the elder's body quiets
- shame plaguing him now
Only one kiss lands
- the elder's eyes swelling with tears
of shame forgiven
His eyes blinks again
- no more of the rival man
but someone else now
His eyes irks in fear
- that someone's slap on his cheeks
forcing recognition
Doggedly staring,
a plea that bleeds from his eyes
- ghostly admission
The particle ghost
- despite the old customs then -
had her lips crack wide
He embraced by her,
returned back what he couldn't
when she despised him
Upon such lesson,
the river ejected him
- his body fishy
Patting off the dust,
his head and chin raised up high
- the sun staring back
The winds whistled high,
Nature refurbished her tunes
- a new happy found
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Two things: had to do some commitments but finally was able to make this and I gonna volunteer to help out an event in my community!!!!~
So's anything cooking this weekend for Victor? (Yes I shall repeat this as I already released a part of my name to the public of Steemit, thusly the internet as well. Also thusly is a word now by Victor GangTM.) Tomorrow shall be a story on the Carrion that I had delayed for a quite a far bit, not purposefully but due to convenient circumstances like introducing Spooky to the, now dubbed, "Felixverse" or my official slogan of monoverse, multigalaxy setting. (To rip but rephrase from Lorerunner's (from YT) Imperium setting where all fiction, or most of it anyways, existed in one universe but in various galaxies; the Imperium doing what it wants and modifying as need be. But sometimes it does act drunk and later rewrites the peck-ups that we just don't see.)
But realistically, I plan on probably releasing a poem on Sunday and enjoying my time at home again: doing stuff like reading, preparing ahead of time to relocate myself, arranging with some steemit users some meetups before I re-arrange that again when I do move and getting cozy with them but forcing the- [now being reprocessed by the SSS, or Spooky's Secret Services:] getting cozy with them by co-writing with them. I like to finally meet some of yah of those that I talked too about meeting up in the near future!!!!~
Click here to vote @crowdwitness as a Steemit Witness!!!!~
To your entry for Vdux's contest - The playful lines speak true and sweet! (You know who comes to my mind when I read your first line! 😉)
Your Mizu No Oto entry summons to the mind the adorable soundtrack of feline happiness!
Great Fox Tale, Vic! With one bereft of sight, the excitement heightens as the two women (the 'bahs' and 'purrs' having me thinking to Saddie and Ashuri) let their hands do the talking as they rush to consummate their love amidst heated kisses peppered upon flushed welcoming skin.
For the FTS - Your chain of haiku flow as waters from the river to finish Marco's story! You had me grinning with the worked in references of acorns, squirrels, frogs, pretzel and fish.
I liked the image of Ren's fingers swiping into the river's answer of his reflected self within the water, muddying it for a moment with the ripples and splashed droplets. He sees his enemy, his self, plunging into the telling waters in desperation to cease what plagues him. The slip of a tear from the forgiveness has me wondering, was the particle ghost he embraces (giving what he feels he should have when she despised him) a love interest who took her own life? (He's releasing the regrets for the past?) Your closer with his head held high and nature's tunes happily whistling was a lovely end.
UwU ~ Thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments! (I've been meaning to ask since when did SBI started giving comments upvotes? What's this secret club I've been missing out on?)
Hue hue hue, that indeed was what I waiting for @brisby~
Very convenient that the kitter look'd adorable in the bed~ c:
I certainly had fun with the two lassies (one trans-fem being referenced with "they" and the blinded lassie referenced with "her"). Probably the most fun I had in a while with a #foxtales contest as I could explode into something nice and happy to read. A pure enjoyment read of two gals having a great time~
Glad that I've nailed this first attempt (it was, I barely edited it after I touched on the very end to fit the 500-word limit); especially with all the references to Nature. Indeed, that's the one magic that I've worked around; to take one tell-tale for another (older) one due to me thinking a bit long on the murkiness of the water (signifying an easy escape from doing a body-in-the-river story and, at the same time, showing an older tale which got murky thanks to the new tale). Unto my haiku-chain, I see you've payed attention to details very clearly and the ambiguity of the particle ghost. The particle ghost being both teacher and a reflection of his love life (of which got tainted by his efforts to become the respectable person he is and now can he only admit to the hypocrisy). At the end, he's been given a lesson in his dying years and finally sees the beauty of his rival's actions; of which leads him to peace finally that he couldn't of have while being perturbed by the rival. (Authorial plug-in: And no more afraid, he tries to do his best to leave the World as it is, to respect the wills of others and believing in his own.)
