Friday, 30 November 2012

drive to recast

They had slapped the door in my face.

I think after a while they had realized with all my three brothers they had enough grandchildren and I’d be the naked branch for them.

They had let me in a year later.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been this old.

It felt old.

It had been just a few exchanges and money from them for college, my music hadn’t given me anything yet and the way I coloured with crayons wasn’t too bright.

I want to colour my life in crayons.

I started growing gray, I had laughed more dull.

I had wondered if I had cancer, reading all the leaflets when I was at my GPs and Prince Street should’ve been lit.

I remember wondering how would it be living in Gorgie with Domino’s on the first floor and I wondered how would it be with pizza away so near, would it be like the ocean? I haven’t really gone anywhere besides seeing it from a distance and never holding a map in my hand.

There is nothing to control, just grasp as I had grown older, failing and just going on, making now my own money, the instrument between my legs as I’d eye the people and hold the bow.

It’s a feeling of dismay as we will never be accepted and the table is filled soon enough with children and I just have nothing, too numb for drinks and the crayons all broken with all the paranoia.

My neighboor also plays the cello and she has her hair up and dyed blonde.

We don’t have a Domino’s downstairs and she looks better than I do in her capes with no sleeves and she looks a bit chubby which is funny to how skinny I am these days.

I had my hair cut again at a barbers with men eyeing me for a bit as I had tried to find my credit card emptying my wallet with my driver’s license.

“Cathy.” I heard the woman call me, as she eyed my license and I payed for my cut.

I left, having oral fixation but no desire for cigarettes, just the movements, lighting and exhaling and I pulled my collar up, my fingers playing with my pockets as I wandered to see how Christmas would tackle my city.


I guess I want to go back to something dark and I was trying to find a title through watching different bits of Mulholland Drive.

I'm ill so yeah, a small piece of writing while I'm sleeping.

Feel free to request, Kathy would love it. S'nice to see my characters in my head XD Ok, bed.


drive to recast2

Monday, 26 November 2012

Pale Blue Eyes3

It’s awkward with a bra fitting, feeling that you have no boobs. I feel that and I swallow every time the woman touches my chest to see if they fit and the way she looks at me, people keep complaining that women are bombarded with sexual images, we are and she looks at me as I change and my nipples are too small, it starts being too awkward like when you walk on George street at night and all the women feel naked and you just instantly feel wet down and you’d rip their clothes off, it’s a mental note to all

let’s fuck

and sometimes I don’t want to fuck everyone, actually I don’t want to fuck everyone, well, every woman.

Maybe I should stand in front of a mirror like I did when I was thirteen before I became scared I remember jumping up and down in my Converse before I stopped and said to myself and the me in the mirror who became more pale and how butch I had looked then

“I’m a lesbian, Alison is a lesbian”

And I started jumping again and I left home for a while to ask a girl for a fag and she lit it for me and we just stood there, once you’re out you know who is a lesbian and not, you’re proud and you know who likes vaginas as much as you do and she had been taller, maybe my age and I looked at her skirt and I wanted to lift it up, push my fingers inside her and make out with her, I ended up nearly burning my lips off and I just kept staring at her with those rings

Fuck me

I went back home and I stood in front of the same mirror, pressing my forehead against the cool reflection of a beautiful woman wanking, I looked at my fingers stroking myself in the reflection and I kept thinking that it would be another woman and I pressed myself harder, touching my entrance, thrusting, moaning hard, rubbing my breasts or what I had of them harder and harder, I was losing my balance and I started thinking of a girl on her knees and how I press my juices against her mouth and how good it feels with her tongue


And then she pushes me on the floor

“I like girls” and that gets me near with her pale blue eyes

and she presses her clit against me

and I scream


rant that I want more

And by the end I stand up alone, mirror having a stream of liquid and the rug smelling of my lost desire and my hair a mess

I knew I was a lesbian when I was thirteen
and old

before the hammer of homophobia struck my jaw and made me lose a few teeth

Sunday, 25 November 2012

There Is Something About Jack White 3

I remember how I met Jack White it had been when and I guess I still do call him sometimes Jack White in my mind because it sounds nicer, I had known him as John for a brief period, just briefly, when he had introduced himself muttering John and sipping his coke anxiously, something on his mind and we both shifted in the queue for chips.

