You're right. Sorry, I got a bit heated up. Hate it when my message is mistaken and I appear to be what I'm not. Thnx.
Half the "beautiful experiences" shared here were about staring at babies. Somebody has to make them.
Beautiful experiences? I will give you a different one from star(t)ing (at) babies. How about reading your own story and being amazed all over that you were the one who got the words out? Disclaimer: I am only talking about being in love with my own words, not that others would share the same exhilaration with them . No hubris!
"How about reading your own story and being amazed all over that you were the one who got the words out?" Ooh! Yes! What a lovely feeling! Only to have it posted here and see it being shredded to pieces (No, I mean, there are wonderful critics here). But still, sometimes I feel like the next Nabokov in my own, strictly personal universe
LALITA 'Goodnight girls,' said uncle Fester. He closed the wooden door, and breathing heavily, stepped the landing under bulb, reached for his favourite stool, drew the stool close, up against the key hole. On the other side the community cheerleaders played in their nighties, feathers spread amidst the tremendous excitement of the pillow combat, girls wrestled upon many beds. Fester bit his lip, drew blood that trickled down his chin. Suddenly the door swung wide open, smashed Fester to the ground. 'Oh my gosh,' said Sandy. 'Mister Fester!' said Abigail, for surely the avuncular fellow had lost all consciousness, and a dozen girls dragged the old man toward a single bed frame for close monitoring, for recuperation until the authorities arrived with their handcuffs.
How awesome is that? One thing I envy school teachers, particularly for the earlier grades, is being witness to so many moments when young minds suddenly "get it" and learn something new. By the way, if any of my influencing school teachers are reading this or gazing down from Above - thank you!
Always intentional when somebody asks... Haven't used avuncular before. Don't tell, but only learned the meaning a year or two ago... As to original point of post, and from somebody who worked for many years under city skies - I do get quite evangelical about a weak winter sunshine, wildlife abouts, and that strike of vitamin D on cheek - gets me high crazy grateful - pious old fool-dog, me...walking through the farm, working. Otherwise it's only waiting, a short pain, this concentration. Aye, time for a dog.
What does this imply? I mean it's good. Nice that humanity still thinks there's some value in raising actual kids. Not spoiled, mean little brats who think their asses are the center of the whole universe. One thing is good though about these brats: They're particularly skilled at enforcing their rights. Alas, bad for you if you're around and if out of these broors grow up.
@matwoolf "Don't tell, but only learned the meaning a year or two ago..." Two months ago in my case. It's a lovely word, has a pleasing, cloying melody.
Keep them coming, I'm enjoying this thread. I've a lot to mention—but it'd turn into the lyrics of 'a few of my favourite things'. So, bang on topic this (but with me posting a pic cause the little grey cells aren't allowing me this evening to come up with a worthy description). It's the moment we get a collision courtesy of those atomic colliders we're using of late to get to the core of existence.
This is a total chicken/egg scenario, though. Fact is, girls are constantly sent the message (to quote you) that their asses are, in fact, the center of their universe. Being a teenager is a tough time for everyone with those hormones racing. Perhaps the girls you think are simply trying to rouse you up (when in reality it's a lot more likely that they're trying to rouse up their peers and you're getting roused in the process) actually think they have nothing else to offer? Have you ever considered that instead of seeing them as "horny little bitches" you might actually step outside the status quo and offer them the contradicting idea that they do, in fact, have a very valuable mind to offer and future ahead of them, should they choose to believe it? I don't see you as a sexual predator, for the record, and I never implied that. What I stated is that it's a damn shame that a girl can't wear tights without being sexualized and told that it's her fault. That sounds eerily similar to rapists in court who justify their actions by saying the victim had it coming, based on what she was wearing. It's an extremely common mentality that absolutely needs to end -- and having conversations like this one, be it uneasy or uncomfortable in feeling is the way we begin to end it. We discussed what we should teach girls who act out in the aforementioned regard, but what's rarely discussed is what we should teach boys. Contrary to popular opinion, they also have a valuable mind -- one which is entirely capable of looking at a woman or a girl and seeing something other than a sex object to be used for their pleasure. And when it happens, it should not be mishandled in the ever so common manner of "boys will be boys" or "men will be men." Much like the girl wearing a shirt that shows her bra and dressing inappropriately, it should be addressed and corrected in a way that solves for the root issue. Period.
