Monday, 31 August 2015

And it's a dull Monday 5

Kind of realizing that someone might just still be into men, makes the box you haven’t even opened (the key never locked anything) become a can of worms. It doesn’t make sense why you’re rehashing everything and then that starts including even crushes and realizing how many people had queer thoughts and had surely wanted to bone you. That makes me feel uncomfortable and throws me back into high school, without the drama and without being a teenager but eating the confetti of discarded feelings and instead of does he love me it becomes a fuck, is he queer then? And what the fuck would that have changed? How different would I have acted and was the friendship actually queer at all?

The last night in my apartment had been those thoughts and frustration because sometimes you’re the one who cuts off people and sometimes people cut you off as well and even if you’ll be in their post-mortem memories and if the afterlife is the faces of all the people they’ve known, you’ll be there

but you’ll never know why they stopped talking to you. And I couldn’t find Brian’s profile once I realized it.

And his scent goes up my nose and does from while to while as if I don’t miss him enough.

When it comes to apartments you wonder if the one you had wanted originally is too much and what is too much, how much are you worth for an apartment and what is again too much and too little? 

And by the end of the day I can’t find anything and I know that Alison is out of town. I open the said Grindr profile, rubbing my eyes together, knowing far too many people who have couch surfed successfully or ended up stealing a friend’s place for a while. I put my phone in my mouth, waiting for some reaction, holding it with my teeth. I take it out before it vibrates and end up gagging on it somehow. 

He doesn’t reply and I just keep messaging everything, realizing that I’d have to store away everything in storage anyway and I just thank the Lord for not having to pack too much, since you end up moving every few months anyway. I end up packing before sunrise and that’s when the phone vibrates to me and I stand scratching my cheek, not even bothering to update Karen and knowing the long day ahead with all the trips to storage again. 

I start in the morning without sleep and it’s not even the loss of an apartment which causes my hands to tremble, but the fact that I’ll see him and how confusing it is that life becomes a novel after a novel, that it never sticks to one plot and the summary will never match what actually ends up happening, that it only tells how it starts and then you’ll never know, that’s what would intrigue me as a child far too much, how come all of this happened and how come too many things had entities and filled with magic. But I’d fall asleep before I’d get to the second and sometimes I miss the bed, I miss how it had been smaller, how I’d have teddy bear covers and how I would be idly miserable. I wonder if I’d be proud of myself now, if I would happy with the salary, with the possibilities and still lack of stableness. What would I tell myself, the older self because I’d be more interested if at least some part of me, even younger than me loved me. I wonder if I would still doubt myself and that sticks to me, have I disappointed myself for giving up? And when did I ever give up? Why does it feel that way?

But then maybe we all have miserable, repetitive lives? If that’s what misery is with the ode to a never ending routine cycle with the same amount of friends you hang up on the phone to. If it had been easier I wouldn’t end up getting so manic about seeing everyone again and realizing that the numbness will still not go away no matter how much I’ll rub my wrists together. Seeing people makes you lonelier and just enhances such feelings. Sometimes nothing rubs off and the world will be dull through any kaleidoscope until it’s taken away. I wonder if Jack will take the black and white kaleidoscope away again, because I feel like there’s nothing else to life if I go back to exes which make me feel at least something. 

Maybe we shouldn’t tell anyone anything because well miss them, maybe we should’ve never talked. I regret everything without wanting to change anything that I even find myself on the brink of rereading Catcher in the Rye for the gay subtext and actual depth. By the end of the day you’ll find out everything you’ve read is pretty gay enough.

There is only so much past you can just rethink and be nostalgic about and just like reliving it, the colours ran out again until you can’t scrub them anymore. But somehow mine never seem to run out. I seem to deeply regret the whole project, just thinking about it makes me ill and as I pack away, I just unpack the photos I had done already with all the near misses of exes, lost friends, even those who never grasped the fact that I was gay, those who did and by the end of the day there’s not even that many photos because I don’t really have that many Facebook friends I talk to, but it ends up being a lot as I unpack those which I had labelled insignificant with dates that had lasted nearly less than a minute with them posing for the photos. I pack all the photos in a place where I can reach them, realizing that Jack most likely would end up asking me to see them. 

I end up going to the storage far too many times with an upcoming scan, feeling my knees weak and listening to the hissing of the landlord for all the time as I’m getting the boxes in the elevator and telling myself that it’s just words and by the end of the day I’ll send the same template e-mail saying that it’s all the same, nothing was done in the contract and it ends up being the same. I end up staying behind and removing stains which were there already, but why not bother a former tenant? 

I leave much later that I have to ride the train with a huge box to Jack’s because storage is closed, my whole body still shaking from the experience I could only feel my hands from, pressing my head against the window, wishing that I would somehow feel safe again and wondering when would I even find an apartment and how long would it take again for a landlord to go bonkers again? Even when you nag online everyone had heard of the housing crisis but the problem remains why doesn’t anyone do anything about it when shelter is such a simple thing to provide, it’s not like anyone even dreams about it for free anymore, no matter how much money you’re willing to throw away, you won’t find anything and you’ll be stuck on a couch or in some place with an abusive landlord if lucky. 

By the time I get to Jack’s it feels as if I hadn’t left that night and ended up sleeping on his couch all curled up and he just welcomes me in. Maybe I’m not the only one left entangled in the past. And sitting on the train, I finally get a feeling of loss of having no apartment again and nearly as usual. 

I start thinking of all the people who have deleted their facebook through the years, as I wondered which ones of them had been because of me as some fall into people I’ve fallen out with, who had decided to block me after years like a friend turned hook up which had blocked me. I didn’t get the chance to mourn them until I had seen that they had deleted when I was going down the list, recalling old mates and classmates which had left without goodbye. Do we rely on facebook to keep in contact then? Does it become a metaphor of leaving people behind then? 

The thought keeps trailing in my mind, making ripples and they keep hitting my walls, all these minutes as I hear Jack cleaning up whatever in his apartment, putting the box down and the insides of my soul shred by just thinking that it’s all over again and I’m back with my ex with none of our tongues down anyone’s throats. I don’t even know why can’t life just end. I wished my entire life that the credits would roll and everything else would be calm, but somehow that would never happen no matter how I would try. What happens is that it keeps rolling and rolling and I don’t even think there’s an audience left anymore, but they’re still showing when they’ve cleaned the cinema and we’re long past the due date. 