I had met him when I had just had about the first girlfriend which had black hair to a side and I think I had just dated her because the word lesbian would be only applied to er on the only women I knew. Jamie had invited her and we ended up talking as she closed her eyes and muttering the ice clinging against the walls of the glass about her girlfriend. It had been exciting to touch and I guess it had been in the end all about just having a girl rather than anything else.

So we just stood in the queue, Jack biting the straw, hands in pockets, glasses on him and I was infront with Jamie speaking something into his mobile, biting his lip to blood and I had turned around and started talking to Jack about what would he have, it had been a bit too normal to talk to him even if at that point it had been just gibberish about ketchup versus mayo and that I was a vegan so he had to expect me just to eat the chips and he got himself a beef burger. In the end I would quickly steal a bite when we started dating but that was later when I would have his glasses on and he had a few rings scattered on his fingers and looking further to something else.

The girl had asked me about how had it been to meet Jack White and I just shugged as she stood in an apron and a stripy dress, Jamie sitting on the sofa rereading Kerouac and sometimes quoting aloud and we would all just nod and maybe clap our hands, laugh and go back to try and mix the mojito the girl was doing. By the end of our dating I was the one who ended up dying her hair blonde, leaning her hair back and seeing that her black roots wouldn’t fade and I keep seeing that even if I meet her now her roots would still be a bit darker but instead she goes maroon now with another girl with blonde hair and big teeth.

I met Jack after I had finished with the girl with him poking the ad for some new recipe in Friday’s and we both took nachos.

“Jamie said you were a lesbian.” I was expecting a smirk but instead he ordered and I just watched my fingers pointing exactly at the food I wanted to see in my mouth soon as we both took nachos, we ate the nachos in silence and I recall him wearing a red shirt with jeans, legs crossed and he always looked ahead besides when he looked at me and smiled.

“Yeah.” I said as if just a minute had passed and I brushed my hair with my fingers hastly, quickly managing to try and bite half a finger as well. “Just broke up.”

“Oh.” Jack said quickly lifting himself up and waving to some redheaded woman and fell down again, sighting, exhausted and putting his arms around his eyes as if he were expecting to fall asleep and that his chair would turn into a bed, it didn’t.

“Last nacho?” White asked still looking at the woman, I expected it to be a former lover because everyone is. Jack looked at me and my shifting and forced laughter at some ballon going up and popping.

“S’fine. I’d fuck Jamie.” He ate the last nacho and I just smiled, looking down, wondering if I had ordered the right thing. I poked the table with the fork, feeling uneasy from people trying to find an excuse to say to my sexuality.

“Sorry.” He coughed, gulping down the coke and it felt like an old high school date, only I’d give him a bowtie, for a brief second I felt disgust but I gulped it down, looking at him sigh and the abyss of silence between us between the wonder where all the food had gone.

I had ended up meeting Jamie and eaten an apple on the couch, most likely my food had arrived then as I left before the main course.


I've written it back a few months ago all together, so yeah:D I hope you're enjoying it so far and I love the story well, yeah, as it takes a different turn from what I was writing usually, now everything is a pussy fest XD

Feel free to request:3


There Is Something About Jack White 4

Wednesday, 21 November 2012

Before The Stripes2

I stayed at my parents for a few more nights as I had a hungover. I think I ending getting a bug and I just recall as if like a scene from a movie people would put mashed potatoes in front of me.

I remember when I just moved in my flat, mom told me to buy loads of potatoes that they are cheap and that you can do anything with them.

I guess we were having a rough time. I try to avoid buying potatoes for my home, before dinner I headed out and I met up with Brian and he lent me a cigarette as I tried to save up my own and I had spend too much money on booze. The point of booze was, you end up screwing too much money on it, true, it drains your memory and the cheaper the faster it will get to your head even with a shot. I’ve seen some even get just one shot, get enough pissed and sting onto someone else and get a second and so on.

