Shame dating and the invisibility cape

Nothing hurts more than shame dating. It's like someone's rejecting you but still having the audacity to grin in your face. Actually claiming all the emotional,social,even financial support they can from you; whilst you wither away like a dying plant in the corner of their life. It hurts when your partner wont hold your hand in public, kiss you in public, introduce you to their friends, keep their real life restricted. The worst thing about these shame daters, is the questions you ask yourself over again in private, am i not attractive enough, intelligent enough, if im strong enough not to care why the hell should they? Shame daters are people you usually out class 100 to none, with maturity, independance, courage, yet shame daters are always overly conscious people.

Their obsessively worried about how you look on their arm. Conflicted with questions of whose dating who in their social circle, and how they can outclass that persons trophy lifestyle. In the shame daters book of rules, you are not enough because deep down they are not enough. Whilst you sit, slink, or melt into your skin with humiliation, or watch their eyes absorb a passing visual of 'perfection'.

A barbie doll with no brain, or an adonis with no actual charisma. Just remember that you deserve better. Also remember that you can get better. When you show this person you outclass their vanity, you will be free, much happier, and scarily enough, so much more endearing. They will realise what they missed out on as is always the case, it will be too late. You are priceless. This has been pulled on me many a time. Guys who were threatened that i wasn't a version of pretty that could earn them a pat on the back, or the type of girl their friends would worship. I am my type of girl.Non conformist, complex, flamboyant, vulnerable, unique,real. People with such a shallow mindset always miss out on something special. Unless that person is a serial killer or has another terrifying background you should never let society dictate who you should love,like, or enjoy communicating with. Life is too short, you only live once.

Black and Yellow (short story)

Black and Yellow (Short story)

"There's nothing wrong with me," i wanted to tell him. Scream and rip it out from the pit of my lungs. Where it's moist, but the airs still chaotic with stale ciggarette smoke, and rough with the need to clear a throat. Cough up a furball. "Fuck your mum, your friends, the people who stare and analyse as we creep along the street, like were shadows in time and space." His brown eyes continued to glare through me as though i were a looking glass. "Seriously," he rubbed his eyes pink, "What are you harping on about now,let's just get in the fucking car." I zeroed in on the busy street, too many faces and too many places. People were seeing us together, i was his big black shame. "Well? Were in the middle of the main road, people need to get by, busses-"
"Tell me you get it." Tell me you get me, i thought. I'm not your prettiest, and i heard the sigh of disappointment as i approached your friends. I remember that day. His almond eyes had shone with the beauty of me.

Then i watched in horror as pieces of his face sank bit by bit, reflecting the disappointment of his friends. The air swamped in a conscious silence was tainted with giggles. High pitched and deep throat growls. "So this is the princess you've been telling us about.." a fairskinned guy to the left spoke up first. He had eyes like two green orbs and a face like a magazine cover. I looked from picture to picture, shuffling my feet nervously, each person looking more like a magazine shoot than the next. They were so camouflaged in beauty, i imagined nobody cared wether they knew Aristotle, or had an understanding of Marx.An Asian girl called Nina commented on how beautiful my dark skin was, My boyfriend responded by saying nothing.

