It’s a fact, shoes are my weak point. Does that make me a sex object that men can freely dispose of? No, I do not think so. Am I the bad girl because I dress the way I dress? What about those who project their perverse thoughts on me? Think about it.
Something big is approaching us, dark clouds of foreboding are piling up on the horizon. You can feel the tension in the electrified air, it’s almost like feeling the discharge on your skin. It seems as if time has stopped, everything is silent, a deceptive peace.
Congratulations, good job, now you know the secret. Yes, James was always just a distraction, his manner was perfect for drawing attention so I, Miss Moneypenny, could do the work in the background quietly.
I feel helpless, I don’t know what to say, I don’t know whether to cry or yell. But I’m standing here and I’m not going to give the fucking racists and fascists a single inch.
Some day, and that day may never come, I’ll call upon you to do a service for me. But, until that day, accept this favor as a gift.
Technically, I’m actually not Transsexual but Intersexual. That’s a big difference, but for the sake of simplicity, I call myself a Tranny.
No words needed, just enjoy the peaceful moment.
You will find my eyes higher up. No, these are not my eyes, look even higher. Well, now we can talk.
Sometimes life can go strange ways.
Whoever fights can lose, whoever does not fight has already lost.