The Gypsy Girl @ the edge of the world

 

People say the world is round so there can be no edge.

But that’s simply not true.

For the Gypsy Girl stares out over the edge

Looking into the dark abyss which is beyond the world

Behind her there is a world of life filled with hope

In front there is the void that shows nothing and releases nothing

She cannot pull away

She has looked back to the world once or twice

When a gentle hand has touched her and helped her back

But the void calls to her

A sweet sad song

A song that says “join me”

She cannot pull away and is tired

Tired of fighting

Tired of standing

So she sits

Her legs dangling over the edge of the world

A weird sensation fills her

She can feel the darkness wrap around her legs

It feels strangely comforting

The darkness seeps in through her feet

It chills and warms at the same time

The siren song promises no more pain if she slips into the deep

So easy it would be to let go

Push off from the ledge and sink

But then the hope in the world would be lost to her

Then again so will all the pain

There is no pain in the void

There is no fear

There is no worry

She leans over

She stares closer into the dark

She hears the sweet song

She inches closer

Her legs dangling even farther

She reaches out her hand

The other firmly grasping the ground behind her

Darkness moves towards the outstretched hand

Her fingers start to let loose of the ground

She leans even farther

She completely lets go

She starts to slip over the edge of the world

You grab her shoulders just in time

You pull her up and step back from the edge

You hold her in your arms

She asks you why

You kiss her forehead and hold tighter

She whispers thank you

The adventuring party

                The Gypsy girl had been involved in several different adventuring parties. Many of them were made up of the same type of people. Perhaps that’s because she had always been attracted to those types. She had also had lovers and love interests in the past. She had been both hunter and prey when it came to love. She had been both accepted and denied. She had both accepted and denied others. However this time, with this party, things were different.

 It was still a large party with many of the same types. A motley crew that many would think could survive together. Unlikely friends who should never have met. But those people couldn’t see the connections. They couldn’t see the string that ran through the group and the intricate web that continued to shift and change. The Gypsy could however. On an instinctual level even if no a physical level she could see the connections in the world as well as the potential.  That potential was not only in the world around her but the individuals which she came in contact with.

Now all adventuring parties no matter how big or small have a tendency to splinter within the party. This is not to say the turn against each other. In fact when it is time for a quest they will cover each other until the very end even if it means there own life. No, when I talk about splintering I mean during the down time. You have a lot of one on one time depending on the person. Apparently this has been the case with the Gypsy, who no one can seem to get enough time with. But for the Gypsy she had a core interest group. Three she was hopelessly attracted to. Three she couldn’t figure out why because while they had similarities they were hugely different.

Who are they? Well you have the wizard, the damsel, and the warrior. They have different personalities and alignments but for whatever reason she was drawn to them. So what makes them so special? That is a story for another time.

The Gypsy Girl and the Knife

 

When you work in the family business you’re surrounded by tools of that trade. For the little Gypsy Girl one of those tools was the knife. The knife is a tool used to open things. This is just what the Gypsy Girl did on a daily bases. Over time one thing would become the sole object of her focus to open.

As time went by she started feeling more and more restricted by her prison. The walls which grew with her seemed to not grow fast enough. They restricted her. She couldn’t seem to break free. Not only did the prison restrict her soul, it concealed the Gypsy girl from the sight of the world. No one could see her true beauty. They couldn’t see the love she had to share. They couldn’t see her pain. Worst of all because of this prison they couldn’t even see that she was a girl.

                Not everything was bad about this prison. After all it had an amazing design that was very clever. It was able to grow as to not be too cramped. It didn’t look like a prison so no one would know she was a captive. It was mobile allowing her to see things even if she couldn’t really feel them.

                So she took the knife firmly in her grasp. She turned it on the prison trying to release her true self. The more she scratched at it the more frustrated she became. They could never understand why she did it. They didn’t realize the prison she was trapped so escape made no sense. They would tell her that they understood that she was trying to feel something. But all she wanted to do was escape.

                Finally she turned to the witches and their potions. Slowly the potions and spells started to transform the prison. People could start to see what she truly was and that she was a she. What many couldn’t see was the lock. It was cleverly hidden. Some knew it was there. A few seemed to take delight in reminding her of it. Perhaps they felt she should remain imprisoned.  Perhaps they were angry about their own prisons. Others who didn’t know about the lock she had to keep at a safe distance for fear they would punish her for trying to escape.

                So she fondles the knife wanting to scratch at the lock. Sometimes she comes close to prying it open herself. Instead she scratches at the remaining walls.

After all when trying to open a lock t is better to use a lock smith. But still patients wears thin.

Who is there for the gypsy

The gypsies come into town

They live on the fringes of society

They survive by entertaining they locals

They give a show

They cause you to ooo and aww

They cause you to laugh and cry

They offer you comfort

They give you advice

They listen to your problems

You give them money if they are lucky

You use them for their talents

You then shun them

But

Who comforts them

Who gives advice to them

Who listens to their problems

Defective: a small rant.

I’m so fucking tired of feeling defective. I never know if people don’t want to get close relationship wise because of me or what I call the birth defect. I have had straight guys confirm that because of that 5% male they are a little (sometimes more than a little) turned off. I wonder if that is a problem with the lesbians I know as well. I will admit that I have depression and suicide issues also. Those however have been determined to be linked to the TG/TS situation which I have going on.

 I also get people telling me how fucking intelligent I am. Which first of all makes me think their idiots. Mainly because I hang around with some hard core nerds. Also I know where I lack knowledge and how much I bullshit.

In any case I’m tired of this fucking eternal limbo which is now my life. I didn’t ask to be born TS it just happened and I tried for 3 decades to deal with it and except a bod which was my prison and guess what. It didn’t work.