Thursday, 26 February 2015

We've all been broken. There is something in the polaroids we take of the ones we love. 3

“Piss off.” I had laughed and ended up spilling time that I crawled into bed by morning to wake up way after noon and roll over, recalling time far too much.

Arielle had started hosting parties far too often and Miles would drag me, causing her to ship us which frankly would result in people asking disturbing questions they would ask any gay couple with the fact that we weren’t even one. Miles just brushed them off, bedazzled by his boyfriend and I had grown a new fear of the stereo even if I seemed to have gained control over it, because the girl would sit next to me and seemed odd that we barely spoke, sometimes thinking out loud which record would work, but it was very monotonous and I wondered if polka dot tights today with the dress meant something and I was far from any human contact besides Miles and Alex who had taken me out when Miles had some conference with some employer back at home. 

Being with Alex had been relaxing and odd, as it was weird to feel what other monogamous men felt towards me, indifference and I even forgot besides what with Miles, how it felt like to even be surrounded by someone who you were nowhere close or rather interested in fucking. It felt odd to even roam the same things, I would with Miles and I wondered how long would their thread of dating even go on and I would watch Arielle and I wondered how would I have reacted if I hadn’t known, would I just be as loving as Arielle if Brian hadn’t been a blabbermouth. Blocking Brian everywhere was enough and he never showed up to my house and I wondered how long would it last, how much longer, until he showed up, both of us at the supermarket and he had been with Stefan, who was hogging up the chocolate isle. 

“My blood had drained from my face, I just put my head down and I left.” I had told Alex, as he had listened. “That was all. I didn’t want anything, but at the same time, I just thought that... I still looked better. I had my hair dyed that day-”

“You dye your hair?”

“No, it’s naturally pitch black. Alex, I’ve changed like three brown tones the past month.” I muttered, drinking the pitch black coffee we took as takeaway, walking the streets and popping into random stores which had nothing besides plain flannel and boxers, but it was still fun. 

I still spoke of Brian.

“Maybe I just didn’t understand because we were so different, that if he went back to his exes, he’d go back to me. That disturbs me. How broken can you be and still cause pain to others. I loved him too much to make me shaken even now.” My medication was getting to me. “I had loved him or whatever he had given to me, screaming that I was the only one he could be mono with, but I didn’t mind

I didn’t mind.

It’s sad because they slip out of your fingers. I took a day dose.” I mutter as an explanation. “Makes me think of exes I’ve lost because I didn’t understand them because I’ve got a lot of empathy-”

“Jamie, you broke up with him.”

Suicide is calming because you know you can end anything at any point when it becomes too much. I just keep drinking the coffee, even if it’s far too hot just to throw it out and have my hands back in my pockets, as I think of the right words to scramble out.

“Yeah, but he’s the one who cheated. I don’t think I can be held blamed for breaking up with him, Al.” I tell him and he just shrugs, as we keep walking and I stop in front of the sex store, highly bored with my life and wondering if I’ve reached the point where maybe I need to bring something else in my lone bedroom, since I haven’t been able to even use any of the toys Brian would use on me, frankly just using my hands. “Hey, straight boy, can I head in?”

I smirk at him, knowing that I should’ve chosen Miles for this, as usually we roam more naturally and Miles still takes the dildos and like anyone mutters on someone’s bravery. Alex just shrugs and we head in. I see that he feels a bit uncomfortable and I wonder if he and Miles properly roamed, but then it hasn’t been too long that they’ve settled down on their cheating on Arielle bit. It feels far too spacious and frankly I’m more used to small rooms which have nothing and half of it is frankly really bad porn DVDs, as we even get stared down. I wonder how much Alex looks out of place, I just browse through the shelves and taking some leather corset once we reach the small section of clothing and press it against Alex’s body.

“Looks good, excite Miles and then I’ll end up hearing Miles whine about how much he misses fucking you, when you’re at work.” I smirk, putting it back and Alex just smirks, still a bit uncomfortable and I wonder how vanilla actually is it with Arielle, finding Brian’s collar last night and just chucking it out on the street, wondering if it would cause more ruckus than a condom or a syringe. I walk back to the toys and I grab a paddle.

“I had a boyfriend, back in high school and my dad was nagging that my room was a mess and he started going through things and he found a paddle.” I smirk, recalling the memory and Alex pales a bit, probably recalling what Miles had told him about my life and I quickly sigh, shaking my head, but the wrong memories not stinging too strongly this time. “No, he didn’t do anything, thought it was a Halloween costume, like I said. He threw out the paddle, though.”

I click my tongue, taking the plain black paddle.

“Maybe you want one with Miles, though?” Alex just shakes his head and I smirk, looking at the small things like sex position dices and sex cheques along with some variations of sexual monopoly. I don’t really venture on Alex with sex questions like I would with Miles, but from what I gathered from both, they’re still having a sexual relationship anyway, so something should be working for both of them somehow. But then we never really know what goes on with everyone and even when we know and I think of Brian laying on the bed, smoking, watching me, a bit confused at his own thoughts when we had both drank too much a few hours before, the booze wearing off and the night giving it’s adrenaline of comfort. 

We never know people and what do they do and what attracts them to someone, which attraction gives an accurate receipt of a person? Alex is fucking my best friend, but he’s also with Arielle, whom I can barely even relate to and whenever we talk, I feel like I enter a field of jokes which would be whispered between me and Miles later about straights. So what is there to people that we don’t see?

Or is there nothing to see?

“May, I help you... both?” And a man much taller approaches us with a lock of curly hair and I just remember that I still have the energy to blow dry mine so it doesn’t become a mess and I muse on the guy’s question, as Alex just crosses his arms. I smirk, making wrong connections at questions. I look at Alex and nod at the shop assistant.

“No, no, I’m fine.” He blurts out and I nod. 

“Nah, we’re fine.” I say and the guy nods, leaving us to the other end of the store, to get out more porn mags which frankly are full of images and I have never seen the appeal, being more of the finding porn to jerk off to online type. I walk over to the dildos, taking the biggest and as Alex watches the wall of erected penises, I poke his cheek with it and he just grabs it back to put it on the glass stand. 

“I thought he’d say you and your boyfriend.” Alex mutters smirking at his own realization and quickly glancing at me. 

“Nah, what if we’re just fucking around like you and Miles or something, so... he’s being open to cheating and stuff.” I say that, before I realize how pointy my tongue sounds, but Alex picks up something else. “And you’re far too handsome Al, to be mine.”

He ignores my dead flirting which neither of us are interested in. 

“Actually... we’re not just fucking around.” He mutters shyly and I glance back at the curly bloke for some reason. I nod at him to continue and I see him flush lightly. “We’ve kind of started dating, it’s obviously behind backs now and yeah... you know the whole drill and all.”

“Why the fuck don’t you dump Arielle then?” I really don’t hold back and I take one of the dildos and turn it on to frankly spin sideways and the soundtrack to our talk. And Alex just pretends to either ignore or think on the question and I poke him with the dildo. 

“I don’t... I’m not sure. Miles told me how he came out and how you came out and-” I quickly bother to interrupt him.

“Yeah, but I came out in high school and so did Miles.” I pause. “No, Miles did in University.”

“And no one really took it lightly.” Alex sighs.

“Well, yeah, it wasn’t too good.” I pick up my words. “We both had fucked up situations, but that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t and you pay your own bills, neither me nor Miles payed them then, so that’s why it was very fucked up, because our parents had the upper hand.”

I shrug. 