My code is that if I stare at any lady who catches my eye for to long then I have to go and talk to her and see if I like her mind and personality as much as I like her looks. Now that might sound weird but people you've got to understand......I learned my passion in the good ol fashioned school of loverboys See I say "I'd like for you and I to go romancing." and that's how I got to meet a lady. She enjoyed caviar, cigarettes and is well versed in etiquette and extraordinarily nice. I mean she was really ....dynamite with a laser beam and guranteed to blow your mind anytime. But her beauty and her style went smooth after awhile but ohhhhhh I still get my pleasure, still got my greatest treasure because a big woman made a big man out of me! Anyway gonna go ride my bicycle. Spoiler: Truth I'm sure you've all guessed which band gives me infinite musical beauty
I read that part about "catches my eye" thinking about her catching you looking at her, the idiom nowhere in mind, and I'm thinking to myself, 'holy crap, you either have a lot of confidence or some sort of self-consciousness about being thought of as a gawker.' "Oh, hi, I noticed you wear a French twist...parle tu francais?"
Guys, this was a really good idea for a thread. Let's not derail it any further with our political agendas. Each of us has a right to his or her own standard of beauty.
Says the guy who originally derailed the thread. Lol. Though I have a hard time seeing how promoting the desexualization of young girls is "political," I digress, @123456789 Tiny moments of infinite beauty? Stormy days and very old things. The nostalgia of the wide open spaces and wind mill farms in west Texas. The sound the wind makes whirring up a mountain, then standing on top of it marveling at creation.
I think I drank the wrong beer tonight. Has me romantically inclined. I'll dump it here and search for a cure Several things come to mind. 1.) Winter air. Below freezing. When the air hits you skin and it almost takes your breath away. Then, you exhale a cloud of steam and you know you're alive. 2.) Dropping an egg on the kitchen floor. Watching an embryo hurdle and flip, before it makes a nice thwap-splat. What's left is an orange-yellow smear that looks like a Turner painting. A beautiful mess. 3.) Old paper and wood. Cedar is a favorite as is fresh cut apple, walnut or cherry. The smell is an evening walk in the woods. I wish I could bottle the pain and pleasure of smooth wood and paper to bare feet and hands. Walking around a hardwood floor barefoot is amazing. Even a splinter has a unique after-the-fact "serves you right". When blank, paper is promise and dismay. When full, it's treasure and sludge.
@sidtvicious 2.) Dropping an egg on Tue kitchen floor. Watching an embryo hurdle and flip, before it makes a nice thwap-splat. What's left is an orange-yellow smear that looks like a Turner painting. A beautiful mess. Sick.
Let me recount for you the succession of 3 posts on the first page: First, 1-9 talks about ogling a woman's ass. Second, DueNorth quotes 1-9 to say that there are many different forms of beauty to appreciate in this world. Then, you say This explicitly means that you are agreeing with 1-9 that girls' asses can provide beauty to appreciate in this world. Your next sentence is You are combining the thoughts of appreciating girls' asses as a form of beauty followed by luridly describing teenage girl's asses that you see in class. How did you expect people to interpret this? It reads like you are explicitly stating you ogle teenage girls' asses, and you appreciate their asses' beauty. When Mckk correctly interprets what you wrote, you use the opportunity to clarify what you meant: You clarify that you do understand ogling teenage girls' asses is wrong. Great. But then you do this: Your sentences have some ambiguity, but you appear to be saying--at best--that you implicitly agree with teenage girls being treated as "meat" depending on how they dress. At worst, you are agreeing with them being treated as "meat" depending on how they dress, and you are saying worse than them being treated as "meat" is that dressing this way forces you to either exert a lot of self-control to not ogle them or to be called a pervert when you ogle them--and who can blame you for ogling them when their clothing bears responsibility for your ogling? Either you did an awful job of communicating in this thread, or you have some very disturbing views.
I'd like to embellish my original post a bit lest it gets tossed into the 'staring at babies' category. It was so much more than my daughter and I mooning over her newborn. My daughter's face registered the sudden realisation of responsibility that comes with parenthood. Her look was not to the newborn but to me, as if to say, "I get it Mum... I finally understand." To a mother, that's priceless.