I get the said box in with the suitcase filled with the photos, clothes and all the essentials as Jack just looks at me a bit sad and I can only pray that it’s because of the whole apartment crisis and I wonder how long would it take me to find a stashed photo of his girlfriend or is it wife now? How much had I missed? My brain is slowly turning off and I realize how thirsty I am from all the carrying, my body aching and I still can’t feel my hands properly from all the scrubbing. I try not to think of it far too much, but my head keeps spinning and I just look at my ex. It’s not even that it’s an awful idea, it’s the fact that I would have nowhere to go and I managed to find a solution due to my loneliness, stupidity and this project which scares me. Why don’t the credits roll and why can’t life be much simpler without missing people? Why do we even speak to others? Why do we fall in love isn’t even in consideration. Why do we speak?


I actually wrote this yesterday (but thought I'd get to sleep earlier today so left it for today and failed, it's late as fuck xD) but I really wanted this up

It was hard to write it, but I ended up writing it in chunks and actually finished it this morning :)

I've been awfully tired so I've nostalgic of older things and kind of reading on what it is to have a 20 year old middle age crisis which I had given Jamie here and mused on it myself. Some symptoms made sense, but I guess I've just been far too anxious or depressed, I get confused between all my symptoms xD

I kind of had a bunch of crusades due to apartment searching and I'd get asked and told why don't I write about it, even if I touch it briefly so this story got the full treatment on how hard it is and how frankly traumatized you leave. Also how hard it is to find anything at all as well.

I was really sad about mybrbie from tumblr deleting so I started musing on all the people which eventually delete and how you just lose contact because they deleted you from facebook, exes or not, how easy it is to frankly get rid of someone. So I ended up musing on old relationships which had fallen apart.

Eh, this ended up rather short coz I ended up summarizing everything rather fast xD

I hope it wasn't too bad xD

I hope you enjoyed it, if you did, please please tell me

Thank you



Thursday, 27 August 2015

and it takes a while

I dreamt that night, as if I had forgotten, everything as if it were all one crumbled up lost day in my childhood. Fear had been strangling me, all comparisons gone as I couldn’t even walk, but I dreamt on, just like life, it would go on, you can never stop the clock even if you break it, even if you break down people will still do things, no one will listen and no one will pretend that the day is finally gone no matter how horrid it had been, everything is written and everything remains as such in a catastrophic manner. 

I had kissed him, I had seen him on the stage, wondering how many people had decided to come see us despite their own accusations that homosexuality was wrong. I wondered how many were in the audience every day, the thought ended up winding me until I couldn’t even process properly through a sea of haze which I had inflicted onto myself. Because I could change a queer kid’s or two’s life around, but how much could I really do? If the general population thought me to be wrong

How many of them were here to listen to a popular band?

How many?

And scanning the crowd gave me no answer, as the moment ended up being stolen by my own vanity of kissing an old lover I had never laid my hands upon. 


I was musing the past few days how I missed the short format I had held back when I just started writing fanfiction rather aggressively on this blog xD and I was like okay, well, that should come to me naturally xD and it did, I was actually going to post a chapter of something else today, but I ended up staring at the photo of Brian and Stefan making out as a protest in Lithuania, where they protested quite a few years ago

It stands out to me not just that act but that it was done in front of a homophobic relative of mine and that still strikes as significant, that they had done it in front of someone who yeah, I think I've been open enough about it

And I just wanted to write something and I was terrified writing it so maybe that's why it's small but I dropped it at the moment I actually wanted it to end xD So yeah 

I kind of wanted to capture that because it was such an amazing and loud statement between Stefan and Brian and it became personal for me. I also wanted to play as if it had been their first, sort of making it a bit AU, we all know they fucked. And the ending is about how in end it narrows down to two people and I also think that's what it was to Brian for a split second during the kiss before it becoming political again.

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, tell me so, you'll make this nervous thing's day xD

thank you :3



Monday, 24 August 2015

it's either you or me

Life becomes a tackless routine as the days come after another like dominos, as they feel sped up once you know what’s going on. I just regret not smoking before heading inside the station, but all is supposed to be left alone and I’m supposed to ride the train for even longer. I should’ve at least dragged a bit from Jamie, but instead I had been too pissed in the morning because I ended up buying milk with cereal and that ended in a small dispute whether I should be drinking milk in the first place. Jamie just bitterly drank his black coffee and we had left, soon to depart our days with small jobs until the evening where I’d get stoned and Jamie would get drunk and then we would somehow scramble some peace.

Jamie’s still taller than me, as he looks around and I just don’t even dare to look his direction again, before I see someone tall standing out, as if swimming among the people with bleach blonde hair. I forget the small dispute and I grab Jamie’s sleeve as he still seems a bit pissy, but follows to what I’m pointing to.

“That’s Stefan, he used to be in school with me. Some popular jock-” I pause, glancing at my boyfriend. “Hey, look he’s with a guitar.”

“Then, maybe approach him?” Jamie asks a bit lukewarm, watching the tall Swede mind his own business. He glances back at me and I know we will still be bitchy for the rest of the day and I’ll most likely be sipping the milk to piss him off. He looks at me and maybe I should leave after all, at least until we both cool down. Jamie just sighs, fixing his long fringe. “I mean, he’s your old classmate, plus he doesn’t look like he’s jerking off to football, anyway.”

I glance at his dark green eyes, maybe I’m the only one being angry at my own sudden decision to at least become vegetarian. 

This year all of a sudden all the months mix up as if they’re all round and a spider web, holding nothing but dead moths which hold no meaning to what day it may be, boring me in a melancholic way with no meaning and just twirling me into confusion and lust for something I cannot understand. It feels as if I want to scream to change something, but the idea of meeting new people scares me and so does sticking with the old which end up being my boyfriend solely and for the first time in years I regretted not having friends. The newfound desire would spiral in odd ways, there were days where I wouldn’t care and I could spend the whole day locked up with Jamie, speaking, both of us in a drunk haze, slowly getting drunk on cheap wine, allowing the alcohol to slowly carry off the anxiety we would both hold and remind us that in misery we are never alone.