“But you don’t have to go around and tell people, hey, I’m gay. It’s more about to yourself and not necessarily about sexuality, I mean, I really can’t speak who you’re attracted to as much as I may be making some daft jokes and assumptions.” I say as he just nods, drifting his vision back to the dildos and takes the dildo to turn it off. “So it’s more about you and Miles. I know I’m standing here judging and I don’t know how much Arielle loves you if she does, but it hurts like a bitch and the sooner you do it, the better and you don’t have to tell her anything about your current personal life. Just quietly end everything. I would’ve preferred if Brian had done that. But that’s me speaking. I’m speaking for Arielle because I couldn’t speak for me.”


I feel as if it's a bit behind on plot and more on musings because that's how I have been recently, frankly. And I guess it's a bit odd and I guess just confirms it how odd it would feel and make everything I guess more naturally and I would myself start liking how everything is going rather than jumping far too fast, frankly. So yeah, I dunno, I get very anxious before I post anything to be very honest, is this story good for today, what else have I got really since the posting/writing are rather separate these days unless I finnish off a chapter and just end up choosing something different than what I'm writing. I wrote some of England's Not Breathing today and a bit of the next chapter of this story, since I opened it and before writing the back story xD 

The piss off follows the other conversation and yeah, I've been quite fast with this story being rather honest about my mental health and using it, writing thoughts and rapid feelings down, really. 

I saw this photo of Valentine with polka dot tights and also a polka dot dress and that really stuck to mind and seemed like a nice image. I feel odd, that I seem to be shipping Jamie with all his exes. But yeah, we're all creepy frankly or are we really?

It's also a bit weird posting this after the whole Miles/Jamie No. 1 Party Anthem chapter where Miles starts thinking a lot on the past, when Jamie is entirely drowning in his break-up really, but I guess we all muse on exes or things which never happened when I was going to say miserable but I think heart broken is a good word or in some odd state of is it happening, is it not. It's really on the downside to be polyamorous at times just like any other state of attraction really xD 

I think the oddest thing is to bump into exes which I haven't done in years really and I think if to choose one was I was dating this guy years and years ago and the first time I saw him months after the break up I was wearing a red dress and black shiny platform shoes. I remember walking away, shaking and thinking how metaphorical I had looked in a red dress. It was a lovely red dress xD 

I think one of the oddest things is when you notice how often Jamie's hair colour changes actually and I love it all to bits :3

I dunno I sometimes hate that it boils down to who broke up with who rather than who fucked up what, really, so I kind of addressed that and frankly this story really speaks my mind out on things or maybe a different perspective so it's like how much explaining should I do? xD 

I had an old friend over and I quite enjoy sex shops frankly so I always walk in and I understand that it's not everyone's drill but I'm not too happy over faces and whatnot, so yeah, kind of wanted the whole 'shit, where am I, this is fucked up' sort of aspect to be touched even if Alex is slowly growing far more tolerant and I dunno it's oddly nice and refreshing to have this story which sheds light on the future of No. 1 Party Anthem even if it's just a few weeks ahead:3 

The sex shop was used as well or the idea because I was getting angry at bad BDSM representation and that it's going under light of shaming due to 50 shades of grey, really, so I kind of shed some light here even if obviously BDSM is the main focus in So you can sink. which is milex as well and I've been writing:) 

The paddle is an actual story I laugh about. I had my dad over when I just moved out. xD So yeah. Funny enough. I miss that paddle, it was a fucking good paddle, it had like this pink material and a pin-up girl on it, it was really nice. Shit, I don't know what happened to the ruler I had. I really need to stock myself up, anyway XD sorry if I won't talk open, think of yourself really because as fucked up as it is we ourselves need to start talking in spaces we find comfortable, I guess like I openly talk about sex in this blog (as if IRL I don't start discussing this loudly for hours making people change seats, although I knew this guy who asked me when I wasn't out if I liked anal for the whole bus to hear, good times, good times). 

I get a kick of avoiding OCs.

I will never get sick of Jamie's snarky comments. I'd be an ass too.

Spoiler for No. 1 Party Anthem then xD

And I guess I like the ending and frankly it speaks for itself.

I hope you enjoyed it and please tell me if you did:3



Wednesday, 25 February 2015

England's Not Breathing 2

“Yeah, I remember that story, I can’t remember what the person’s name was, though.” Jonny said, blowing on his tea as we all sat in the kitchen, Jonny claiming the floor, as a few other people whose name we hadn’t recalled yet enough or others which would soon enough vanish to no longer be boyfriends or girlfriends, as Pete just kept playing with a lighter and I wondered how long would it even take us to get the fire alarm on. We had all drank the beer, but none of us managed to get anywhere close to at least having our thoughts hazed and it seemed to be far too late to bother to go outside to chain smoke, even if sleep wasn’t bothering to grace our bodies with drowsiness anytime soon, but we still stayed in the kitchen, Pete and Jonny reminiscing old things which seemed to be going through their heads, as a new year would slowly keep unfolding and I just waved them off, heading back into the room, right under the blankets and wondering if I could ever count stars on my bedcovers and that had been the last thought of the night, washed away by the morning’s deja vu. 

It becomes hard and I seem to far too neurotic as we get told to think of things for design and I seem to be struggling, nearly piercing my lip with the pencil as I still think of the sketch, legs under me, all thoughts dissolving into nothing and I just keep sketching boxes as if they would be filled with something, as my head seems to start aching from no pressure even being given to it and I recall Pete telling me about his friend and it seems odd, how all was dropped instantly because it’s more than often when you and your friends stop a conversation and in your head, you’re still talking to yourself about it and it just reminds you of some shallow deceived loneliness, which nags, reminds you there is a reason I’ve never gone for Pete or for Jonny whom I barely talk to these days, as he always shrugs off going to the pub, Pete coming with me for company. 

So he had just mentioned Damon then and in all fashion, I started musing what would I even say if the link was so easy to approach, pressing my hand against my cheek, sketching ropes now, not even recalling what the subject was supposed to be, as people seem just as lost as always, you tend to think people grab some responsibility as years go, but instead we seem more like toddlers in diapers, we puke all over the place still. 

It would just be as daft as in high school, only I had some evidence or rather too much, since he seemed to entertain everyone nearly every night, shyly singing and avoiding the crowd as if it were a void, he was too much at unease with being the lead singer that I would watch him at all times, when he would break and relax. It was odd to think that Damon would meet us in the pub, as if he were a magnet to lure the singer out. What do you even say in a tribe of a bizarre near to blind date where only one participant is aware? I wondered if that meant that Damon would talk before hand and of course, it just meant nothing. 

Damon was waiting for us already, Pete dropping his attire from yesterday, yawning from recalling next to dawn that he hadn’t even started on a due essay, causing him to barely feel awake as we just walked on. Damon had lighter hair and it’s odd whenever you see a new face, because you don’t register all the traits and you wonder how many more times would you even see him anyway. All anxiety seemed to have risen to all of my neck, paralyzing it, but I still managed to mutter a hello and quickly shake his hand, causing Damon to smirk, as Pete just grabbed the chair next to Damon, as his light eyes focused on me.

“So, you into Scarfo then?” Pete’s friend asked me, as he took out a cigarette box, humming some tune which was even heard over the loud music provided before the band would even show it’s toes and I wondered how long would it take for my torture to start and I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t on foreplay or full on pain at this point, I wasn’t distinguishing anything at all. Pete waved a taken lit cigarette in front of me, before sticking it in my mouth.

