Saturday, 30 June 2012

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 9

The snow doesn’t cover the streets.

Play dumb.

The snow doesn’t evena fall instead rain pours down and it’s Christmas for both me and Alison for a split second until we realize that it’s long gone and we just sigh, our heads against each other and I clear my throat before I look outside the bus.

We are traveling from London to Edinburgh the other way round but I still fake it.

“Did you bring the cards?” With a fake accent and after a while I tell Alison that it’s Trainspotting and that we could see Leith for the fuck of it, but it isn’t as scary as it as long as you don’t peek into the bars and the streets are empty with the chains slowly filling up the corners of Edinburgh and giving some expectation that the bars won’t close the same time as Starbucks does.

I press myself closer against the window and I watch the rain and I close my eyes, feeling Alison drift and I wake up and she’s pacing around the bus until she dazes off in the seat in front of me with her hand hanging and pointing towards Scotland.

We wake up we all do and we look at the station as if this is where Renton crawls and we wobble out onto Prince Street with a few fags in hand, bus wasn’t too expensive and crashing at someone with food is better than staying at our own with stale bread, I don’t try to catch the accent and Alison’s seems exotic and we don’t get an umbrella or even a broken one because after the first wind and well, no one has a not broken umbrella here anyway, we end up sitting on a bench under the tree, facing the old centre, the rain blowing out the fags, the trains reminding of comfort which you need to gain someday and I exhale, feeling nothing.

And then I open my eyes to feel Edinburgh stroke me.

It’s good to forget how tense you are and let the corners get soaked in life for a difference and the nothing

Fuck, I didn’t feel nothing and I look at Alison’s glass eyes as she got a joint from somewhere and how she exhales

Sometimes I don’t do drugs

But I take the joint

Just not to feel Scotland and not to feel anything

And consume

The blue edges of life before they get to the core and let me care

I exhale into the blue of the sky and death on the rails below

I am above the trains

I close my eyes

I collapse

And Alison screams

I open my eyes and a pigeon pecks my cheek, disgust is what it leaves with Alison between her legs

Sometimes you don’t get good

She spits out a black substance which turns into bones and heaven to achieve,


Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 10

Friday, 29 June 2012

Deviant's 3

We walk out of the bar and everything closes at six it’s not about being kicked out but more like everyone getting a last drink to moisture the throats before the first morning bus and how it will hurl you across all the rings on the roads and we don’t get kicked out instead the door lure you out and everyone stands in a line smoking watching the busses crawl with the taxis and the people awake to work on a Sunday and I look at Kessler walking back home in his heels.

People are right we are weird and we dance a fucking lot.

I look at Carlos and he smiles at me, laughs and takes me under the hand, tugging me further into the orange morning moon light as it’s our turn to wait for the bus and he sits on the pavement not on the floor and we wait for the third 2 and hop on eventually and he seems softer with all the stubble and two yawns and I press my head against his shoulder.

“You don’t like Kessler, do you?” He asks soft, smelling of alcohol and sleep and he raises my chin to kiss me and his tongue creeps in and I grope him as we stand and we fall and we get kicked out so we wait another three busses, a few hours and we get the same driver so Carlos just flips and we end up on board, passing the houses, the streets, the people and the awkward smiles and Carlos just doesn’t mention the kiss or the grope, instead we walk out, buy ice cream and push ourselves out of it on the road we walk to get back home to the dogs.

Carlos has two dogs and a rug, they both grin at you.

Deviant's 4

Thursday, 28 June 2012

I Can't Wait4

Sometimes innocence attracts you because you think that a blank paper might be good and that it won’t shatter because it’s so old in your fingers and you’d be left with nothing and the floor left with all the dust you’d want and sucking it back up in your mouth is not so good in a dusty room.

I look at Alison as we meet up and she wears a wig this time, myself with a baseball cap just for the confidentiality and it’ll be gone soon and we end up watching a shit movie in the back, both our legs pinned against the chairs in front and we start throwing popcorn towards the sky and half of it ends up in her red wig.

What if I just love her as a friend and I was a virgin when we met and she had been on top, soothing me and it was amazing and fuck, it was good it had been after quite a while when we started dating, I had told her I liked her and she smiled, we ended up being in bookstores, Alison shoving and throwing and hurling books at me and I’d ask her of books she’d know and sometimes she’d buy stuff she read before just for the feel of that I had suggested her something, so she kept buying and then we both laughed when our money had been tight and she invited me over.

“I really like you.” And she lit a cigarette, passing it towards me and I inhaled, it had been like a kiss with a kiss which followed.

I stalked her for a year before that kiss and I had made sure I danced in front of her at the school dances and that I’d stick before and after her class.

Now Mr. Hince had been her colleague at university, he was a few years older when she had met him in a bar and they had kissed, Alison claiming that both were pissed then, as she drinks more of her drink as we say that above chips and her hair is terrified along with every muscle.

She doesn’t say a lot and she looks around at the pub, leaning her head back and notices the teacher with the smile.

“Hi, Meg.” Is not what she says, instead we talk about more things we officially talk to and fuck afterwards hard, Alison ends up getting a bruise for being too rough against the wall and I’ve gotten my shoulder bit to the bone and wounded blood to heal.

