Sunday, 25 October 2015

In Between Days

“I wonder what happens to all those wishes which don’t come true. Because there’s so many child dreams which were so easy to fulfill and never came true.” I say on the phone, watching around for cars, as I step out on the street from the building. I take out a box of cigarettes, the lighter tucked inside and I just hold the phone tighter against me with my shoulder, clutching onto the cig with my teeth. A wind blows making it colder than the usual autumn which just starts to kiss the weather with it’s frost. I had the stupidity of believing that a leather jacket would be plenty. In the split second all I hear is silence, waiting for me to go on. “No, really. I mean, fine, maybe ponies would be much harder to fulfill, but what about all the other dreams?”

I try not to focus on anything else, letting my mind stop spiraling further into questioning why some things end up coming true and only a pause is now heard because I should be the one answering my own questions. I feel my phone vibrate even more now, causing me to nearly jerk my shoulder. 

“Hold on, Jamie, I got a call-”

“I see your point-” He starts, but instead I mutter a fast excuse, that I really have no idea whose call is it and why do they want. It’s a bit of a childish excitement coz no one really calls me these days besides Jamie who I seem to be playing strip poker with and no one is losing, so the situation is just awkward where no one is dating anyone, yet we’re stuck in the same situation where we both should be dating. I’d even moved in with the guy, after coming from all the way and nothing had happened, besides a few awkward hugs which were there and here. It felt as if we had been closer through the letters and now it was simply stuck with nothing. Before I could trace his words with fingers and now I couldn’t. 

I knew that he’d been going over his ex in his head and when I came he was just cleaning up all the pictures of them together and I had seen him rip them all apart so much. I didn’t push and neither did Jamie. After all, they had been engaged, so that had been getting into his head far too much. I moved in suggesting far too much, that I’d be there but he had been distant. Maybe I did envision too much of a relationship in my head. His ex was gorgeous and smart, something nothing close to me with my recently grown out hair which I had been dying pure black for a few months now. She was a model which I wasn’t made for. I took the cigarette out of my mouth, making a quick exhale and picked up the unknown number. 

“He left me high and dry. I was standing outside, it was supposed to rain any minute and he didn’t even bother to show up. It was as if it wasn’t a second date. He was the one who said all, ohh, yeah, I’d love to have a second date. I mean, what is the point of even doing a second date if you don’t even want to show up?” And she holds a small pause and I hear her take something and drink from it. I look around as if that might hold an explanation why an unknown woman with a french accent is calling me. Instead I just see some school girls cross the road, giggling probably with the same gossip I am hearing. Instead the woman doesn’t shut up at all and keeps talking. “It’s not like I’m not trying. It’s the third guy I’m seeing and I can’t seem to get pass a second date. It’s as if I’m a new no second date kind of girl.”

I hear her sigh and keep drinking. I don’t even dare to speak and that’s when she just does a weird noise, as if motioning for me to speak and I have no idea how she even looks like. I scratch the back of my head, entirely forgetting my cigarette. I hear a sigh and the woman continues even further. 

“I mean, I was engaged and it didn’t happen. Not to mention the guy who I cheated with got cold feet right after I broke up with you know who. Ugh, it even sucks to say his name. I really shouldn’t have done it, but I was just getting bored of the whole... routine. You know how obsessed he was with the routine. He would just keep doing the same things all over and over again. He’d go through everything. I swear a bit more and he’d wear the same underwear on a certain day. He’s been obsessed with those suede shoes that I can’t even see them.” She pauses, exclaiming. “I even saw him the other day and he was still wearing them! Uh huh.” 

The caller starts to feel a bit uncomfortable by my silence. I hear a flicker of a lighter now.

“You’re awfully quiet. I wonder what’s with you today or maybe it’s just me talking so much.” She says inhaling heavily. 

“I-I’m sorry-” I quickly start speaking up.

“Mmm, don’t worry.” I imagine the faceless woman moving her arms around as she says this, blowing more smoke into the room, legs crossed or maybe not on a sofa. “I’d rather just talk, if you let me. I’m not feeling too good.”

I just nod, as if she can see me. 

“Or maybe not. I’m not even drunk, I’m just sipping on tea because he likes tea. My ex.” Then she gives a good pause and I hear a light sob. “I really feel unloved. I really do feel unloved. When are you planning on visiting me, huh?”

I hear a small laugh.

“Come on, we haven’t seen each other in a good, good while.” And that’s to what I realize that I’ve been standing on the sidewalk the whole time, listening to the woman, going through all the lights and through all the school kids leaving school. 

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Why do you keep saying you’re sorry?” And I just hope she doesn’t speak up again. 

“I think you got the wrong number.” I mutter and actually start crossing. That’s when I hear her sit up from her sofa or whatever she was sitting on.