“Graham, you spacing out-” And I take a small drag, before speaking myself.

“I’m fine, I’m fine-” I hand him the cigarette back in one quick motion, feel myself freeze. Damon shifts his vision above me and I turn around, as I hear a voice deeper than I had expected.

“Hey, Damon.” And he’s in flesh before me and obviously closer, as I see that he’s older and just as uncomfortable and scanning the table, as I notice Pete do a little wave. He’s got his guitar on his back at the moment, so I’m guessing he would just cut through and end up plugging it eventually. 

“Hey, Jamie.” Damon replies and then starts pointing towards both me and Pete at the right time and even widens his eyes as a sigh when needed at the word huge, which just makes me heat up and go cold a second later, as I keep staring at him, wondering how the fuck can you even look more good looking each day and it’s odd to see him very freshened up and a bit tousled nervous from the fact that he would be playing soon. “So, here’s Pete an old friend of mine, we’re also in the same class now and that’s his friend Graham which is a huge fan of yours.”

“Hey, I like Jamie’s band too, stop discrediting me, Damon.” Pete smirks and I just keep staring and spacing out, as I take Pete’s cigarette, which causes Jamie to smirk lightly as I inhale, making my actions too fast as if time could be taken away from me. “Really, I really like it, you guys are amazing.”

And he cuts himself short, quickly catching my gaze and realizing how awkward this is for me already and how much I wish I were as unnoticeable as concrete on a road. But since I don’t speak up at my silence at all, which is handed, Pete and Damon exchange glances as I keep staring nearly wide eyed and smoking. I’m a fucking fool. 

I feel a kick under the table.

“Sorry, I’m just... dazzled. You guys are amazing and I always loved all the songs-”

“You force me to come here every night.” And here’s the facilitation I don’t need from Pete’s mouth, as he interrupts, nudging somehow forward as now Damon lights himself a cigarette, still keen on watching me. I pick at the table, looking down. I close my eyes briefly. “I hope I payed your bills. Every fucking gig, mate, every fucking-”

“Yeah, we get it, Pete.” Damon interrupts and Jamie just smiles briefly, before the other guitarist quickly pats him on the back, doing a quick nod and heading towards the stage with a pint. Jamie shuffles on his own words. 

“I hope it doesn’t get too boring and yeah. But um, thanks, honestly. I’m glad you enjoy it.” He smiles at me briefly and then glances at his watch. “Sorry, um, I have to start setting up. They get cranky if we start later, I was going to join you later, but decided to say hi before the set.” 

“Oh, um, thanks.” I mutter as if to no one in particular. Now nearly chipping all of the table’s furnish off with my nails. Jamie glances at my hand, probably feeling just as odd on being on a pedestal, I would. He nods and excuses himself, holding onto the strap. I watch him go into the crowd.

“What the fuck, that was disastrous-” Pete starts, but I cut him off, wishing I could somehow do a switch button on all of tonight. 

“Yeah, it would have been even worse if you decided to say that I jerk off to him every night by sketching him in my sleep or something-”

“Jesus, of course he knows what your intentions were. Don’t worry, he’s just as shy, honestly, Graham.” And then Damon looks at Pete, who seems to be shrugging and pulling the ashtray towards him, pushing the chair a bit further for him to prop his knees against the table. 

“They’ll be fine, honestly, Pete.” Now Damon assures Pete. He blows out the smoke. “So, you’re in art then, Graham?”

He waits for me to switch back, as I see Jamie on stage and I wish I would’ve gone after him in the crowd and said something, but I guess since he would be joining later, I should have some sort of chance to do anything at least excuse myself for being so blatantly stupid. I nod, fixing my glasses, as if forcing a new habit than destroying furniture which would have been more loved by the new people seeping into the pub. 


I felt awfully depressed from finishing off this other story called Poison the Rose, so I was sunken in this odd depression that I had finished it and I found it hard to write and with mania constantly on my heels so yeah, so in the end depression and my own anxiety building up I think ended up being the best preparation for this chapter. So the past few days I would scribble a bit of one story and others, but then I randomly saw a photo of Jonny Greenwood and I realized how long I hadn't written anything with him, so I ended up thinking that I could chuck him in even if it's a brief cameo and I got carried away and even if I was writing it slow and rather anxious and chunky, I still love how it ended up and I still have this rough anxiety holding me back now, so yeah.

Same shout out to that story and in general I think like any Blur fan I will gladly point out how excited I am for the new album and Go Out is just so amazing and I'll be honest, I was very doubtful of Blur's return if it would happen and I just felt that it wouldn't be Blur-esque and that seemed to make me sad, but hearing Go Out and loving it, I actually feel awful for doubting Blur's comeback which frankly we all knew would happen eventually xD

So I'm awfully excited and pumped up for it :D

As I wrote the chapter I actually asked Callie, wait, why didn't I use Alex James? And then I realized that I do love Alex James, but I truly love Jonny much more and this story seems to be a big mix of FUCK YES, ANYONE WHO EVER WAS ANYWHERE NEAR LONDON WORKS. I have no idea, but that's what it looks like and I like it, I guess other works influence me, writing other things so after To Miles I seem to randomly have stories with a bunch of characters and interactions which is still a bit unusual to introverted me and whatnot. So I seem to be sticking everyone who I've ever been sexually attracted to, it's like a walk down all my teenage years, sheesh. 

I actually sometimes get lazy to research stuff if I'm in the middle, I'll confess, so I just presumed from what I've seen and my own art school what it would be like, so I stuck that scene simply because that's what I had in mind and my own experience. I'm guessing it was close or I guessed, sorry about that.

I don't really have a lot of writer's block I might get stuck on a story, but I have like what 20 ongoing? I don't even know, so is it even if I rotate? And I still write at least 500 words each day, at least, so yeah and I binged this whole chapter and even wrote a bit more for the next. I mused on whether to make this chapter longer, but decided against, so some Gramon awaits you next. xD 

So regarding the boxes it was something I would draw first and then proceed to do the idea and the more I kind of go in life, the more I see how art school really helped my way of thinking like we had a teacher which would tell us and even be angry if we wouldn't be able to sketch a passerby in the what 30 seconds they walk past with one so kind of obsessing with capturing that, possibly influenced my writing and desire to leave it the way I capture it in the beginning, so yeah. But I'm the one who is obsessed with that, so yeah. So I guess art school, specifically that teacher and the Beat generation were the ones who built my writing style and way of presenting I guess xD and I was also taught that if you have paint leak further on the paper, it's a blessing as you should turn it around, so I guess that's what happens to me when I write a passage and then go... shite. Like for instance Graham was supposed to go after Jamie, but he didn't, so many of the scenes which are turned into what ifs and thoughts were actually failed scenes xD 

I think a lot on platonic and friendship and I guess I just shoved that out in the open really. I'm very sexual and a relationship person, I'm too poly, I guess xD

I muse a lot on what I would say, too much xD

I think one of the biggest discoveries you do is that frankly many people which go further in education, it's still a continuation of school so many don't know what they're doing, I guess I always found it weird because uni was just so hard to get into (be born in the wrong countries and you're fucked, it's qualification after qualification, don't forget xenophobia and the institutions against you) I kind of always knew where I wanted to go and I know we all have different stories but I was always lost looking at people who knew nothing what they wanted to do because I knew and I would always get told it's okay not to know, take time off, I don't want to and I want to study and yeah. It doesn't always work that way, but keep trying, I think I speak enough of it in Gandalf's Inhaler xD on how institutions give no shits in the UK specifically since that's what shot me in the first place, so yeah. 