Not sure when SBI began upvoting comments but it seems a recent thing. Looks like they're doing it across the board. Thanks, Felix!
The long awaited and over hyped FTS essay :p this has taken me a while, because the more i read it, the more i found i saw something else in it, which may not have been what you intended, but hopefully I saw some of it as meant.
I love that you come straight in with the focus - himself, setting up the reader for the introspective nature of the beautiful verse that follow, playing with the water.
There is a sense of trying to reach the intangiable, the ethereal, in touching his own reflection, a moment of wonder at the self. The murkiness, slipping away time the river with the many possible layers of meaning, from new clarity, to the old washed away by the new, and the passage of time. (You manage to incorporate so many haiku elements in to each one of these - so many of them could stand alone)
And then the next bit, am I right in that despite everything, his may no longer be troubled, but he still wishes to understand the truth of the matter?
Then the next few verse, which are beautiful haiku's in their own right, feel like the external perspective of nature, which in a way provides a contrast to his earlier introspection, giving a sense of balance to the rest of the story. The animals featured feel in harmony with nature, the frogs hopping in the sun, the dragon flies catching the gentle breeze, the small animals in the shade of the trees. It adds to the feeling of balance that flow like the river throughout this. I also love how you keep tying back to the river <3
The return to Mr Rehne. Ren, described as an onlooker would see him (pretzel-crossed is just brilliant <3) gives me this sense of him coming back to himself with a new clarity (tying back to the water earlier) then, pulled back to his reflection, it feels as though he is able to sense, and pass below the surface to his inner self.
There is just so much in him grasping himself, seized by his own reflection, rising from below the surface. It feels like only then does he see himself, (and his 'foe') for what they truly are, but there is a feeling of not wanting to, of denial, having to confirm it, leading to a sense of connection, touching noses, examining what he is shown to find his own weight in it.
When he finally comes to see it, he is filled with the stillness of shame, but then he accepts himself with a kiss, in such a beautiful moment.
Only then, the apparition reveals itself, (or maybe more, that he is able to see it for what it is now) with a sudden moment of shock - the particle ghost. (which given that's this also the title of this entire post, feels like a projection of the self, the confident and love to teach and guide as well as some form of ethereal being) Although I am not sure I fully get the reference to old customs?
The returning back verse is such a strong one. The ghost taken as a projection of the self, can be read as the part of him that had rejected who he had become, and so been lost to him returning. The particle ghost seen a teacher and guide, then gift of wisdom, and possibly a degree of self-awareness and self acceptance. The embrace itself equally symbolic <3
The sense of contentment at the end, the tie back to nature and all it had symbolised through the story, is just such a perfect way to wrap it up.
Another brilliant poem, FTS entry, and post <3<3
I'm a bit annihilated by the level of depth shown in the comments. You got some literary critics, by @agmoore and @calluna, that assurge to the professional level. I will just humbly add that your idea for the FtS reminds me of a Renga(連歌, collaborative poetry). A form of poetry from which the haiku was born, specifically from the opening stanza. Probably, a choka (long poetry) would be a better reference as the Renga was collaborative. Your poem is too subjective to enter in the haiku sphere though, and owns most probably to the senryu genre. I loved the allusion to the myth of Narcissus and the blend between oriental and occidental philosophy. An interesting experiment, overall.
UwU ~ Thanks for finally commenting for once and reading!~ (Still love yah, babunia~)
Anyways, I wonder if they extended the same for all else (this will be great in general as it would at least make topics more interesting and our hearts more cathartic). Should've launched a nuke while yah were at it @f3nix, because yer holding back on that cultural knowledge (yah should make a post about the types of Japanese poetry). Of course I misnomenered and defiled the Haiku name, which honestly deserves me to be pimpslapped; however I will raise a point concerning that the bounds of subjectivity is always dependent on objectivity as well (a famous Hegelian thing the Marxists would pick up and finally finish open). Of course I made them stand out, however his subjectivity was consumed and then spitted back out after the dialectic of the water scene. (Which of course yah already highlighted the majority of the themes, and my authorial input that Joan of Marc hid a quiet dialectical theme for me to tug at.) At the end of the day, mines probably is the blurring of all formalism within Japanese poetry as at which "there is a point at which methods devour themselves" (Frantz Fanon).