I Can't Wait5

Wednesday, 27 June 2012

Definition of a Paper Crown

1. Falling and love and being in love is like a flash when your eyes are not blinded anymore, it feels like you are passing a bottle of tequila and you have the faint feeling of a celebration which you have no idea of, because you only love once and you love once and one and once

So I keep passing the tequila bottle between me and Nicky, both of us grinning, Nicky’s paper crown falling off him, the bright now red hair trickles with the fire he has in his mouth, the cigarette faintly falling off onto the pavement as he drops it and it fades, as he finnishes his smoke but my mind replays the cigarette he holds and we both stand up with all wrapped in sleep as if it were snow and if it were to snow it would snow with all the flakes falling all over and making a temple for the cigarette

Sometimes there is no love to achieve

The lights are off

And the people are off

And no one bothers to flick so I open my eyes and I stare at Nicky and his crown and memories of his cigarette.

And the bar is just as cold as the illusion with all the people sulking and staring at the surroundings with the mirrors of the top to avoid the illusion of being alone forever and holding two things in both hands, a largo and a fag makes you feel less alone along with your clothes, your ties and your belongings.

When I was a kid I’d run around naked to get the feeling of being truly alone as you are, as you come, as you die, as you consume your food and your guilt, your pleasures and Nicky makes a face in between the cracks of the mirrors, grinning so that his smile is split open with a kitchen knife as we get pub food and it feels like Winter already with no Christmas lights to cheer up and only fear of Santa’s death as if it could be over the news and the memory will stain ageless, knowing that it happened then and then and that’s it no memory of why and how we were just how we drank, ate and mixed tequila with vodka and some beer to wake up tomorrow with the sheets

like snow

to freeze in a cold’s summer night with fever grasping your throat, something like death a liquid as the lover not the lover pins you down and kisses you

that’s not what love is

that’s what a paper crown ripped on the end would be and how you rip it further

Monday, 25 June 2012

The Blunderbuss Angel said The Union is Forever 2

Your sexuality is like a slap.

A slap from everyone you’ve ever known to see who

Makes you you and well, those who match your life and who you are.

In the end I just walked in with all the confetti after running down a list of people who didn’t seem gay enough to dance in my waltz and I vomited them out, Jamie was next, I wanted to get out and here we were, all of us where I had wanted to run and be myself and I am given a coctail with a cherry and I squinge on it, so sour and I look at Hince breaking a glass bottle above his head and his shirt and I see blood pouring down.

He told me that I am beautiful when he were drunk, so I swing closer just to swing, just to grasp as he is the whirlwind of the confetti which Alison is throwing and the blood which Kate is bleeding.

Gay is who you are.

Grab your lover

Grab your lover

“Grab your lover” I yell at Jamie mimicking a song I’ve never even heard off and Jamie drops on his knees and laughs and I laugh and I’m an angel to him as he threads his hands and heels.

“You’re an angel.” And we both hesiate.

Because there is no confetti and we are broken pinatas because the society doesn’t want us, we don’t make out with seventeen year old girls, we are men in love, men who should fight and only the gays will care


when the confetti is under our pride and when the query is gay to collide with other gays

if someone beats us up

bu coming out

is what people think are mere sexual fantasies

which are not

hair coukd be it

pubic or not

but not



take it away

and the person will drown in it’s all vomit

in all it’s spit

like a halo

to drown

in an ayla

and a sun

to dance

and whirl

and dance

and whirl

and dance

and whirl

and dance

and whirl

and dance

and whirl

until loose and hold

and scream

until loose and hold

and I gasp me

him out

and the room is square for us to feel uncomofortbale and that’s it

that’s it

we smile

and dance

and whirl


to fall with no confetti in our sky

only sequins of drugs to fall upon our tongue and the lights

the lights

the light Jamie which I will give

once we are dead

the angel and the devil

and the book of Hell

written collapse


Non linear:) request please xD


The Blunderbuss Angel said The Union is Forever 3

Friday, 22 June 2012

The Blunderbuss Angel said The Union is Forever

He looks like an angel.

He actually looks like a woman.

A broken woman left with a divorce and an inner bruised lip who has intercourse on stage and never orgasms, her partner never managed to, a broken


Love is so deep in his eyes and his need, will to need and give

It’s so deep and blood stained that by the edges it starts to disappear and the desperation makes you want to look away from this angel with his body, his true adrogny which no one has and the curls which are too good to be true

and then

he starts the Blunderbuss songs which the crowd needs and he feeds.

Today is the last day you can sleep with a man or woman.

The crowd wants it, he loves the crowd, the crowd loves him back, but it doesn’t, the crowd is no one.

“Jack the crowd is no one.” I say to him, the concert still behind my eyes and my ears, I’m deaf, blind and fed to death.

I flick the lighter and I throw it up to catch the flame and never burn myself.

“The crowd doesn’t love you back, you can’t be with all of them even if you did, you wouldn’t be happy sleeping with all of them.” I tell Jack, the lighter starting to get too hot around the fire and I grab his shoulders.

He doesn’t call me Jamie he just says nothing.