So kind of seeing that people are as scared or lost as you are is a big eye-opener, because yeah, no one really know what to do even if you know where you're going and etc, you still don't know how.

I think it's weird because Gramon is a rather strict ship I've been into for years so trying to break my neck with Graham/Jamie is odd xD even if it's plotwise going and yeah xD and I seem to be drifting into Gramon too fast as expected. 

I space out a lot, so I gave that gift to Graham here and how I deal with it xD Props to Pete xD I love him through out this entire story, I should really stop being a dick to him and make him full main somewhere instead of best friend or friend (I know, To Miles ached, I know). 

It's awfully interesting to hear the few Scarfo live recordings, how shy is even if Jamie's still shy onstage (partially, obviously not as before) but it's still interesting so I just threw a dart blindly, guessing really the end of it xD

I was excited to have Damon and to be honest, the original place how they were supposed to meet changed, but I'll have it in my mind. 

I find it weird that when I'm depressed I will actually write comic chapters and vice versa, so yeah xD here's some relief and I was laughing at it, reading it out to Callie. Also it wasn't planned for Jamie to show up before the set and saying that he would join them later:) I'm doing a lot of smileys again xD fuck XD

I fidget so much, just as much

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and thanks to my own chunky anxiety that I think I got Graham well, so yeah. 

Please tell me if you liked it, as I'm always anxious and yeah

Thank you, I should have the next chapter up soon since I seem to be binging this easily or sort of easily xD it's hard to write anxiety whilst being anxious



Friday, 20 February 2015

Poison the Rose 5

I still get asked questions regarding my relationship with Lana, I get told that unfortunately I have to answer them all even with pauses, water in the room and Jamie smoking outside the building, his own turn after my own, even if we had been buying wine. I don’t understand why the more she decomposes the more I am suspected, but soon the questions turn around, as I get asked more but now about who could’ve done this to Lana if it wasn’t me

For they say that lovers kill lovers

Or that my love could’ve killed.

I’m dismissed and when all things are done and Jamie walks out, coughing, passing me his phone.

“I couldn’t get a copy, but I think photos were enough. Knew a lad.” Before I even get to properly glance at them he sends them back to me. I narrow my eyes at him.

“Isn’t mail traceable and whatnot?”

“They denied you the right to have the evidence, when you were her fiancĂ©. If the law is on someone’s side or God, if you must, it’s yours.” He lights a cigarette, flicking through his phone. “I’m also interested in why had they cut Lana’s hair. It doesn’t make sense-”

I bite my lip.

“Some metaphor or sign, I presume.” My mania reaches out to make my vision as clear as day, sleep slipping away and I feel my body shake, scrolling through the photos of Lana’s death and how I had lifted her up, there were even close ups of my face.

“Did you do the test?”

“Excuse me?” I raise my eyes, not even realizing that I’ve been staring at Jamie’s usual suede boots which haven’t changed in the past months. Maybe they are too comfy. It’s the second pair. 

“I heard them talking what if you were delusional and killed her.”


“Because it’s two women, of course they’ll start thinking, it’s always like that.” He shrugs and I just look away, watching his cigarette smoke be freer than any of my thoughts would be, as we just stand still near the building, barely managing to even move anywhere, the fountain closed for winter and people seem to be closing as well. 

All seems done.

They still tell us we can bury her slowly after, when we’re all rested from the fact that she’s dead, hours later, myself on the old French couch Jamie even sleeps on at times, when he’s got a depressive episode, before she’s fully decomposed and I try one of Lana’s white dresses and once I put it on and Jamie tells me that I look great, I start hyperventilating. It feel suffocating, as I even call Jamie into the room.

I yank it off, before going to the bathroom and puking

I don’t want her out, as Jamie holds my hair back.

I want her to stay, but not like this,

not like this

I vomit again, feeling my throat tear apart and I just push the dress away with my leg.

“I think you looked great.” He tells me and I shake my head, puking again, now sitting on the cold floor, my chin trembling, scared of the simple dress. 

I have odd thoughts in my head as I glance at it again, motioning for him to take it away, all Jamie does is pick it up and throw it out of the checkered tile bathroom, as I bend over again, now hiccups reaching me, shaking, shattering me, I feel that hyperventilation may greet mania now. 

“I feel paranoid. I don’t want to wear it. I don’t want to claim something.

I don’t want to claim.”

I puke, thinking fast.

I think of the fucking granola quote.

“I feel like I’m half-made. I don’t understand so many things.” I look up at him. “You once told me I was gender defying.”

I puke.

“Maybe I am. Then that distances myself from everything I’ve said. That distances me from the myself I knew or wanted to know, believe, whatever.” He hands me tap water, I down it, feeling my stomach unease even more, but nothing goes up. “It’s not my fight, when I’m seen as a trend. I am and I am not. 

I am and I am not.” I wrap my hands around me, above my stomach.

I am nothing.

I am both.

I don’t puke.

The thoughts are sudden of realization at a time of trauma, because the mind is a time bomb.

I don’t know where I go, I just seem desperate.

Because by the end of the day we are left alone with the people who we are alone with. Lana would be one of them. But she’s gone and I don’t know where, I don’t know how and I don’t even know how to reach and the mystery makes me wonder what had happened and how do you even move on when your heart is taken?

What is the point if the only answer why you’re not suicidal on a hotline is the beloved?

How much is agreed upon us?

For some reason, I feel as if I have to prove what’s worse separation or death and I look back at Jamie, recalling our break up for some reason as he holds from smoking and sits besides me, as I keep drinking the water, feeling all my body shake from the cold shock and knowing that when you do things, your body escapes and you’re left somewhere else. I close my eyes, as if I were dreaming again, knowing of the places with streamers where I would never see her again, because all love is the same and all the confessions are the same, but I’ll never hear them again.

So the question is do I want to live with her memories with me or do I want to end myself as well and I feel his hand on my wrist. 

For some reason I remember how I had broken down when we had broken up, after all a break up seems to be more tragic than a death by psychological standarts, because Lana never refused me, just life did. My head starts spinning and I wave his hand away, my hair in front of my face as I start gasping for air.

We haven’t even looked at the evidence yet.

“Break ups make you think of gender.” My chin trembles, because dating Lana had made me close that chest for once and for all, her death opened all my darkest secrets. I look at him. “Because it makes you ponder or rather when you talk to people about it, it makes you ponder. Is it better for them or for you to come out?”

I pause, pressing myself against the wall, recalling how I get singulated as a woman in music, always. I keep talking, feeling regret be able to rewind later as places circulate in my mind with Lana, places which had gone wrong but not her. 

I straighten up, exposing my neck, before it gets closed again. Love shatters us. Not being able to hear the love.

“And is there being a point at being angry at someone who doesn’t understand?” I press my forehead against the cold tile wall, missing checkered. “What is the point if we lose touch anyway when people get angry at you for being who you are?”

I feel mute, yet speaking in front of a crowd, letting myself and my decoy anger out.

“I don’t want a conflict of the self if I don’t have one.” Everything seems to be leaving my body. I hiccup. “It’s been a while since I thought of it.”

I wonder if I should try to stand up, as I get far too fidgety from solely sitting. 