I think the FTS ending is a real pièce de résistance!
I am amazed by the poetic form that you gave to an ending that is really very close to the sense that I had imagined for this story (even if the proximity to "my" final does not mean anything for the purpose of the contest, indeed, maybe I should not even mention it) .
The versification flows fluently and vividly, letting the sense of spiritual reflections and hesitations of Mr. Renhe Ren, almost like a Hamlet in Chinese sauce, have to find himself and his own determination not to be influenced by a "ghost" that he he himself created and who haunts his mind.
if I can dare a small pedantry, I believe that your poetry, although written according to the formal criteria of a chain of haiku, is however to be considered fully "European" in content, and in this I dissociate from @f3nix when talking about renga, which is a form of collaborative poetry that is based on completely different thematic assumptions (maybe we could try it, sooner or later).
Uw-peckin'-wU ~ Thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments! Now I want to see a @marcoriccardi ending to this to see how much I missed off yer trajectory while tickling yer fancies. Of course I wanted to cloak myself in the methodology of Haikus but then let that method consume itself as I ran into the dialectic of Mr. Renhe (Renshi in my mind for some reason) Ren and the floodgate of Eastern-Western philosophies. I had fun testing the waters (okay blame the river) and seeing where it would go, letting the Objects of the story guide the Subject of Mr. Renshi (there I go again when it's Renhe) while at the same time blurring them with Mr. Renhe's human confrontation with them (like Hegel conceeding to the power of Objects in the Phenomenology or Science of Logic!).
Of course I only make that side snark (not remark) as they are often blurred with no fast and steady lines under Skeptical or Dialectical investigation. And both tend to, regardless, bound our limits of perception even when we stand on the shoulders of giants. Regardless, I would like to see a serious, non-Westernized/Europeanized, renga committed on the dance floor of Steemit after the first QITR has been accomplished.
Heyo! Great multi-entry here :D I love so so much your skill with haiku, how your mind can give birth to those magnificent three liners, each beautiful on its own way... A pleasure to read, most definitely.
Another thing I adore about reading your work is how you can jump from style to style, and be so refreshing and masterful in each one. Your fox tale was a delight to read, rush as rush does heat to the lover's faces, which is the perfect rythm to tell a tale like the one you just did.
Also I chuckled on this line
Because... Goats and cattos haha!
Now, onto the FtS. I can see why you wanted to know my thoughts on your story (just reading your comment!). I can see many resemblances between our Mr. Rens and their self discovery journey, although you dare go much deeper and take him on a ride to the great beyond, That Which Lies Beneath the Surface... I think it is a great fit to use this style of "chain of haikus" to narrate this, as you manage to evocate great images, so brief yet so vivid, one after the other, as those of the half-remembered dream that this kind of experience could very well be. I felt the river twist and turn my own body and mind around with each line.
If I had to choose a haiku which resonates with me the most it would be:
As the crying was something central to my entry. There's something purging about shedding tears, like cleaning oneself from the inside. I find it marvelous how tears can start from sadness, joy, frustration, release, forgiveness, or a mix of so much...
Another Mr Ren, coming back to the paths towards Eudaimonia...
Thanks for a delightful read!
Uw-peckin'-wU ~ Thanks for reading, analyzing and complimenting the work! Thanks for complimentin' me mind and how these styles devour themselves. But yes, goats-n-cats because I got keep the posts self-consistent and referencing each other. But I be enjoying yer comparison of me work with yers to then talk about yer favorite haiku line. However, our Mr Rens accomplished a path towards Eudaimonia and I thank yah one last time.
Like how you emphasized her fingers in her cheeks. Reminds us that's really what the artist spent time on. Yet the blindfold catches our attention.
UwU ~ Thanks for reading and thanks for the compliments!~ Will await yer comments on the other parts of the posts, but I see yah payed attention and noticed what I stressed on.
Haiku throughout with the Finish the Story even. Well done.
Only could you weave together a dream like version using the spirit of the Japanese form in every stanza?