“Wait... Who are you, then?” She asks.

“I’m Alison.” I say even quieter, feeling embarrassed that I even managed to stay this long in the conversation. 

“Oh. Well, you heard it all.” She laughed and I actually questioned her lack of alcohol even if she sounded perfectly sober. “I wouldn’t mind a new fresh opinion.”

“I’m having boy trouble myself, so I don’t think I’m the best to be talking about this to be very honest.” I confess, feeling odd that I just made friends with a complete stranger over the phone. 

“Ooooh. Tell me, should be far more exciting than my own.”


I always try to go deep with the first phrase to be honest and I just started new medication and how the doctor described... I felt strange and I had a very surfaced mild depression episode, where I actually asked Callie why don't some wishes which you want so much don't come true? And further as the story goes on Alison asks that since she and Jamie aren't getting on yet.

Callie also called this the only rom-com of graspthesanity, so I'm quite looking forward to that because it's actually light and I've watched and loved plenty rom-coms in my day. I hope this will be loved as well.

The plot came to me in a dream actually, all of it and I was like this fusing of me and Alison in this story. I love it when dreams give me plots, it's quite an old and trustworthy thing of mine, so yeah. So all of this was written in notes. 

I didn't write yesterday coz I had a doctor's appointment, I started new meds and everything. So I'm really sorry, but hey I wrote 1.2k in a day 8) so I'm awesome for that.

Also, in case you missed it, I started a youtube channel and I post videos there, so please check it out

It was quite hard to write it at times, specifically the huge monologue (I try not to spoil the obvious xD) 

At this point I have no title. It was taken from the fact that okay, this is a rom-com and I was musing on a title with Callie, as she offered Pendulum and I figured that I could go with In Between Days as in The Cure song and it matches the story. I'm also thrilled to be back and writing my usual Alison/Jamie. 

I really hope you enjoyed it and thank you:)

If you did, please comment below or on tumblr



Wednesday, 21 October 2015

I Can't Wait11

Sometimes I desperately wish I were someone else, as I even read the back of a cereal box at breakfast over all the very loud chatter of countless siblings. It’s a very rough feeling to explain, but it just falls under I wish I hadn’t grown up the way I had, that there was something else to look to rather than just relying on grades which led into nowhere and having the application be in front of me and deciding to work instead after college. I felt excluded on the fact that I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life and strumming a guitar would go nowhere unless you’d get the proper ballads which actually required no guitar. 

Then it’s as if being someone else would make sense and I would have the girl I want. I try not to think too much of Alex at this point even if I know exactly what the babyface’s intentions are. Last night we barely did anything besides listen to a few records and I could see him staring at me and I didn’t know exactly what was going through his head and I could only guess. To my religious parents he was just another bloke who was a friend of mine, Alison would only come when everyone else was out of the house and she had visited every room, to make sure that she had lived as everyone for one sole second. 

I couldn’t cry to him about Alison, I couldn’t bring myself to speak to him as the same records played and I knew that I wouldn’t feel the same love to the same man, maybe something different would eventually blossom out of frustration, but I wondered if I had been a metaphor for Alison not loving me now. 

Life was a big disorder where I had no idea and I kind of wanted to love someone and that someone would fall on the cards under Alison. It seemed to be falling away from my fingers like the tree leaves. 

I was getting bored of the city, wandering around the dull Sunday around the same streets which I couldn’t even look at anymore, wondering how colourful would they look with ice and teeny patches of snow soon. I kept getting more and more anxious wondering how long would take me to collapse and I knew that on the receiving end of the phone Alex was surely waiting. I felt in an odd, dazed situation which I would never imagine as I was growing up that somehow feelings wouldn’t be mutual at all. I had my interest and I enjoyed his company and I knew that my interest was dipping into the sphere Alex had wished of, but that was still something I wasn’t sure when would happen as I would look at the reflection of myself in the windows of the shops. 

It surely wasn’t a question of his gender even if it has never crossed my mind before, I just knew that I was attracted to women, but being with Alex wasn’t much different, it was just being with him and his clingy puppy attraction as I would see how his big brown eyes would just stare at me. If I had been sure in my sexuality what did it mean now, then? And did that even change anything?

I had surely no answer in my reflection. 

Because I had no idea if I even had that in me.

I’d go to sleep thinking of Alison and making my way to her door was much more than obvious, after the months we’d spend together and she was surprisingly alone, her hair up in a ponytail and she just looked around, to make sure, as if it were the first sin, for me to head in.

Neither of us wanted to talk about getting back together. 