I wondered why I had felt lonely and even when we had met up with other people or sitting in university, even while talking, I would still feel like I had a glass wall around me filled with fear of not doing the assignments as well as my boyfriend had done. 

I wondered when had I felt so detached all of a sudden. I still waited for him to look at me and I just smiled at Jamie, before catching his growing small smile and I headed off to see Stefan for the first time after school, when falling leaves still meant a season and not a fucked up winter with the wrong birds. 

Life takes no direction, as I see Stefan notice me and it takes him a bit less than a moment to register who may I be and he smiles. It still feels odd and for him to see me with lazy morning make up I had worn over Jamie’s shoulder back home, I’m not my best and he’s seen me in it, but it still brings chills down my spine when people see me for who I am and specifically now in London with Jamie nearby under my arm. 

It becomes an odd question of how come you even end up meeting someone from a different country in an entirely different place? The whole idea that it is an old classmate makes it even worse, recalling the bullying and all the names due to wearing make-up and frankly confirming all gay rumors to be true as I was growing up. After all it’s not like I’m anyone known these days, all I am is a prancing fairy across London and that’s nothing which I can be proud of to show off, unlike being a star like I would grow up with all such thoughts in my head. 


I'll be honest and say that I've only written Molsdal as a secondary pairing only and once until now. I've shipped them, I love them both frankly, but I never quite ended up actually getting down to writing about them, which is frankly weird. 

The idea of actually writing it came from talking and I was asked about writing Molsdal and that just... stuck to my head and I couldn't get it out and I just started writing in the middle of the day, so this was roughly done in two proper sittings or so. I just started thinking that I'd love to do a take on what I think happened, I get a kick out of doing hyper realistic stories of some pairing before I move onto an AU, so I guess Molsdal AUs ahead xD 

I'm listening to the first album as I'm writing this and I was going to write more, but I love the ending here even if it's a tad bit short. 

I've been having awfully heavy anxiety and panic attacks, so it ended up being really hard to write and I finally sort of sat down and went... okay, Jamie, go write what you feel, how bleak and I kind of just ended up shooting that in the story and I guess or hope that's what makes it realistic. 

I randomly forgot that Brian was vegetarian back in the 90s and kind of rediscovering that fact I guess that made it's way in here. I like the argument and I'm quite pleased with it's next to... nonsense here. 

I think I'm too distracted by listening to Placebo xD

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please tell me so, I'll be very very grateful and any words of support are more than welcome because I'm not feeling too well

Thank you



Thursday, 20 August 2015


It’s a bit ironic that we put so much emphasis on conversation when it all leads to a sole physical. My mind ends up rolling back and forth and I can only call myself a groupie at this point. At this point. It feels odd, just like on bad days you wait for everything to go away miraculously somehow, it so happens that when good things happen you have no explanation for them either. 

And now it’s like I don’t even have time to hyperventilate, all I can do is try and relax in the moment. I can’t even recall what we were even talking about, besides seeing him outside the gig much later, when everyone had left. It was a touch job to wait with all of the fangirls which pretty much keep squealing Alex’s name for hours on end. The difference was that I figured that even standing in the back yet with all supplies such as water was smarter as they would all, the monkeys, head out, sign, go back in, get hammered and walk out again hours later when everyone would flee and they had enough alcohol to forget the gig. 

By the end of it, for some reason people think there’s some sort of virtue, but in reality I just want to get laid by Alex Turner and that’s where it all leads to really, I think the only nod I got on my end was Matt staring at me as me and Alex were discussing the new album, that for some reason neither of us could shut up and it’s that moment when all of your skin is stretched and electrified along with the combination of Matt’s stare that maybe I had been doing something right. 

It takes a flicker of trust in someone else’s eyes to know you’re doing everything right, because after all, any moron can start talking about the album and get a vinyl signed or something, but it ends up that the same syllables said to someone else will cause a different reaction in you. 

Maybe it’s the eyeliner, how it looks on me, maybe it’s the tight pants or that I look queer for a change, which is a wild goose chase in guessing, but we’ve all got to try and get into someone’s pants for a change than our own. 

I look at his slicked back hair and I preferred him younger with the quiff, but it’s surely nothing for me to brag about and I just keep my mouth shut as he slowly signs the CD (vinyl was too big to carry). But it’s really something within us which makes us walk up to people on the first day of school to actually talk to and even hook up even later. The rest of the band are already slowly drifting off and I presume they have their own course of actions where to even go to, which would be excluding me, unless I speak out.

“Is it okay if I invite you for a pint or something?” I ask Alex and that’s when he just fixes his eyes on me and I don’t even pay attention to what would the other band members reply to any groupie request, all I’m doing is staring into an older dog’s eyes and waiting for a reaction. He hands me the album back, nodding.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” And that’s when the stars align, the moment which you’ll tattoo on your wrist and wonder what the hell was wrong with you that you could even wonder that something could’ve gone wrong since the horoscope did indeed mean that everything would go the way you wanted, as it was simply an action of picking up the Metro in the morning, riding the bus around to somehow fall asleep and dreaming of an applause. 

In a split second you can die or be reborn, technically a second can mean anything.

We end up departing from the rest of the band, which means more than anything that I’ve succeeded and I can only pray from now that it’s truly because he’s at least queer enough for me to lay in bed with him, as we walk past the dark streets dipped heavily in the night, holding only dimmed lights which hold peak of sleep for many now. But then everything comes out at night and we fool ourselves to believe that it’s safer to wonder when no one is out even if you can be anonymous in a crowd. And every single problem will come back like a pendulum, like disappointing parents who think that men are created to breed and if that moment doesn’t come, then all is wasted. 

I try to wash that off, like I would in the morning with foam and it’s hard not to think of what happens to everyone’s mouth to say such things when you’re about to fuck if lucky.