Today you can sleep with a man or a woman

I don’t kiss him with my lust

I don’t

I’m dead from the gun in my mouth and the angel sees hell with the ghosts and the misfortune

I send the angel to hell to burn with me

I take my pack of cigarettes

and stuff it in his mouth

once hell choses you

you can’t do anything

and the angel is just as pale and looks like a woman and does cut like a buffalo

Jack White with no camera lenses and when he’s in front of you is the most beautiful thing on earth and when you yell that you love him and you would marry him, you mean it

because you want him and heaven

the beauty until you see a broken heart

Jack spits out the box and stands there, tall an

“You’re beautiful”

I tell him and I don’t touch him, he does

Jack does, he runs his hands through me

“Jack.” I stick the box back in and light the cigarettes sticking out and the angel stands there and the union is forever

he burns

the cigarettes burn the box burn the lips and burn the body which collapses as I stroke through the fire to see an angel burn

his body is seen through the flames

and I see his shoulders digging through the veil of death behind me and pulling me behind and kissing my neck

who said the union is forever

it is,




do burn



It is the Jamie stag party request but I'm gonna turn it into a longer story with a non linear plot I believe:)

I've seen Jack yesterday and he looks like nothing how we looks on photos and he is just well, he's the most good looking man on this planet and I've ever seen and he actually does like a woman and well, Jamie is the one who saw it with me as well in this story xD

I hope you've enjoyed it and the title was used with Blunderbuss meaning more the gun than the album and in the concert I actually kept getting bored by the Blunderbuss songs as well, well, I guess I am those White Stripes fans in the crowd

But the concert was worth it and do try to actually ever see this man alive is just gorgeous

Thank you

Feel free to request :)

Because the stag party actually didn't happen here I'm gonna post another chapter earlier today if that's ok :) and feel free to request the rest and I'll use the fact that I have some time in London left before I head back home north :)


The Blunderbuss Angel said The Union is Forever 2

Pale Blue Eyes2

I tremble because now she has a name in my head and now she can even speak and smile and I’ll recall her hairstyles even if I will mix which came first and which didn’t. So Agyness kicks me out on the street as the day ends and the night colours the streets faintly as the day still holds like a rubber and the clouds and Edinburgh is just as light as day if to think.

I smile at her and I turn around to walk back home, turning right and walking past Waterstones and the destroyed roads for the tracks and I feel bad for not stopping and talking with her and I end up turning around to see her beaten up black docs with white shoelaces mixed with yellow and her short shorts which literally reveal her legs and her buttcheeks so I stop and look, waiting for her to turn around but she doesn’t so I sit on the pavement and light a cigarette, nervous, exhaling the smoke and wondering why won’t I be among the people who tweet or take photos before they get drunk to show fake smiles on facebook, instead I sit at home and play the guitar sometimes.

I came back home and I chopped my fringe, my money running short with all the coffee I am buying from her and I chew some gum as I am not allowed to smoke for the coffee and I tell myself that the landlady doesn’t want smoke when she is a smoker herself.

Instead I despite myself and blow smoke onto the mirror, holding my mouth open, wide open and tying my hair into a messy ponytail and heading off to sleep, well, trying to.

I keep strumming my fingers, not touching the guitar to wake early tomorrow and a hand crawls to my pajama pants as I hear Jamie unlock the door as the stale smoke of alcohol and cigarettes crawl up my nose and he just walks towards my bed and falls, saying how he feels and I stroke his hair and kiss it afterwards.

Jamie sits up and I see a small hole on the sleeve of his jacket and I realize that it’s new and that it has holes all over which I can stick my fingers through so I do and I pull him on top of me, playing with the alcohol in his body and he burps in my face, laughing and then he sits up.

“Jack.” And he says nothing and takes a cigarette from my half empty box.

“Doesn’t like me.” And he makes smoke rings which he would cook for dinner and I pull the pillow over me, wondering how would it feel if I had been the one to deny instead of him and the rubs the hair together which is seen from the pillow and smiles at me slowly, smoking the cigarette, burning his fingers as he slowly opens his eyes and blows it out like a candle.


Pale Blue Eyes3

Thursday, 21 June 2012

Close 3

The morning starts from Jamie given me a half empty carton of orange juice. In bed. With cold toast as I hesitate he gets the juice back and drinks it himself and after I’m done with two bites he finishes the toast and pulls me up, he is acting sweeter with the half carton but nothing else is going on besides the fact that the morning is started by wasting pricey tickets in Waverley to get to London.

I sniff at the price and realize when you keep stealing money it’s not so hard to achieve and be back on track which they one you’ve had, you can just keep filling it up as if you’ve never even spent or stolen, well, maybe you steal from yourself.

We hesitate past the school trip to Newcastle and Jamie sulks at the rains and whenever we go under bridges and his ears ache.

The sheep seem to friendly unlike all the cows looking brown and English. I wouldn’t want to belong anywhere, that’s why american heritage or rather knowing that you came from somewhere until you poke your family history is well enough.

And I want to lie on the fields sometimes without Jamie who would blow flowers and grass on my face and then he’d come along in flannel holding a water bottle and would ask me how my day went.
Jamie closes his ears comically and tragically to him as we go under a bridge again and the squeeking sound of trains waving to each other on oposite aisles seems funny as I try to wave at people and we both are so bubbly we resemble ballons.

I stare at the golden rooster as we pass a church in England, Scotland with its green grass behind us and I am starting to feel a bit homesick unlike Jamie who lived in London and most likely wants to smoke a fag again in London.

I lived in London with him as well, but we’ve been too long to remember the places and recall the faces. And the train shakes as Jamie goes into the bathroom and I see him taking out his gun in front of the mirror and pushing it into the back of his throat some sort of low dominance from strict societies of getting dominated by a blow job, well now he’s dominated by death and he wants it.

He pulls the trigger.

And the shot goes around the seats and the faces, the people, the ghosts of the Newcastle from Edinburgh or not kiddos and I jump

And Jamie walks by, his shirt around in sweat and not blood and he carries a bag of gummi bears.
In London they take out the blooded body which to me will resemble Jamie even if he was blonde and female and Jamie had forgotten his gun back home but it wouldn’t be a problem, we’d buy,

we’d steal

we’d shoot

and Jamie would smoke his fag in an alley alone

with me in my field in my head

and then we’d get a house

get married

with a field

and children around

because maternal instinct just clicks at your age

whatever your age is

and I walk out on King’s Cross holding his hand, knowing London enough and today already.