We both shared the nearly finished pack of cigarettes among us, taking a cigarette each. I wondered how evident was the drift between two lovers and I knew that the only person now whose love I could see behind their eyes was now Alex, as Alison returned to a former lover. I wondered where he was, as the dog went into Alison’s lap and she kept scratching the dog behind his ear. I didn’t even know how to bring out anything to her, all I wanted as to somehow scratch a lottery card and win the jackpot which was once her love. And I could really see nothing behind her dark eyes, as she smoked. We locked eyes and she kept her silence, making it fairly awkward, making me wonder why do we even talk to people at all if they don’t care by the end of the day. 

How do you even approach this? There is someone who is in love with me -

“There’s this... they’re attracted to me and I don’t know where to go with it.” I say all of a sudden, making Alison jerk first at the noise, look at me with cold eyes again which remind me of looking at a corpse, never believing it was alive, but recalling how it had once moved. Then it’s as if a stone fell off her shoulders, easing herself and her wings, making her able to relax and lean back against the sofa, closing her eyes, smirking lightly at her fear of me asking to take her back.

Maybe Mr. Hince always was the person she wanted back. Maybe no matter who she’d meet she’d always leave them for him. 

“You can always try and see where it goes.” She pauses. “Be honest. Life is short, what do you have to lose from trying a new relationship? Sometimes love grows in very odd ways.”

Alison holds her pause even longer, looking at her feet without blinking. 

“So you’re telling me to snog someone even if I don’t feel like it?” I say, looking at her, instead she looks ahead but all I see is that she’s blank and I wonder if this would’ve been just as weird if I had asked Meg, but I push the thought away. I think there’s plenty of people which want to get into my pants now. I push Meg away, since I’d been avoiding her by spending time with Alex who seemed to be calmly waiting. 

“Yeah.” She inhales. “Why the fuck not?”

Then she pushes my shoulder jokingly.

“Go snog ‘er, what are you waiting for?” And she tries to scan my face, but I don’t tell her anything, as if I’m ashamed of my newly pondering attraction to a friend who wants much more. I just shake my head and she keeps smoking. “Suit yourself, you can’t be sulking forever, Jack.”

She says the last bit harsh and I just feel like throwing daggers at her, but instead I put my head between my legs. It’s been weeks and drifting to months. I’d never get over her. I just try not to look at her and once I raise my head I know what the kind of woman I’m deeply in love with. All I can wish is for her to come running to me when Mr. Hince dumps her again. My chest feels heavy, but I still feel myself desperately wishing as it mixes with the first thought of kissing Alex which feels oddly foreign, but feels like a taste of an adventure which I would try and explore, simply because I enjoy his company and how he trails behind me, how he calmly listens to everything we exchange and how he manages to listen, curiously trying to understand if Alison is actually my ex. 

And then I desperately wish for all of this to end with Alison’s head between her legs, telling me how Jamie desperately loved her and where does all the love go?

Where does it go indeed?

Her dark eyes would not reply to me, just be vacant like the pit of a wishing well. 


Please write a comment below if you liked it:)

I can't really say that this was as hard as usual, because thankfully it was easier, I really wanted to write it and I kept pondering on one-sided love specifically when you're not the one in love. Or attracted. I've been in those situations and I kind of wanted to expand on that and also bring in discovering your sexuality. I was attracted to a girl back when I didn't know that I was trans and that created a whirlwind of am I gay and everything and I've used that plenty as the inspiration. So I wanted to use it again and how it's like to dip yourself slowly and understand that maybe that person is the odd one in the bunch and somehow you are attracted to them. 

I'm sorry if I use the experiences all over again, because well, I write more than I experience for sure. 

What inspired me a lot to write this chapter was actually listening to The White Stripes which I miss heavily. 

I've been kind of in and out of depression, so went for my daily key this day of writing what I know which is being highly depressed and that is how the first paragraph was born. And I kind of went on the spin of Jack not knowing what to do which is something a lot of people share, but I don't to be honest, I just happen to get kicked out of my dreams usually.

Thank you!



Sunday, 18 October 2015

An ode 5

Wall sex to the Quentin song.

I feel far too young and I muse on his age, at least let our ages justify our misery.

"Basically, it’s brilliant, it’s a love story wrapped for straight men. They even discuss that anal is better. Lovely." He pauses and just shrugs to himself. Maybe musing if to add that he’s single, but instead his stubble is scratched as if a discarded novel. "Not that straight men exist, or if they do they’re getting fucking killed under their Stars and Stripes."

In a world where social media would matter and people cared, I’d reblog it and it would escalate, yet we are just tolerated and black men killed are stripped off being men.

"Hell, I’d kill them for letting the son of a bitch god of war run around our land." I muse on his nationality and toned down accent. Maybe he would be Stars and Stripes only redirected and eye opened, but if he were it would be like making a good German among the nazis in a WWII movie just because we can’t make Yuri the good guy.

