Eyes... they can tell us many a things... they can be the windows to our souls, the truth when our words fail, the tellers of our feelings when we no naught what they are. They will deceive, they will fool, they will lure, they will be witch, they will destroy.
Our eyes are the envy of all. With all that is covered, all that is hidden, protected... Gorean Free Woman are far more naked than they ever will realize... with the framing of our eyes, we are an open book. Even with the icy stares, the murderous gazes, the tempting fires that smolder with in. From the depths of color, to the pale mystery of some, they are the one thing that give away a woman.
Her heart, her soul, her captivating mystery that seems to draw a man. Even if they lust for slaves, something about a Gorean free woman gives a man the willies. Is it fear, is it desire, is it irritation that we spark. With a soft rise of long lashes, our movements concealed behind layers of robes and veils, our eyes speak louder than our bodies or our tongues.
Coy deception, manipulation... never. If we are wise we come to the line and just drag a toe along the edge and turn and walk away leaving you breathless. In our wake you hunger for that drink of water we have become. You yearn to find out what lies behind the masks we wear. What was it you saw in our eyes, was it something that caught your attention... for we know you did not get a glimpse of wrist or ankle, and even such a glimpse on a free woman could send a man's blood boiling. Seeing how that delicate wrist moves when she writes, or lifts a cup. Perhaps the turn of a foot, seeing how the body drifts to a melody you cannot hear.
Is your heart pounding, can you see something inside those eyes that haunt you now. You do not even know her name, you saw her in the market, just a glimpse of eyes that screamed and you heard. She is a true Gorean woman and that alone makes one fear.
Do not think us powerless, do not think us helpless. We are armed, we are dangerous, and together we will stand strong.
Friends reunited after too many years. A mother and daughter like relationship. One that has been tested by the sands of time, has fought the wars of fate to find one another again. The northern star, the beacon to serenity. Everyone needs someone, sometimes. We all need someone that just understands. Can look and know. Can comfort without a word, just knowing when to listen and when to hold.
True friendship is rare, perhaps why I have so few friends. And many do not even live on the isle. I live here, I know the people, I interact with the people, but I do not truly have any I call friend. Odd perhaps?? Perhaps not, trust is far stronger than love and far easier to break. It takes years to trust someone and in a blink, it is shattered like broken glass. Love is strong, but trust is ultimate. You lose trust, you can and will lose love, no matter how it lingers, without trust the doubt lingers and that is the only drop of poison one needs for it all to fall apart.
I cannot explain it, those that think they know me I have to laugh. They do not really know me. I am a Landau, and if I choose to let the world see one side of me, does not mean its the side of me that is honest. We all have our parts to play, I choose to play many. I can be happy to the world and torn inside. I can be laughing, and my heart is bleeding, soaring, but inside I am drowning. There is no way to tell me, unless you know how to solve the riddle that are my eyes, that give the keys to my heart, to my soul. So I ask of thee, puppet Master, have ye found the answer to the riddle that haunts you?
Do you know what lingers in the eyes that are exposed, open, raw, real, vibrant, alive, molten, a true shade of golden jade? Some do... so many more never figure it out. When you can stop a man in his tracks with but a look, then you my fellow gorean women, have found thine self, and know how to make a man stop, look, then hunger and crave. It need not be an act so open as any kajira, it can be a casual glance, nothing less... and yet opens the window to so much more.
We find our selves seeking that second half... a slave her Master a companion the one that will stand at her side. We live under the rule of men, some are stronger at their feet and others soar at their sides. We bare heirs, we are used for weapons. We hold a silent power, a strength that they have not taken... why? Why would they take that which makes us Gorean. That vital vibrancy that makes the earth women weak in comparison. We are a million times more than any earth girl ever would be. While, sure, they make great slaves and chattel for the uses of men, they cannot and never will rise to the standards Gorean woman hold them selves to.
Oh Yes, we are so very harsh against our own sex. We do what some never would think us capable. Weak... no. Even if we are only strong on the surface, we are far more than we let on. We hold the Ace, it takes someone seeking to find it, but we must allow the seeker a glimpse if we wish him to continue his search.
A toast to friendships that will always be there when you need them the most, the hand that is always out stretch, to help when you are down. To cheer you on when you are up, but in the end, always there. Leaving an imprint upon your life. We are shaped by those around us. And if you have five true friends, you are more wealthy than those that have 100's around them. For if times grow bleak who will be standing there through the storm, weathering all that is to come, all that will come, through the light and the dark, the laugh and the tears, the anger and the joy?
