An Essay A Day For A Year
By Roe
Day 72, March 12, 2012
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Once upon a time there was a fragile and frail little girl child, but only once upon a time. I didn’t say twice upon a time, and I doubt Nature will ever let any girl child be fragile and frail in any given universe more than once in any given time. Fragile but not frail could have happened max two times since the Triassic period, and frail but not fragile is a common girly power. The AND of any woman frail and fragile is, “AND” you better pay close attention to the pretty little powerhouse.
The world has been evolving downside up, and the real power in life has been lurking around in the shadows with dynamite, dressed like a pretty little orchid. The cliché’ goes that little girls are soft and sweet and sensitive, and little boys are tough and mean and insensitive. Hee, Hee, Hee says the TNT there in the shadows, dressed up in Easter flowers. In truth every parent knows that little boys are incredibly sensitive and dependent on Mommy and Daddy, while little girls are tough as nails, and fully prepared to go it alone with a guillotine in one hand and her Barbie in the other. If it wouldn’t be for mass and muscles, we men would be in real trouble, for we need her far too much, and she knows it far too much.
Every girl child in the world is Queen, and she is just waiting to take her throne. Every girl child knows that she is not inferior to any other woman no matter how low she is, or how high the girl she compares herself with. Every girl child is the progenitor of “the son”, and “the daughter”, and she is simply waiting for her time to be “the only one”. Every girl child knows in her heart that she was made as the image of all life, and that man was made for her uses to fertilize her eggs so that she may reign as Queen. Every girl child knows in Her heart that God could not be male, for God was born out of her womb, and God needs Her far too much. He can be frozen in a bucket and stored with all his billions of spermy friends, while she roams the Earth as Creatrice with the first and foremost ribs in the universe.
When our not so sweet or sensitive little business woman called Womb grows up to be fertilized and propagate, she does and will wield all her power from within and without her beautiful form that we He’s cannot live without. We are at her mercy, and we have always been at her mercy, and we will always be at her mercy. Even if we power over her and use her and rape her and control her, she as Mother holds the trump card to our heart and the very lives of our children. Little girls are matter of fact, and methodical, and driven by justice and fairness. When her safety and survival take precedence over her responsibility as Queen birther, she will sacrifice her loyalty and alliances and even children in order to survive, and we grovel as inferiors to her when we covet her heart.
When I was a young boy I used to watch my Mother place her hands on her hips cocked sideways, with her eye brow lowered on one side, and with both eyes squinting, I feared for my life. She was a typical 60’s German immigrant, caboose-like mother to my locomotive supreme master-father, and the real power was when I saw the same fear of God in my father’s face when he offended her. She controlled his heart, and she controlled his penis, and in us tough guys, not much distance separates the two. When I was a young boy I fearfully witnessed my younger sister with the same stance and facial consternation directed at me, and I can’t ever remember being more regretful or shamed at having made a mistake as when my sister lowered her gavel upon me. Besides my whole young life virtually unraveling at her concise revenges, in my heart I knew that she was right, and I deserved it, and not even Hell was punishment enough for me.
When I grew up to be a downside up leader of women, I soon realized that She had what I wanted, Her, and I needed to do what she wanted to get what I wanted, Anything. Arrogantly, she made it clear that I may not have what she wanted, but in the meantime I might just be worth her entertainment. I was gratified to be granted the right to be her circus poodle for anything that was her delight, including pretending that I was tough and she was soft, and that I commanded the world. When I finally fell in love with the right girl, it was the girl that was in love with me too, and who wielded her gavel and heart and golden tunnel with care and compassion. Even now if I feel that I may win or prevail, in the end if she takes herself and my children away from me, I will be reduced to being master of being without Her, and in a boy’s eyes that is even worse than death.
Once upon a time there was a beautiful little girl and formidable lover of men who made all life possible, our life and the life of our beloved children with her that we share. She honored us as we honored her, and that is a good thing since a man without Her honor is a man with only part of an honor worth living for. We cherished and valued Her and she reciprocated compassionately since a man with no Her to cherish and value is a man with little to cherish and value. Once upon a time we as men used our formidable muscles and strength and anger to keep our one and only Queen and mother of our children safe and loved, and we laid with her often and produced the most formidable and revered children, borne of our love. The rest we left to her. She operated our world and life and home and sex and children and commerce fairly and justly, and all lived happily ever after. This is the truth of our future world the right side up.
In our downside up world of supposed sensitive and weak women being ruled by supposed insensitive and strong men, we have all hell breaking loose all around us all the time, and in truth all we men miss Her, and need Her, and wish that she would come into or back into our lives, while she not so patiently waits for us. “Peace” little girl I say, I accede to your Natural superiority as my Queen. As your man I will honor and value and cherish you and only you and no other, and forever. I say this not only because I need you and fear you, but because you ARE what rocks my world. You are my world. And if I mislead you or fail you I will run for my life when I see you place your hands on your hips and lower your brow and squint at me like you used to do as a little girl. Because I know that when you disapprove of me and retaliate against me I have earned it , and I deserve it. Such is life before a little frail and fragile girl child called She.
See you tomorrow.
yourpersonalmuse@gmx.com
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