Or just mix two things too quickly.

Brian just kept talking and I just watched as we walked on the street and I looked how night coloured the day and how the lights would go on and how some women would undress themselves for the men or maybe even women, some things had been whispered to me in school.

We went into the bar and I ended up drinking from Brian’s beer and then he had drank from my own and I looked at the bar girl with her hair in two ponytails and I found myself looking at her skirt.

I ended up winking at her and she just interpretated it as another drink and this one would be me and Brian sharing the alcohol along with the price.

I went into the bathroom and I wanted to scream.

I ended up vomiting, I might have had tempearture and after a while, I headed out, waving to the girl, having nothing in my mind but I had made it to my apartment with unmade chairs and after a very long rest I made a few chairs and fixed old to see the sun rip through the curtains which were stained.

I went to wash my face and I had falled asleep on the toilet, humming something.

The next week my mother had taken me to a doctor.


I'll be honest this took me quite a while to figure out what to write, as I've been writing more and more fiction and yeah. I was really thinking where I want to go with this and I don't think I want it too long as it's getting a bit troublesome, but I quite love it, so yeah xD

Feel free to request

Thank you


Wednesday, 14 November 2012



Through out our life, due to media, due to influence, due to many things we get the wrong opinions.

We fuck up.

I grew up in homophobic and transphobic places, I've said things I regret deeply.

Genitalium is one of those.

I kept it throughout the years without revision and it was my mistake and it was obviously a widely read story and remained as one of my most-read.

Now it's finally gone. I didn't even know how to continue it for years actually. Because it has no ending, because the ending is in every fucking cissexist/transphobic female out there.

Thank fuck and bye, Genitalium.

Maybe one day I'll be pissed off enough and take some transman story I'm writing and place it here as a proper spin-off of the disaster that once was, who knows, that will tick off those who sent me death threats.

In the mean-time, here's some actual great trans romance:

Stale Smoke In A Running Circle
Joyce, Joyce
An Ode
Sultry Room
PDD or Hypoxyphilia

Monday, 12 November 2012

Used Lighter6

Alison comes back and it’s winter all over again and I see Alexander smoking on the window sill as he watches her and how she puts some mail through him and he looks at her sighting, his hand trying to lift her chin up and he drops it to just walk through the walls.

We drink tea just to heat up in an apartment with barely any windows and I expose my breath expecting to see smoke from my mouth and Alison sits still in her coat, the wet snow covering her hair and hood and she crosses her legs.

I smile at her and we both take hands.

“I went to church.” She says and pokes her right fang as she opens her mouth and I wonder if we should actually still keep brushing our teeth and how many of our habits are left for us to live with since we cannot die and I recall how me and Alison went to a skating ring, laughing and actually managing to skate fast and trip on each other just to walk back home and glance at our store closed due to the late time.

“I thought the church had been closed for both of us.” I swallow and she just shakes her head.

“No. The church should be open for everyone, I also had the thought and I hadn’t been in it for years.” Alison fixes her hair, a strand back and the rest in the front, eyes shaking. “I mean there is so many things the church says not to do that you don’t even feel welcome, you just feel everyone judging you as if that’s it, there’s no way back. You’re dead, you’re in hell, you’re suicidal, you’re homosexual, God doesn’t want you. But what if there is no God? What if God still created vampires..I don’t know.”

And Alison closes her eyes and I stare at her for a straight hour not knowing my own reaction to the church besides staring at the renewed monument from afar with her wondering if it were from the same stone which Alexander might’ve used and I could see him immersing from it, like slime and dragging me into a fast dance, him dancing backwards, the ultra dead and he is pulling me faster and faster into the fire I don’t burn and into the needles which do not hit the heart, the shards of broken crosses which just make my eyes ache.

Alexander comes to me dressed as a priest, teeth armored with grief and he pours hot water both over me and Alison.

“Welcome to Christnening.” And Alison stares at the nothing she doesn’t see as our bedcovers dry instantly but the heat is kept.

She lurches and stops, holding her hand with her throat.