Here's to friends... you make my life shine more than you ever will know.
Our eyes are the envy of all. With all that is covered, all that is hidden, protected... Gorean Free Woman are far more naked than they ever will realize... with the framing of our eyes, we are an open book. Even with the icy stares, the murderous gazes, the tempting fires that smolder with in. From the depths of color, to the pale mystery of some, they are the one thing that give away a woman.
Her heart, her soul, her captivating mystery that seems to draw a man. Even if they lust for slaves, something about a Gorean free woman gives a man the willies. Is it fear, is it desire, is it irritation that we spark. With a soft rise of long lashes, our movements concealed behind layers of robes and veils, our eyes speak louder than our bodies or our tongues.
Coy deception, manipulation... never. If we are wise we come to the line and just drag a toe along the edge and turn and walk away leaving you breathless. In our wake you hunger for that drink of water we have become. You yearn to find out what lies behind the masks we wear. What was it you saw in our eyes, was it something that caught your attention... for we know you did not get a glimpse of wrist or ankle, and even such a glimpse on a free woman could send a man's blood boiling. Seeing how that delicate wrist moves when she writes, or lifts a cup. Perhaps the turn of a foot, seeing how the body drifts to a melody you cannot hear.
Is your heart pounding, can you see something inside those eyes that haunt you now. You do not even know her name, you saw her in the market, just a glimpse of eyes that screamed and you heard. She is a true Gorean woman and that alone makes one fear.
Do not think us powerless, do not think us helpless. We are armed, we are dangerous, and together we will stand strong.
Friends reunited after too many years. A mother and daughter like relationship. One that has been tested by the sands of time, has fought the wars of fate to find one another again. The northern star, the beacon to serenity. Everyone needs someone, sometimes. We all need someone that just understands. Can look and know. Can comfort without a word, just knowing when to listen and when to hold.
True friendship is rare, perhaps why I have so few friends. And many do not even live on the isle. I live here, I know the people, I interact with the people, but I do not truly have any I call friend. Odd perhaps?? Perhaps not, trust is far stronger than love and far easier to break. It takes years to trust someone and in a blink, it is shattered like broken glass. Love is strong, but trust is ultimate. You lose trust, you can and will lose love, no matter how it lingers, without trust the doubt lingers and that is the only drop of poison one needs for it all to fall apart.
I cannot explain it, those that think they know me I have to laugh. They do not really know me. I am a Landau, and if I choose to let the world see one side of me, does not mean its the side of me that is honest. We all have our parts to play, I choose to play many. I can be happy to the world and torn inside. I can be laughing, and my heart is bleeding, soaring, but inside I am drowning. There is no way to tell me, unless you know how to solve the riddle that are my eyes, that give the keys to my heart, to my soul. So I ask of thee, puppet Master, have ye found the answer to the riddle that haunts you?
Do you know what lingers in the eyes that are exposed, open, raw, real, vibrant, alive, molten, a true shade of golden jade? Some do... so many more never figure it out. When you can stop a man in his tracks with but a look, then you my fellow gorean women, have found thine self, and know how to make a man stop, look, then hunger and crave. It need not be an act so open as any kajira, it can be a casual glance, nothing less... and yet opens the window to so much more.
We find our selves seeking that second half... a slave her Master a companion the one that will stand at her side. We live under the rule of men, some are stronger at their feet and others soar at their sides. We bare heirs, we are used for weapons. We hold a silent power, a strength that they have not taken... why? Why would they take that which makes us Gorean. That vital vibrancy that makes the earth women weak in comparison. We are a million times more than any earth girl ever would be. While, sure, they make great slaves and chattel for the uses of men, they cannot and never will rise to the standards Gorean woman hold them selves to.
Oh Yes, we are so very harsh against our own sex. We do what some never would think us capable. Weak... no. Even if we are only strong on the surface, we are far more than we let on. We hold the Ace, it takes someone seeking to find it, but we must allow the seeker a glimpse if we wish him to continue his search.
A toast to friendships that will always be there when you need them the most, the hand that is always out stretch, to help when you are down. To cheer you on when you are up, but in the end, always there. Leaving an imprint upon your life. We are shaped by those around us. And if you have five true friends, you are more wealthy than those that have 100's around them. For if times grow bleak who will be standing there through the storm, weathering all that is to come, all that will come, through the light and the dark, the laugh and the tears, the anger and the joy?
Here's to friends... you make my life shine more than you ever will know.
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