I just recall drinking not because I’m thirsty, but because my tongue keeps trailing on and on, how much his music had meant to me since I was small, that I recall how my boyfriend had tried to get me into Arctic Monkeys but it just wasn’t my cup of tea when he would make out with me under the bleachers and other girls were hand in hand over the bleachers and introduced to his relatives. That all would come and go, but I’d always be the one pinned down to the bed and truly desired. And that had caused me to drink even more as he would watch me, amused that I had somehow ended up nagging about my life and so it happened that the band didn’t stick to me until we had broken up-

A shot of tequila down my throat

And I wanted to recall how was it to be a teenager again and I had tried Favourite Worst Nightmare again, because I had felt that I had missed something and it ended up being the right break up record I had needed. And he had listened to the things even I would not confess to myself-

A shot of tequila down my throat again, reminding me of those tequila and floor jokes-

It slices my insides that I end up coughing. 

“I went through a rough break up as well-”

“Yeah, y-you kind of state that.” I say, nearly hiccuping and I can feel my feet slowly give in, even as I’m sitting, but he just keeps looking at me and all I can think of is how come he’s not drinking enough, and I seem to be.

“So, I’m happy that it had helped you with your boyfriend.” Alex had smiled and his hair was already starting to get out of place and I am drunk enough to look a bit lower than where his eyes are and to desire him somehow again. I’ve desired him enough in the bedroom, spinning all the records and muffling my cries of finishing against the pillow to be padded later on to the walls, to make sure my mom wouldn’t hear. He reminded me of everything I could’ve been. 

“Yeah, I wish you’d help with my next boyfriend, too.” I say and I wonder how come words still come out of my mouth and I feel brave, leaning a bit closer across the table. How did we even get here? 

“I’m a bit older, actually-” Maybe the alcohol got to him as well.

“Who said you can’t be my daddy or whatever?” I don’t think alcohol will cut it now, I start raiding my jeans for my box of cigarettes, but my hands don’t necessarily go in my pockets. I find them after crumbling them out of my jeans. “Y-you’re rich and all-”

“I’m pretty sure you’d sleep with me anyway.” He mocks me and I light the cigarette, while wobbling. I’m hard as well. 

“Yeah, but think of the age-”

“I didn’t decline. I’ll be your daddy-”

“I always thought the term was sugar daddy.” I chew on the cigarette, inhaling and trying to do a ring. “Since you’ll be -”


At this point as usual I have no title, so bear with me xD

The idea came from the fact that Jazz (the-age-of-the-shadow-monkeys) got a prompt regarding making Miles Alex's sugar daddy and then that ended up with me discussing it with Callie how I kind of wanted something reverse, because I'm a bit too vers sometimes I guess xD and I just couldn't get that idea out of my head, so I pretty much talked to both and ended up writing it xD

I just had the imagery of Miles going after musician Al and that just really stuck to me, kind of groupie-esque and then to escalate really.

I've been struggling with writing due to my anxiety and it just keeps going round and round in my head, so that's why I really wanted to have this chapter out because I really worked hard and bit myself down to hold the anxiety and pretty much had to repeat that it's not bad, that it will be liked, hopefully, if to strictly speak honestly. This backstory is quite hard to squeeze out, even if it's slowly loosening me and it's easier.

I guess a big inspiration was just meeting The Kills back in the day and just that overwhelming feeling of actually meeting Jamie Hince, who I admire to the core. I didn't meet after a gig though xD this was just me musing out loud

In general I have awful self-esteem and I kind of start projecting on myself from what I see, how attraction builds up in other people and try to understand that the same works with people which like me as well, that's where the scene takes its roots from.

Also life ends up throwing good things at you with no explanation and that's how they feel, illogical.

I get scared of being repetitive, so I'm sorry if the backstory is shorter. I was musing on the whole debate since it's the biggest argument against homosexuality which I grew up with, which was frankly that 'they can't reproduce' and that was the catastrophe of it all and I recalled the whole Volkova speech of "men are born to breed" and that kind of gave that sentence to life here.

The whole boyfriend being into Arctic Monkeys was something I had and I kind of went in depth with that and how I had been shown FWN which is actually my favourite album now, really. It's quite hard to step over memories at first, but then it's as if it's given a harsher, brighter glow because you defeated it really.

My mind goes crystal clear when I'm drunk and daring.

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please tell me so because I'm not in the best of places right now.

Thank you



Monday, 17 August 2015

An ode 4

I get triggered by my own behavior and there is something neo-something in my own thoughts.

“Yeah, well, you don’t always get gay representation. Straights just don’t care about anything-” He stops. “Sorry, I don’t know...”

He gestures at me, pausing and musing on his own dart which could land on my face rather than the apple on my head, even if he’s done this a bunch of times or perhaps I would be Burroughs’ wife. 

“I’ll speak for myself.” He scratches his head, some strands going up in the back, as if electrified and gelled. Maybe he had done some hairspray last last night and this is the leftover moon dust for the morning to hoar frost. “Not really, there’s a lot of subtext and just like when you watch Full Metal Jacket, it makes you happy that someone sneaked in a love line just for someone else rather than you to feast your eyes upon. I always wondered why would someone who supposedly is straight do that, I don’t care about straights, why should they and why would they? And it’s not like our world is great, if we had nothing, no wars...”

Daniel pauses, tugging his bottom lip, honey locked on mine.

“No duality of man and no peace badges on ‘born to kill’ helmets, although who am I fucking with. They’re like that guy who just kept shooting, we don’t even have proper people on the front, everyone escaped. There is no age for patriotism these days, we all flee, because we understand that only we ourselves value our lives, only neutral governments won’t touch, who will close their eyes and that is better, it’s better to be nowhere and watch.” He pauses, inhaling, exhaling. “It is a stance. I’m not getting killed for a cause I don’t believe because we’re not allowed to even choose the right political side, because all is intertwined in some conspiracy the conspiracy itself doesn’t even believe in it.” 

“If I can’t even recall what I dreamt last night, if I repeat my own thoughts aloud, what is the point of me even fighting and even if I were to shoot in the air, no would care, I don’t think even a bullet would be wasted against my back.” I speak up and Daniel just now sits, legs crossed, jeans ripped on the knees and I wonder why would you even wear a belt this red, but once a name is given, all builds up in a bizarre way. Maybe you can make the present with the right delusions and the right mental illnesses to paint the sky black, like it actually is. The sky is dark, no fear even controls us and everything seems to be discarded and the glamour of watching everyone downstairs without moving up is ridiculous and it’s as if breaking my own fear, I decide to move up. I speak it out fast, not to even follow my own decisions and Daniel, just shrugs, asking if I need help to lift up the suitcases, it’s not even that long that we’ve moved in, it’s been a few weeks with other inhabitants, pleased that the house was empty, yet charged all of us and comedies make us all much worse, giving us as if a death toll and a death date.

