demacrux: (Default)
Oh, this wasn't supposed to happen. This was just not my sort of thing. I'm not the type to appear in front of a group of people I find attractive in nothing more than a t-shirt and some boy-shorts. But here I am in such attire and boy, do I feel naughty. I don't quite know, what provoked me to actually do this, to think that this was a good idea. I prance along to the song and shake what things I do have to offer(which isn't much really). I hear the audience clapping along and enjoying the performance, though as time goes on, my face, initially looking as flushed as it could, seems to lose it's sense of shame. More confident, my "burlesque" goes into a more silly form, with drama of all kinds filling the air. I laugh and sing and even go off the stage for a more personal view. I play and flirt and nothing seems to matter. Yes I am naughty, but it's only an act. Everything up here is an act. The only time they've seen what is really me was the beginning, when I was filled with doubt. Now I'm confident and looking awkwardly alluring and I could wish for nothing better than this.

November 2014

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