Candy Cane3

Daniel runs a towel through my hair as I sit naked on the bathtub staring at his naked body just as wet as mine and sometimes I just see glimpses of the towel and different fragments of reality and the mise en scéne.

I look up and he notices and leans down to kiss me and push his fingers softly into the clay which is my shoulders and shape me up for another long day in bed or just strolling around London with the vintage stores with Kate’s ghost and Jamie.

I close my eyes too shut and Daniel opens his and we kiss staring for a while, I don’t stop and I keep brushing my fingers against his stubble until it stings.

“Do you want me to shave?” He smiles pushing my hair back and kissing my bleached roots.

“No. I like it.” I smile and he smiles. In the end he pulls on his bathrobe and ties me in it and we make out for a bit softly and he strokes my hips, his fingers sliding down and I stop the kiss and look at him passionately and he gently touches my clit and I throw my hands around him.

We brush our teeth both in our bath robes, a weird idea with buying the same matching odd light green and white stripes and a red and blue toothbrush with one sharing toothpaste and then we depart on the kitchen.

I don’t cook as I just sit looking at Daniel against the sun, like a sparkling silhoutte he shines as he makes food.

Jamie used to make food after I made a bad version of spaghetti and he did it afterwards, also keeping me like this, so I sulk and think of all the things there ever is to think about about love and lust and thoughts and clubs and drugs

and Jamie.

I get tea and I blow the steam off, avoiding Daniel, trembling from the past, future and present.


I'm heading off to see Jack White:D so yeah:3 excited, tired and  hwrkfhjewjfkh yeah :D but I'll still be updating and posting:3

Heading off in White Stripes colors. Haha xD


Candy Cane4

Wednesday, 20 June 2012

In the end no one really knows what to say to you.

People depress me by the end of the day no one wants to say anything to you, nothing.

I just unscrew the bottle and hand it to Nicky who get a light stare from a woman heading from a cheap pub, being cheap herself.

Her hood lifted up and she looks odd and we can see how cigarettes are a way to just to just slowly kill off the life we are handed but don’t need, a lot of us would just be happy not knowing ourselves or our existence.

It’s too dark and our bottle actually looks like water and is in a liter bottle of water with a peculiar smell.

Nicky grins as she glares.

“She needs a wank. Everyone needs a wank. Then you wouldn’t be fucking pissed at the whole fucking world and reading Cosmopolitan to have sex in fucking elevators.” And he laughs again.

We are also killing off our lives like that woman as we both lit a cigarette and start smoking it and catch briefly how the stars and the moon and the sky should look if there were not so many clouds.

I exhale.

Our lives is our curse, it’s not about God not loving us, he doesn’t exist, but it’s about giving us nothing and everything to do and our culture tells us to socialize which we don’t and then we go insane knowing that someone walked this road in the same steps, someone drank vodka in a water bottle and maybe someone smoked your cigarettes and now they recycled them.

I wish I could recycle myself and watch myself burn and die and hurl..

And vomit.

I look at Nicky.

Take another sip, think of the woman’s fanny and vomit, just like I did when I was a kid.

Maybe I should’ve came out to an ice cream van, but I did, just saying


I don’t like


Neither. Was his reply and we should’ve had sex.

I drink more after I vomit and Nicky is dazing out, fingers tight on temples.

Then I started having sex with women and it was a craving and you go mental if you don’t ejaculate, well, in a way you’re still getting waste products out.

You give your sins to a woman who judges your mate with his ring.

Or to your mate with the finger shining.

But neither of them turn you on and the clouds cover the rest so that everything will be a black hole which will never suck you in, because you rot on this land old after fainting and watching everyone ignore you, because they’re next and even if you shoot yourself with a gun

you miss.

You do.

So vomit again and take more cigarettes and do drugs to shield the mind and

I look.


I'm feeling better but now I've got lots of stuff to do so when I come back I just fall asleep, but I'll catch up whenever I can and thank you for waiting patiently and thank you


Definition of a Paper Crown

Monday, 18 June 2012

Broken Black Varnish Requiem

I try opening the nail varnish bottle with my teeth already as Alex sits on one of the boxes which build up a shrine and the television is on with numerous ads telling us what to buy and how to look at what to watch.

He puts his hand on the back of my head and as soon as my teeth fail to open the bottle his lips meet mine and we stop briefly.

The bottle falls on the carpet and makes a noise and I just grab Alex further onto me.

“Hey.” He kisses my forehead again and we both sit up.

Alex ends up turning off the lights and I don’t say anything and I sit against the wall and he crawls over to me.

“Strawberries?” He asks me and I nod, kissing his neck briefly and he smiles crawling down and kissing my waist before standing up.

Alex fixes his shirt and I feel him being embarrassed and we both are with us moving into a house in another part which we both never lived and Alex knocked a few shelves of milk down yesterday in the local grocery store and ruined his beaten up Converse even more which I’ve been using as slippers today and he just walked around the house.

I see his lips tremble as I watch him swirl the strawberries in the bowl and then he takes them out.

“Hey! Not yet.” I do the rest for him and he just presses his head against my neck as we look onto the autumn garden, wondering how many snowflakes will fall, how the birds will crawl in the morning as we’ll smoke outside and I suggest painting my nails black outside until winter will come again next year and we’ll grow old someday laughing, knowing what awaits and which mistakes we’ve always done.

