:onland://online/practice/

12.12.2001

This is Writing Writing/Practice Naked (I'm not really naked). I choose a topic and write on that topic for no more than ten minutes. The only editing I do is for typos (I won't fix grammar, and sometimes, I won't even fix typos. As a matter of fact, you may occasionally come across unfinished sentences). This "non-editing" function does indeed have a purpose. I believe that raw writing is telling about the person writing. If I wrote in my practice notebooks at home with a pen, it isn't likely I'd go back to edit the text. So it is here. I may have a computer--but I'm trying to...shall we say..."keep it real." If you find the topic inspirational, I would love to post a link to your own rendition. Please email me your link. I think it'd be fantastic. Enjoy!

For a very insightful reading of my vagina, read this and don't say I never warned you!

The Vagina Monologues: Improvised by CMR

If your vagina were an animal, what animal would it be? My vagina would be tiger, a roaring lion, a mountain goat and a fish. My vagina would be slithering and slivering, drooling and jaw gnashing. My vagina would grate its teeth together at night and hunt in the dark, when no other vaginas hunt. My vagina whispers before it prowls and sometimes waits, silently, in the bush, for the rush of a swooping partridge or quail, for the quiet caw of a crow and then my vagina is the grow, on the lawn, in the ear, waking up the neighbors. My vagina is an irritant, in the way, skittering and scattering while others try to live on, in normalcy. Beware: my vagina is a pest, everywhere, not fly swatter will get rid of it. It sits on the TV screen over the beautiful actresses nose and it reminds you, a viewer, a survivor, a human who denies sexuality, it reminds you that there are vaginas, powerful and well-rooted. Strong and pesky.

If your vagina could wear clothes, what would it wear? My vagina would wear denim, purple and red and classic blue. My vagina would wear ripped t-shirts and muscle shirts and loose tanktops. Her breasts would fall out and down and flop to the side when she lay in her bed. My vagina would sometimes wear stilettos but never walk. Only hold them up into the light while she looks at her gorgeous legs, naked in the stilettos, in a mirror. My vagina would walk in the nude, flashing her buttocks and vagina-hair. She would waves her arms wildly and bring her shoulders back, sticking out her vagina saying, "born like me!"

If your vagina could speak, what would it say? "Speak to me like your lover and your slut. Say I'm beautiful. Watch me tear you apart and the world. Watch me smirk my smart smirk because I understand that life goes beyond clothing, beyond animals, beyond words. There is a core to me like there is a core to the world and you must beware of that core. It burns. It lashes out. It scars your skin and makes you blind unless you smile, open your eyes, look and accept and scream in absolute resolute: vagina!"

If your vagina were a man, what would he look like? I would look like a mound of dirt with sparkling diamonds and swimming in a wonderful clear lake. I would like red pebbles stuck between his toes. I would look like a swinging penis, rigid in the air, strong as s soldier, small as Napolean. I would lean out of windows with my brunette head and dark full curls, my brown eyes winking, my tears streaming over the hard jaw that is my face. My lips would be red, swollen from tears and from them would come forth my favorite woman's name, huggable in the night, kissable in the day, loving always for me: "Vagina!"

If your vagina could be any color, what color would it be? Purple for the gems in the sea that have no color but that which you choose. Red for the blood that symbolizes fierceness and mortality. Blue for the color of the sky that feed the earth below and provides plentiful fruits and grains. Brown for the dirt below that buries the bodies of the dead, born once of my vagina and now recycled to the earth to go the sky to control the movements in my womb which beg to give birth again, again and again.

If you were your vagina, what would you be? I would be me.