“We become hypocrites to ourselves and those who point it out to us are even more hypocritical. It’s kind of...” He clicks his finger togethers, going down the stairs to get the second suitcase. “Hey, men, you’re being a dick by supporting an artist who said that we should kill said ethnicity, I don’t know what the artists meant-”

I pause, clicking my tongue.

“VV?” I mutter and Daniel just looks at me bewildered and just shrugs. “Yeah, I used to have a big crush on her.”

He doesn’t ask me if I’m bisexual, which sometimes gets pinned against your throat or that I’m not gay enough, regardless what gay would be to me, I liked it when people said I were just gay for being androgynous, even if I had seemed to prefer one gender over the order, words are made by man and let them be so. People forget that, one word gets uttered and then picked up, just as slurs. 

“Well, just coz I say she’s an asshole, I lose a friend. Get your head out of your ass, just coz she said something that is problematic or whatever the fuck she did, don’t even want to get into it. Fuck her. Looks like shit and has been doing awful ballads, anyway.” I feel a bit triggered by talking and I feel like my collar is revealed, so I just stick my hands deeper in the pocket as he carries the suitcase up and I realize that he’s still smoking indoors, holding onto the cigarette tighter than he would the suitcase filled with everything I would be called a hypocrite for because it’s mine. He coughs, excusing himself. “I fucking forgot what I was going to say, either way, it’s like I know the men are behind it, but when Russian women stand up to say hey, go on, kills us, that just revolts me considering Western ideology where the woman is truly nothing, it’s like what are you thinking? It’s like I can’t even speak out because they are women, because yeah, we’re blaming them men for the bombing, but we don’t blame the women for the funding. Why aren’t we blaming women who can revolt against the actual men against it? Because their force becomes key and nothing. They themselves drop it even lower to the battle of sexes. And yeah, women revolt me. Not that I’m interested, but it’s... 

You knew white straight men would do this, but not the women.

And suddenly a woman becomes the white straight man. And all of this under the goddamn Stars and Stripes. Fuck this.” 

He looks at me.

“I’m sorry to talk politics with you, Quentin, I really am. I just honestly think such small ignorance become the Pavlik Morozov. I’d murder them with my own hands. I want to their father, I would take pleasure, because this war is due to them. Because nothing is fueled without people, Hitler didn’t rise to power alone. Alison Mossharts were behind him.” Daniel stretches out his hand towards me. As if it were a hug. “Sorry, I’ll shut up.”

I just fix my collar, as if I were exposed, as if watching all horror unravel and consume with self-hate because I am told to do so, because I don’t want people killed, Daniel talking.

“I feel like my silence is no longer needed, because one’s scream means nothing and I’m not supported and I don’t want support, I just want other’s silence.” And I hold mine. “So I want to hold my hate for those responsible, the people are nazis, not just the leader.” 

“And it’s even scary to speak out, it’s scary to hold the wrong ideology which the world wants you to walk with.” I speak softly, watching Daniel ease up, yet feel eager to somehow stop himself from talking about war even if I see that it’s itching him, because once you find someone to talk of it’s as if all the conversations are the same, as if you could monitor every single word you say and there’s this shattered state before you go to sleep when you realize that war is going and there is nothing you can do, it gets more intense and all the settings even in dreams start following the same pattern of an apocalyptic world where the economies crash but we’re not aware of it, some Project Mayhem gone right according to them and there is no hand of God, there’s just pure misery and the more the mind trails the more all the small VVs seem like distraction for hate, because you can fight other people, but not full structures and full ideologies, she becomes like a myth of Big Brother. 

And there is the whole myth of being alone, of juicing yourself to the last drop and there is some fucked up ideology in killing yourself because all of a sudden you can’t be Florence Ray, too many people killed and there is no point in a riot, all we thought should be done is being used against us. 


To be honest I've still got much left from An ode from last year's Nanowrimo. I usually frankly post it when I'm behind or writing a longer story, so here it is xD in other words, it's my backup coz I'm not ready with another chapter of something else:)

I just finished watching Full Metal Jacket at the time and that's the story in reference in this chapter.

To be honest, this story is brutally honest so I don't know what to add.

Pavlik Morozov was this fellow back in the USSR which snitched on his father, became a hero and then got killed by his own family.

I hope you enjoyed it and thank you



Wednesday, 14 October 2015

Threesome 16

The stage sex, was carefully planned out, it was... Like some sort of sick twisted invitation for me to pay for my sins, for me to know what had I missed, what I couldn’t touch and him being with some other female, some sort of evolution of myself, something I hadn’t and couldn’t become, he was letting me live his fantasy where he would pin me for everything I’ve done, just as he’s always done and I was willing, I didn’t want to detach and it’s that state of mind where you think lovers are like dirt, just because you had broken up

And I knew friends couldn’t fuck, so we’d both walk in heels on that border, at least I was, seeing him fall in out of love, seeing him get frustrated at other relationships, see them fall apart and him pinning them down just as much and I wasn’t better, sometimes I wouldn’t act and that’s when he would be in the empty room, alone with his feelings

And I tell myself that sex is not exciting when it is

Just like love it may not happen. 