We stood at the edge of the bustling sidewalk, the door of his shiny blue toyota left hanging open, the Fresco shopping bags, being pierced by the gravel. "Is it me or is it you?" I spoke softly, like words tiptoeing out of my mouth. "I just need to know that you haven't been brainwashed by the world to love what suits everybody else-"
"Stop being ridiculous!" he spat.
"When was the last time you held my hand in public? Took me out to dinner? Worshipped me in front of another human being,"
"Isn't that blasphemy, you self righteous religious nut," he teased. Yet there was no humour behind his eyes. "Tell me i'm more important than mums who think im too dark, friends who think you can do better, ex girlfriends parading themselves like marketing campaigns."
"This is your shit." Adrien breathed a heady sigh, like those men in those westerns, sitting at a bar, craving alcohol. "If you hate yourself that's not my problem." I shook my head slowly holding his gaze with a silver knowing one of my own. I needed the truth even if it hurt.
"Your not pretty in the way my exes are, and yeah i guess my friends and my mum do think i can do better," he picked up the shopping bags and tossed them into the cars back seat. "Is that what you wanna hear? You never really care what i think. Your too busy feeling sorry for yourself about ancient shit-"
"I had a tough childhood!" I spluttered defensively.
"Everybody had a tough childhood. Were Children and we hate it, then were adults and we hate it," Adrien pulled a cream toothpick out of a black compartment in his car. "Yeah my mum doesn't like that your hairs still natural, and other really stupid crap," he paused, "but my mums on the verge of a divorce,she doesn't like anyone right now." He began tapping his pockets anxiously looking for the ciggarette i knew he'd smoked nervously two hours ago. We'd been talking about kids. "My father cheated on her ten times with a dark skinned woman,who had a huge natural Afro, and some red beads she wore everyday." He finally gave up on the quest for the ciggarette, fixing two midas eyes on me once more. "As for my friends," he smiled lazily, a slow motion flash of polaroid teeth. " Can you say associates? Connections. Each one of us got snobbed before we entered that circle.Were frenemies." He shoved the tooth pick he'd found in the glove compartment into his mouth, crunching it's end tastelessly. A habbit i'd learned to loathe. "I once dated a dark skinned girl that told me everything i'd achieved was simply because of my fair skinned complexion. She made my life hell. Hating herself and me in the process" He nodded and smiled to an old lady shuffling along. She was white with hair like candyfloss and chequered skirt, with black cardigan. She looked happier than i was. "That chick still gives me nightmares. Are you her?"
"Your exaggerating,"
"Maybe you are her. You just haven't reached that level of insanity yet,"
"Oh forgive me for expressing my feelings!" I shrieked, the perfect dramatisation of a toddlers tantrum. He leaned over the open left window snatching up the two remaining bags at my feet.

"Your insecure arse can walk home. Oh yeah, and i don't go to restaurants with you because your Paranoid as fUUUUUUUUUUCK! It's like walking with an army sargeant in the middle of a crossfire," he tilted his head to the left, exposing two perfect dimples. "I bet you can't believe your luck pulling a guy like me," he wanted to laugh, but there was a sadness that sat like salt residue in his golden eyes. "Pathetic. In your case it is about skin tone. You think i'm too good for you, how fucked up is that?" I raised my hands in defense like someone being held at gunpoint.

" You can keep your baggage, i'm taking mine home to cook, and having a damn good meal.When your done hating yourself...give me a call." I watched as the engine roared to life and the sapphire toyota sped into the distance. Even with my favourite tan trousers, and pink top, face painted elegantly with ebony rouge,i still hadn't felt comfortable in my own skin. Worse it had translated. My phone beeped and vibrated in my pocket. I yanked it out of my pocket. It was Adrien. I scanned it and smiled. "Your beautiful, and sexy, and i'm waiting on Redar street five minutes away." I pressed the redial button, his voice smiled into the phone. "You see i'm even willing to fight you for you, now that's some creative shit."

Nasty people: How some get their kicks

I realise what nasty people get a kick out of most of all is making you wonder, and watching you crumble. It hit me two days ago when i was in the throes of a panic attack, and convinced i was getting ready to have a seizure, even if i was dying my next door neighbour, an older woman wouldn't help me, and she'd advise her family of cowards to not help me.

Till this day i have no idea what i did to that woman, i've always been polite, always been friendly, my only downfall is sometimes when i listen to my music i'm in my own world, and oh yeah years later i finally admit i'm an attractive woman. When i was younger despite being told i looked like a supermodel by make up artists, and being called beautiful often. I never felt it. I was a tomboy at heart, with beautiful dark chocolate skin, yet i knew that guys at the time were always into girls that curled their hips in a certain way, or spoke in soft tones. I walk with tomboyish gusto, there's an almost masculinity about my energy despite being a 'pretty girl.'

I first met my neighbour when i'd just moved to my area. I was depressed from such a dramatic change of scene, and scared i'd never get my confidence back. From being in an all girls school where everyone knew me. I found myself in a college where no one knew me, and in a class i felt completely alien to. The woman in question worked with my mother, she was my mothers boss, although my mums is the kind of person that takes orders from no one. I wasn't at college on that day, i was in my mothers centre, i just wanted to talk to my mum. Instead i found myself literally sobbing. The tears came out of nowhere like they were Ninja and been hiding away. The woman approached me, she seemed like such a lovely woman at the time.She took me away from display, directed me to her office, and i sobbed my heart out.She offered me tissues, told me about her family, and i confessed my vulnerabilities in true Naieve teenager form. Explaining to her that i was finding things tough emotionally and i couldn't tell my mum about it as she doesn't take well to tears. I never told her anything dramatic, no serial killer master plan, no drug lord campaign, or bomb plot, just that emotionally i didn't understand where these feelings of depression came from. Because she chattered away about her family,and her life, i didn't feel threatened. She seemed trust worthy.