“We’ve got a cult of femininity. You can’t say you’re not a woman, because then you’re erasing the image people thought of because they looked up to someone who wasn’t female and then that makes them question themselves because they’re sure of their gender, I can’t speak for them and you’re sure about your gender so then it becomes a question for them, why were they looking up to someone who is not one?” I squeek to Jamie as he looks at me, reminiscing all our talks, making sure not to speak yet. 

Lana never knew.

I start crying.


I derailed as it's supposed to be far more surreal, but I'll be getting there, since I've been mostly writing more realistic stories these days and that's how my writing style has been going as well >.>

I really feel like discussing Lana's death would be me talking and spoiling things, so I'll unfortunately be silent regarding that and Jamie is pretty much like a side-kick here and helping Alison through this mentally, so yeah. I kind of always had Callie with me, so it's rather natural for me to give someone to help you through rough times in stories and yeah. I'm sorry I'm rather anxious tonight and I hope you'll like this chapter, frankly:)

I think the main emphasis goes on the fact which worried me, did I make Alison's coming out too sudden? And well, since Alison is androgynous I poked Callie as usual on it and we both frankly sat and thought that well it does come like a bang on the head and in my case, I mused on gender a lot before I fully realized who I was, so that frankly used. And it's not really the first time I've had Alison as trans, because there's obviously Stale Smoke In A Running Circle which I really miss, but I like the ambigious ending there and I dunno, I still have a headcanon that VV (I really do differentiate the current and past Alison) was androgynous, well, I think, so yeah, I kind of carry that headcanon to stories. 

There's an interview where Jamie talks how Alison once wanted to go on stage in a dress and he said she looked amazing but at the last moment she changed from it, so I kind of used that for dysphoria frankly, because there are items of clothing which scream at you and you feel uncomfortable and dysphoric in or without for that matter. 

I vomit when my anxiety reaches a very high level, so I use that in stories I guess as the anxiety peak. 

Jamie once called Alison gender-defying back in Keep on Your Mean Side. 

I think I have to say that coming out is awfully hard and I come from an unnaccepting place and I was told that being male doesn't suit me among other things, that I was erasing strong women because I am "one" so yeah, that was very hurtful and awful to hear, so me and Callie were outside and I actually started writing an angry conversation which is now what you see with Alison talking to Jamie, but it was intended for One For The Road actually, but I wasn't sure if I would make Alison androgynous there too, so I read out most of it to Callie and I derailed and I was angry and obviously had the word man in it instead of someone else, because in their eyes they shouldn't be praising and looking up to a man, because I don't match the standarts of one in their eyes. That was very hurtful and that's why I'm pushing out this chapter, because I'm tired of getting told about all this bullshit that you're erasing women by coming out as male, that then you take away the strong women, but how can you put men as women? Exactly. So I've been awfully pissed off about it, frankly.

I have many lines here and the more I go on, with all the bullshit, I usually tell it to Callie vocally even if I speak of her so often here, but she is the reason for me to exist and everything, so yeah, I'm thankful I met her so early in life, so yeah. I really speak a lot to her through prose but when it's like a backstory essay as funny as it is, it feels very public xD And I'm rather quiet about that at times, more of a keep it to the person you love, really because you're telling that to them. 

When I was studying psychology I remember I got told or taught that divorce is worse than a parent's death and I actually said that I don't agree and well, maybe it's because I had different circumstances but I wanted to bring that in, really and think on it.

The streamers and the place play a role, it's funny how specific old parts of cities seem to carry places and yeah, I wanted to keep that here and to use it for Lana and Alison here. 

I had discovered who I was properly after a break up so I used that, really

A broken heart kind of pushes you painfully forward into right directions, really.

I really spoke from the heart on the monologue. I am who I am and I hate that people loved me for someone else. I am me and I'm male, thank you very much. Fluid, though, but male.

I hope you enjoyed it and thank you, tell me if you liked it, I'm sorry I've had a rough couple of days emotionally, so yeah and sorry if I'm not very interractive, but I really appreatiate any messages, thank you

Thank you



Wednesday, 18 February 2015

No. 1 Party Anthem 4

Waking up is claustrophobic when you know the streets, the sheets and perhaps not the person right besides you as the memory replays sex in loops and loops and specifically when his cock is in you mouth. He moans awfully loudly, thrusting, as I keep my throat relaxed, starting to stroke myself. I wonder if I should let him off easily, but I don’t, letting his slide hard and painful out of my mouth. I ache for him inside me. I stand up and press our cocks together, both of us wincing. He’s not tested. Fuck fuck. I recall the guy who was in a gang-bang with his ass full of cum from twenty different men. Fuck. Fuck this. I kiss him harder, as I get his hand and he strokes me.

“Please fuck me, pizza boy.” I smirk, as Alex doesn’t hold and sticks two fingers insides me harshly, I wince, turned on, moaning against his neck, as he sticks them in and out. 

“Fuck you, feels so good.”

“It’s going to feel better, Miles.” I have to take his hand out, just to drag ourselves to the bedroom. I go on fours and still decide to use a fucking condom until the wanker gets tested, as I throw one at him, lube as well. I hope pullouts isn’t the only thing he’s done in his life. Desire consumes all thinking and fear, allowing only actions to take over the mind in a sexual manner, as all leads to an accurate separate conclusion. I am still partially surprised that he manages to put it on. I feel entirely intoxicated as I feel his lips against the back of my neck and I feel as if anxiety comes and goes, as I know who he is and what we are doing and it feels as if I am getting thrown my fantasy right in the face, all of the implications of it, of how it is to actually be fucking a straight guy who makes sure to state explictly that he’s straight without any pondering on his sexuality and keep it all under wraps.

“Put your hand around my neck.” I beg him as he inserts a finger against inside me, as I let out a heavy breath, allowing him to tease me further, as he licks my neck, slowly positioning himself, but still continues to finger me anyway. He stops as the request. And lack of knowledge is one of them. I sigh, heavily turned on. “Jesus, you’ve never had that?”

I look back at him, but he does as I ask and it’s a bit too harsh, before he loosens, trying to understand the mechanisms, as I get more turned on by feeling at his disposition, my mind ticking in insane ways. He spreads me and slides in, lubed up, holding me harsher by the neck, as I hold my breath. 

“You see, I’ve never fucked a guy before.” He lies, pushing me harsher to him, bending over me entirely and slamming in me as deep as Alex can, as pleasure keeps rocking back and forth through my body, as he starts going in and out of me, holding my breath and biting either my neck or my shoulder, digging himself deeper and out, every fucking time that it becomes a slow, pleasurable, building up tension which I start praying would never end as he slowly gets the speed and by his breath I start feeling that he’s not going to last long and I gasp louder, as his grip increases on me and he looses it.

Alex keeps thrusting inside me in and out, as he starts coming and I get too turned on and over the edge, as I gasp, shouting out as pleasure takes over me and we do the last thrusts on the wave of pleasure, as it strangles us and then lets loose, as I just fall on the bed, wincing at the sudden choice of move as Alex gets out of me, I wince again, realizing how harsh we had done it and my neck a bit sore, as I roll on my back, Alex laying red faced and catching his breath besides me, wiping sweat off his forehead and he pulls the condom off, tying it, opening his eyes, a bit embarassed to look at me.

I feel a bit odd as well, just like you feel when you’re watching a porno and it’s over. Our silence seems to mutilate us and neither we are touching and I feel my back ache lightly. And I wonder for some reason of the condom/cinderella shoe analogy in Fight Club for some unholy reason, but I keep it to myself, as I look down, to see how frankly the fluid is still there, reminding that I’ll need to shower it off. I sigh out loud as Alex pokes the condom and then muses for a bit where to even put it. 

