Friday, 8 May 2015

And it's a dull Monday 3

Come back to me and please be the one I want.

And I wonder if everything is told, when you know how everything ends that each evening has a panic attack at the exact time and photos will be taken hectically and all the wonders of life will dawn to remind themselves and then the hassle of the exhibition will start taking place, of smoking and wondering if there should be photos or people which shouldn’t make the cut. And I don’t know how to get rid of him physically, because we all stutter and we don’t know how to say bye to the people we already have. To not kiss those which we haven’t in years.

“Why does my ex have more followers than me in Instagram?” I say, looking at the profile then back at Karen. “And why does it bother me?”

“You have more on Facebook, at least which you’ve met.” She replies and I grumble.

Music was something which we couldn’t grasp or notice in one photo and it became something which I felt I could never fully comprehend, how people would go over it instead of capturing the moment and probably that’s why I had found some relationships hard because it would take time for them to develop and it would take years to fully comprehend what had you heard and what would make entire sense when fully looped. And it was as if when it came to relationships I would never have the negatives to develop all over again.

I wondered at times, if life would keep looking on the same dailies and the fact that all had been behind me and taking things from the past, did that mean that I had started becoming nostalgic and it was something cathartic? 

And it’s as if when you concentrate enough you can remember a more dull cigarette haze of the night, when we had asked to be roommates and how we would avoid parties which people would make a big deal. Jack had stopped dating girls for a brief while and I simply felt no attraction and we would sit in our room, to make sure our drunk state wouldn’t clash with someone else’s beer pong. It was an odd sense of elevation as I had felt happy and he had been sitting there, reading something, I would only remember the taste of the room as I had told him I would start heading off, solely because my heart had started beating far too fast. I couldn’t sleep and that’s when he sat on my bed and we started talking on how we felt miserable, escalating our feelings as his fingers had been in my hair and I pretended to mumble whilst being excited. The night pushed even further and I remember it started to reach daylight, but Jack still sat there and I wondered if you can push the past to tell you the things you’ve done.

You’ll always loop the same memories until they become boring for the others to hear and that’s when the colours never faint in the head, but there’s no one to tell when you become depressed.

Looking back, I wonder on all the situations where I had been with other men and how I had held myself back, before Jack or when things had been going nowhere and I wonder why had the reluctance of self-acceptance keep pushing me back.

The right song will remind you of high school departure and knowing that you’ll be together in university as it snows in dreams and you can’t find each other on the streets.

And it was odd looking back that me and Jack had held the same awkwardness we had held years ago, as he came out once, entirely drunk and saying that I had been the first man he had kissed, back when we had been locked away in our room, making rain more than an excuse to stay inside and we had shared our first kiss, which had torn the wallpapers down and I could feel his body shaking, rough grip as if I would vanish like a mirage. That everything he could’ve known was finally gone, like the midnight snacks, that a delight would vanish and life surely couldn’t be as tempting as our mind was drawing us to. And he had confessed, that he had loved me and many years later in the same manner he had proposed and we had laid on the kitchen floor, watching life resolve and believe that we had known each other as much as we had known the arrival of death, the pearl hood and the long scythe which would cause us to laugh, because we both wanted to laugh when our life would be taken away, because when you’ll recall all your life, it becomes a coda and I knew that we would both be laughing-

And I had told him I loved him, 

I had told him I’d be his husband.

And the first night it was us making out and barely touching each other clumsily making sure the memory was stained with age school confusion.

What if we just go to the people we had trusted because maybe they would maybe know how to pull us out of our misery and Karen seems to be absorbed away in her job as all I can think of is the exposition for this time and it’s a bit of an odd feeling when you look back when it actually mattered what had you done. Now not so much, stability becomes a bit of a bore and allows other things to realize, like what can you do to actually force yourself to change your car with extra small jobs since you’re not giving up on the takeaways you get through the week. It’s calm but it ends up exposing a simplicity of the mind and after all, it’s all we’ve wanted but it exposes the lonely edges in the night. And it becomes worse because it becomes a reminder that maybe they were irreplaceable after all. 

In the end she leaves and I promise to call her later, whenever I’ll need to and neither of us know that I’ll be calling and I end up smoking far too much in a row, not even bothering to go through the photos and slowly starting to decide if maybe some people should be excluded even if they are in my life.