I see Alexander holding a big cross above his head and then slamming it into the floor into the hole he falls as it mends itself up and I start screaming as if he is pulling my mouth with his fingers from behind and I see my eyes turn round to see myself kissing Alison, a married couple, us under the veil and her tongue sharp going into my nose and I open my eyes to see the fingers stretching my mouth until it cracks and Alexander is with the bat again slamming me on the head this time for a dream.


It's weird with the fact that a lot of stuff that has been in the queue was written before and this would be one of it. I forgot that I had written it along with the previous chapter perhaps even on the same day, so yeah:3 I barely remember what I've written which is weird. Callie pokes me sometimes about some part which was good and I can't remember XD neither do I draft so yeah XD

Basically feel free to request


Sunday, 11 November 2012


I end up getting beer as it tastes odd, I take off my hat for a second and I light a cigarette, waiting for Alison to stumble, instead she gets an empty table and starts smoking smoke rings. I wonder when does Jack come in and sweap her and how will the kiss last on her lips, if it will slip away.

In the end I see Alison picking up her mobile and dialing something, talking, laughing, eyes closed, no difference sober or drunk.

The beer tastes odd and I just felt like taking some in a cheap bar she had chosen and something which didn’t require us to count money in our head but instead point at all the drinks and get cheap combinations.

I guess that’s how beer should taste.

I can’t stop staring at her.

I think she notices me but I just drink the beer, so I should get going, but I don’t know what would happen, so I light another cigarette and Jack ends up showing up.

He pats my shoulder.

“Oi, why you leaving Alison alone?” He’s like a little devil, as if the elections are now upon us and he tilts my shoulder and yanks me with him pulling me towards him and Alison.

I end up sipping my beer, not even saying hello.

“Oh, I was trying to reach you.” Alison giggles and kisses me on the cheek, harder and she looks drunk while Jack seems sober and quite stiff before he feels more comfortable and relaxes into the sofa.

The question doesn’t rise why am I here, Jack in the end leaves us for the bathroom and Alison lies on the table and I shift my hand digging into her hair.

“How much did you drink?” I ask her swiftly, pulling her up to see her arrows smudged and she just grins, eyes closed, maybe in some drunken slumber when you’re still real.

“Eeenough.” She grins.

Jack comes back.

I should get them both back. I could carry her, it’s a weird emotion to just grab and swing through with the baby in your arms, we give children the innonce we lack, but the child is the son of a man, a quote I won’t recall who shall it be from.

In the end both me and Jack part in silence before the hotel.

Jack knows I’m jealous but pulls me out of the room and I stand there, hoping to get back to London.

The door is shut anyway, as much as I am open to Alison, so is she.


Monday, 5 November 2012

Stale Smoke In A Running Circle7

I just stared at Jamie for a longer while as Thom and Alex ended up playing scrabble, Alex smiling at me, inviting me over but instead me and Jamie ended up heading out and buying some beer, a weird choice for us instead of cheap wine, but on the way Jamie stopped.

“I might be gay.”

And then he just looked down.

“Look, he’s not the first guy.” He swallowed. “Remember Peter?”

Jamie raised his eyes.

He bit his lips and nodded.

“Fucked as well.” It wasn’t making any sense.

“So why did you call me over then?” I mumbled now clutching his arms at both sides, shaking myself, looking up.

I love you, I love you, I love you

I ended up just staring at his torn sneakers.

“I love you too.” He squeeks.

We end up kissing.

I don’t know what’s going on.

His tongue is inside my mouth.

His erection is against my hip. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Jamie starts biting my neck lower and lower, avoiding my breasts, we’re in the street, but there’s too many evidence of sexual activity these days, maybe the future is here. He starts stroking me quite roughly.

“You always acted like a bloke.” Jamie pushes my head further as he licks it.

“I love you.” He mumbles.

I just stop and I don’t do anything, he pulled me into the alleyway and he closes my mouth as I come screaming with tears slicing my skin.

It’s not just about me, it’s about him being gay and me

It’s like someone calling you a gentleman and you think you’re doing it wrong.