“Just put it on the floor, I guess or bedsheets, don’t bother.” I say and I hope it doesn’t sound as harsh as I had thought and he just drops it on the floor and I get my anxiety back with realization that if you’re just fucking, it’s just fucking and there’s nothing afterwards. 

I don’t even know with which words should I even speak, because I feel as if I have none, because it’s odd to see him just stand up and leave again, if he will, because he gets the easiest stick of them all, he wouldn’t have to get kicked out of home just like Jamie did or I wouldn’t have to drop education because the bills wouldn’t be able to be paid. He just goes on with his life, playing someone else at some point but never really truly feeling at what it is to be a gay man, really, because he isn’t one and because it will be easier and he will never have to struggle, besides juggling a secret which will easily be rubbed off unlike all of us left, wondering where does our life even begin, as we are getting mugshots to remind ourselves that there is everything wrong with us and the light blinds us, because it wants to. Or those who ran away and were never found even by themselves, so it becomes a question of fairness and why does it happen and should I even be pissed off?

It becomes more of a question is it pity of the self or is it actual trying to show some self-care and it becomes that many stories are forgotten, that many incidents are just shoved away because no one seems to be interested in something which cis women see as abomination or cis het men see as something wrong, flawed, the problem is that it starts stripping off not only the sexuality, but gender just because there is no desire to participate in a love we would never care about or some masturbation we could be doing along and as the years went by, the hate sometimes flutters down, but it’s still hard with recalling a bunch of words said or listening to Stefan even shrug it off about his parents, it becomes the taboo topic, which Alex would avoid

It becomes a passerby with immunity.

It becomes the person who sees it all and only gets inner turmoil, perhaps when we don’t.

I want to kick him out at first, as he keeps his silence to himself, but I just feel frustrated and I wonder how do you even speak of it, if you’re the one getting turned on by a fucked up fetish only to wake up next morning and realize how fucked up over you’ve become, that all the shows you watched wanted you dead and Alex had uttered jokes which could’ve possibly trailed onto some slur me or Jamie might’ve heard on the street or could be a replica of words we’ve both heard or Brian had to yell back against at his father. 

So is it even sleeping with the enemy and for what purpose? Is it great reckless sex?

But it always narrows down to the if you have chemistry with the person, but you can always be angry, anger is always justified, as I recall Jamie stating that he’s angry on more than different occasions, specifically when he has mania and it’s awful when he comes to mine’s, just that he’s not alone, whenever he’s off with Brian or Brian once had to visit his parents, a ticket bought and Jamie had no intentions of seeing them and it was agreed that I would take care of him, Brian telling me all the dos and don’ts and I remember thinking that Jamie was lucky to have someone who cared of him so much and Brian had been back the next day, banging on the door and Jamie in his arms.

I try to push thinking far back, as I look at Alex, musing on some future and where would I even stand, I’ve even grown to liking being more alone than ever, feeling uncomfortable and feeling that Jamie and Brian storming in on me whenever and every week or so was enough and now I knew that I wouldn’t kick Jamie anywhere because when he had just started off with Brian, that’s when I had told my parents, there was this trend that everyone had to come out, there was this motion, which both me and Jamie had done.

And it was one of those mistakes where everyone who was out and miserable, everyone who had already been kicked out and settled for ages, decided to speak out and tell you that it’s ok even if their children hadn’t talked to them in years, that their partners were gone, that their friends had vanished but they were happy now, that now was the time and it even felt like a task to say. 

Even if I had seen Jamie, who had come out a few years before, he had been drunk and said that it was my choice, but seemed that mine would slip, we were going somewhere, that all could be done, that all could be done, that I could come out.

No one really talks about people from middle class which get kicked out, people forget that many youths didn’t even know the value of money until they were kicked out, forcing to crash at other’s and I remember shaking at Jamie’s house, who they had assumed was my boyfriend and told me that he was a bad influence a week before, because then everyone would think that I was gay.

I was gay.

And speaking things which escalated into more silence and then shouting how I would never give grandchildren, how everything I did was wrong, how I was showing that civilization was falling, that being gay became some trend and how come I had wanted to become a woman then, how come everything was wrong with me.

And you’re shoved outside. 

And I couldn’t even go back to university the next day and as summer passed, looking for jobs it dawned on me that I wouldn’t be able to do anything, Jamie helping me with everything he could, triggered by my own parents and I recall both of us sitting in his small tub, an apartment similiar to the one he had been renting, a bit before he had met Brian and we had looked at each other, entirely drunk and forgotten, feeling as if there was nothing left at my feet.

“I won’t continue university.” I felt as if all the future I had was taken away from me, even the lie that I could simply continue English Literature was taken away from me, I wouldn’t be able to do anything myself, I wouldn’t be able to starve myself either just for the idea and desire that people would care enough to care about some gay guy’s illusions and sexual fantasies on paper. 

“Your call, Miles.” Jamie had decided to continue, but I figured there was no point and I started sobbing. 

The water didn’t seem relaxing anymore to either of us it seemed and I wondered what the fuck was even going on with us, I couldn’t make out of anything and I just remembered how much I wanted him just to silence me and he looked at me and I realized that if we were to do something, it would’ve been wrong at the time we would’ve and I just dunked myself further underwater, that Jamie tapped my shoulder as a reminder for me to breathe and for the months we lived together I wondered what the fuck keeps people who get along together until he was drunk one day and told me that sometimes he’s awfully daft, that he’s awfully daft and sometimes doesn’t see when people like him and it takes him ages to want someone and it has rarely happened to him, most of his attempts which like mine were with women we hadn’t wanted. Mine mostly, Jamie would just wiggle himself out of them. 

“I guess I’m just demisexual. I really don’t think I’m a gray asexual. I just can’t seem to get connections going far too easily.” He had told me and I had watched him, the mornings were he would look like a total mess, unshaved for a few days and his hair curly, something I hadn’t realized until I had moved in with him, as I sat at his for the first few days I would watch him shave, realize how fast his facial hair grew, how he would blow dry his hair and sometimes apply make up, a bit embarassed as I’d watch and then he would just sit next to me besides me in the bathtub and I wondered if I should just let it slip.

And I did.

He soon enough met Brian, who started showing up at our doorstep all the time and was smitten with Jamie, as he felt a bit uncomfortable with me at first and even asked me once when we headed outside for alcohol, if I loved Jamie and I just shook my head, feeling my cheeks heat up lightly as the shorter man watched me, narrowing his eyes, it’s odd to think of a time when me and Brian didn’t get along too well and now we don’t again, I don’t think we will. We never do when he and Jamie are off. 

“He’s just fucking daft, mate, I’m telling you. Just... give him time.” I said as before he stayed outside smoking, tapping his platforms on the pavement, watching everyone walk by as I felt a bit uncomfortable in store and I wondered what had Jamie’s own thoughts been then, as I never decided to ask him then, I just figured he would ask me when the time would come. As we walked back to the apartment, I sighed, saying that Jamie was demi and all and could take a while.

Brian still confessed the two weeks after that and I would sneak out of the apartment, Jamie just shrugging as Brian would ask Jamie to play guitar for him and what they would do or talk about would be left in their minds only as I would just roam around town, feeling a bit freer, maybe because Jamie had started to find someone who he had liked.

I wondered if I had loved Jamie just because he had taken me in and we were the only ones who didn’t venture away from each other or was it because I really did love him and what is the wrong love anyway.