Words are barely spoken, due to anxiety and my suitcases are nearly pushed up, to the last floor, amused at all the commodities, but then maybe sharing makes us far less scared of everything and more trigger immune to recall all of our war memories and what the media had told us all?

And why do we write about war when we are in it? What is the pleasure of thinking depressed? 

"Basically all representation makes me happy." He says, carrying a suitcase up, lifting it entirely and I even feel a sly envy because due to my own traveling I have no energy left. Maybe we just set everything in our lives and that’s ok. "Again, I don’t know about you-"

"I’m gay." I interrupt, but I realize that doesn’t help him a bit, yet I don’t smirk. I wish we didn’t have to know gender for sexuality, I wish queer were as gay only less white girl political or global warming men who seem to be unique, something steers me off the word and I would be called a hypocrite. But when females are transphobic it’s always ok and I’m the transphobe for being androgynous.

Daniel shoots a look back.

"I’ll take that as however you put it, I guess." He puts the first suitcase down, kicking a door open, screech with old rust, yet no ghosts and the room is as spacious as my mind, clutter still needed in it. It’s next to his.


I've been a bit behind, so sorry, but here's the next chapter of An Ode, I still find it hard to write, but I'm happy I'm back to my usual shifting through stories so yeah xD 

This chapter and story was written when I was really pissed off and I hate that we have awful and really small representation, I mean we are moving somewhere but it's barely going there. Also Daniel is quite a fiery and loud mouthed character compared to Quentin. 

When it comes to Full Metal Jacket, I'm a sucker for gay love lines and kind of the fact that it was sneaked there really made my weeks and I love that movie for that and how subtle it was as well. Breaks my heart though, so that's why I talked about it here because I had just finished watching it and I wanted to discuss it really. 

An Ode was written when things were really bad regarding the war really and I really needed to vent and in general I guess I just felt very dystopian at the time and I wanted to discuss that. We still live in a very dystopian world, we can't really argue against that.

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, you know the drill, you make my month by telling me so really and I've been down so it would be great to hear back really

Thank you



Thursday, 13 August 2015

airshow whore

I looked at her breathing. That only reminded me that the frustration assembled and all of this had done nothing, no matter how now she curled up, at ease from me holding my eyes closed for a few minutes prior. She was doing as told, when every stretch was paid to the end of the weekend. I didn’t even know how she felt about it and none was asked what was even the point of her dragging along, but that had been the girlfriend experience, wasn’t it? Not to feel lonely not just in the sheets. 

During sleep I swear I could see planes and if I opened my eyes wide enough, I could try and scrap at the past mistakes as if they had never existed and all I could do was pray for my mind to repress them and other’s as well, because even a pat on the back is scary but there comes at a time when you need to understand that fear is not the worst outcome of them all. And somehow that should give enough energy to understand that past can be relived through memories and I can find the energy to do it much faster than wait months ahead. 

I kept getting anxious about the girl, sleeping besides me no matter how many more times I would turn to even look at her with her lightened hair and how it was all over the pillow, giving her a sleeping beauty feel as if I had paid for her to sleep with effort as well. The thing seemed surreal enough until it was done and even afterwards I still felt disappointed through all of the mosquitos and her clinging heavily to her feet heels as she would swat them as well. Even the name Arielle was more than a Disney princess name, even if she had told me before we fell asleep that it was also spelled differently through her big lips as I was too anxious to cling onto her. It was like having a bad date which still managed to compensate through everything and the remote areas which had been chosen for the airshow with ridiculous distances between the houses and open fields embracing children’s play. 

That night has fully showed its glimpses nearly for the first time as well, as I had sat up to observe everything in its entirety without the drunk chatter from earlier and allowing the moon to light up the whole forest as if it had been the lukewarm taste of the first bitter spring after months of winter’s cold and eternal darkness which we have all learnt to live with as we’d escalate aimlessly in life. 

Waking up with her was even more odd, as she had already dressed up as if she had known and just lay besides me on the bed, watching me sleep and that had made me rather uneasy, maybe the whole fact that I just had someone besides me was making me awfully uncomfortable, embracing an old uncomfortable feeling as if I had lost my virginity once more, which wasn’t as thrilling. It felt as if that had been it and the only excitement I had gotten was the pat on the back from my mates for even doing it and not being the last one as they had teased me. I also wondered how come I had been the only one who wasn’t excited about this prospect at all, as I seemed far too stuck in the idea of yesterday, that I’ve still got to lose my virginity and no one seemed to even brush the subject of love besides Alexa’s eyes which had been gleefully trying to squeeze it out of me until I couldn’t stand it anymore and had gotten her denim jacket in my face, once I had broken up with her. I got told that we didn’t make love and that we just fucked and I seemed to had been missing the reasoning behind everything then, if it had supposed to be an act of love. 

Recalling Alexa during breakfast in that part of the hotel seemed even more odd and I was  more than sure that Arielle wouldn’t have minded discussing such, but I did and all we had done was small talk starting from that this had been Arielle’s first air show and surely first time where someone had dragged her to one with such intentions. I had asked her not to mask much who she was, as I didn’t need her to pretend that I was frankly hiring a girlfriend, I was choosing to take her with me just not be alone and I had decided that I hadn’t gotten laid in a fair while. Not that it ever bothered me as I never seemed fully satisfied, as if I had been chewing flavorless gum at all times and it so managed to go through life like that, boringly, as I had taken the chairs for both of us, acquiring one for her before we had left the city for the rural air show with all the latest planes probably filled with people taking photos just to see what were the latest planes. After all, we’re always curious in where can we die I guess, or how we can defend ourselves. 

But then depression should end up giving a mellow melancholy and I only knew that I would manage somehow to get out of the lukewarm water into the hot tub just for a while, feeling as if I had been a young boy once more, not knowing how the fuck would I even crawl into a plane or how to even make it a career and I still had no idea, drowning in paperwork and wondering why does it so happen that for the simplest of jobs we still end up getting paid well by the roll of the dice, just for sorting, just for writing, just for doing things hour by hour and goofing off by goofing off. 

