Life gets injected as all pieces seem to shatter, balloons, party poppers and lost orientations are drying as if they were socks with a broken dryer above the bed. There is no need, as if suicide were an option and I would look at Jack, telling him, if he were to go, I would go too and it’s a debate of where does life truly escalate and what is the point when memories are no longer conjunct.
The cities are lost and swollen due to ignorance and wrong built memories, because the harshest only survive, killing the thrill of love towards something once shattered with sacredness.
Maybe there is no point, if the luxury of life is memory, maybe there is no point if you reach a point where you can’t look back.
But once thought,
it’s always like that.
Maybe love is making the other survive for a short while,
so how short is too short
and when should one be dipped to drown?
Marriage is a dead circle, once discarded and I wonder how long would my ashes remain on the headlines, feeling as if I could dye it as I would my gray hairs, while smoking and crucification is tempting and luring, as no hand raises to end the strings and the red string of fate is chocking.
All rumors are false.
All is gay, as if I could scribble on walls and get annoyed at the lack of actual gay men, seeing history run through bisexual men and lesbian women, bisexual women, they’re all far away from the end, which I seem to have faced, all of life torn and the ribcage open to reveal the heart of concern
A doomsday scenario as if I were back to education and all thoughts just drag like a chain
Life becomes useless that I can’t even recall my own name at times until I take the pen to dip deeper in veins
I want all to end
Yet you call,
you’re the prince to some desire
fuck you. I’m too young in mind to handle, cliche becomes the eraser, erase
I take the pen and I stab the back of my palm with it, wincing loudly, seeing reality at it’s slow pace and the pain confirming, my head exploding, depression erupting with noise, as I start crying
the worst is when a drunk call is a sober call, cigarette and blood staining the fucking flame, as I speak to you. Fuck you, nothing changes, love makes us all young and needy, cliche and forgotten by ourselves thankfully, because being in love is gross when you’re not together. Fuck.
Void, the thoughts destroy.
Void, the thoughts destroy.
This story is so non-linear and surreal, that I have to reread it often to understand myself what's going on xD and I dunno, I really enjoy it and I guess writing it with big gaps makes it more surreal to write, as I just grab it randomly and I enjoy it, I guess as I realized with time because I still prefer writing gay men. Sorry, if I speak of it too often, but I gave it some thought and well, I guess I've decided to kill off my female side I guess, as I frankly identified with it only through a few periods in life, where I wasn't too happy and confused, but they happened, I was female, but I have just too much dysphoria and I'm not really that attracted to females these days and I guess what helped me was Callie stating that Ikuhara still writes about women and that gave me a clear head. I was mostly agender if I would shift, rather than female. I hadn't been female properly since last March so yeah. I don't want it and well, whenever I shift, I was confused and I labelled it female, but it's not really, it barely happens, but I'm fluid, so I guess I'm happy being fluid male and agender. But I'm mostly male, so I guess don't erase male and fluid, really. I'm in a happier and freer place now as besides a few women, I never identified and I always ran from it. I feel freer as a man now and well, you've always been reading stories by a gay man and will I guess continue to do so.
I'm sorry if I ever thrashed females due to my PTSD, but I'm happy that I'm away from that and yeah. I just feel happy that I have no connection now.
Ok, let's head back to Blunderbuss.
I just got annoyed as I understand how much we need representation regarding queer men, but frankly a lot are labelled gay which were actually bisexual, so you're left with a lot of men who were also into women, so yeah. So that's where the rant came from. So you've got bi erasure and lack of actually gay men. It's like you go, whoever did this xD
I am rather depressed obviously, so pretty much the usual pen stabbing is something I don't do… but people do. I'm more of a start touching different fabrics and ice cubes sort of person. I guess what I liked about this chapter, because I was desperate writing it, giving it a more personal tint. I'm in a happier place gender-wise, so yea, but y'know crushes take ages to go somewhere, so yeah, so I gave that frustration.
I hope you enjoyed it and thank you