Pandora's Box
Hidden in a Pandora box, a perfect square, black outside but a pink inside.
A little princess gazing upward, staring at a bright light shining, laying down on a green field, patches of pink lilies and roses leaving a soothing aroma.
A box inside with sides of friends, family, and society life experiences and paradoxes.
Reflecting on the outside a mold. Made to fit everyone expectations and desires, conforming to society over time. Always a box, with a light shining through the exterior from above.
A box now shattered partially, only revealing a young lady, speaking mannered thoughts and writing in distinctly soft words. An inner beauty, exquisite, a lady wanting to express herself.
A box not revealed to keep friends, family, and society unconcerned, a mask carefully planted. Strong, determined, masculine, willing, living the very ideals society believes. I'm physically caged, in a box, a choice not made.
Hiding someone beautiful, warm, elegant, delicate, and dainty seen through enchanting crystal eyes and eloquent words.
The very core of my strength, the essence, depended on daily, but fully hidden, screaming to be heard and seen. A enchanting princess adorned in white holding hands to the air, looking upon the light, looking upon a pink butterfly hovering in the air looking upon oneself. An ice princess.
Vivianne
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
(random thought)
Random thought
Society trains you that being physically male means you have to think, act, and react male. A superficial lie, etched in stone.
Even being your thinking about silk soft stocking gently touching the skin or glistening transparent romantic dress, is treated with equal disdain. If talked about laughed at, treated as a sinful thought. Such prejudice this society lies behind; hiding hate and the thought to conform.
At a young age, I was going through changes, looking at myself in the mirror daily; hoping for something to happen. The physical changes reinforcing what society believes; the belief physically male must mean masculine. I would like to have soft silky hands, long slender legs, long smooth beautiful hair, and much more; saying to myself daily. Each day going by hating it. Learning to reinforce the lies society has; giving small clues though out.
It took a few words at a young age; to create a mask my whole life time. I live a life of confusion; all my interaction is feminine; leaving strangers, friends, girlfriends, and family often confused.
The thoughts “That outfit looks cute on her. What do the outfit look like on me? What color nail polish or hairstyle matches it? What shoes? What hosiery? Where can I get it? Oh by the way, the weather is nice”, is unspoken.
Vivianne
Society trains you that being physically male means you have to think, act, and react male. A superficial lie, etched in stone.
Even being your thinking about silk soft stocking gently touching the skin or glistening transparent romantic dress, is treated with equal disdain. If talked about laughed at, treated as a sinful thought. Such prejudice this society lies behind; hiding hate and the thought to conform.
At a young age, I was going through changes, looking at myself in the mirror daily; hoping for something to happen. The physical changes reinforcing what society believes; the belief physically male must mean masculine. I would like to have soft silky hands, long slender legs, long smooth beautiful hair, and much more; saying to myself daily. Each day going by hating it. Learning to reinforce the lies society has; giving small clues though out.
It took a few words at a young age; to create a mask my whole life time. I live a life of confusion; all my interaction is feminine; leaving strangers, friends, girlfriends, and family often confused.
The thoughts “That outfit looks cute on her. What do the outfit look like on me? What color nail polish or hairstyle matches it? What shoes? What hosiery? Where can I get it? Oh by the way, the weather is nice”, is unspoken.
Vivianne
Monday, March 2, 2009
Distraction
Distraction
Is the distraction an act or figment of imagination?
Something believed to be amusement or light contradiction, even through the feelings are as tender as an ice princess, deeply attached. A crystalline princess looking up; the fact is a carefully created rose is always there.
Can all these years be summed up to the simple word, distraction? The very last thing wanted; nor one step taken day by day, no matter how significant. Does friendship base itself on the word, distraction? Do a friend base their thoughts on a person based on what other people might perceive?
A delicate pink rose still exist; bleeding from the sharp thorns crafted in single, deadly words. Stranger words might hurt; but friend words cut. A deadly rippling effect tearing apart a mosaic. I’m exhausted from a long year of extended work hours and sharp words carefully tearing distancing ones heart.
A black porcelain doll still lives; unmasked, showing it day to day. You just have to see it, a pink rose.
Vivianne
Is the distraction an act or figment of imagination?
Something believed to be amusement or light contradiction, even through the feelings are as tender as an ice princess, deeply attached. A crystalline princess looking up; the fact is a carefully created rose is always there.
Can all these years be summed up to the simple word, distraction? The very last thing wanted; nor one step taken day by day, no matter how significant. Does friendship base itself on the word, distraction? Do a friend base their thoughts on a person based on what other people might perceive?