Alex smokes as I break the black nail varnish and the wind does a pattern on it with the grass and we share the cigarette to walk back home and crawl into bed and we get food poisoning anyway the next morning as we wake and run towards the bathroom to enjoy the rest of our tapes and venues to join in.


I actually just got food poisoning from strawberries yesterday, so inspiring, never going to wash anything by myself again -.- I'm useless when it comes to food, so yeah XD

And while I had been doing stickers on my nails the idea of the black nail varnish came along and the cheesiness from cheesiness really:3 Yeah, sometimes I don't need the bus xD Initially I had an another idea but used the later one instead:3

I hope you really enjoyed it as I did:3 yeah all the happy stories are with Alex XD

Thank you:3


Broken Black Varnish Requiem 2

Saturday, 16 June 2012

Let's Dance or Flip

I sit and I start devouring my nails not due to the hunger but the lack of plain outside and the rain strums harder and Faris just wobbles slightly.

“Why the fuck are we even waiting here?” He smirks and I light a cigarette at which Faris wants to say something but in the end closes his eyes, head and leans back, his bright flowery shirt unbuttoning and the collar a bit ripped on the end. Rhys had pointed him that out earlier but he said he’d fix it and he asked for a needle and thread but I had none and Rhys had left with the idea, leaving me to stop smoking as I finnish the cigarette and hold the butt in my hand, pulling my bottom lip.

I look at the clock which is above the door to know where you exit to and I see that it’s taking too long for the pizza to arrive.

I suggest Faris a cigarette and he says nothing and I switch to his side and watch him fake his sleep and I press myself against his shoulder, my cigarette burning in my lips tight to show how fake we are until the bell rings and Faris pats my head up and I finnish the half done cigarette.


I got a The Horrors request without any specific pairing and I ended up settling on Joshua and Faris:3 so yeah:D

Feel free to request :) even if I'm quite behind xD I'm still catching up though:O sort of xD well one story at a day still:3

Thank you!


Friday, 15 June 2012


And Kate walks in a gold coat, shaking a bit and she takes it off, she leans against the kitchen cupboard and I think I hear Lila upstairs, but it might just be the ghost of maternity knocking on my door and she takes off her heels, her shirt and pulls her nipples, slowly dipping her hand inside her jeans as she unzips them and her toenails are dyed red and her hands stroke herself as she looks up over me and Jamie, to something holy, something to pray for and stops for a while, gasping and she takes out her wet hand, a web between her fingers and she traces it on her lips, starts licking and glances at me.

She wants me.

I stand up and grab her jeans down, her thong down and I put her on the stove, pushing her back, her feet strangling my neck and Jamie takes off my pants.

He’s scared to touch me, his touch is cold and he touches Kate instead.

“Fuck her.” Kate gasps as Jamie takes off my underwear, stroking my back door and I glance at him and nod, as he slips a condom.

It pings slightly but then I see Kate and we all dig in.

Jamie inside me as Kate thrusts in my mouth and it aches in the beginning but nothing compares to having a woman in your mouth and I keep stroking her theighs, moaning myself, near from her only smell, her screams and how she pulls my hair, then Jamie comes inside me and pulls out, kissing my back and collapses.

I pull her clit and she screams, her fluids now covering everything and she shakes, pulling my hair harder as I thrust my tongue inside her, deeper and deeper, thrusting and Kate pushes my head harder, my neck aching and I start touching myself and soon Jamie places his mouth on me, stroking my stomach and once his tongue is in I scream and Kate comes, we all do.

Jamie I believe was touching himself, the condom off and then, Kate pulls me by the hair to her face and I just keep gasping as she kisses me with passion and pulls me on the stove and starts moving underneath me.

I keep gasping.



“KATE.” She moves fast, holding my hips so hard and tense, pulling my lips, her nipples digging into my own, as I keep sucking on her tongue, rubbing as we both stop and she puts her legs around me.

“Nice to have some girl action.” She smirks and I start thrusting, spreading her legs so that they seem to ache but me and Kate are too turned on and I pull her towards me as our tongues rub in midair as I hold her legs, thrusting hard, I’m dripping wet now as Kate is just moaning, sweating, desperate for an orgasm and I lean down to kiss her nipple and she comes and the image

makes me near

and I grab her and bang her against the wall, my hips hard against hers and it aches


and we’re more wet

and we keep thrusting



for quoting Kate girl action and we keep doing it, we keep having sex, I keep kissing her legs as we are nearly done

and then she throws herself on me

and gasps

I gasp

and I collapse on the side with Kate’s legs tangled into mine.


Thursday, 14 June 2012

Deviant's 2

“Who do you like?” Carlos asks me with his coke with some alcohol and I get a Bacardi with coke.

I look at him and he looks at me and he smiles and I don’t.

The contact is broken and we both get blue straws to drink from as the lights are off and I feel hands all over my face and I see a dim light with faces, tongues and teeth over Carlos.

The lights are on and there is no one and everything is a stage and for an explicit second there are images of seagulls and feathers and their legs falling down with guitar strings broken down into confetti and one cuts my eyes and I blink it off.

“Daniel Kessler.” I say fast, it’s more of a time of your life when you have no one in it and you settle with a person you speak.

Then I see Daniel in a bodysuit with a boa pace around everywhere, everywhere being the stage as I say Daniel just to say and Carlos just looks at me and ignores the lipstick traces Daniel leaves him.