Saturday, 3 November 2012

High Addiction 2

She gets scared of turbulence and I just get more turned on as her curls swing with the turbulence and I recall how was it coming out with all the shocks, yells and accusations of not acceptance and even partners or people who presumed how the word would spread in circles and the phobia would circle the streets even if it would be London with its scene I would still press my hands against my ears.

The woman rubs her ring and I keep glancing at her breasts.

In the end I take my bag and I go towards the restroom, I close the door and I take a shaver from the bag, which I use for my legs, how I had let it in was the fact that I had used my brother’s electric shaver and what if I had been transitioning even if I’m not. I look at myself wondering how would I look with a stubble as I press the shaver against my forehead turn it on

Everyone just wants a kiss or a glance

I want a relation and I do not want to be single

So I open my eyes and my hair starts falling off even if I am already short haired and young, I watch it fall upon my nose and I laugh as it makes a moustache and I start crying as they declare turbulence again and I am left with sideburns.

The thought that we might die escalates my mind and crushes me with another lurch and then the seatbelts are declared off with apologizes and I expect more orange juice and I head out, my head shaved and I just sit besides her as she raises her eyes and I smile.

She smiles back, still twitching her ring.

I want that woman as a woman.

Women are full of beauty I’m not lying to anyone, it’s not narcissism, it’s the way I was born just as people do not want children, I want a woman and I stare at her as she stands up to make way to me.

I am wearing a bra even if my own breasts are small. I swallow and she is taller than me even in her flats, just a bit taller and I want that woman. I eye her and I want to lick her whole porcelein body and see her reactions and how her cunt looks and I hesitate at my own rude words and the only word which matches my mind is actually to fuck her.

She is staring at me like this pin up Goddess and I look at her slim waist and I see her in corsets and tied up and all wet as I spread out her legs and lick and she ooohs gasping, looking at me, pleading and then I yank her corset off as she gasps and I kiss her all over, bend her knees and start pressing my self against her, leaning back as she stares at my breasts and pulls them.

I open my eyes realised that I have dazed off in my dream and she taps my shoulder as I look at her ring and I want to pin her down even if she might be twice my age. I’ve never felt so wet in my life and I look at the chucked out heels.

“I’m Alison.” I tell her, my gray hoodie unzipped and I don’t even know which band t-shirt I have on as I look into her eyes full of sex and I just want to at least lick her neck.

I want you, woman.

I want to pin her down.

“Dita.” She smiles and she leaves to the bathroom. After standing for a while I go back and I wait for her to exit hoping that no one else comes and I slide my hand through my hair wondering what the hell did I just did as I recall myself blowing at the entire hair.

I bang the door and she opens, everything down, including her black thong and she smiles at me as I look at the trail of cum between her and the fabric.

I go in and stop at my knees, her long nails press against my cheeks.

We stare well, more like her pussy stares at me and leaks with juice.

“Well...” She says and then lowers her head to my level, she strokes my head and I gulp as he hesitates but plants a kiss upon my lips and digs her nails deeper in my cheeks, most likely leaving marks and I slide my tongue in, moaning.

She gasps as I motion her to stand up and I give her a strong lick and she screams, clutching the sink and I smile, kissing her cunt and sucking it lightly. I glance at her green stone ring, maybe an emerald or something cheaper, I’m not one to wear rings.

I press my head away as she gasps.

“Are you married?” I left the question to whisk in her mind.

“No.” Dita gasps and her legs are shaking from the passion I’ve given with my tongue. “I got that ring from my parents ages ago.”

She bites her lips.

“Ok.” And I continue licking harder and harder until she comes and she clutches my now shaved head.

Her legs go around my neck and rest on my shoulders as I plant soft kisses and she keeps stroking me and raises me above by my shoulders, undoes my bra, kisses my cheek, undoes my jeans, slips her fingers into my self and starts rubbing, tugging, playing with my clit as she makes out with me and I just nug her down, sad, depressed, the turbulence sometimes returning and she sees my reaction and slips everything down from her and presses herself against me.

“Look, I’m yours.” And she thrusts and I moan as our wetness rubs and she keeps working on my entire body harder and harder until I moan in her mouth and she sweetly presses her fingers against my self and licks her fingers, tugging me in closer to her, as if tugging me in to sleep in a public airplane bathroom.