A delicate pink rose still exist; bleeding from the sharp thorns crafted in single, deadly words. Stranger words might hurt; but friend words cut. A deadly rippling effect tearing apart a mosaic. I’m exhausted from a long year of extended work hours and sharp words carefully tearing distancing ones heart.
A black porcelain doll still lives; unmasked, showing it day to day. You just have to see it, a pink rose.
Vivianne
Thursday, September 18, 2008
A Sparkling Glass
A Sparkling Glass
I always observe people and situations as an outsider, detached physically, mentally and emotionally. Now I am contemplating in explosions of heavy sounding beats and tranquil moments of solitude. I’m always misunderstood often inwardly guessing the cause, affecting my decisions, questioning my very intentions.
I am internally looking at a bigger magnificent mosaic, the mosaic of reminiscent dreams. This is a princess trapped in a sparkling glass, both full of life and lifeless in a given moment. Making a great picture made of many small delicate pieces. My world surrounding me devouring my spirit leaving a void, burdened. I am now stranded watching people walking pass thinking ones thoughts; waiting to be looked upon. I am a soft tender beauty with piercing words; flourishing by a single whisper.
Vivianne Summers
I always observe people and situations as an outsider, detached physically, mentally and emotionally. Now I am contemplating in explosions of heavy sounding beats and tranquil moments of solitude. I’m always misunderstood often inwardly guessing the cause, affecting my decisions, questioning my very intentions.
I am internally looking at a bigger magnificent mosaic, the mosaic of reminiscent dreams. This is a princess trapped in a sparkling glass, both full of life and lifeless in a given moment. Making a great picture made of many small delicate pieces. My world surrounding me devouring my spirit leaving a void, burdened. I am now stranded watching people walking pass thinking ones thoughts; waiting to be looked upon. I am a soft tender beauty with piercing words; flourishing by a single whisper.
Vivianne Summers
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
reality
REALITY
Life is unchanging, chaotic, which is never ending.
I watch proper steadily doing the daily routine, cleaning and chatting.
People worried about the rippled effects of the stock market plummeting.
The jobless rates ever increasing, as people are looking for jobs in the dieing market.
I worry about the color of lipstick, thinking about a soft pink hue.
A tender and gentle color.
Vivianne
http://viviannesummers.blogspot.com
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Raw part 1
Raw part 1
I sit here contemplating deeply what changed doing the warm summer. My hair changed to reveal a tender face if looked upon, my personality riveting slowly, like a eternal diamond becoming more beautiful as time passes, friendships being tested by chaotic times of situations seeming rare, but true, pure, and honest. A summer of new friendships made pushing emotional and mental limits, like a sweet innocent rose being pulled from inside out.
Vivianne
http://viviannesummers.blogspot.com
PS. I will edit again.
I sit here contemplating deeply what changed doing the warm summer. My hair changed to reveal a tender face if looked upon, my personality riveting slowly, like a eternal diamond becoming more beautiful as time passes, friendships being tested by chaotic times of situations seeming rare, but true, pure, and honest. A summer of new friendships made pushing emotional and mental limits, like a sweet innocent rose being pulled from inside out.
Vivianne
http://viviannesummers.blo
PS. I will edit again.
Monday, June 23, 2008
She does exist
She does exist
I lay down in my soft bed on a raining night, contemplating. I live a life of secrets, hiding myself from the world, but only seen by the naked eye, if watched carefully. I close my eyes gently, looking at a woman, passionately glaring back at me wanting to exist, desperately seeking attention. I am wondering about my beliefs and thoughts, which always in question, the thoughts to trust myself is always in doubt. Restlessly, trying to sleep, knowing this existence is a masquerade, a mask that haunts me.
Vivianne is a person, she does exist.
Vivianne Summers
Friday, April 25, 2008
A typical guy
A typical guy
Strong, determined, loyal, and relentless a black stallion. Raw in momentum, unstopping towards one goal. A solid foundation nearly unbreakable, not crying emotionless without a tear. Dead to the world.
This I must be, what I am but with a cold heart, unfeminine, hiding under a deep mask a secret. A rose becoming a secret revealing itself sporadically, but living a lie, a chaotic hated reality, a bastard.
Strong, determined, loyal, and relentless a black stallion. Raw in momentum, unstopping towards one goal. A solid foundation nearly unbreakable, not crying emotionless without a tear. Dead to the world.
This I must be, what I am but with a cold heart, unfeminine, hiding under a deep mask a secret. A rose becoming a secret revealing itself sporadically, but living a lie, a chaotic hated reality, a bastard.
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