That was the last time she was ever polite to me.

Without having the guts to tell me what i'd done to offend her, if i'd done anything to offend her. That was the first and the last day she ever showed warmth. It was false all along. For the years that followed, she'd cross the street when she saw me coming, rudely ignore me when i said good morning to her, go as far as turning away when she saw me approaching my house and acting like an out and out snob. I continued to be respectful to her family, be polite to her older son who is the nicer one, but she treats like the slower one. Amusing as it was he had a bit of a thing for me. He always followed me around if he saw me coming and she wasn't there. Unlike most people who would appreciate me being polite to their family, she was completely irrational, and seemed to loathe me showing any warmth, or respect to her relatives. Like a jealous posessive person. Soon enough she'd ensured the rest of her family were behaving in the same manner as her.Her older son who used to speak with kindness to my whole family, took up that cowardly stance.

When i looked at him i saw such shame and such regret for acting in such a pathetic manner. I know that it was nothing i did, or my family did, it's just her own misery and discontent. Recently her son took to appearing wherever i am, or happening to pass by at the same convenient time. Initially when she started her nonsense he used to park in his driveway, see us approaching and immaturely walk back into his house like she advised all of them to do. After ignoring my family for almost half a year he finally grew some balls and began attempting to communicate with us. My sister had always teased me about this 'supposed thing' he clearly had for me, which right now i realise is far from enough. His attempt to recommunicate with me started with his conversation to my sister. He randomly approached her a few weeks ago in the shop and told her 'he'd just made manager, and now had a baby', she'd told me he'd been really polite and i thought hell no. Were not that easy. You don't ignore someone you used to joke with, vibe with, for... actually it was a full year, and expect that you can just click your fingers and it's all good. I saw him days later and my whole energy was 'don't you dare even dream of suddenly being polite after acting like such a coward." Next he'd now taken to saying good morning to my brother, and i thought great 'i see you can be a man and polite when she's not around.' It made me twice as furious. He bought a new car and i noticed that when his mum was in he'd park it in his driveway, yet when she was out he'd park it right in front of my house, as if to say 'you can't ignore me now bitch.' This procedure continued for weeks, and i'd noticed that everytime i disappeared to the local retail shop his car that was peacefully sitting in his driveway as i headed out would suddenly disappear, and then appear a few minutes later after i'd returned home. He also started doing the things my ex boyfriend round the corner used to do. My ex boyfriend along with parking directly in front or opposite my house when we'd fallen out, would go to his garden and talk really loudly on his phone.

Five minutes later, give it a day or two my ex would be nervously chattering away down the phone. I don't know wether it's a guy thing or what, but he'd do that and i'd suddenly see him and his car driving past me ever so slowly. I'd just continue to ignore him. After almost two months of this, i was finally wearing down. Thinking maybe i can trust him again. Two weeks ago he'd looked so nervous as though he wanted to approach me. Some guys find me very intimidating, especially shy types. Sadly i have this habbit of seeing members of their family and being disgusted. If i'm smiling my face literally just drops, or if i see his mother i try and smile harder. She hates sensing that i'm happy. Anyway i was almost stupid enough to believe he was genuinely remorseful, and then i had the panic attack and thought i'd have a seizure. He saw me outside, he must have done, gasping for air, terrified, yet he never came out. One of the other neighbours came out to help me, but he never did. When i headed out to the shops the next day, his car never moved an inch. It hit me. How could i ever expect him to have been more than a coward. The men in my family are very domineering, have their own opinions and make their own mind up about people. You can tell them what you want, my older brother will tell you to shut up, and my younger brother will try and empathise with the person and their actions. My dad will just tell you he doesn't wanna hear it. These are the reasons they are so successful in their lives, that real emotional, mental independance. I realise now that his mother is a bitter woman that enjoys emotionally and socially alienating people, it makes her feel superior, and gives her the validation that she doesn't feel she had. This is the same woman that tried to kick out another family on the street, once again with disabilities. My family are a successful bunch, we strive and we strive hard. I've attempted business and succeeded in my own way, had a background in journalism and i'm pushing to be a writer. My brothers an animator, my sister in marketing also working on her project, my older brother created a fad that has taken America by storm, and my younger brother is an animator in one of the top animation schools in Britain.My father is in politics, and used to run his own businesses, my mother owned a number of businesses. This woman has not achieved such fate. Neither have the members of her family. I don't say it to be smug, but never have i seen such a piece of work. She has no dignity, no honour, and no class. It sickens me that people like this are allowed to gloat at other peoples misery, and delude themselves their superior to all the rest of us trying to get by in life.