“I always wanted a butch woman to come and take me away.” I just close my eyes and let her night take me away as well.


I actually wrote this chapter back as pages tells me 2 september and it's been waiting ever since XD don't kill me:) Sometimes I write stuff ahead and then it waits for its time to be published due to the queue xD I'd like to say thank you as I always do:3

Thank you:3

I hope you're enjoying it so far:3

Feel free to request!!!


High Addiction 3

Friday, 2 November 2012

working mica

Take a cherry, squeeze it out and I will promise you,

You will get drunk

With the scene and all the girls in a row

And my blonde wig which sometimes goes in a curl up to my knees and I will be given kisses you will never dream of, brief from all women running in a circle, all the men stretching out their hands as glitter falls and lands on your lips just to be eaten by the next person and then you take a peach

to ripe your dream and eat a feast.

You leave with a newspaper in hand from here, you sit in the cloudy room, full of clouds a sky which will echo your soul and you will sit there until you are allowed to leave that’s when all your devices are handed back to you, sweetheart.

You are no longer covered in glitter and you walk out to whatever you are supposed to walk out and if it is tomorrow your tomorrow’s choice of clothes will be handed ironed fresh from your wardrobe to you and you will only remember the stripes of these walls as you walk on further you will recall the faces, the lips and how nude you feel without the make up, a lot find the need to come back, a lot just head over to boots to buy some purple Clinique, some make it their own, we’re all not the same, we go into our own tomorrow’s where I might sell you pizza or you will be given me the naked ladies maybe none of us will be gay like those rumours of Romeo and Romeo who saw himself in the aquarium, a perfect illusion, a same and a different man.

Here sexuality is not a sin but a pleasure to tickle your feathers and your hairs, a strip of hair is between your legs eventually or you may have it shaved or your balls or anywhere you wish, as explicit and you will pay your applause to the screen and these stripy walls which have the black and white choke not only the sides but the ceiling and the floor you step upon and the curtains a blood red with a dark purple ribbon with it’s sides up to the floor which I shall pull apart as my corset collapses

And seven blonde men look at me

And I’ve got fake eyelashes on with plastic transparent heels and no underwear so I do not turn and they all clap one by one, all with blonde curls and men are in my taste sometimes among all the women which a young lesbian desires.

All are labels.

Bisexuality is the sin and the rule, queer, we should all be queer to make your present cheeks blush as you walk out and you recall all those you kissed and all those who let your fingers dig deeper inside back or front.

Remember you are a star ready t burst and die all the red blood to leak and deour the floor, an autopsy you’ll perform upon yourself for this place to leak, vomit and cease, there is no death, no life and no

I wave my hands

It’s not a wave but rather observation as I stroll, my legs not aching from the high heels, it’s like pain turning into pleasure and I look at the amount of men today, leaning against a table, the hair trying to fall but still sticking to it’s place as I take a cherry left from an alcoholic cocktail and the alcohol stings in my throat as I raise my eyes to look behind all the lipstick and all the people who twirl and the glitter which falls today onto the floor to a man on the top, his room touching the ceiling as I get another cherry before a male waiter takes the glasses and I see him and eventually I see the man as a woman, maybe all is turned into illusion to satisfy the mind and sex, as I see the woman with the hair combed to a side singing, I stand up in a chair, with no drugs involved this place is like an euphoria and orgasm and I look at the masculine female, the plastic ham behind her glittering on a ceramic blue plate and I see myself against the window as if I’d be a child and I could watch her smoke.

I see her with the old microphone, shirt unbuttoned and I peek to try and see her breasts and I want to see her feel our kiss without glass as I see the room scattered with paper and she rolls the movies at seven and I just lean against the wall with the stars scribbled upon in an expensive manner and I end up going towards the staircase to reach her posters scattered upon the walls.

She doesn’t sing but her mouth is open and I look at her, undoing my corset and she keeps her mouth open, her hair slowly falling onto her eyes like a curtain, I restrict myself and just loosen up my corset instead.

