My Words

Yeo Valley

2011-10-08T12:54:00.001-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oTrG7mpb61U&feature=youtube_gdata_player

(i can't figure out how to embed videos on my stupid phone!)

A little something I might use for a little something else...

2010-05-25T07:15:00.000-07:00

I never thought I would have to make the choice. I always figured, I would find a boy, fall hopelessly in love, marry said boy, have lots of beautiful little ones, grow old with boy and fall into Heaven with boy. But I was wrong. The map I thought I was following was drawn wrong, the road I was heading down was going in a completely different direction.

Rock-a-bye

2010-05-17T07:22:00.000-07:00

Knock, knock!

Who’s there?

Knock, knock!

Who is it!?

KNOCK!! KNOCK!!

I’m here, are you still there?

Ring a ring a rosie, whispers float through the keyhole.

I’m coming, please wait!

The knocking ceases, silences ensues…

Numbly, I wonder were you were.

Secrectly, I know you were and were my all.

Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye…

Hush hush, don't cry...

And...

All...

Fall...

Down......

The Murder and Life of Reality

2010-04-26T12:26:00.000-07:00

I am tired of the dark. It doesn't frighten me. How can it when I know I it better than anything?

Fantasist knows every swirl of smoke. She knows every deep, black crevice of the dark. I welcomed her in and even she can't get of you.

It was the mistakes that welcomed you in.

Forgive me, Fantasist.

It was her that did it.

She is dead now.

Fantasist knew and Fantasist killed her.

She was young and lost with excuses at every turn.

She had words but too many words for too little action.

She had vibrance but Fantasist did not love her. Who could? Who really knew her?

I did.

Fantasist said she had to die. If she remained Body would die, by her own hand or someone else's. Slow or quick? The speed never mattered, the result did.

Fantasist struck her down in one fell swoop, extinguishing all ambition and hope and so, she welcomed the end.

The why does her shadow remain?

The shadow of her corpse haunts me. Her lifeless eyes stare at me as if to ask why.

Fantasist smirks and bares her teeth.

You were a dark light. You would have brought about the end. You were poison and poison does not create a life.

The corpse screams.

Fantasist turns her back, attempting to choke back the sobs, attempting to hold in the shivers of grief.

My grief.

Dead. Dead.

Dead innocence.
Dead youth.

Dead dreams.

Fantasist is not as pure as she would like to think.

Fantasist is not strong enough to overpower.

Welcome to reality with a fantasist.

Another idea that will probably go unfinished....

2010-04-21T04:11:00.000-07:00

He was gone.

There was no missing the gap in the closet where his clothes had been, the patch on the floor his slippers used to reside on was now bare, the bathroom housed only one toothbrush.

Lori sank to her knees and gazed in wonder and awe at her surroundings, allowing the numbness to take control.

Unfinished questions flew through her mind.

Why did he…?

Where would he…?

What did I…?

There had been no series of rows, not even a single one that could warrant his departure. She wracked her brain not comprehending all that had happened. The events of the previous day and night played through her mind, trying to isolate the one incident that would make him leave her.

They got up. They kissed good-bye when leaving for work. They worked. They got home. They ate dinner. They went to bed. They held each other.

Lori had woken up that morning and he was already gone. Disorientated from lack of sleep, she hadn’t noticed anything was different. She simply shrugged on the clothes that she had laid out the night before and walked out the door.

He was normally home before her. When she would open the door the sounds of the News would filter down the halls bringing a smile to her face. She would kick off her shoes, run into the sitting room and flop onto his lap.

Tonight, there were no voices, no noises, no music. Lori went straight for the bedroom and was greeted by the leer of emptiness.

No discarded clothes on the floor. No sounds of a hot shower being ran. Nothing had been disturbed. All was as she’d left it.

It was just the same but entirely different.

She had no idea how long she'd been kneeling there, not feeling anything but a numbness wash over her. She couldn't recall if she had even thought anything, blinked or taken a breath.

She felt like his half of the closet, empty.

Empty.

That was the one word that began to swim around her mind and that was when the tears started.

Heaving sobs and wretching, she curled into a ball hugging her arms around her in a vain attempt to hold it all together.

Four years they had been together. Four years they had been two, a couple. She never had to worry about being lonely because he was always there. They had been happy, or so she thought.

But right now, the moments of happiness couldn't have been futher away. All the smiles washed away by her tears. There lay a broken woman with pieces of her broken heart scattered and laid bare for her to see.

He was gone.