Why does it so happen that finding a long lost or rather shards of them within you, it causes you to rethink life again? And how come one glance will be full of ice and the other will be full of fire? But it wasn’t about Jamie at all, even if it had been for the past few years and soon enough even the stage tension will slip between our fingers no matter how harsh he might try to stage it and pull me by the hair to feel. I won’t feel it anymore, because love will eventually become diluted and that shall be it, thankfully.

I still have to kill time before he leaves so that he doesn’t see me sneaking back into Kate’s house, so that becomes an issue of just actually walking a few blocks down and keep walking as if there is something new to see, but instead my heart rushes far too much in my ears and my thoughts become far too cluttered to even thinking properly in how things multiple and add up. I end up getting a lump in my throat and I just want to head back and end up in Kate’s arms and between her legs, so I regret not drinking even more back at the pub, instead I’m left with the crisp air and some regret on how life goes on in all its odd ways with despair.

The more I walk, the more I pray that Jamie would just leave and I end up going back and sneaking through a different entrance, waiting for Kate to show up with a cigarette between her lips and I just look at her as if she’s got a halo.


I'm proud that I've been keeping up with the deadlines, so yeah, it's been hard and I was struggling coz it's late and I'm tired and I found that I was halfway through with this and since my writing was clunky today it helped that the chapters are very short. 

I've been rather nostalgic of old Kills stories which I've finished, so writing something like Threesome is highly enjoyable since the story is still ongoing and full force :D

Feelings change and so does their analysis with just seeing the person in question. I've had times when I thought my feelings were gone and then they weren't and that's pretty much the focus of this chapter. Another emphasis was the stage sex which was heavily staged between the Kills and that just amazes me how real it had looked and whatnot, so I went with my thoughts on it. 

Also it's odd to write Kate and Jamie as a couple still since there's all the split talking, talk about writing something finished now

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did please tell me so

Thank you



Sunday, 11 October 2015

Relationship Values 7

Being alone can cause illusions. 

My period came crashing the next morning, reminding me of how it felt like to lay in a literal pool of stale blood, staining all the sheets with the same colouring as if it were some modern painting, when in reality it just meant on how screwed I was. I didn’t bother to go downstairs as I just sat there for an hour, staring at the sheets as soon as I cleaned myself on my floor, making it as quiet as possible even if I had known that Jamie had most likely started breakfast. That’s when I pondered lightly about Jack and his entire existence and how come he had fit in so clearly just made me wonder. It felt a bit like pouring acetone all over myself. 

I think with age we become less critical and rebellious, sometimes I’m too sad to care anymore and I just want any happiness old or new just to take me away so that I can at least do something. Hell, that’s why I end up drawing so much, sometimes not even knowing, just scribbling until there’s holes just to find some reasoning behind why am I doing it. Sometimes I can’t do any actions at all, the days become very small and I don’t know how to get the boredom to stop being stuck at my skull as if it were gum. 

In the end I tear the sheets away, not allowing myself to even think of it more, feeling the nostalgia of confusion I had on why had this started happening. I was the youngest in my class to get their period and I hid it, I recall how embarrassed I was and I would make sure to hide it and my friends only found out years later that I had it before anyone else. It was a subject I just wanted to avoid altogether and the thought that this was all a flag to get pregnant eventually was something I didn’t even want to think about.

I knew that Jamie was the man for me, but that didn’t give me any maternity instinct I was supposed to have, instead I just wanted us to continue lying in bed together, doing nothing, flicking through novels, hands in each other’s hair. And somehow I would feel like he had taken the inspiration with him, no matter how much I would drive or walk, I felt lost and it felt more like solitude than anything else. I just felt as if I had been walking towards him and never finding him again. 

And now with my sister hanging on a thread to remind me of other loves and how I had given her up, that was confusing my brain, as I pressed my hair against the empty carcass of the mattress, stripped down and reminding me that every lost love was like splitting your soul again and again, maybe that’s why some people were spinsters so fast. It was just that somehow we run away with our own love and lose it on the way to oh so many people.

There’s always a thousand reasons why you feel like crap and maybe only one why would you be happy. 

And I had to get downstairs to get breakfast with him and life felt dull, even with Jamie besides me, my mood going up and down like a broken thermometer, all my thoughts scattered and dissociating heavily by themselves before multiplying into worries. 

I had to remember that I’m no longer alone, that he was downstairs and it wasn’t a ghost in any way and it wasn’t even that I hadn’t desired. I felt as if the longer I stayed locked in with him having already heard everything, that I was just wasting time even if I had known that there was no way we would somehow enjoy time restless again. 

