Damn me....curse meee..........*bangs head against keyboard...*

SEXY LADY/ HOT BOY. You are hot, no matter what you
do. There are not many people like you.
Beautiful from inside and outside. The opposite
sex feels pleased with you. They treat you
like a god/goddess. The other ones are jealous
of you because they try to be sexy and
attractive but you are it. Maybe you're a bit
arrogant, or you seem . And some think that
they should better not even try to get a date
with you because your sex appeal scares them.
Sometimes it even unnerves you the way they are
running after you. . You need change-Sometimes you like shy and
sometimes you like extrovert.
~THE big LOVE TEST!! What do you need? With PICS! For girls and boys!~
brought to you by Quizilla

Does raise the question what exactly the opposite sex is....but let's not go there.  Read that as, the sex(es) that are attracted atall, I suppose.  But geez....I mean, that this should trump both intellect and passion and adventure and even the intimacy/independence continuum altogether....I dunno....it says very little about what I need or want atall, except variety itself according to my mood....what sort of criteria is that to go on?   Says a lot more about how I come across to others, at least lately and in a favourable light...but damn--can I escape it?  No--apparently not.  I'd have to be a different person for that--I stick out too much, and am not fond of lurking blankly when I can furnish my profiles with panache.  Literally, a la Cyrano--"mon panache" sticks up a mile away.  I have not been looking for people since the last time--I'm far too often wrong and swayed by first sight when I go trolling for "interesting people", sometimes even confusing them with figments of my own fictional imagination.  Not to mention what's there to talk about?  Which is why I "lie in wait" with my parlours furnished with lush and deep and decadent interests, and wait for someone else to speak first, so I know what sort of person they are.  Listening to the sound when two glasses strike together, feeling on that intuitive level whether it's the ring of truth and destiny or just another passer-by who missed the sticky threads.

Spiders and fine crystal, what a combination.  What a tangled web we weave....but not like It or Shelob, more like Professor Moriarty at the center of his own rich tapestry, listening to each vibration, each shift in the air.  Except that I'm not evil--at least, it's not my conscious intent.  So make that Sherlock Holmes at the center of the web, and multiply the Watsons (add a few iterations of all chars just to be sure, even Mycroft and Musgrave and Baskerville), and then here comes Irene Adler (make that a slim youth in an ulster) crossing my path, and whaddaya know, the mental milieu just happens to mesh.  Ouch.  Sticky threads indeed....

Nothin' like "speaking in riddles", eh?  I'll gladly challenge the Bland Red Death to a battle of wits (hahaha.....), but it takes two to tango out on that virtual dance floor there....I need a partner who can teach me how to lead.  (Momentary silly break, just to cite the forewarning of 'La Penetrada' on The Simpsons..."Eet makes sex look like church!!")   I can also give private singing lessons....even attempt a white stallion as well, just to cover all the angels.  I mean, angles.  Ma faute....mais non, cherie, il est totallement delibere'  (damn this disablement of proper accents et al....).  If I fall on my ass, I fall on my ass....

Shite.  Bollocks.  Well, this is the stuff that would go right over people's heads anyhow at AlchemyGold 'cause it's so diffuse...I'm just going to bring up the whole "white knight" issue for them.  Anyone who's watched Starsky & Hutch (the series, not the movie, people...) should be able to get that one illustrated....or glark it from another context, it's a perfectly traditional archetype.

Archetypical.  I've used that one a lot that way....the archetypical being the self-consciously archetypal, of course.  It is archetypical for me to sacrifice myself, for example, one way or another--or to retreat into private and intense deepdark realms.  To hibernate below the surface of the world and to emerge with the warming sun, literal or figurative.  To bear secrets and burthens I cannot lay aside nor delegate.  At the moment I may feel rather archetypically like picking up a lyre and heading off to the Underworld to do some rescuing...either the eloquently Orphic way or the bluntly Herculean, whatever it takes. 

And then there's Tannha:user, and Ruggiero...and then Odysseus, the man of many wiles, lifting his sword and disarming Circe's sorcery.  Wane away, Venusberg--and if Elizabeth chooses to die a vyrtuous rose on vergin stemme, then perhaps Bradamante will see fit to redeem all things by her deviant contradiction (like Viola herself, as she spoke of concealment feeding / upon a sister, she in brother's form...).  Wane away, Alcina's isle, with the pale and envious moon....there is fuel and skill enough for truer phantasy here, and a New Year to begin.  What are you doing New Year's...New Year's--

Or I could just shut up, of course.  

"Ivan is a tomb," wrote Dostoyevsky, in Dmitri's voice--Aureantes, on the other hand, can atimes resemble more the old Breton church at Perros-Guirec, its unearthed bones and skulls stacked about the foundation, just waiting and watching for the most ironic time to lose integrity.  And then....well, heads will roll.  So painfully literal....

Wait, this was originally about me being some sort of sexy boy, right....?  Nrrrgggg....chalk up yet another morbid mental labyrinth to my tally....