Saturday, 4 February 2012

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us

It’s about mixing the colours in the mind.

And I just take the pink and the black in my mind as I struggle as she looks back.

The silence seems to feed us.

I remember just fixing the guitar or rather I felt as if I were sleeping, wait, I was playing the guitar, falling asleep and I was dreaming that I should fix it.

There was no snow.

There is no fucking snow in London, she didn’t even have her hood up, she just stood there in a hoodie. Her short hair matched the colours of the fabrics she wore and she shivered slightly. I played a wrong note, but she stayed.

I stopped playing and then she just sat down on the stairs.

Maybe I should have taken out some apple for her to eat as I would think that I would get a crowd, but instead I stopped playing and turned on some TV flicking through the channels and wondering if I had enough money to just keep on sitting and flicking through TV as people would be late for work.

I wonder if she’ll be there once I actually just sit near the window sill and I start playing.

I open the window.

She isn’t there.

So I close it.

I start playing.

I see her walk past and onto the stairs, I hear the door open, so I stop playing.

I put the guitar aside and I actually feel myself worried. It feels as if I’ve never had an audience but maybe it’s because I could be checking my mail with her staring at me in the next morning and she’ll say hi and maybe even say her name.

I go to get groceries and I wonder if she chooses the Sainsbury’s which is on the corner rather than this small Tesco, so I just stand in the line, wondering when was the last time I’ve gone out to eat even pizza and a glass of beer, so I just exhale and I look at all the scattered chewing gums with different flavoured condoms for a quid.

Should I get them?

I just look down at my old sneakers which feel exactly like my socks when I just lean my feet against the wall and wonder if I can tear off the wallpaper at dawn and I smile wrapping myself up in my covers and I wonder if tomorrow will be the day when I trim my hair by myself.

I wonder if those two I have are expired but then don’t condoms last for a year? And I limit myself the apple supply by getting a pack and wondering which occasion do I have and wanking in rubber isn’t that comforting while asides the fact that when you lie in bed you have the illusion that you might just have came inside some vagina and that those are mixed fluids and that maybe she got her period and she’s applying a tampon or walked outside and got lost in the sea of tampons and didn’t come back.


And that’s why your bed smells of sperm.

So I just lay, wondering if I should drag that small television over here or if I should flick through the magazines the previous owner left, cutting out faces and them sticking it onto the girl’s forehead and kissing her cheeks.

Seemed too naive.

So the next time I play I open the window and I try to guess her near to twenties age and she just looks at me and I smile.

“Hi.” I say. Hands on the windowsill and she has her hood up this time actually and her face looks red not from the winter soothe but from her feelings.

“Hi.” She says and walks a bit closer to the window so that I could touch the tip of her nose if I really wanted to. “I like how you-you play.”

I lean against the window sill and my old t-shirt’s back hole feels a bit too big and thin, so I am thankful to the radiator against my knees. I don’t invite her over, we just stare at each other for a while.

“Thanks.” I laugh and I wonder if she’s even over her eighteens as she doesn’t apply much kohl and she looks like if you give her a lollipop she’d smile and actually skip.

I want to ask her if she wants candy.

Instead I close the window sill, smiling and drag the bed covers on the floor, covering myself in them, as she gets to the window and smiles at me, waves, all red and leaves.

There is a band tonight and I sneak in because the music is too loud and I know the bartender and the bartender knows that I’ll drink so much that I’ll pay for the tickets twice and the band is shit. It’s too cliche punk and I just sit there, not even looking at the stage but being glad to the amount of alcohol going to my mouth and in the end I look to see the screaming and I see the girl who I bought the condoms for and I just look at how she jumps and moves.

I smile and I keep watching her, amused by how red she is and how fiery her voice is and

Well, I’d use those condoms and I look down at the liquid to drain it. Not sure she’d go for the sweater I’m wearing for warmth even if it’s too hot here. I press myself against the counter and I watch her, my vision going blurry as I see her on top of me and I want to touch myself, so instead I just tap myself to the music.

Maybe I will use those condoms indeed.

I scratch my head the next day, should’ve washed, should’ve bought shampoo.

I have the box near the socks which are near the radiator and I touch myself on the rug near the windowsill with the open windows and I imagine her slowly taking off her clothes and I think by the time I will come my face will be just as red. I wonder how many blokes came inside her or were they all rubber?

I keep sliding my fingers up and down and I wonder if she, well, she’s American, she should give a blow job, right?

I recall the first one which was due to myself talking about guitars and the girl just going down, being one of my school friend’s girlfriends.

The sensation for whatever reason, maybe due to age, I stuck the girl stalker and I kept stroking harder, harder and I had a knock on the window, harder


she knocks

too good




“J-just a moment.” I say and I am covered in myself.

I wipe my hands on my legs, shaking I get a pair of jeans from under the bed and I open the curtains to greet the girl with my jeans unbuttoned, but I cover myself from myself with the guitar and I start playing, watching her.

After a song I open the window.

“Hi.” I say and keep playing, a bit more quiet, grinning, trying to get her to grin.

“Hi.” And she just looks at me, gets a bit of her hair behind her ears.

“You were amazing yesterday. Uh, I saw you, like with your band playing. You’re amazing.” And I smile at her and she just says nothing. I want her. “Uh, wanna come inside?”

And she just makes her way in and I open her to greet her. I button my jeans as we enter the small amount of space between the walls and she chooses a pillow lying on the floor to sit on and I don’t offer her tea, I think of bringing us water but instead I sit opposite her, wanting to touch her and kiss her, so badly, as if I didn’t touch myself before and she just smiles.

“I’m Jamie.” Should I say that I’m thirty? But instead I want to lean so badly and I want to see her breasts, I want her to talk of America as I would flick through the channels and kiss her thighs.

“Alison.” She smiles and she’s all red again.

I find her cute.

She finds me cute.

We might just as well eventually kiss.


I'm sorry for taking so long to post this, I am currently ill and I believe the medicine I'm on makes me drowsy so I spend a lot of time sleeping or waiting to drink it or eating. Very fun.

But I'm feeling better and hopefully I will have the Jack/Alison up soon. Sorry about the delays once more and do keep the requests coming.

If anyone feels like it I can continue this story, so really just tell me either here or on tumblr and I hope you enjoyed at my attempt to guess what actually happened between Jamie and Alison.

The title was a quick attempt to name the file and it's reference to the beginning.

Thank you very much

I hope you enjoyed it

<3 data-blogger-escaped-a="" data-blogger-escaped-href="">Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 2


  1. I love this, so much. Please continue it!

  2. Aw, thank youuuu!:3 I will post a new chapter later on today or tomorrow:)