I ended up deciding to go downstairs and even if I had the opportunity to ask him anything, I decided against it as his earlier smoking was still filling up the air and driving some nostalgic force as I just sat besides him, seeing that he had been waiting for me everything served and the telly on. We didn’t say anything as if we were still married and had a rough night last night where we had both spoken much more than we should've allowed ourselves. But he still stayed over again, not making a big deal out of staying on the couch and I wondered whose questions was he here to satisfy, were they my own or were they his?

I was about to excuse myself, but I just stood up with the mouth opened as he fully locked eyes on me. 

“Morning.” And he had broken the silence, before going back to the television. 

I knew that he had given up all art and I wondered how did that feel to never think of something creative again and think of all the cases and never use them. I wondered. But that was a question to which answer I had known, he had told me that he couldn’t stand thinking if they would be successful or not, while he knew he had been good at law and practice just proved his perfection and that’s all it meant it to him, as he had taken the last bags a day later than he was supposed to move out. I thought we would kiss each other anywhere or that I would say that I’d miss him, but it’s easier to think about it rather than do something, because we never think that life is terminal and that we wouldn’t even be alive soon enough to regret it. I wondered how come my mother’s death was something which instead of showing regret of her death ended up in a reminiscence of my oldest lovers. 

We started eating in silence and I wondered how long had he been waiting, it would be a while before we would split everything up and he could leave, but he wasn’t. I also couldn’t help but wonder about the Jack fellow. I wondered how long have they been together and was he the one petting Archie to calm down? But then he would tell me if Jack had been over, I guess. I feel odd asking the same question again as I notice Jamie staring at me as I chew the toast slowly. 

“Do you have anyone?” He decided to ask out of the blue, leaving me out to just savor the odd question like a long lost dream. 

“Does it look like I even have anyone?” I smirk, wondering if he hadn’t noticed my roots. I bite into the toast again. “Why are you asking?”

“Because you asked me about Jack last night.” The thought that he had even bothered to recall the conversation gives me a high schooler’s hope, but instead I just stare back and it seems like we will be stuck giving each other looks and stares, as if remembering in case we would never see each other again, which is surely not even close to the case. The case being the decision of who gets which property. 

“That’s fair.” I say, finishing the toast but he still holds his silence, as if I would have any answer to reply to it. And it’s as if that’s all we have to say. It feels as if the days in the house will be long since neither of us suggests of going outside, something to what we have done in the past, but you can never throw the same box of paint twice for it to fall the same way. It’s as if we both know that being the same house would cause drama if we open our mouths. It’s far too early for anything to even open up properly and I wonder if I had woken up due to his rummaging the kitchen without asking. I wondered if it was sad that nothing had changed since he moved out and I wondered how did his apartment look like. I imagined it being a mess, but now looking at him all tidy, I wondered if he had twisted his arm enough to actually being tidy around his house. “No, I’ve been single.”

I don’t add all these years because that feels a bit pathetic to be very honest. I just remain silent after that and I take the remote, figuring that maybe even going out for a coffee would do me good, then maybe he’d be inclined to leave before tomorrow we’d have enough to do. I wonder if staying over, or rather, I hope, is just a method to see how much I love the house and won’t be leaving it. 

I end up smoking all the way as I drive, after excusing myself, thanking dear life that I hadn’t drank coffee with him, my mind bursting with different images as I quickly sketch on a red light against the steering wheel, looking behind me, knowing that it’s too early for anyone’s sunday to go berserk for any reason at all. I end up getting out the car, wondering if I could even run into Lana again, since life is much more complex than a doll house where some kid just stirs more and more drama until it’s a soap opera, but then every life can be a novel no matter how boring it may seem to one, because by the end of it we all go through the same things of loss and love just in different ways. 


I quite like Alison's narrative in this story and I get a big kick writing it. I know, I say many positive feelings about my stories. I'm also thrilled that I managed to keep my two day rule even if I'm dying to sleep now xD and I started it a bit earlier, the binging and kind of went through yesterday and today so that was naturally helpful. Also I've been obsessively listening to Lana's Honeymoon on repeat.

I'm also having Kills withdrawal because I need that new album and I went through a few Kills songs earlier in the evening and even watched The Last Goodbye video for inspiration on this scene.

Okay, rundown of the chapter.