I was still surprised just like any time, that there were always a lot of people and some which wouldn’t attend were sitting on the streets with enormous camera lenses just to capture photos, already stacked with food, which I had forgotten to bring, while holding Arielle’s hand. And the town ends up being divided by those who had decided to attend truthfully and who will watch from a distance or get the euro per cookie stand, have a lucky enough backyard to see everything and hear the airport for the rest of the year, watch the runway be closed down more strictly that one time of the year. 

I carry both chairs, as Arielle still seems confused on why would you even hire someone to go with you to an airshow, but I don’t think even I had the truthful answer because I really didn’t know. Even if there were a lot of people there was plenty of space, even a spot on what you’d call the second row next to some bloke who had decided that this was a suit event in a Beatles haircut, as if that had somehow justified him as he just drank some fizzy drink, recalling the law and probably trying to behave until some decent act would show up instead of a bunch of planes doing V-shapes or last year’s Spitfire which would barely do any tricks, allowing way to everyone else. 


I'm sorry for the hiatus, but fuck, I'm so happy to be back and I'll be pushing out stuff back to my usual. Priority first and yeah, it's still a bit hard to write but I'm doing it :D

I had a few very rough days after the airshow but now I'm better so it's easier to differentiate stuff and all :3 and the idea came to me a bit before we went there, as I was dying to write something new and that's what I do when it's hard to write something, so that was done. I think I was too sleepy to tell myself the idea is bad, so I had written the plot in notes on my phone and aproved by Callie I pretty much went greenlit on it.

I quite enjoy Swedish nature, so of course that ends up a rather big factor in the stories which I either set here or are based off here. I don't really specify where this is and the Euro per cookie was said coz it's an easier currency of course and that struck out to me as we were going to the airshow and it had been my first one, so I really wanted to write about that as well. I get nervous what if my life not as thrilling to describe, but I think everyone has that, we all get not bored but melancholic with it, but well, I love my own, I just get scared what if some aspects aren't as interesting, but it's really how all of our lives are built and they are interesting. I mean, what made me open my eyes about that was reading The Catcher In The Rye back when I was 11 or so. 

The title came from the fact that I had decided to call the document that because I had been tired and figured to just call it something to have it saved up. 

Regarding nature I guess another example where I was absorbed into it would be 500. 

I kind of wanted to speak about depression and sort of the idleness of being 20 with a job, it's a good idleness but it gives you a sort of sense of... is this it? Specifically when you have depression and I kind of wanted to give Alex a job which is more monotone, making it more idle, sort of to live up how it is when depression hits you fully in the head and something where you don't concentrate a lot, do simple tasks, it was inspired by the time I had an office job for a brief while. Thank fuck for freelancing, much better xD 

I kind of like touching such subjects as prostitution and see them in a different light or try to rather than what we're forced down our throat this day and just as a job really. 

What held me back was the fact that I was hesitant to write what I was feeling and that's why I gave the second paragraph the proper treatment which helped me write more and here I am with a full fleshed out chapter xD

Also the title goes back that we're pretty much or rather the characters are interested in airshows. I'm a bit pissed off at tumblr, so the title was a bit of a... fuck your censorship and your desire to shame sex workers and said words. 

I mused on who to take and I really don't like Taylor, so I decided on Arielle and Alexa as Alex's ex.

I'm sorry if this chapter ended up much more focused on describing the settings and what not rather than Miles xD which is still does and I couldn't imagine Miles in anything else and I had wanted them younger so here's Beatles Miles really xD 

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please please please make my day and tell me so. I'll push it more earlier then :D



Wednesday, 5 August 2015

Blue/Jacket 11

I think it’s awful that we can never make everything stop, it will be the world which dissolves us. We will never be able to stand up to anything, regardless if we want to or not because everything leads up to what was wanted by whomever in the first place. And somehow it makes sure that I don’t speak in any way, that everything should go past me and no one will ever notice the blood on the pavement and will walk on and I will see them crashing through me, but they will only notice the ghost me if I tell them they’re wrong and they’ll find a way to kill again.

I think one of the hardest things to accept is that there was no other self, that I had always been a man meaning that I was always confused, that all the memories were I thought I was a woman were all false, I had been confused and always male. People really don’t talk how while growing up you may identify as a tomboy and it might not be okay to say that women can be everything, that you’re just a tomboy and even uttering that being a tomboy for you at least meant being male will be considered misogynistic because if there is nothing to hold onto for someone who identifies as female other than a trans man they should rethink their own gender perhaps. And saying such things or even thinking ends up being harsh, but in reality I’m just angry that no one slapped my face and told me I’m male when I always have been and I wish men would be told that it’s okay to be men. It’s surely better than being a transphobic woman.

I knew that I wouldn’t be naked the way I wanted, I knew that I wouldn’t have sex the way I wanted and I hoped that it wouldn’t be as frustrating as masturbating hopefully. I hoped that I could lose myself in the moment and that it would somehow be just as magical as if I could have the body I’ve always wanted and it wasn’t even going to be the partner I’ve always wanted. 

Jamie offered to eat out since my cooking skills were pretty much mild and eatable and he seemed to have money to waste which made me wonder how much longer would his month even last, but as we dressed up, I still saw him tense from recalling Madrid and Lisbon but instead he grabbed me, pushing me against the closet, instantly letting my tongue in as we grinded against each other and I knew he was desperate for a memory cleanse and I was more than open to give him my memories of some love which couldn’t shatter so easily, which I was confused but believed in now.

Once he pulled back, I still stood with him entirely lingering in my mouth, but I just nodded to nothing in particular as he was dressing up to go greet the outside cold. 

Going day after day seemed a bit too much anticipating and very much filled with something you could only dream of and with his fingers on the back of my neck I could only wonder about Alex and how had the other man even managed to fit into my life and in what way would that even be? Had he solely been the one to lure me into Jamie’s arms? And who was I supposed to end up with? I wasn’t too keen on humanity’s allowance of dating even if you don’t wake up next to them until that day when you die. 