Confusion in the Dark

2010-04-16T15:56:00.000-07:00

I wander aimlessly down the dark hall.

Straight and narrow with nowhere to turn to.

I walk and walk and there's no sign of an end.

There's no sign of anything.

Indecision clouds my mind, a flurry of the beating wings of my thoughts.

Do I trek back to where I began or do I trek on into the dark?

The answers to unasked questions scream at me... disembodied voices howling in the night,crying at me to listen.

Confusion torments my mind, torments my soul.

Where did I take the wrong turn to end up walking along this path?

How did I end up in the dark without an ounce of spark?

I shall continue... feeling me way in the hopes of someday reaching that light.

Warm, bright and welcoming.

Sheesh, when did I become so emo!?! - being ill makes me odd!

2010-03-03T00:59:00.000-08:00

I close my eyes to welcome the darkness.

It’s warm.

It sweet.

I reach out to the black and feel nothing.

I sigh a sigh of relief.

The nothing is good.

The nothing is safe.

Bittersweet memories rush in to spoil my solitude.

Was I warm, good, sweet and safe in all?

Do not judge me for I judge myself.

Come back, Nothing!

The red glare burns through my eyes to the back of my skull,
Poker-hot from the fires of the forgotten,
Taunting me with it’s reminders.

Dare I open my eyes and let reality seep into my world.

Can reality be better than that which I have created for my private moments…

Seep in, seep in.

Love stuff that I thought might be romantic.... NO SMUT! :)

2010-02-16T01:04:00.000-08:00

The innocent touches of a lover re-ignite the embers of the dwindling fire into a glorious, smoldering flame.

Three words heat the heart and while you thought life, you have never thought a life like this.

The sparkle and twinkle in the eye warm and drunken the soul more than the finest liquor ever construed ever could.

The hushed whispers of adoration.

The first night of tomorrow.

Promise of forever

Kiss for now and then to come

Hope for all that is and will be

Dream

Wish

Never-ending joy

Inspired by a couple who I adore who adore each other....

Where are you, trust?

2010-01-19T04:29:00.000-08:00

Out out brief candle, out I say...

A flicker,

A twinge in direction,

One gust and its gone.

I am unsure how to describe the feeling in my chest. It feels like my heart has shattered with tiny fragments piercing their way through the inner walls of my body.

Trust?

Trust, I say?

Do you?

Do you, I say?

Please is to beg and I am begging.

Love is feel and feel I do.

Its you.

Believe it.

I can't do this alone. For so long its been both, the two, together that I don't know how to exist. You hurt when I hurt. You cry when I cry. I feel when you feel. I see what you see but trust?

Where are you, trust? Do you believe in me?

Trust, come back to me and show him how to.

Yesterday

2009-11-17T08:54:00.000-08:00

I feel the pain of the past.

I cry the tears of yesterday,

what could have been

and what cannot become.

Fade into the darkness,

The euphoric emptiness of the abyss.

Let your light not shine on me.

It burns and cuts and rots the flesh.

The hate breaks my soul.

Let me live my now.

Let me let you go.

Lose the Lost

2009-10-13T07:07:00.001-07:00

Bright lights killing me,
Daggers of sun striking me,
Searing shine blinding me,
The summons for help are screamed.

Save me from the torment of day.

Stop the hours of time and age.

Smiling night come quick,
Come quiet.

Stealthily does it.

Envelope me in your darkness,
Smother me in your velvet nothing.

Lock me in your box.
The safe that will guard me from the pain.

Throw the key to the places of the lost.

Forget the eternal me
To
Receive the eternal gratitude.

Diary of a WW (NOT ME- all fiction) - not for children - part two - Getting to know me...

2009-10-08T02:26:00.000-07:00

I’ve been thinking more and more about what David said to me and I guess I have to admit in some ways he’s right. I am a bit lonely and I do want that special someone to hold me when I go to sleep at night and wake me up with kisses in the morning.

There are two problems with this though…

The first being that I don’t believe that such a man woman or beast exists.

The second being that I am just not bothered about sex. Why would I want a quivering, heavy-breathing lump of blubber (them, not me) floundering its way around my body? Big, small, fat, skinny… I don’t want it near my nether-regions.

Nether-regions…

I have been wondering for a while what the fuss is all about. I hear tell of all this waxing that women get done. The very limited amount of times I’ve picked up and flicked through women’s magazine at the dentists there seemed to be a new name for the vagina and the torturous beauty treatments that can be done to it.