R.I.P Amy Winehouse, your music will live on forever

Amy Winehouse died yesterday, and the ache of it resonates in all of us. The media love chiming on about her huuuuge drug problem, and her abominable relationship. Yet i think Amy Winehouse really died of a broken heart.




I think she found escapism in 'he that shall not be named' and she had so much love to give, and so much to purge. Amy you were an amazing musician, may your soul rest, with ease, and in peace. You have been summoned to the bosom of the love you crave.

It's funny because many people believe she had everything, fame, money, grand success. Yet there was a big piece missing like a huge jigsaw. When something is missing unless you find it or a way to compensate for it, it's still gone. It's like someone giving you a huge bowl of ice cream, yet there's no ice cream, all there is is a cherry on top, a silver spoon to eat the invisible ice cream, and a bowl. You tell everybody else you have ice cream, and it just sounds so fantastic.Amy just wasn't happy,different people use different methods to deal with that, yet sadly her route was drugs, and a relationship that would lead to her all time destruction. Ironically Amy Winehouse being 'such a mess' as the media condemns, is what made such amazing music in the first place. It was her soul, her pain,being shared through music.





I remember watching a bronx tale, and Robert Deniro kept repeating the line, there's nothing worse than wasted talent. Amy Winehouse, may your soul rest peacefully. May that emotional conflict you struggled with , be peacefully removed. R.I.P may your music legacy live on.

News Of the World Whistleblower Sean Hoare found dead.....AND IT'S NOT SUSPICIOUS?

Mr Hoare, who worked for The Sun and the News of the World until 2005, became a key figure in the phone-hacking scandal last year when he was the first reporter to go on the record with allegations that Mr Coulson not only knew about hacking, but "actively encouraged" his staff to intercept voicemail messages.


He told the New York Times that Mr Coulson's claims that he knew nothing about phone hacking were "simply a lie." He later told the BBC that his former editor had personally asked him to access phone messages, a claim that Mr Coulson denied.


Mr Hoare, who was later interviewed under caution by police, made fresh allegations last week, when he said News of the World executives paid police officers to locate "targets" by using their mobile phone signal in an operation known as "pinging".

Then he told a Guardian journalist: "There's more to come. This is not going to go away."


Read more: http://www.vancouversun.com/news/Murdoch+scandal+News+World+whistleblower+Sean+Hoare+found+dead/5120403/story.html#ixzz1SXEOV36R

Seriously, sometimes i wonder wether the media, the politicians, the police, and all the other bodies of key power institutions think the rest of society is stupid. They've been drip feeding, and manipulating us for so long, they've actually bought into the illusion that were all stupid. Sean Hoare the whistle blower get's found dead after ratting out on some of the most powerful, well connected people in the industry, and they expect us to believe he was simply a crack head, with a drug problem, paranoia issues and basically a mess?

Key points to observe people: Those with real power are not like celebrities, they want their actions to stay hidden, unless they get good publicity for them.

Whistleblowers always have more information, they have a whole data base and info drive, on politicians and government. Seedy sex affairs, relationship breakdowns, you name it, their like the ebay of blackmail requirements. Supposedly he even complained he was scared for his life,their now trying to say it was mental health problems give me a break. Or imply that it was the pressure of working in such a 'top notch' arena that brought all his mental health problems to the surface. I've been in journalism myself. There is a lot of pressure, and it's very cut throat. They don't have the time to counsel you through your 'emotional problems' especially if your a 'druggie, with paranoia issues', you'll be a liability to the company. With how many other newsjunkies queing up to take your place, everybody will be raising eyebrows and complaints.
That was no accident.