These days I really just binge, because through out the day I have horrid anxiety so there's not that much which inspires me, it's just me and my thoughts. What inspired me a lot was watching The Dead Weather's Alison lyric inspiration video and I knew from just watching it that I'd steal her driving and steering wheel idea for something and here is where it went really xD

I'm stuck bleeding (I prefer that word to avoid dysphoria) so I stuck to my write what you know best, since it's quite hard these days for me to start writing and it's not like anything really changed, because I still nag about what's going on in my head, even if these days there's really no love drama and neither can I say that I've been musing on exes or anything, so my love life is quite settled with Callie and I have no other partners or anything from love interests, so sorry if it's not as fun, I try to think stuff with my mind xD

I think it's easier with age, at least for me to enjoy things, like now I get a kick out of trash tv or I'm getting a kick out of the new Twilight but then I used to be Twilight trash xD so that was an observation I got down or maybe I'm just too depressed these days and it's easy for me to find something enjoyable at times. 

I actually was the first one in my class to be stuck with it and I was awfully embarassed and I hid it, so yeah, ah, dysphoria in my puberty.

I do have a father instinct if you must since I met Callie. So it's different from Alison's but I grew up never wanting to get pregnant so I stuck that in and regarding love as well for Alison. 

I love writing androgynous characters, I really get a kick, I really do xD

My mind goes really blank these days when I'm depressed and it's hard to think about stories, so I gave that to Jamie. 

I really love this story and in the beginning it was my way to cope with the end of Poison the Rose and it grew into something else and that is beautiful ahhaha xD anyway, I just really love it

If you liked it please tell me so:)

Thank you



Thursday, 8 October 2015

Bar Eyes 10

-tracing the blood from my fingers onto the floor, my head aching and already thinking far too much of how to even call my parents. I pressed the hand further onto the floor to stand up and he didn’t protest. I don’t even know how you manage to let go of someone you love because they’ve never loved you then, but loved another bat instead. 

When I was a kid I actually wanted to get eaten by a vampire, sometimes whole so that I wouldn’t exist.

I’m sad that we only know people for a short while.

“I spent a whole summer before I was a vampire fucking up my sleeping cycle. I had insomnia, I couldn’t do anything and I was behind even on opening the bar, by the end of it.” Alex had told me scratching his eyelids both at the same time, as I woke up, wondering when would I become insomniac and nothing would matter anymore, as the days seemed to pass and they seemed to drag some misery, I could barely force myself to wonder what had I found in Jamie, which had to go to work and soon enough I was bored of the same wedding dresses, the rows of leather jackets and I wanted Glasgow back with its dull coloured streets and sneaking out with other peers into pubs underage. I missed the order which hit when I had school. I missed being with my parents and not caring about immortality and some man who had adored a different version of me.

There was nothing wrong with him and he would sleep on the couch or at least pretend to, possibly to kill time and think about how things had been. I didn’t have the guts to ask him how much he had regretted biting me. I wondered how many times would it tick through his head and I just couldn’t relax no matter how much the days went on, it seemed logical that I’d want everything to pass much sooner until some resolution, but instead I wanted no days to end in case the next was the worse of the previous. 

I still couldn’t ask what was going on his mind and neither would he speak. 

I wondered if he was as disappointed in life as I was. 

I wondered how many things would we all have done differently and if so which take was this one that it was so much filled with regret?

And I still wondered how come I couldn’t speak any of this out and how come was he a partner if I had absolutely nothing to say at all and I had no jealousy when I had met him once right after work and he had been talking very long to a flirtatious colleague which I had wondered even knew about me stuck in the trunk, way back in his house. Soon enough she had noticed me and I wondered if she had seen me as some daughter-

How much had he loved me in the previous take then? And how come it was erased like a mistake? And how much bitter did disappointment taste like?

I didn’t feel bitter but I mused on as he noticed me a bit embarrassed, that what if that had been some specific colleague and I wondered if I had been at fault for not wanting anything or that I hadn’t felt any jealousy as well. I just felt a bit at a loss that I had felt nothing and I just had to walk a few streets down to greet him after work, instead of being locked up in my room. I had avoided all social medias until now, no one really to run away from but it seemed odd to even check an Instagram I haven’t used in months or a Facebook I had no idea why I hadn’t deactivated. And seeing Jamie’s face for some reason seemed to throw my stomach in different directions, it wasn’t disgust but it felt as if I had been some odd captured damsel in distress regardless. Only Alex was nowhere to be found and I had no idea what I had wanted either. 

I just had the thought that I felt awful that I hadn’t gotten to know him either and at his house which I know would even think of coming back home after roaming around the city, stopping at random streets which would remind me of certain things or rather the me that would never be now and I wondered how long would it take for the memories to even die off. 

But what I had to deal with was with my decision of trying to get to know Jamie, which just seemed odd and I just offered to walk around the old part of town, just until either of us would manage to talk again and looking at Jamie, I knew that he’d been waiting again. Neither did I know how to start a proper conversation. We just looked at each other baffled and a bit cumbersome and sticking out of the same situation. I couldn’t ask him if he had regretted biting me. 