And Brian had stayed one night, when I was falling asleep and I had dreamt of Jamie properly, waiting for Brian to leave for his own lessons, as Jamie had gotten back from walking Brian off to his classes and he had been wearing a lazy hoodie, his hair a mess, a stubble and it was a different way of seeing him and he had been grinning, apologizing and I just felt something either tear or build up inside me. 

And we’re all daft, because we’re scared of ruining nothing.

Because we’re scared of losing the people we’ve held on long enough. 

Because we’re so used to never touching them. 

We kept looking at each other, as if we had both known, as if we would have shared a kiss, but we never did. 

“I just want you to know... that you mean a lot to me.” He had said out, quietly and softly. Jamie looked down, zipping up his hoodie. He looked up, trying to find more words, but sometimes you don’t have to confess to be obvious. 


“So you and Jamie are platonic or what?” Brian had asked me once, when he was staying over and I had been moping and it had started to get a bit weird, that I hadn’t had a boyfriend and Brian and him had just gotten back together. 

“I don’t know, honestly.” I answered honestly and fast before I could be taken away with his question. 

“I really don’t want to venture on you two admirers, but whatever you guys... Fuck this, maybe friendship does exist. But you do want to fuck his brains out.” Brian said pointing his coffee mug at me. 

“Aren’t a bit uncomfortable with it, Brian?” I asked back, fast as he just shrugged, making coffee as Jamie had gotten some ridiculous small job of carrying someone’s items from one house to the other and all week we had joked calling it the break up move, because both parties were far too tense and it seemed a bit too much like a TV show move, without flying knickers, though. 

“You guys aren’t doing anything, I’m not aware of, so...” He shrugged. “And I know Jamie’s side, which you don’t.”

I felt a bit flushed, bit toned down, letting the feelings slide with months now. He smiled at me. 

“It’s odd, that we’re friends with the current situation.” I smirked. 

“Well, you are my boyfriend’s best friend, well, I’m addressing how you guys go ‘officially’.” He sat beside me. “Because frankly we all want to fuck our friends, well, unless we’re ace or demi. Jamie’s an ass. I had to fucking spell out that I wanted him up my ass like three times.”

“He told me.” I rolled my eyes and Brian laughed with me. 

I would be lying if I missed Brian already and when they were both on. I didn’t ask for Jamie’s side of the story, though, as I presumed that Brian kept our stories separate that’s what never made sense, why they would go off and Brian wouldn’t talk to me much. Sometimes when they would be off, he would knock on my door and enter my apartment, years on and I remember he would always be in something far brighter as if to hide his depressed side and he would reapply his make-up as he would speak. I would never understand why he would even hurt Jamie. And it seemed that he didn’t have an answer.

“You know... when you love so much... you want them gone, because you think that’s what is going to happen anyway. That’s always the reason. No matter what.” He had confessed and hiccuped that I should never tell Jamie that and I mused on it for a few days, wondering if we were all just nervous of hurting ourselves in the end instead of the significant other, because we’re scared of our own break up rather than the other’s pain. Or maybe none of our loves were justified. But the more I watched Brian the more it seemed to lack logic yet have sense. Sense that he was breaking Jamie down and that he was fucked in the head and me and Jamie had forgotten what we had been, even if we would take baths, because feelings flee and lovers venture back.

And people leave our lives and it becomes like unfinished novels, as I look back at Alex.

The last time they had broken up on Valentine’s and it was ridiculously snowing and Jamie broke down crying on the street, already on the way home, when we had discussed it in a loud gay bar with bad cocktails and he couldn’t stop crying. And I had hugged him.

Feelings don’t flee.

I sit up to raid for cigarettes as I give Alex the opened box, as if I have cigarettes stashed everywhere. Alex takes one a bit confused.

“I love you.” I had told Jamie and it seemed to convey everything I’ve felt.


I'm actually sorry that this chapter is 400 words shorter than the usual but it's like 3.4 k and I wrote frankly all of it besides maybe the first few paragraphs in two sittings: yesterday and today. I'm having a manic episode so I'm a bit off and I binged the remaining 2.3 k in one sitting xD that's a lot frankly xD I just wanted to discuss many things and because it's mania, my mind focuses on one thing and I can't stop until well... I stop and writing is a good way to get rid of when it's at it's peak. It's quite bad mentally but I guess I am a bit better. 

I really wanted this out and I've been in love with this story.

It's a bit weird that I leave to pick up stories at a sex scene coz I kind of have to be in the right mindset so in those cases it's pretty much, dive in, get into the scene and start writing it until you're done xD and I always get very technical and it's very visual for me so sex scenes are always the ones I type slower and think what they would be doing. I also kept thinking that I think my sex scenes are maybe a bit too vanilla at time until I looked back and realized that not really, but I've been inserting a bunch of different stuff and I have the new BDSM milex story called So you can sink. So you can check that one. Also I've been just like anyone who is trans masculine ticked off at tumblr. So I've kind of been more keen to talk about gay men, because I'm tired that people think that it's easy. Ok, I'm jumping ahead.

I'm rather consious and paranoid regarding condoms and STIs and whatnot, so I kind of keep that because well, you should be very aware and whatnot. 

I dunno, I've been tired of bad sex scenes that's why I always try to make mine long and unique I guess, I dunno, maybe I'm too sexual. xD

I've had a lot of breath play in stories now that I look back, so nothing new and I think gay men rank #1 on breath play, so figures. Big death rates though, play safe. I think what always amused me I wasn't the last to lose my virginity and I always would get sad because when I was growing up, I was socialized well not as my gender obviously and I would get sad how many women would be either on one end of not orgasming, not enjoying or being far too revolted by sex, I barely knew anyone who actually liked it and it was seen as very deviant, so many things I've discovered obviously with Callie and whatnot, so I guess the stigma of straight cis sex being horrendous kind of comes from growing up and it being plain and boring. I mean, we all have things we might prefer over others, but I just found it sad and limiting to an enormous extent. So I kind of talk about raising here and stereotypes in this chapter, so I gave Miles my judgement I guess. 

What I like about this story is the whole because straight men are frankly the virginity when it comes to gay sex these days apparently, which is frankly annoying. Maybe I'm just too demisexual, so yeah, it's hot in a porn context, we all watch porn and then are like what. But there it's frankly and thankfully a roleplay, but it kind of slips onto real life and the whole chapter was based on well, then was it to be with a straight guy who never got kicked out of his house then? And that's why Miles' backstory unfolds entirely. 

Fight Club is such a gay movie. I can't. Anyway, moving on.

Me and Callie kind of I always speak of it, but not entirely, but no one really speaks that frankly all classes get kicked out, all get aliented and I get ticked off that people think that just in working class, you get kicked out. People don't realize that people just frankly go off just for their own sanity, to avoid abuse and torment from relatives and that they are people from different backgrounds. People really don't realize that you have to work instead of education and think of how do you squeeze hours and with this job market when you have no one behind your back it's tough. And what ticks me off is that people really avoid cases where people from higher classes just collapse, because well in my case it had to do a lot with xenophobia, but it's fucked up, I was told that I would just go on and on into uni and Miles discussing English Literature and being a writer, figuring it out something on the way, is I guess me openly discussing and touching my own personal story in a way. I had to give up because frankly my diploma got rigged and then I had to start all over again with Callie who had just moved in. No one talks of that, that you escape your families frankly not to get killed, not to get abused again and that it's a big shock, no one talks of that, no one talks and everyone just goes 'oh, gay men are priviliedged or NB as well'. No one realizes that you have to pay for your roof, for your food and there's two of you and you're fighting a diploma.

