Some days are "long blond hair, pink satin and lace, a
faint cloud of sweet perfume, makeup, jewelry, nails, and shoes" – on the
inside – even though all the world can see is a scrawny looking homely guy in
baggy clothes and sad eyes.
I don't know how to fully capture the sensation in words to make it real enough that the words might evoke in you the feelings I experience. It is very much like wearing a costume, it's as if I can imagine the feminine features create bulges that are out of place beneath the costume and show through; long hair almost falling from it's hiding, beautiful makeup beneath a face mask.
It's also like a butterfly forming inside a cocoon, with its beautiful form folded and squished inside a formless thing which gives no hint of the graceful beauty longing to burst forth into the light of day and take flight, leaving that sad tattered formless shell behind.
I am walking the mall today, mostly for exercise, partly for gawking at pretty things. My posture and walk start reflexively gliding in a more graceful stride so that I have to catch myself from being too obvious. I smile at the real me who should be enjoying this time, and try to resist the depressing reality.
Sadness and grief punctuated with brief sparkles of bliss.
I don't know how to fully capture the sensation in words to make it real enough that the words might evoke in you the feelings I experience. It is very much like wearing a costume, it's as if I can imagine the feminine features create bulges that are out of place beneath the costume and show through; long hair almost falling from it's hiding, beautiful makeup beneath a face mask.
It's also like a butterfly forming inside a cocoon, with its beautiful form folded and squished inside a formless thing which gives no hint of the graceful beauty longing to burst forth into the light of day and take flight, leaving that sad tattered formless shell behind.
I am walking the mall today, mostly for exercise, partly for gawking at pretty things. My posture and walk start reflexively gliding in a more graceful stride so that I have to catch myself from being too obvious. I smile at the real me who should be enjoying this time, and try to resist the depressing reality.
Sadness and grief punctuated with brief sparkles of bliss.