Hey! It was very convenient and I didn't felt like writing in a contemporary format while still keeping the style I've been toying with. Anywho, wanted to play off the Japanese-styled setting while suggesting that he or a friend of his wrote a poem (with the format of haikus) on the matter. And so started off a fun evening of writing haiku stanzas that linked with each other, having fun not only with a 5-7-5 format but hitting (successfully) the 500-word limit. I honestly had to add necessary fluff as I noticed I finally reached where I wanted to be. But what you see here, except at the very end, was completely first-draft and out-n-published as soon as I hit the 500-word limit. (I probably should mention in congruence to combining the haiku format with my style while abiding to a 500-word limit, I wanted to keep going the dialectical theme in the prompt of which I emphasized that through my style and the vast breath the haiku format has for both Metaphysical and Dialectical poetry.)
That's awesome. For this round going to borrow this idea as I think your right that it adds to the setting of the story.
:D :D!!!!~
I am commenting, because I know how we authors enjoy those comments, but can't vote until later, perhaps even tomorrow--but I never forget. Hate it when my VP gets too low.
As for your extended haiku--what great fortune that I just listened to Evangeline the other night. I wondered, as I listened, how many people have the patience for poetry of such length? And then I thought, their loss. People often don't have patience for verse that is any longer than a sonnet.
Your piece is very affecting.
If I read correctly the man struggles for his soul and recognizes that the struggle is within himself. In the end, he is victorious, and I am happy for that.
I think poetry is a good medium for you. This is an expressive form that allows for impression and sensation. These you are good at conveying. Words flow from you with feeling. Poetry is about feeling--of course there is concept behind, but feeling is allowed as it is not in prose.
Reading your long poem was a very enjoyable exercise for me.
UwU ~ Thanks for commenting and thanks for reading!
While I would agree for a crowd like Petite-Bourgeois and Bourgeois peoples that are on Steemit, I would disdain from Proles who do use Steemit as a secondary income and have lil’ time. Moreover, there are Economic causes (which then translates to Cultural causes that sooner or later feeds back to the Economy) that would make Proles and other workers not want to read long things, but it is disdainful when Petite-Bourgeois and Bourgeois peoples that not only have time but also the money to read things like novels but don’t. The real kicker is that Proles would be interested but the education failed them and make them think its bad (that and the cult of STEM which wants to reign supreme when it needs both the philosopher and economist on their sides to make them effective in their capacities and more individual as they help other professions more individual when together). But this is even before we get into talks about how this effects the various genders and gender expectations within cultural expectations...
Indeed, that is a correct reading; this is mainly me taking the Dialectical theme from the start and continuing it as a Dialectician while also playing off my sympathies for Stoicism (not anglo lowercase s stoicism, the philosophical Uppercase S Stoicism). So I wanted to focus on a Dialectical overcoming of being gripped by externals and him coming to realize what is in his control and what is not, but to not excuse himself of his wrongs and make him confront the errors he made. Because at the end of the day, his rival is of the same class as he; his failings is to recognize his rival as his equal, that he possesses the same ruling class status (as Partriach of the village) as he.
I must admit I did have fun in it, here here for another prompt where I can get away with it again.
Damn I liked your entry to my contest but you saved the best for @bananafish!
To be honest I find it hard to understand this post. You added several challenges into one or?
I have to get used to your writing style and need to read if Morea's just twice to understand it for the biggest part.
Finshthestory is so completely different as I expected ... Might be it is my western mind ... Lack of words.. but I think in your story Mr Renhe Ren found himself which was the idea of the wise man.
UwU ~ Thanks for reading and challenging what yah really know about writing. Gotta remember that I am a Polish person that didn’t had the help of learning English from my parents while suffering a speech impediment and being shy as a kid. Things of the past still haunt me and my ways of iteration; nobody was born a perfect mirror of society unfortunately. So there has to be an understanding that I would go out and understand everything so people wouldn’t treat me as some dumb, non-English native. But more importantly, that it would severely distort my understanding and application of things that I pretty much could hop around various mannerisms until people begin noticing and feel awkward with how radically I can shift my mannerisms without second thought. Well, that and I might be an undiagnosed Schizophrenic.
Keeping those in mind, I always found Global North / “Western” schools of writing (here surprising East Europe isn’t considered part of the “West” until we take a global perspective) severely restrictive and against the notions of freedom they always would scream into the air. In the Global Periphery / “Eastern/Non-Western” schools of writing did I found more senses of lingual freedom while these words still having an impact twenty chapters in (I can cite a quite few, but my most favorite one recently is Benjanun Sriduangkaew).