“I just figured... we should get to know each other.” I said, hoping that it hadn’t sounded sheepish at all. He just waited for me to go on. I still held my pause, in case there was something even something small he wanted to add, because I felt like I had no idea what I was saying. “Because we never got to-”

Then I realized what I had said. I wished I was stuck anywhere for a split second and I had wanted to be somewhere I knew, the pubs to crash with really bad movies inside and people who I could at least vaguely recall just to give a sense of being calm. 

“Well, I never got to.” I said and he seemed relaxed. I wondered if he ever thought that I was angry at him, but the truth was that I wasn’t. Everything seemed to make sense or maybe these were the leftovers parts of a love I’ve always seemed to have for him. 


I've been trying to go to sleep earlier, so I've been breaking down my schedule and I've been overfilled with work and anxiety hadn't been helpful at all. To be honest it was anxiety which has been pushing me a lot behind and depression, so I've been trying my best and I'll force myself next time, no worries

About 1/4 of this chapter was written before, so I was pretty much left writing the rest of it in a few sittings.

I had really bad insomnia and since I've been so badly depressed I've been simply describing what a writer knows best, what they're feeling so I've gone on to describe that as well. 

Also writing Bar Eyes has been hard itself because of my state where I've been dreading everything and just sad about many things, so kind of writing about a city I've loved which I lost entirely and I don't even know if I'll ever have the guts to travel to since it's changed so much and due to my personal revolt at everything which had happened, it really sucks and aches and I had to grieve in this story for Glasgow which I didn't build a bond with at all to be honest. I was in Glasgow for a bit and it was downright miserable, so it's really about switching those two cities here and my experiences really. It's also kind of hard to describe Alison so bored of a city so yeah.

Callie asked me about the colleague which just confirms that to be honest, Alison didn't really think twice of her and it's just used as a comparison on how much indifferent she still feels. 

I've been musing on the ending and I guess we're slowly getting around to rounding it up with the grand finale if you must, I still need to understand where I'll be leaving it off and how. I'm always sad to round up the Kills stories and in general I love them a lot. 

I hope you enjoyed it with all my blood spent on it xD if you can spare a short message that would be lovely, sorry for asking and thank you



Friday, 2 October 2015


What if the inspiration actually does go away?
'How are you going to pay your bills then?' My sister would ask me, her fingers threading through the dog’s ears and I just looked at her, entirely confused and not knowing the answer myself, lighting a cigarette in the small backyard which still had several statues scattered as if the summer was here forever when the winter hours were slowly starting to hit us and the only solution for depression was simply force.

Force to get out of bed.
Force to cook or even order with the phone in the hand, nothing elegant at all with companies not caring about design any longer and the only thing you could fiddle with was some apps as they would put you on hold as you’d tell your order. 

I observed her, not knowing what to say because I hadn’t tamed down anything and it’s been a good while since I haven’t done anything at all. All I had been doing is wailing and discovering that breaking dishes was more effective sounding to Rachel than stretching my arms and trailing the same patterns on my hands. 

My skin felt as if it were the only canvas I had left at all with all the cigarette burns trailing in an elegant staircase with the slashes being the prince’s footsteps in search of Cinderella. And if you’d look close enough, just like any house it would contain a ghost, a ghost of an old lover 

A ghost of an old lover I’d be able to see which had committed suicide long ago, telling me that I would never be the one to leave and that would be okay. Such things are sappy because ghosts are always either the ones who had too much love in their time or had none at all and they are the ones who pick cigarette ashes up and build up their bodies. 

And on something like the first of October is when I knew that being drunk was okay, because I had no inspiration at all and then being drunk wouldn’t change a thing, it is when I saw him on the corner of my eye, I saw him in two locations at once, wandering on the street, lost, confused why had I ended up where I was and stroking my temple.

Because they say you’re either full of love or with none at all. 


It's been... ages since I've written any Manics fanfiction to be honest and I've missed that greatly. This is rather short though and I was stuck thinking what do I even want to write to be very honest. I just had the desire to write some Richey and Nicky. And I've had this ridiuclous fear of writing which was pushing me away from doing it and that's when the idea came to me, because you're supposed to write about what you know and now I know how it's like to be stuck with writing block due to something ridiculous.

Also I've been doing Drawlloween, which is just some themed drawings once a day but I figured that I kind of want that for the story too since I've been stuck and it dawned on me that I haven't seen or can't recall any Richey/Nicky ghost stories really and that's when it all came together to be very honest. 

Also it's not very nice to know that I can't advertise Manics stories with pictures due to certain... people xD so yeah. 

But either way, I just enjoy ghosts and in general spooky stuff so that's why it's all here and I hope you enjoyed this short story of Richey thinking of Nicky's ghost.

Also at this point I'm thinking of a title.

Thank you