The woman looks down at all the six other blonde men below, being one of the newcomers who find interest in the room, has a need and the woman lights a cigarette, takes out some money and slams it upon the table behind me and fiercely sticks her hand into my underwear as I moan, she bites my neck, making me thrust against her hand as she undoes her pants, licking my neck.

“Scream Margaret.” She asks her eyes blue as she tears my underwear and kisses me softly, spreading my legs and groping my body, undoing her pants and a strap on being on her she slides in, the odd purple colour on her and she turns on the vibration, moaning, sweat forming on the woman who asked me to call her Margaret and she fucks me hard, I keep moaning, watching the crowd glitter upon the floor as it changes to black and white stripes and eventually I and Margaret come and I scream the name a few times before she removes the strap on and presses her clit against my own, taking all of her clothes and cutting my corset open with her fingers as I observe the rings on her fingers gasping louder as her tongue goes in me.

I observe her rather large breasts which I didn’t notice from the tight clothing and I pull her head with my legs, stroking her hair and smashing myself against her mouth until she sits up, licks her lips and fingers me again before positioning herself against me, scissoring and she screams, sweat becoming water as she cannot hold herself, maybe it’s her first time with a woman I think as I watch her come and I come after her, pulling her by the arm and she falls on me, kissing my neck’s skin all over and stopping to lie there for an hour, I don’t ask anything, I just timidly stroke her hair as I watch the purple dildo vibrate.

It’s about kissing briefly when you don’t know where you’re headed and in the end the woman who asked for Margaret stands up, a bit of sweat still covering her back and she slams the curtains closed not to see the bar and the new people and the six men lean their head down and she sits back on the table where we just fucked and I look at her as if I would see her sleeping on her job, eyes both closed but wide open from all the hair even if no longer combed as if I could’ve been on  bus which had the back doors open as venders would walk in and sell fruits and walk out before the colours on the traffic lights would change and the woman would stand up, carefully fix the dark blue fabric and in the need of a smoke exhale and I would go back out to the city with some gold spread out but not on the people to never have fear upon their throats even if we all know something will split open.

Margaret lights a cigarette, watching the smoke instead of exhaling and catching the smoke with her bare lips, her legs crossed and I look at how her skin resembles a ripe peach colour and she raises her head as high as she can and blows a smoke ring as if it would fall and suffocate her to leave death upon my bed and under my nails for spiders to crawl in so that I would scream.

“Why do you have short hair?” I ask her all of a sudden watching her trying to see if her hair is in place and then she just looks down.

“What? Is it wrong to have hair like a man because I am a woman?” Margaret asks pointing down briefly towards the floor and her body, her head still up with blue eyes piercing me with a glare so I just stop briefly, repeating my question despite the rough remark she made.

“I just like it. Sexy.” She stretches out the word and I just nod, it’s not my fault and I just play a bit with my wig.

“Leave and take it.” Margaret says not knowing if I took the money as she opens the curtains and all the men are scattered for the woman to see and she keeps smoking until I leave going down and slowly taking off the wig to see my reflection once I get to the room, my hair nearly shoulder length since the shave and I just lean back, wondering why should all women who are gay look like men instead of looking like women, we are just the same, I’m not saying women who want to look like men shouldn’t, I just find it odd wanting to be a man whilst not being attracted to them as well, what is the meaning for that, although it might be a straight man in a woman’s body and I kept applying powder on once side of my face until half of it covered how pale I looked and the other looked how pale I should be and I blow upon my face, the powder staying and applying the rest to paint the lips for whomever wishes to be next or merely watch, entertain or even doodle whilst carrying a drink.

I sigh, counting the lights again which frame the mirror and the feather smile which hang from the ceiling and some try to form patterns on the floor but the cleaners take them off before I notice and I count once more.

I look at how black the hair seems now, growing as if it were a sin and I see that day again, how I strolled back home through the useless bookstores which charged you double, stuffed with books and alien to customers peeking up from their books and staring as if you had walked into a personal library and they would be shy to ask you what are you doing in their homes and they clung onto the books with claws and all the books are scattered and the dust doesn’t even smell it just clings onto people.