Of course, that and I find the non-mainstream schools of writing in the Global North / “Western” schools of writing infinitely more interesting than the mainstream ones, exampli gratia: Second Belief (JRR Tolkien), Surrealism/Avant-Guarde, Realism/Naturalism and (note the rule of fours here) Eastern European writers like Anton Pavolich Chekov or Henryk Sienkiewicz. (I could go on to talk about Medieval and Old European writings, but now we would have to actually understand the cultures to even get an understanding of them!) However, the biggest thing I mostly do in my writings is to fully mock this “show, don’t tell” rule and show how the “showing” aspect is more-or-less “telling more eloquently.” Because look, every lil’ has to be transcribed to the reader telling them what happened (literally) and what may have happened (metaphorically). I utterly despise “the show-don’t-tell” rule considering everything I have said above and the fact that this just glammorizes the beautiful prose and poetry as more than what even the writers thought it was.
But hey: this is the Internet, not “WesternNet” - so see what yer education had failed to teach... anyways have a Nurse Spooky to calm yer head down:
I understand you @wakeupkitty. Felix writing is not for the faint of heart.
Imagine if I took the time to make like Horror books, would my books give heart attacks?
Ohhhh i love your kid haiku!
that is just the perfect way to describe the way they let out such sweet little sounds
And the onomatopoeia in the Mizu No Oto Haiku is just brilliant. The three lines have a sense of three perspectives, the fact, and the external and internal perceptions of that. There is almost a shallowness to the middle line, when contrasted with the last, what is seen as cute and sleeping, is actually a whole mixture of experiences giving that impression.
Jeez dear sweet Ashley, this is indeed a collection of very fine examples of your skills <3
Foxtales! You create a beautifully intimate snapshot of a moment between two lovers. I have mused a little on the various ways to read the scene and found there are so many levels to this one, although the main ones comes across the most strongly. The language at the start, the hints of an aisle, the wait, the captured desire pulled through from the image made me think of a couple having just completed an official union, which kinda ties in with a lot of metaphors, the connection between the blindfold and the veil, and the removal of it.
It also has the feeling of an intimate surprise, a blind fold tied on, the teasing touch, the leading/guiding through the door, the sensual language taking a more tender tone, leading to a freeing of her who was blindfolded. - if it wasn't for the established connection between them, it has the vibes of a coming into own story, a blindfold offering the sanctuary needed to explore ones self.
But i suspect they are not things you put in there so much and the main story between the lines here is so beautiful. The way you play with the blind fold as a metaphor is brilliant, you capture the taunting moment, the squeeze of cheeks proceeding a game of pleasure, the lack of description for the other party is a really nice way to work with her being blind folded, and giving that perspective. There is a touch of submission/dominance in the blindfold, and the leading, which is so masterfully overridden by the tender language, showing that it is instead an equal trust between the two. It just works so very well, and the ending, a coming into their own, a freeing moment, although this line
gives the impression she is seeing her lover for the first time, its an intriguing dynamic you paint between them, an implicate trust and depth of regard and affection. So very nicely done <3
Anyway, shall return for FTS cos this is an essay haha
~Uw-peckin’-wU~ Thanks for reading, philosophizing, comprehending and complimenting my post!~ Indeed, had to play up the cuteness factor for goaty, but it played well with the kitty one next where I applied my, supposedly, trademark style here. But yes, three perspectives: the bland reality, speaker and actions (crude fact, the displaced Subject and the rendered Object, respectively, coming together to form a scene). All fun to make respectively and with each other.
Now to the completely trans-lesbo scene; lesbiab, biab biab. Anywho, that blind drawing was perfect for something intimate, especially with the poking fingers to the cheeks. And I felt rather describing the two lovely people before they acted upon their intimacy, the frustrations, the pulls-n-tugs and the reveal that finally gives way to Cupid doing best what Cupid does (lovey-dovey shit :D : D :D :D). But tak, I did want to allow multiple perspectives to pour into the bland reality description I was laying down here, from those that are couples, to outsiders and those coming into a relationship. And yer analysis, mój Ukochany, be spot on but I like to add “reminded off” before “seeing her lover” - the act of Jouissance and signification all playing into the entirity of the 300-word-mono-paragraph. Even then, the analysis goes unhindered from here once again.