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Views & Reviews: A PoV

Well, I have decided to dedicate ‘A little of Everything’ only for stories, poems, fictional material, and other things. While all the hardcore (don’t get me wrong) articles would be reserved for Views & Reviews: A PoV.

Depends on the popularity. If I don’t get much visitors there, would come back and post here itself…

Do book mark it…and let me know….if you like it….

Not the stuff of dreams

I saw a post on Facebook today that bothered me and resisted the urge to leave a scathing comment. But, it has stayed with me, to the point of invading my meditation, a time when I usually have no trouble not engaging with my thoughts. I thought, "I must write about this." And so, I will. . .

One person is sent a photograph of a tattooed stump as a "gift." The recipient replies, "Wow! This is almost as good as midget porn!"

I don't know, maybe I've lost my sense of humor completely, but sending photos of people who have lost limbs to others as gifts seems sickening to me. I've tattooed these people, and their stumps (if they call them that) are part of their bodies. They're not fetish objects. But yes, they are also that, aren't they?

As far as midgets go, they have also been fetishized, and are frequently seen in movie and television dream sequences. I don't get that. I've never had a dream in which a little person comes out of nowhere wearing a top hat. I'm guessing that the only people who dream of unusually short people are those who are themselves unusually short, or those who see them as fetish objects. Either way, those dream sequences are always ridiculous, in my estimation, and I wonder if little people are offended. If you are very short and reading this, please tell me what you think. I'm most curious.

I'm very short, and I wouldn't mind if I was one person's personal fetish, but there's something sickening about fetishizing an entire group of people. I suppose I could draw this conclusion further and say that all women are objectified, and some people would agree, but I don't think that's all that bad. We all are attracted to certain characteristics, and many people like looking at that which we are attracted to. Yes, I'm skirting around the issue of pornography. It's a big subject.

I suppose I can let everyone off the hook about porn, general porn, but when it comes to drooling over that which causes others pain, and not in the sadomasochistic sense, it bothers me greatly. The broken limb, the stigma of being unusually short or tall, or deformed in some way; sexual objectification seems like adding insult to injury. But I may be wrong. For all I know, it's an added bonus, a compliment. I've never asked anyone who has a stump if they minded the jokes, and I've certainly never asked them if they minded the porn.

The first time I tattooed a person who was missing part of a limb, and tattooed what was left of it, I had to get over a certain revulsion. I admit this freely. I think it's fairly natural. But once I did, I felt a certain tenderness in me. There was something more intimate about being allowed to hold that half thigh in my hands, more intimate than an ordinary thigh. And while I felt no longing for it, I can imagine that there are people who feel that way. But I think I may be being overly generous; somehow I think the reasons for longing stem from darker emotions.

There's no conclusion here. Just an airing of my thoughts, and a desire to hear from anyone who has an opinion on these matters.

Now, to bed, where I will imagine I will not be dreaming of anything like that which I see in movies.

Photo note: From "Twin Peaks", conceived and directed by David Lynch - perhaps the "worst offender" of the dwarves-in-dream-sequence motif. For more images from this scene, go here.

Part-time Job for Guys! Interested?

 

People, what about a part-time job like the one displayed in the picture below? Not only it gives you self-gratification, pocket money, but it also helps millions of childless couples world over!!!

(Picture Source: Hindustan Times, Delhi Edition, Page 11. July 23, 2009)

Embrace Rubber Clothes

Embrace Rubber Clothes

Rubber Clothes Gallery

Rubber Clothes Gallery

We can make various colors and thickness for latex clothes, and we can ensure the material is 100% natural latex and has no any harmness for health.

After the quiet, I put on a screaming white floral. . .

It was a quiet, somewhat strange day. It's been raining for who knows how long, and though today's downpour did not happen, the sun never peeked through the clouds. The wind was kicking up all day, knocking potted plants over. It was at turns hot and humid and cool and humid. It was eerie - the kind of weather that portends dreadful weather to come. And so it shall come, as I hear it.

I was at a Zen retreat for a few days, where it was actually noisier than my own home. Dick is away, and is my want when he's not here, I keep things quiet and cleaner than normal. I also take up chanting sutras to punctuate the silence. Surprisingly, I chant from deep within my belly, a loud chant; startingly so. Probably surprising for those who know me, for I'm given to talking to quietly that no one can hear me. Said one friend, once; "Ah, well. I can't hear Julie half the time. I just nod and say hmmm."

Within this quiet space is a loudness, but it is not audible. It is called Tom Ford's Black Orchid Voile de Fleur. Basenotes says it contains "Black Truffle, Bergamot, Honeysuckle, Gardenia, Black Orchid, Black Pepper, Lotus Wood, Noir Gourmand Accord, Vanilla Tears, Patchouli, Balsam, Sandalwood." What are "Noir Gourmand Accord" and "Vanilla Tears"?

Never mind. The first blast of this parfume, which I found a 1 ounce bottle of at T.J. Maxx for fifteen bucks, is a big, loud 1980's type screaming white floral. I detest scents of this nature - they are the stuff of headaches and probably the reason why so many places have outlawed wearing scents in public.

But I like this juice. I spray on a very little bit, keeping the spray nozzle right up to my skin. I know that if I overdo it, I'll be sorry later. So, I'm very careful. Just so. At first I'm always surprised. I hate this smell, or so I think. No, I love it. What's going on here?

No headache ensues. I continue loving the scent, but I wouldn't dare leave the house with it on. It's sillage must be strong. It feels illicit. Sitting here in baggy jeans, tousled hair and a baggy sweater, it's a funny contrast to the way I smell. I should be wearing a black dress and stilettos.

The scent does not change much. It just weakens. It leaves a delicious trace of itself on my bedclothes. With all its notes, one would think it would change over time, but it is somewhat simple in its way. I smells like a Good Perfume. Nothing more and nothing less. What's surprising it that I seem to be in love with it, and I'm getting a kick out of that in itself, like falling in love with a person who's got a bad reputation.

And, it is such a contrast to anything that smacks of simple living. I feel like a naughty woman, basking in a cougar's scent whilst lounging about all alone. It feels like enjoying pornography. I was caught in the act earlier when someone knocked on the door. Looking as I do, (no - even worse, for I was wearing a pair of pants held together with a string), I wondered if they thought I was wearing too much perfume, and how strangely, with no makeup and in near to rags.

I see eccentricity in my future. Eh, I think it's already happened. What am I worried about?

Photo Note: Amy Winehouse, with a beehive hairdo and jeans. Seems fitting to this post. I love her singing, her style; I hope she survives her travails.