I never understood but at the same time, when I was growing up and had been perceived as female unfortunately, I was stuck in a dorm with a different girl and I would end up kicking her boyfriend out, just so that I could sleep and she had told me that they had decided to break up right after the summer camp would end. We never spoke after said camp either and I had been envious of those people who ended up close with their roomies, as I never got that. Instead both me and Nick would hang out, sneaking out to sit in the kitchen and talk about whomever we had been crushing on then. I had tried girls at the moment and we had been discussing a girl. Nick was slowly wondering where he had started to fit, but instead he’d listen to me and sometimes when the night was too dark and sleepy I would catch him looking at me and I would smile back, it felt as if we were floating-

When I get too lonely or too paranoid, I wonder if I had ever made the right moves in life, if it was a good decision to freelance because I’ve heard too much negative and jokes ranging from my salary to if I was really doing it for free that it had started messing with my head, as if I was holding the cord of the phone and letting it not only twist its curved cord with my fingers but with my throat as well, allowing it be sliced open-

I had missed him and I had loved him.

I thought that maybe if I had stayed a woman maybe he would’ve gone for me. 

But the thing about the people who don’t go for you, they will never go for you. 

And somehow it had been too hard to let go-

It’s not that I didn’t like Jamie greatly, just that my mind had become my enemy and growing up and leaving a household with the words that no one would ever love me started messing around with my head, once the first bliss was gone and he was in the house, sitting besides me as I would draw and the first time I had to take off the binder because I had reached my eight hours per day limit and my ribs had started aching.

I expected him to stare at my chest, but instead he just smiled and I stood in front of him for a bit before he kissed me again.

Once in a fight, you’ll never stop being paranoid. 

My head would start running closer to my sleep, dissolving with some conceived fear of actually falling to pieces. 

I wanted a bath, but in Sweden barely anyone had it, so buying anything to drown yourself as you dream, was a crude solution to the hanging yourself in a shower. 

And how come depression made sure you wore the curtain of misery as if the world were a funeral seemed to be reality. That’s why you miss people, because you can’t afford to be happy on your own or beloveds. 

It didn’t make sense and on the last and final day of my period I sat on the bathroom, wondering how come sex had been so anticipated and exciting, running a hand through my hair. Checking the time, wondering if five people to one stating that wearing a binder during sex is enough. And I sat there for a while, still recalling Nick and how we would both laugh and how I had spilled to him about Alex years on, still in that kitchen, him entirely sleepy and laying on his stomach in front of me to tell me exactly how he had felt that everything had been written on the stars and how everything had been fate.

Then how come I was losing my virginity to another man then? How come I had wanted Jamie to touch me all over the place, to push me further and how come I ended up locking myself in the bathroom as Jamie had the telly on with some random trash tv show while reading Visions of Cody. 

Living with no schedule and dead lines ended up being a big question of why not. why not have Jamie stay over? Why not meet up with him nearly all the time? Why not even go ad check out the cat Alex had to babysit from work.

Alex called Jamie in, who had dragged me with him, as Alex just confirmed with his ex-boyfriend that both were now staying over in the same apartment. Alex had lit a cigarette, offering Jamie one as we both headed in to check out the cat. 

It was odd to watch a silent Alex, wondering outloud as we had one date and it was more than obvious that he had somehow lost. He didn’t have his quiff today, allowing his hair to be entirely messy and ended up matching his insides. But I tried not to stare at him much, not allowing myself to dissolve into some childish nostalgia. 

What if it had all been my fault and what would’ve Nick even said, laying on the floor, hearing that I had indeed giving up the man in the jacket for someone else?

After seeing Nick in my day dreams all covered up with the curtains filled with stars which he covered himself in, as if it would be his veil to escort him to death I observed the cat which would end up fighting against the small toy mouse handed to the front paws to beat up with the back paws. Jamie ended up playing with the cat the most, as I could feel Alex’s puppy brown eyes just keep staring at me until we had left. 

All days become an odd cold mixture as I would wait for myself to cool down, recalling how Jamie’s tongue and mouth had tasted and how come now I would be able to push much much further. It feels nauseous, anxious and far too threatening to actually do something. It didn’t help that we had a small discussion before, because I had told him that the period should soon be over but I had his hands under my shirt so that hadn’t been helping to think really straight. 

It had been odd to actually go exactly how Jamie had mocked it softly, calling it dick shopping and stating that it didn’t matter because most likely right on the exact day or midway I would decide or we would both what we had both felt like. And how do you even deliver the message to the person you want to fuck that you’re actually entirely ready to just pin them down?

In the end no matter how much you prepare for sex, all that matters is that you really want that someone between your legs, no matter how much you goofed off by pressing dildos on display against the person in some shop named after a greek goddess, just to attract possibly everyone to initiate sex, not just during Pride week, which sometimes should resemble how living life should be if you’re gay. We need to end up being proud of who we sleep with or not, of those who we love and what makes us different. I had always wanted to walk pride holding who I was, a gay trans man since people don’t even know I exist. Hell, I don’t know I exist. 

I didn’t even know what I felt like, but I knew that I had wanted him in my bed, as I slowly crept on him, even knowing that he was watching me in full and in that split second I realized how much either of us had been anticipating, with each touch and hug and by the end of the day, when you’re trans it also takes a lot of discussion as you can’t just turn off the lights and maybe because we had rinsed it through and through, Jamie asking me how I would prefer everything to be called and having the binder on, maybe-

We just really wanted to fuck. It had really boiled down to that with no other further consequence. It’s much messier than you expected and nothing really flows, besides your own sexual frustration which seems to be binding and seems to be tightening at all all times, etching for release, but then it becomes a virtue of holding it. 

I had dragged Jamie to the bedroom, where he had pinned me down and I didn’t even know where we were going with everything or what had we discussed, I didn’t know what exactly even meant besides grinding against him in a desperate manner, allowing both moans to mix and no one even knows whose body is whose. I didn’t take off my binder and he just dug his fingers deeper to make sure I would feel it through the life fabric and I just moaned against his touch. 

Jamie heard his phone vibrate, so he just quickly held the button to turn off as he continued going further for my neck, stopping at the hemline and going back up again, as I pulled on his shirt to reveal him. I couldn’t help but feel anxious from seeing him shirtless but all I did was pull him closer to me much more. But the thing is, that we;re still all nervous and we will stumble, like Jamie taking a good while to pull my skinny jeans down and get the condoms and then motion to me and back to me. I just propped myself up and kept looking at him as he kept motioning the condom back and forth.