Chaos of Casey Anthony case:Murder and Mystery

Was there that much circumstantial evidence? How does a mother charged with first degree murder, facing the death penalty for her own daughter? Simply get found guilty for providing false information,and sentenced to One year in jail and $1,000 dollar fine for misdemeanors? For a child that doesn't get to see her next birthday, doesn't get to meet new friends and share new adventures, go on first dates, graduate from school, get married, have her own children. The justice system gets more and more ridiculous. It's almost painful to flick on the tv screens and turn to the news. There's always someone getting away with something, and it seems the judicial system are happy to let these maniacs run riot in our communities, after all, it's not their next door neighbours. It's not their family members, or friends, their lives are tucked away in their own sacred existence. Poor Caylee Marie Anthony (August 9, 2005-June 16,2008)deserves justice. Maybe there was evidence which showed Casey Anthony could not have been there at the time of the murder. Yet, why would a mother fail to report her child missing? Caylee's mother, Casey Anthony, 25, was charged with murder after waiting five weeks to report her daughter missing. Casey maintained that she left Caylee with a babysitter at an Orlando apartment on June 9 and that the sitter abducted her. But according to authorities, that apartment had been vacant since February. Why would a mother provide false information to a law enforcement officer, when the truth would have sped up the case?

Caylee Anthony was reported missing by her grandmother Cindy Anthony and her Skeletal remains were discovered on December 11, 2008, almost five months after she was reported missing. Casey Anthony was indicted on charges of first degree murder and faced the Death penalty. Not only did she enter a plea of not guilty, she did not testify throughout the trial. On July 5, 2011, the jury found Casey Anthony not guilty of murder and other felony charges. The jury found Anthony guilty of four misdemeanor counts of providing false information to a law enforcement officer.

On July 7, 2011, Anthony was sentenced on the misdemeanor charges to one year in jail and a $1,000 fine for each count. With credit for time served and good behavior, her release date was set for July 17, 2011 and she was released at 12:10am on that day.


The case received national media attention in the United States, being called one of the biggest cases of recent. Defense counsel charged that Anthony was being tried in the media to her great detriment while she was facing the death penalty. The case has been cited as an example of the unfairness of prejudicial pretrial publicity with the potential for impacting the rights of defendants in the United States.

Angelina Jolie, Cheryl Cole, Dame Helen Mirren, Jessica Alba,What do these women have in common? The tattoo shop, Henna

We've all been curious about creative sensuality of tattoo art. I even sat and sweated on the tattooist chair, till i saw the needle, and sprinted for dear life. Not everyone escaped creative retribution, many celebrities, and of course, the humans with less PR, Stylist and Marketing teams have had tattoos done.


Only to hate them, and be full of regret. Here is my other less painful,less permanent, more desirable option...Henna. Check out these pics!

henna

Jennifer Lopez is divorcing Marc Anthony? Geeze J Lo. who won't you divorce

Sad to say i'm not a J LO groupie but she's turning herself into Jordan marrying and divorcing left to right. Seriously,i'm starting to wonder wether the institution of marriage for celebrity's is just a charade to acquire more publicity. I do believe that the press and those pap hounds (Papparazi) add pressure to their relationships, and there is a struggle to protect their private selves.

Yet i can't help but logicalise that whilst most normal people go through a divorce, there's the depression, the sharing of assets, the shopping, and the hide and seek. Celebrities go through divorces, get made over, have magazine deals ready, new contacts and ad campaigns in place. I won't dare say it's unfair because they worked hard for all of this. Yet there are celebrities who make millions primarily from making up and breaking up alone. That's how they stay in the papers, keep the buzz going, and generate the millions. Marc Anthony seems kinda hot, seriously J Lo....what's wrong with this one?

Greed and Stupidity: Taiwanese man forks out £258,000..For a Croissant

Seriously,there's people dying of starvation in third world countries, hell i was starving last week, and this muppet is being scammed £258,000 for a croissant? Uhhm. A Taiwanese gentleman was scammed £258,000 after trying to buy 'French Bread so delicious it will make you cry.' Hillarious. He was actually supposed to buy this 'romantic' french bread for 99 Taiwanese dollars (£2.12)but kept being tricked into sending money. First the bank manager of the bakery,then the 'monetary supervision commission' and many more calls requesting he send more money.It was only after the seventh transmission of cash, and after he'd transferred 12 million Taiwanese dollars (£258,000) that he realised he'd been scammed.That's what i call severe terminator greed. 7 times? You fool me once shame on you, you fool me seven times....that's comic i'm sorry. People keep talking about the recession, there's money alright, it's being hoarded in the bakery! Oh well, i guess the French bread made him cry after all.