So that's why I give my characters deep background stories, because that's what happens.

You escape or you don't get accepted. 

Before I address Jamie's mental health I'll end on the relatives.

Theres this whole trend on the western world, US and UK specifically of having to come out and frankly you've got people and ads down your throat yelling come out come out it's safe, all my family rejected me, but it's good. And that fucks you up. Because it doesn't get better, you know if it's safe to come out, only you do and not some shitty ad. So I wanted to talk of that, because I don't want people to come out if it's not safe. No one should be obliged or shamed for staying in the closet for their relatives if it's for their sake, but that trend happened and destroyed lives, making youth homeless and suicidal. So that's why I took Jamie and Miles' stories in different periods, keeping my headcanon regarding Jamie in this story as well and making Miles' uni dreams collapse in a different way from my own. Thing is, you stop getting money obviously if your parents refuse you in that case, so then what? You lose your uni. Is that priviledged? Are you going to tell to my face that two homeless youths are not the same because one came from a priviliedged background? No one talks of the conservative parents which aren't working class. 

I have mania now, so I gave that to Jamie and I pretty much have Callie like Brian in this story, so I took that really.

There's this new Alison Mosshart interview, well, latest and she goes on and you see how she lives alone and I kind of found that interesting, the weirdest things inspire me, so I took that for Miles, since I've been with Callie for years now xD and we're very tight-knit kind of like Brian and Jamie in this story when they're on. So it was seeing something else, really and it was interesting, just like people are like imagine couples, I was like shit, is that how living alone is? And it felt odd, so yeah, I figured that's what I wanted for Miles in this story, but obviously with Brian and Jamie pouncing in xD

I way before I even talked of myself, I had a close friend and she was a lesbian and I remember I was revolted how people avoided her and she was a big Placebo fan, I remember we would talk for ages, but I wasn't really attracted to her (now I know why geez xD) and I remember I was told to stay away otherwise people would think I was gay too and would alienate from me as well, that revolted me and frankly, looking back, she's maybe the one person I would've kept in touch with, but I lost her number and whatnot, she changed schools and I'm not one to keep old friends and explain who I really am and all. Where I come from it's better to cut ties for your own sake.

And White Stripes' There's No Home For You Here plays as I thought of where I lived, oh well xD I knew that anyway xD


I come from frankly where there's an obsession with grandchildren and birthgiving, so speech is cissexist but it's the main arguement, children, not being able to reproduce. C'mon look at Volkova's speech, gay men are an abominations because they're not fertilizing women, but lesbians are okay. 

Civilization is falling because of homosexuality has got to be my favourite insult of all time.

One man, one woman, always. Quotes, quotes, quotes. 

I know I speak very freely regarding not having friends when I do have some, but I still find it hard, I get attached to people and then they end up being transphobic, because frankly those who you become really close with, in my case, please, unless you're ace frankly either you want to fuck or they want to fuck you and I kind of wanted to talk about that, because there's those cases where you're so close for the person with so long that you don't even know what to do anymore, because you're scared of losing and it becomes disasterous. And in my case I'm demisexual so my feelings show up in ages frankly xD sometimes up to years and I think this is the first story where I have an openly demisexual character, even if frankly I make many of my characters demisexual by default, I never really addressed it like now, since it becomes a bit of the confusion between Miles and Jamie here. 

Because the question is, if you get along why don't you date? That's something which caused an enoumorus dispute between me and my ex, who put friends above lovers, while I'm the radically opposite, keep your friends further, besides a few but then would it be platonic then? I don't know, then it becomes murky ground with those and I guess I wanted to discuss that and here I am xD 

I had this period, bathtubs aren't really a big thing in Sweden or at least in the apartments I've stayed and I remember when everything collapsed we were in hotels and I would always take baths and they would stop helping. Bathtubs were always the symbol when I can't take it anymore and I would lay there. So I used that.

I had that moment where I was like do I want to get them physical, but I decided that I need to address something else, this kind of relationship and I guess muse on it, so I used that, because I've got Alex and Matt in To Miles which did get physical, but I never had full on platonic and I'm sorry I don't know how I will deal with it later, but I tend to either break or make it sexual, being honest here, because I really want gay sex representation, I'm really sorry about that, so I'll see. But I wanted to explore that topic and shed light that well, you can love without physical, platonic really for a good extend without saying or explaining, that doesn't devalue your feelings, really. But in this case they're both very scared I guess and it's interesting because what they feel for Alex and Brian is different, but I really don't want any friendship bullshit, they're fucked up and they're trying to figure out their feelings and frankly they confessed, so no fucking just friends, really.

I think I am a bit weird, we're all weird with our idols, but yeah, unshaved Jamie is precious and etc. I think I talked enough, I'll fanboy now xD

I think the whole talk was based off because I had this guy who was going after me and he actually asked Callie if we were a thing, when we weren't so yeah xD

I dunno, I really love Brian in this story and I actually wanted to show how he and Miles are friends in a way, because they both have Jamie as an important figure in their life. I know, this chapter really focuses on the backstory to shed light on the actual contrast and I guess flip side to the fantasy. I'm a fucker, I know xD I'll go on Alex as well and well, let's be realistic it is s'posed to be complicated and it's not easy. Fuck you if you think otherwise.

I always dream of people I like, I'm honest in my dreams. So I used that.

The hoodie is a mock from me because there's a few occasions where Jamie stated that he doesn't wear hoodies, but he had and I even felt like doing a photoset of that, but I'm not that much of a fucker xD

I'm demi, so it took me a while to realize how deep my feelings for Callie were and it was weird, because we had confessed to everyone that we had no intentions of dating and bffs for ever and ever and we were sulking on the side, so I had taken that. And of course you have confessions like that.

This chapter nearly made me cry and I read it out to Callie later and she went under the covers and was nearly crying. I dunno, I just love it and it's kind of divided in three parts: 1. sex 2. coming out 3. platonic love really. So yeah, since it's so big and I wanted to keep it big so here it is 8) and I'm still nearly crying.

I love Brian's honesty and how fucked up he is, I dunno, he looks like the guy who fucks up and then confesses up front, but fucks up all the time, so that's my headcanon and I love Brian here. I really really really love Brian here.

I dunno, I'm rather explicit on the story and I like how it built up and explains, so obviously I'm missing bits which are self-explained like Brian and Miles' talk. I always ship everyone with Jamie. I'm sorry, but in this case it was planned out and yeah, sorry and it was also a contrast and backstory for Alex and Miles. I can guarantee no To Miles, don't forget Brian/Jamie is my OTP. I get paranoid that people don't like Jamie in my stories, honestly xD

Abuse fucks you up, you don't think that people can love you, so I had a hard time in life accepting love in the beginning and I kind of wanted to touch that and give it to Brian here, really.

I liked the "feelings flee and lovers come back line" a lot and I kept it because it's pretty and good, even if Miles disagrees with it a few lines later. (It's so fucking late and I want this up with a good backstory xD). I find it weird that we lose people and lovers, well, the lovers fucked up, but it's really weird and it happens, so it was addressed.

I like how Alex pops in fast, confused. And yeah, I'm not telling anything and we all know that my characters have a mind of their own xD

And yeah, I cry regarding the last line because it's obvious at times and conveys everything you'll ever feel.

Thank you and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I did and please please tell me if you did, I'm barely sleeping tonight coz I wanted this up xD