There are also people on the street with their couches turned to the wall and they stare and you just fumble past, I hadn’t touched my hair since I had braided it in the morning and I hadn’t touched it, I just felt it against my face as the movement was resumed.

The night followed by the day, a gay friend of mine pushing me into my first gay bar, past the sparkles splattered on the door and the glitter on the tables from a left over party and the discoball hanging loose and women and men clinging onto their sex there had been a same sex couple making out and I just stood there with alcohol in my hand jealous and my friend for the sake unmentioned we both stood silent, sometimes everything was a sin in everyone’s eyes. I had stared at the brave women with their hands and their hair entangling and I recall that I had seen maybe one of two short haired women which would look a bit like men how I’d been told.

I leaned closer against the table, my back digging into it and the two women, with the light going on and off, each time it went on it was like a flash and the two women kissed me on both cheeks, leaving dark purple lipstick and then traveling to my lips in the next flash before going to the other lesbians and eventually fading in the small crowd leaving me to be like a druggie staring at the bong in front of me or yoghurt can and I just looked at people lighting cigarettes instead, the view of something burning easing me.

Eventually I had left, stopping near the house and trying to clean off the vulgar lipstick and eventually I had even snuck in somewhere and started scrubbing off the makeup even harder up to the point that I had walked up home with a heavy fake blush and I walked into my room, feeling lonely and scared from the first step, pressing my self against the pillow as my brother walked in.

I open my eyes to look at the light and wondering if the mirror reflects the lightbulbs and I tried to catch an angle but couldn’t and sighted my head falling into my arms and soothing like a lollypop.


I couldn't decide where would I end the chapter so basically this is all I've written so far and yeah, I want to write more lesbian fiction so there XD this is what I can do if you request more and please please request the next chapter XD I hope you're as desperate to read more as I am to write more XD

As for the title mica is a mineral which you can leaf quite easily and glimmers and it's latin for chunk and might possibly be latin for shimmer as well as far as I recall:) Yes, I like dictionaries so there XD


I'm off to bed now, I mean it XD


and thank you for the confidence


working mica2

Thursday, 1 November 2012


I don’t open the envelope I just leave it hanging there on a pin in front of me and Paul walks besides me a few times, not saying anything as I’ve got quite a line today, must have happened something cruel and I keep opening the envelopes today, too many of them and counting the money inside as instructed by Paul.

In the end I look at a lady who starts claiming that she does not understand why her son left his wife for a boyfriend.

I’m gay,

I could’ve said.

I just lick her envelope making sure the money is in place and I let her go through the door.

Once we had a day when only two people died, lucky and me and Paul played darts with the door, since you can’t open it you might’ve as well do a hole to see through.

Paul laughed at my idea, saying that the door might be the same, but what lies within is different for everyone.

People were gone.

Paul put his arms around me.

I open the envelope.

I count the money and it’s not missing anything, it even has a few coins and Paul just sighs.

People don’t let you complain back.

“My cat died.” I’d get told.

“My boss has a hot ass, but I don’t know if he likes me back.” It’s not a question of being gay or not, its whether he likes you back or not, homosexuality is bullshit, it’s people liking people, I know that I like men from within, but in theory I could fall for a woman, the thing that I don’t like women is another thing.

I read in a print out that I’m still gay in the fax machine, some former workers just type up things and leave them there as we just have a few novels and everyone dies all the time anyway.

People don’t listen even if your cat died, no matter who died or not, no one listens, Paul listened biting his lip.

“It’s you.” Paul says. “You’ve been promoted.”

“But aren’t you the boss, man?” I say looking a bit up, but he’s looking ahead and I try to kiss him but he’s too distant.

“Yeah, but you’re above me.” And he tightens his grip on me, opening the door, grabbing the envelope, counting.

He just holds the door handle and smiles at me.

We don’t say anything.

We don’t know anything besides playing darts, drinking coffee and our job because that’s what we got here.

I get a suitcase and a hat which I discard and I hug Paul and kiss him sweetly.


And that's chapter two feel free to request xD