I want to leave but I don’t, feather boas clasping my back and clawing me back in, so Carlos just sits there as I am leaned back, Daniel laughing with no sound, mouth open wide and a face mark drawn as if he were Marilyn Monroe and he throws the feather boa over us to imitate a kiss and I imagine his black heels as the feathers go over my eyes as go away as tears and Carlos chews his straw.

The show is over, ladies.


With the traces and the man, the man to go onboard, yet he stays.

A microphone is nowhere, just Daniel and his heels and my broken Bacardi on the floor.

Carlos has whisky.

He doesn’t ask me to dance, Kessler does, taking me in a waltz in my chair and I want to vomit as a mirror is in front of me to imitate a man’s room with poker cards sliding from all directions.

I am the stage and I am given a hat to laugh at.

A nightmare to be, as I hold the cards and spill them, exposing all the aces and sevens and nines and thirteens drawn with ball pens.

All the influences of the night.

My broken Bacardi with Carlos’ whisky.

Make it stop.

Make me the stage.

Daniel pours the Bacardi from the floor onto the ceiling, as the glass runs through my hair and the club opens for the rest.

Deviant's 3

Tuesday, 12 June 2012

The Circle

I stand in front of Jamie’s mirror and I look at my reflection among his new anti wrinkle creams and Kate’s presence. I want to rub the lipstick further so that it would stick there so that I wouldn’t have to apply it all over and I want to do bigger lips as I look at my orange hair.

I’m bleaching my hair to blonde.

Jamie likes blondes.

My lipstick is going further sinking into my body, making my lips bruised and red.

I am thirty three at the peak of life end.

I might die like Jesus, I might have the middle just like Dante says.

I have no one.

The man who said he married me married another blonde yet again.

I feel cheated and I feel the lack of sex and desire in my body as it’s so strong that I don’t notice it.

Jamie’s creams are taking half just like Kate’s.

I look at Kate’s again and I want to flush them all down the toilet, cause a flood, but I won’t, instead Jamie knocks on the door and walks in and I am done, as I look what has been done to my eyebrows.

I am an insane desperate woman.

I am a woman.

I need to be loved by my man.

“You said we’d get married.” I tell him among these creams as I’ve known him long years I’ve known him my age.

Jamie doesn’t say anything, but most likely he loves Kate, so he turns around the closes the door.

I want to cry, but I don’t and I exit the shrine to make you look like Lenin in the mausoleum all those cremes and with my nearly blonde reflection and we exit onto the streets of London and we drive in silence, as I open the window and I see the stores closing and how the customers shift to drinkers and I have a scarf to hold onto and a Jamie to lose.

I look at him and we feel like a married couple, only my lover is not my lover, he doesn’t run a hand up my leg, he doesn’t touch me and he loves another woman.

“How are you, Alison?” He asks me. “What’s with the pink you’ve worn?”

I glare at him softly, looking at the deep green I want to be married to, women go insane, men brake things, I can do the same.

“Trying to be like your wife, since you like those women.” I should’ve said, but I don’t, instead I just shrug and he puts his hand on my shoulder, I don’t kiss it, the only thing my lips ever say is

“You said we’d get married.”

And Jamie stops the car at green which fades into red with all the car horns and we drive.

We exit the car, we walk past the parks and the squirrels, holding the fags in our mouths, making sure not to drop them anywhere to burn the things.

“You said we’d get married.” Is echoing in his head, I hope.

We walk into the arena, the hall and it’s chilly, our coats are on and we need the feel of nicotine and I look into his mouth, he should taste of smoke, but he doesn’t or he does, instead I just smile.

I won’t ever say anything.

I am going to die anyway.

I am going to be thirty four with smaller eyebrows, blonde hair and no lover.

And then I see Daniel Kessler.

And I see lights on me and Jamie.

It’s not so cold and the illusion of being whole when you jump with people comes, but the gap between me and Jamie is there.

I wave for no reason at Paul, but they don’t wave back they just pour their soul as usual and I look at Daniel’s choice of clothing and how he judges Paul’s in his head and how the strings go and how I lean my head back.

I grab Jamie’s wrist and hold it, my head back, let this all be a dream, where I am blonde, skinny enough, no breasts,

let me be a model, let me be Kate Moss and less smart, let me be Jamie’s, I say that into the crowd and the music takes it, making me feel as if I am the universe, infinite, everything, nothing and I look at Jamie.

He’s not me.

He’s not part of my universe.

The stage is my lover who cheats with all these people who play, but I love them.

I am the stage. I am the stage you jump on Jamie Hince.

I am the one you will never love

And my eyes are closed

And I take my hands away

To fall down and be underneath the crowd

I never see

Due to the blinding lights

Which you won’t give

But I will

So that one day

You will change me

To Kate

And we’d get married one day


And I think my health is now better or I'm abusing it by writing XD either way I am slowly coming back and I dunno how or when will I catch up so I think the best thing is to keep checking the list to see how far away I am from the desired request :3

I intended a happier ending I swear XD I guess if anyone is interested I can change it into a longer story:3 request if needed :D

thank you:3


Broken Black Varnish Requiem

Wednesday, 6 June 2012

Pale Blue Eyes

Pale blue eyes and I stand in the line, pulling my hair away from my face as I see the young girl give different caffeine drinks to people and saying the same phrases about the summer offers even if today is too cold even for a hot drink and I don’t unzip my clothing and I just wait in line, sometimes glancing at her short hair and wondering if she would say anything for my third small latte and instead I take two caramel waffles together in a plastic bag and I smile at her.