I don’t know why I get turned on before sleep, probably ends up being something close to the fact that when you’re a teenager, even if I haven’t been one in a quite a while and in the end, sometimes even the oddest things seem to be thrilling. I end up taking my phone in pure darkness, opening Grindr for the hell, not too keen on having anyone over but I don’t mind waking in someone’s couch or even escaping before the night ends, so I end up opening the few messages I hadn’t opened. It’s somewhere around where the vision is still blurry and reason has more than tucked in deep that when asked again why I did it, I would ask that I have no idea. 

I ended up in some odd conversation with some guy who had a photo of a chair, stating that he’d want someone to just come and fuck him, no strings attached. Those usually kept their word as I had always felt guilty for not wanting anything else if someone’s wallpapers were plastered with bad photos of exes or back when they had wives and I ended up being some Christmas misfortune for the wife. And those had been my Grindr experiences, which frankly don’t fall far from a bar hook up. And maybe it’s some odd cathartic desire of ending something before it ends you. 

So I end up trying my luck and even taking a cab, too sleepy to drive anywhere, pressing my head against the glass, watching the money go away from my pocket, as I just zipped my leather jacket, wondering why had I even agreed to something like that. But it was just like anyone would want a drink by the end of the day and I could count the day’s last hours, closing my eyes to be awakened by the taxi driver, who I had thought that I was driving to a girlfriend to apologize or something rather than to shag someone just because I felt like it. And we will never find a loss as big as everything in life.

The door is naturally unlocked, but I knock anyway, feeling a bit odd and instantly checking for photos of any married evidence, but instead I kick my boots off, locking the door and unzipping the jacket on the way, feeling the condom in the pocket as I ended up making my way into the kitchen instead of the bedroom or bathroom which could also be a classic option. I end up going to the bedroom, as the guy is face down, hair neatly trimmed, apparently new and tied up, each limb to a bed leg. A bit too uncomfortable, but with him entirely exposed is what gets me going. He’s a bit too trying to be built for my liking and I get an odd sleepy sense of deja vu, but I shrug it off. The guy doesn’t even bother to turn around, as I slowly undress, already my body more excited than my mind. I open the wrapper as he quickly wants to glance, but holds. 

I don’t know if we should even converse, so I don’t say anything, kissing the back of his neck, my chest tightening and my body goes cold. 

I look around.

No photos and I seem to be the protegé as the cheating choice. I spread him and slide in, knowing the pain he likes and expects it and my mind still goes blank, digging my nails into his shoulders, both of us gasping. The strings are in our minds, pulling us, as if we had been in a photo again.

It felt as if it was a plea for holding onto the past more than anything else, because how many people do even want to face their past again on a daily basis, when we innocently think that we will be forgotten, because you can never forget that time you had sprained your wrist and the first taste you had felt of getting your eyes yanked open, that maybe the meaning of life was something we shouldn’t comprehend and be far more selfish riding our own emotions and steps on how to make something work when we had no guide, no rules and no instructions just intuition and false assumptions of the people we loved, because in the end we would love reflections, never knowing how it actually was on the other side and pounding the mirror with our firsts instead of approaching the person who shed the reflection, because our ignorance is bliss. We can never lie to ourselves, we will always tell the harshest truth, because we already live knowing our endings. 


Originally I was going to write even more for this chapter and to be honest, I might still add at the point I'm writing this backstory, but just like any backstory I pretty much open up and muse on the depths of what had inspired me. Today I ended up dreaming of the first person I had dated which was an utter mess and many relationships later it still ranks the worst relationship I've had and I dream about him maybe once every few years because I was frankly destroyed after it and I pretty much was played for a number of years and it was only prior to a few days when I started dating Callie that I ceased contact for good. I don't talk of it often because it had been so long ago and that relationship barely influences any stories, but when it comes to this one, I guess the thoughts were looking back on something very painful and I don't share the leftover feelings Jamie and Jack have here for sure and I think the parallel comes because for Jamie Jack had been the person who was there for a number of years and he had been like that for me because I was very lonely and it was back when I really had no one and I was really an outsider, so frankly for me anyone who even heard of Radiohead was good enough unfortunately. Sp maybe more parallels would be done because I really have to yank out something painful for this story and even then, I'd have to pretty much sit and recall everything because it's been years and years ago now. The last conversation was the usual note of you meant a lot, but now I know I fucked up and I'm telling you this now. It was also when I was writing 13 is an Utopia which is my only published novel to date (I would never do this now, I really want my writings free) and I was really looking back at that age and he had shown up. So I guess he kind of stuck to that a bit so maybe that's why I recalled it for this story. 