Top funniest website find this week: I hate him.com

It's true, i am not kidding. There is a website online called i hate him. com. Who would have guessed it. A site to vent all your anger and frustrations about someone you truly loathe. There are over 600 stories, which means over 600 people decided to start a delicious rant about some guy in their life. www.Ihatehim.com

No kidding, this is actually real. Someone actually took the time to market this website, paid money for a domain, used their networking abilities both online and offline. Then again when people need to vent, they need to vent.

How to use effective search Engine optimisation: The fun way

If many of you are like me and draw a blank when the sci fi techno words come in. I would describe Search Engine optimisation as the high school attempt at popularity. If we are trying to keep it simple of course. Your attempt at high school popularity was a myriad of social networking, base introductions, learning about what people your interested in are interested in themselves, creating alliances, and basically giving the hard sell. Everything in life is about marketing. Selling your skills, promoting who you are, and making it clear to others why they should be picking you. Search engine Optimisation is about getting noticed.

Point A. If you got all glammed up to get the attention of your crush, and you kept attending all the places you were guaranteed to not see them. What would be the outcome? most of the time, the outcome would be ineffective. You'd want to dress up, look amazing, show up at all the hot spots you know they'd be, and find opportunities to get an introduction. Your audience is your crush. Like any individual that's smitten, you want them to know who you are and what you have to offer. Think of the What's in it for me scenario? Why should they be interested in you over the other 100, or millions of people that draw their attention?

The chat up line: Chat up lines are effective when used the right way. Key terminology,or lingo to get your subjects interested in you. I recently met a guy who was talking to me about what he thought was just his seduction technique, to me it sounded like marketing. "You tell people what they want to know, give them the info they want," He paused and smiled, "i tell people what they want to hear. Your not exactly gonna tell a girl you approach that you think she's but ugly, can you sleep with her?" I burst out laughing, and we even did a really funny sketch about this.


Do your research and find out what's trending: For example you don't watch the weather find out it's sunny, and show up in a snowsuit. What are your target audience interested in? What are the

most popular articles read in your area of expertise, books related to them, Websites you can visit and swap links with? What P.R sites and directory's can you market some key information in? Is there info about corses, events, people networks and products you have access to that they may not? Do you know specialist websites that can be of use? ask the right questions to get the right answers. Tight, clean question. Which means producing a list of key questions and key objectives.



Have a theme so the search engine knows exactly where to place you. For example no one shows up at a ballroom party dressed up for halloween, if that isn't the theme.

Remember human beings are emotional creatures. What emotion will your site or the products on it produce? Adventure, escapism, confidence boosts. Why did you pick this topic? What about it appealed to you emotionally? For example i produced a photography campaign that recieved a response of over 300 models and 200 plus makeup artists. Why did they respond? I tapped into their feeling of frustration for their industry, and their need for validation. From doing my research and spending time with a few models i knew that many of them were fed up of being passed over whilst women they considered to be more than average, or ridiculously connected were thrown into the industry.




Do you have a unique selling point? If your frustrated that you don't, just remember there is nothing new under the sun, and there are trigger words that always make people click in. Info on Sales, hot places to visit, reviews, questions and answers, trendy products, or unique products.


List yourself on the popular directories, infact on as many directories as you feel will get the publicity you need. Use key search words to attract audiences. Words that you use to repetitively advertise or promote yourself on google.


Get excited and blog or promote if not everyday, every weekend.It's like that party your organising if you tell no one, no one will show up. So you need to create that buzz, heighten that excitement, let audiences seek out that adventure, or advice their looking for, and will find in you. Remember, you have what their looking for, you just need to direct them to where you are.

seo

A shakesperian heart: My Mistresses eyes'

Amuse yourself if you may. I think i'm one of those Shakesperian romantics, possibly in love with the concept of being in love. The rush of emotion, a control freaks tidal wave of things and events they can't puppet. The questions, the answers, the different perspectives. One of my favourite poems of all time is definitely My mistresses eyes. I knew it word for word, and recited it to some sixth former i was smitten with in high school. Along with sending cheesey arse love letters, sharing that poem rocked me to the very core of my being. An insecure teenage girl had found a poem that spoke volumes, about one man loving his woman and celebrating her flaws.

My Mistress eyes
Sonnet 130
William Shakespeare

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

My Mistress eyes
Sonnet 130
William Shakespeare