“Man, I really don’t know. I’m playing the innocent virgin here.” I smirked as he just rolled his eyes, opening the wrapper. “I take it, I’ll continue playing the innocent virgin then.”

“Whatever you want to call yourself, dear Miles.” He laughed. 

I just looked back at him, feeling a bit too nervous and tense at the same time until he had kissed me again and I wondered if I had been the only bloke in this world being so fucking anxious of having someone else entirely pressed against me and pushing me much forwards and taking me entirely. I wondered how would it even feel to then fuck Jamie, but I guess the point was that it would happen in any way again and again

Again and again

I just looked back at him, as I pulled his pants down, leaving them halfway as I traced my hands back up and since I had gotten a green light, I kissed him and pressed my fingers against his chest, pulling them, pinching them, causing Jamie to moan and trying to push the fact that I didn’t want anyone on my chest just yet, that soon enough I’d have him entirely all over my body, just in a bit-

“Are you okay, Miles?” And he stopped as we both looked at each other. I just nodded,a  bit embraced of confessing that I had been scared of ever mentioning my dysphoria, the fact that I’d read enough trans men hooking up on Grindr and stopping halfway wasn’t helping at all, because just like them I had no idea how it would feel with this partner or how it would feel at all and by the end of the day sex becomes an act where your body is maximised to a ridiculous extent. And what else can remind me just as much that I don’t have the body that I wish, but even if my mind was anxious, I was still watching everything unravel in front of me and I still had wanted him immensely and I had just pushed it-


I continued kissing him.

He pulled back and I guess I seem to forget that my expressions are easy to read by someone who has been watching me for the past few days and somehow ended up in my bed, knowing that he had wanted me far too much. 

The whole thought of someone finally wanting me was obscure and it was hard to even comprehend, even strings words together and actually make sex just sex, because by the end of it it was us making love somehow even if neither of us spoke on the subject. 

“Miles, you okay?” I just had to nod again, but instead he held his silence as an answer and I just slowly had to breathe out. 

Maybe I did want some nipple play after all. I could feel myself flush even if we were all already in a binder and underwear in front of each other. 

“Sorry... I guess I’m just freaking out about my body, no matter how cliche it sounds, I guess it has to be said.” I took a deep breath. “I just don’t know where exactly I stand with it and I don’t know-”

“If you’re not ready-”

“No, that’s the thing. I am, I fucking want you... I’m just scared that I don’t have the exact body-”

“I want your body. Well...” He quickly snapped back. “I want you, regardless of what body you have. I don’t want to sound fetishist or anything, it’s you I’m fucking and it doesn’t matter what you have or what you don’t have. I’ll touch you were you want me to and I won’t where you don’t.” 

I bit my lip.

I started taking off my binder, instantly feeling the weight of my breasts suddenly and the reminder that I had been wearing it for a good while starting to remind me as well as Jamie just compressing me with himself on top of me. 

“And I don’t think... I never played with my front hole anyway.” I blinked, staring at a blank spot. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. I guess I asked before and I just assumed you wanted back.” He said and this conversation even if it was awkward ended up being necessary because until you’re in it you won’t know what exactly you’ll feel like. What if you’re in a front hole sort of day? I guess those could happen. Anything could happen and it wasn’t even about detaching myself from my body but understanding that this is what I have now. It’s okay to love it, it’s okay to hate it. Jamie lowered his head to go for my chest, licking softly as I just arched my back, embarrassed from its mass and how cumbersome it had felt, but it still felt great and I couldn’t stop as he started sucking and groaning, letting his hand go down into my underwear and stroking me down there, I felt a bit embarrassed at first from how moist it had been and something I had understood he hadn’t touched before, but just looking at him made me realize that he had still wanted me. 


To pretty much expose myself, this chapter was an enourmous nightmare to write because around the 2nd day I realized that I had wanted to update Blue/Jacket with like 400 words in to a chapter of 3.2 k I should've gone into, usually I write small bits and pieces and then I just wrap up the last 500-1k words in one binge unless it's No. 1 Party Anthem which I ridiculously binge for and that's why my backstory is pretty much me being dead. 

I ended up having a break down, because I wasn't sure if people were still reading Blue/Jacket and enjoying it with how the plot was going since milex is progressing rather slow, but this was always how the plot was intended. And I do get terrified if the milex is slow and I give other relationships until the other progresses (to try and avoid spoiling as much as possible), I guess this happens because in To Miles I had quite a few people be sad on the milex loveline there and that kind of... scared me to death even up to today xD I kind of always freak out, I dunno if I seem very... self-confident but I'm really not and I really freak out about everything, so every message literally makes my day and makes it much easier to write. 

So thank you to everyone who supported me through the hard day that was yesterday and in general thank you to everyone. That's why I always thank.

I guess also shout-out to Marina Diamandis because it was only to her music which made me fully relax and write under it, so pretty much nearly all of this was written under her music.

The sex scene between Jamie and Miles had been something I had been anticipating perhaps since the start of the year mainly because I just realized that there isn't really a great amount of or rather none of gay trans sex scenes and mostly they're quite in a mold unfortunately and I wanted to push that away. Also, it was very anxious because when it came to this sex scene I had to literally push all my boundaries down and write how I have sex frankly. It's not the end of the sex scene obviously and I debated whether to continue, but I really wanted this chapter out and I guess, I'll hold the anticipation. But I really wanted to break the whole no one describing how queer trans men have sex. That's also one of the reasons I really became anxious because I was looking forward to it so long and I became anxious as fuck and I really wanted to not say shit, we need represenatation, but make it myself as well. Because who else can speak for us?

Going back to the story, I am still eternally pissed that I grew up not knowing that being a trans man is okay and that it was okay to be one, so Blue/Jacket becomes personal and also Miles' bit about trying women before he discovers himself. 

I really put myself out here when it comes to masturbation, gender and sex, so I really don't know what much to add, so I'm going through the chapter.

I just really love it, so yeah.

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please please tell me because I am legit freaking out about it.

Thank you