The dream had been something among the usual come back to me but never spoken and it was odd because I had Callie and other people being just as confused and me pretty much not even engaging in conversation and praying that he'd go away. I guess one of the things also when you come out you start pondering on other things, like what about my previous partners? Because he was frankly... awfully flamboyant and I think anyone's gaydar would've seen it, but at the same time I felt rather female and trapped in that relationship and I had been female in my life, but the more I look at past relationships where I'd always been told that I was like a boyfriend or that I was special, not like any of the girls and many things were really odd in all my relationships, kind of makes me wonder was I ever female then? What was I in those relationships then? So in a case I still obviously go over my gender, looking back, wondering if maybe my exes still dated a man and where did my gender start really because I could be one gender at the time, but another in a relationship. I hope this is interesting to read as a back story xD I just felt like making a good back story today since we are discussing if you had to meet your exes frankly. And it's kind of odd because even if I already don't want to meet those people, I still don't want them to know who I am and going through the "wait, you're a man" and etc. 

Funnily enough this story ended up on another ex, obviously. When I start writing a story, I frankly freak the shit out if it's good, do people read it (if I haven't gotten any feedback yet and this story falls under those xD) and etc etc frankly even if I see the stats and how many people have read it. I become daft even I know people read it apparently xD so I end up sometimes getting scared and I hold until some idea decides to frankly shatter me and then I don't hold and I simply can't stop writing XD and one of them was when my instagram was rather small and I had checked my exes instagram and I had asked Callie the same question. (Follow me on instagram, I'm @noplasticdolltails admire my flamboyant sailor aesthetic and make up looks, I love my make up). 

I had pushed the story further solely because I loved it and I was freaking out because I didn't know where to make it go and I went on and the grindr idea frankly came because I think of sex too much frankly and I had the idea before I went to bed or rather fell asleep xD 

Karen and Jamie would be my brotp because I love them in To Miles and that kind of came here, I guess.

I also get nervous because frankly I'm just a freelancer and I don't really get much exposure and I'm kind of used to this lifestyle naturally so I end up giving that to characters which are set in these days like the No. 1 Party Anthem/We've All Been Broken universe really or Blue/Jacket has a different one because I was capturing how it felt just moving to Stockholm back when me and Callie lived there xD since we're elsewhere in Sweden :) (ooooh, where is itttt xD) 

I think the story speaks for itself now xD

I wrote this story which is half on the blog called Ladder to the Red Moon Gathering and it was the story I would refer to the most and the pearl/death sort of metaphors was something I dragged onto other stories and I had used in this one. The pearls were frankly taken from Naked Lunch which was a metaphor for sperm and I had taken it for a deeper meaning which I shoved in that story and ended up taking that for other stories, just explaining now xD

I also wanted to talk more I guess on stability and how it feels because prior I never really discussed it and I wanted a bit of a more bored Jamie for this story since he's a bit more melancholic than I am, actually I'm not melancholic I end up taking all I can and I work all the time xD even if frankly it's nice to stand on ground finally and frankly you just get more stuff to do and thinking about everything but you do get at that point where you go... fuuuuck, this is good xD and of course, but I can really say that kind of coming from all disasters and frankly moving countries alone with solely Callie I'm happy and yeah. 

I think the scene was because I was actually wondering if I was making sex as explicit as I enjoy it actually (not that I cruise, I'm too demisexual for this) and kind of go a bit more into BDSM and etc, like I've been really pushing hypoxyphilia into my stories because frankly I love it so yeah, so I kind of wanted a bit more... sex really which is odd to say because there's so much already XD

I don't think (when I'm sleepy and resonable) that you're forgotten by people because life proves otherwise, we're never forgotten, we just stop being talked about maybe, but never lost in the thoughts and I ended up writing that last paragraph after starting the back story.

I hope you enjoyed this and last note, my tumblr graspthesanity got deleted to false copyright claims and I even ended up in an ugly discussion where I was asked to reveal my address and was awfully gross. Now I have a new tumblr called thelastwaltzing and please follow it and I will gladly resume conversation there or here :) or any other platforms :)

thank you so much for your support



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