She won’t say anything.

I still smile and I say my name and I expect her to write on the waffles but she doesn’t.

Instead I click my nails.

“Yeah and coffee.” And the blonde girl laughs, shrugs and puts my name on the plastic cup.

“Anything else?” She asks and I smile.

“No.” And I walk away, not saying anything, neither does she.

I drink the coffee in front of her, wanting to puke though.

The next time I see her, the barista’s hair is black and she is sucking on a peppermint lollypop, lazily sitting on the counter and it’s early morning and I say hi to her and she jumps off getting the coffee for me and I sit for an hour staring at her throw the lollypop stick and her hair in her eyes and how it covers her face and I still see her sucking her treat as I keep drinking my coffee.

We both don’t say anything as it’s time for me to leave for work and I stand up the next day now her hair is a bit shorter and she smiles at me.

Eyes on me and I just tremble lightly.

It’s too early for other workers and the possibility of actually coming out to someone else who is not in your mirror seems odd, so we both smile and this time we both drink our coffees on the counter.

“How long do you come here?” She asks now her head shaved.

“A year.” The question obviously about my crush on her, so I just drink my coffee.

The barista smiles.

“What’s your name?” I ask her when her hair is short and blonde again.

“Agyness.” She smiles.

“Oh.” I smile back.

Pale Blue Eyes2


The fact that I see a river in a place with no rivers and where seagulls look tender on the neon green grass as it rains seems odd and how pubs are now empty and those without names can be walked in and pints can be ordered and you can even smoke besides the window thinking that you’re in a cafe and look at the street and the cars and the buses riding like it is every Monday and my scarf is way too warm because Meg put it on me before I left and I just stared. Meg stared too.

And I left.

To sit near the river where I scared the crowd.

Of three people myself included.

That I saw a river in a city I live, that the river had built overnight and no seagulls were near instead they devoured the trains on the train station and Meg would feed them overnight, maybe thats where the rivers form and where the seagulls drown as I smoke my  cigarette leftovers lighting them with a spare match as they walk, a crowd, past my window and I see and I think of Meg and her lips and all long haired women play with my heart and all the people walk fast and guilty in the aisles of the supermarket as the workers flirt with the lights above the yoghurts and no food is taken until all is off and I scream.

I don’t.

Neither does Meg.

She just wakes me drunk on the bar where the rivers are, where the crossroads of water are and all the paths lead with the stupid posters of people who talk about drugs and not this part of town with all to consume and kill kill kill with a shotgun to blow from the hand.

If I’d be a tourist I’d buy a wristband with an I heart this place tomorrow.

To shoot more and more birds and seagulls.

Seagulls because they are my favourite birds.


I was springing the locations through my mind although the pub I walked past it today with a few phrases. It's a holiday so i ended up just walking around under the rain too stereotypical xD well, headed out for groceries so yeah. What I do ends up drifting to stories actually so yeah XD

I hope you enjoyed it and thank you


The Blunderbuss Angel said The Union is Forever

Tuesday, 5 June 2012

Sing To The Numb, To All Of Us

I take off my socks and I still feel the heat before the cold actually hit my feet but that moment of bliss lasts as I put the kettle on and I take off my glasses to see the blur give me a sense of morning and the numb worry to be my blanket as my hands don’t shake yet I make toast and I hear faint music from the neighbors or maybe it is the back of my head.

I think about my son for a while not looking out the window and I make myself tea and I don’t burn myself like last time, the numb part of the life when you just stand without socks just stretches out and I sit on the floor now and then I lay down maybe to feel death for a bit and then to stand up and feel the eat actually being cold and I don’t decide to burn my food instead I order something without knowing and I wait on the floor.

There is no meaning to open the door or not.

I just pay and eat on the floor, laying, smiling to nothing, maybe death to see.

I stand up and drink the cold tea.

Monday, 4 June 2012


Maybe we’ve held the tension too long that it exploded and we both just sit there staring at nothing, Jamie even looks down and I see him exhale a few times and shake.

“I’m sorry.” And he breaks down crying and I just stare at him, realizing how odd everything is.

I take his hand and hold it as I pull my chair closer to his and I light each one of us a cigarette.

I kiss his lips briefly and he kisses back.

“I love you.” He says.

“Same.” And now the exhale comes from both. Maybe love is indeed above making love and most likely we’ll forget this and I stare at the fridge with the random magnets Kate hangs from tea and yoghurts which Lila Grace eats and she seems even a bit too average and then he exhales.

“I don’t know what to do.” He says.

“Neither.” And there is even no silence.

There is sound all over, realization.

I get out of the kitchen for a while and I head into the bathroom, feeling Kate’s aroma all over as I see her standing here naked, maybe getting ready for intercourse, how her fingers tremble and she corrects her lipstick.

I’ve never even liked women like Kate and I lock the door, sliding down, seeing Kate touch herself lightly before getting out to the bedroom to an erect Jamie, which I couldn’t achieve and I see her laugh and her blonde hair. I keep smoking and I wonder if she still does cocaine but it’s been taboo for us all to mention, even if I’ve asked Peter when she tried to get us both together.

I open a drawer and I see a few bottles of nail varnish, even if she always has french manicure mostly and I choose a plain unopened melon one. I open the seal, get some removal, a pad and I head back to see Jamie gone and after a while he comes back.

He has a new cigarette and he blows a smoke ring into my face and laughs.

“I love you.” And he strokes my hair.

Love is too much for actions, love is enough not to touch and I feel his fingers touch my brow as I remove the varnish and apply melon onto mine.

“Can I try?” And I smudge his nails twice but when Kate comes back, we turn around and we are both melons.


Sunday, 3 June 2012


The seagull crosses the road.

The seagull actually goes back and stands in the middle.

It’s odd how cities get seagulls so I stop and stare at it and eventually it notices me and backs off, reacting to myself rather than the cars which went past.

“Paul.” And I turn around to see Carlos.

And he lights his cigarette with a match and hurls the thing away and I watch him take some drags and eventually I take out my own box and take one out, pulling it with my teeth.

Carlos grabs me by the collar and pulls me into the club behind him, slowly as the door closes and confetti starts falling and people with strippers emerge laughing, wine, coffee and champagne are spilt and we take a table and he smokes and I’ve lost my cigarette and my silver lighter on the way.

“How you’ve been?” Carlos asks me, his hair a bit curly and his clothes new, a new gray blazer and his fork is in his left hand as he eats some chicken he gets with his taken silence and I lean back to feel the soft chair.

“Not bad.” I close my eyes not to snap and Carlos keeps eating his chicken and offers me some as my mouth gets opened and he gives me a piece.

I open my eyes to see him smirk as he taps some tune to the pop music in the speakers, smiling, giving me another piece with more white sauce and piercing my lip with the fork so that now the chicken is bloody and he eats it looking as the colours mix behind.


The idea came from seeing a seagull as I headed out and well, I see seagulls a lot, but I still love them to much to go all squiggly XD about seeing them, so yeah

I hope you enjoyed it

Thank you

Deviant's  2

Saturday, 2 June 2012

Before The Stripes

You sit during dinner staring at mashed potatoes, well, I sit during dinner with the table wide yet with all the people it seems narrow and everything is passed across, butter, salt, pepper and I sit there waiting, knowing that everything they pass and spill is for me to clean and now that my brother cooks dinner to train himself, being a chef, my days to clean everything drop in closer and I just sit there ever since I’ve been six and I’ve been given the task with a chair to stand on after I feel down and got a shard on my ear.

I end up drinking some home made apple juice by one of my sisters.

And I play with the mashed potatoes hearing the fork against the plate.


I look up and I pass Leo the salt.

It feels too comfy and the wallpaper is old and I’d be among the people who would make a fuss if it would be torn down.

I end up heading back up into one of the room with no one sleeping on the second bed and I crawl under the covers with the vinyls missing from the shelves back at mine’s and how my old childhood room seems wider than my own and how dull the shared room is.

Eventually I fall asleep to wake up to cigarette smoke and I fall back asleep.

In the morning I leave with a bundle of food and I get back home to get the guitar strum a bit and I do something which every human yearns to do every once in a while, because life is too boring and your, mine, my fingers end up aching by the end of the day and sometimes life is too long so we chop it, I chop it by drinking.

I like getting drunk how daft the world looks and how it’s a trip and you never know how will this reality show end and you laugh instead of cry most of the time, because no one ever wants to be a sad drunk unless you’ve been dumped by a girl, so I go alone after eating the mashed potatoes for breakfast just looking through the few vinyls I’ve bought in the past months from a guy who apparently chewed on the sleeves and spat them out and never touched the vinyls themselves.

“Beer.” I say, not being original and a girl pours me beer, her hair down and she smiles, charging me and taking a small peppermint candy from her pocket and serving more people booze and selling the tickets for the lottery, the free ride, baby.

I buy three more beers and I get three more smiles.

I look at her.

Her dark eyes and how her hair is and the red t-shirt she has on with the white skirt and I think of how she can easily spill anything on it and I stand up to go on the dance floor and back, just to stand among the vibe, easy to blame on the alcohol and then more beer comes as I sip it slower looking at the television with the forecast and then the sappy television shows as she watches them.

And I just watch her with my drinks, her being more vivid with beer as I ask for more and leave home not to wash my dishes but to droll over my pillow and oversleep a saturday for more beer and wake up with someone banging on my door due to my vinyl on, might’ve been when I’ve been awake before going back.

Drunk is such an excuse even when you’re in hangover mode, baby.


I've been requested how Jack and Meg met and their first kiss and how they said I love you:3 In the end it would be better as a novel rather than a one shot and well, I hope you've enjoyed it and I guess request away and thank you


Before The Stripes2

Friday, 1 June 2012

Ache Head

Sometimes you have a headache before you go onstage and it doesn’t go away until the end and I don’t feel my voice or my lips and people just stare and I just keep my glasses close.

People say it’s the best performance but I’ve seen myself nearly drop the guitar twice and the screaming sounded like me once and it had been the pain back into the arm and I see myself with flu the next day and people just stare

I hate small venues

My voice breaks breaks

And it collapses as I see myself on the stage and Daniel pouring water on me and I stand up

Nothing happens

The song just ends with the water in my hand as I sip and put it back

To come back to another song

With no headache

This time with clenched teeth and the glasses loose

And fingers wobble, the song ends up being so long

Collapse please

All of you

Stop staring and giving me my headache back

Sometimes you just get paranoia and the thoughts just whirl even if you sing and the lyrics are like a tattoo, sting, itch and are seen even on mute

Maybe it’s not me and I’m on the floor

More water at the end and I collapse

I don’t



Which leaves you with fingers against your mouth


Please end Please end

Let me vomit in my own stage

With fear

I take off my glasses for a greater blur and I repeat the lines

Done sometimes

Last notes


Pull the string



Blood upon my fingers

No blood

And the string is intact