Fanjita – Vagina

Minge – Hair on Vagina/Vagina itself

Fanny – Arse (American English or Vagina (UK English)

Love Garden – Vagina

Hole – depending on the fella this could mean back or front

Why all these names? None of which are particularly attractive. However, it must make the dirty talk very colourful indeed.

The waxing. I’ve never had anything waxed before but I have cut myself shaving and if I’m crippled with the stinging sensational when the shaving gel goes into the wound, I dread to think what having all your hair ripped off with glue must feel like.

Brazilian, Californian, strip… Confusing to say the least and not to mention the €60 or more you pay to have some trannie looking beautician to torture you for half an hour. No thank you… I’m a firm supporter of Bush and the war on the members of the other sex.

Not sure what this is - but thought it was a poetic line....

2009-10-02T07:48:00.000-07:00

Your drunken whispered words are poison washing over me, enveloping me in death and hate.

Diary of a WW (Not me - all fiction) - not for children - part two - Getting to know me...

2009-10-01T01:58:00.000-07:00

I have a brother (Oh, let the excitement begin) and he works his way through ‘bitches’ (as he calls them) faster than a rabbit on viagra in mating season. Actually come to think of it this is probably where my hatred for the S word came from. He goes out 6 nights a week and brings home a different floozie each of these nights. I was curious once and asked him why he didn’t go out every night and release his pent up sperm from that one night of solitude, to which I got the reply ‘And on the seventh day, God rested’… Oh Lord!

I guess this wouldn’t bother me so much except for the fact that I have to live with the little cretin and when I’m trying to sleep at night the last thing I want to be hearing through the paper thin walls of my apartment are the exaggerated screams of ‘Wow, you’re, like, soooo big……. I want it in me now!’ (Pardon the use of censorship on this one, there are some things that even I can’t bring myself to write).

Also, when I say I live with him, one would correctly assume that he pays rent. Well, this is how the conversation that led up to his moving in went:

‘Hello?’

‘Hey shitface!’

‘Hello David, what do you want?’

‘How come you think that just because I ring my only sister and only sibling for that matter, that I have to be looking for something?’

‘Again, what do you want?’

‘Can I come and visit you for a week?’

‘OK, but…’

Saying ‘OK’ before ‘But’ was a tiny bit of a mistake as he’d already hung up when I tried to continue. This was 6 months ago.

David has some nasty habits but its his constant need to dip his quill in some ink that has to be the worst. He goes out and comes home five hours later with things that a dog wouldn’t even cross the road to sniff.

He thinks I’m uptight because I don’t get laid enough. This is not the kind of stuff that a brother should be saying to his younger sister. The fact of the matter is that I’m uptight because I don’t get any sleep from Monday right through until Sunday. Honest to God, I hope he uses condoms because the last thing this world needs is a load of mini-hims running riot around the place.

In fact, I would hazard a guess that it was him who unleashed the plague of herpes…

With any luck, he’s infertile.

Diary of a WW (not me - all fiction!!!!) - Not for children....

2009-09-30T08:41:00.000-07:00

I’m a boring old sod and I have no activities that interest me. I find sports painfully boring or even just painful. I don’t like going out because I don’t like getting dressed up. Make-up! Who would actually want to paint their face with that crap that has hundreds of spot-inducing chemicals (I will give you that one. I don care enough about my appearance enough not to want to look like I’ve just gotten out of a bad dose of small pox) and as for everything else, who care?

Oh yeah, did I mention that I’m a sixe thirty and am five foot six? Now, imagine I put that onto an online dating agency. One of two things would happen. Wither I wouldn’t get any calls or emails or I’d get a load of fetish freaks harassing me for naked photos of me covering myself with whipped cream and toffee. Weirdos who want to see a fat whale indulging herself with a banana. Yum, just the kind of blokes I’d like to meet…. (!).

To be honest, I don’t really like other people. I’m not racist, ageist, sexist or any of the other –ist words out there. I just don’t like people in general. It’s my firm belief that no-one really can care about anyone other than themselves. Human beings as a whole are selfish entities.

Look at Adam and Eve for example. They were literally made for each other. Adam was a lonely git that God made to show his likeness on earth (blah-di-blah) and then Adam got a bit horny (that may not mentioned in the bible but come on!) and asked for some company. God rips out his rib and makes a wife for him. Just like that, God made woman.

Adam and Eve loved each other very much but, to be fair, they were the only two people in the world so there weren’t that many options. There was no-one to commit adultery with, no-one to flirt with and I’m sure at this stage that God had let them know that bestiality was a sin so really it was a case of like it and hump it or get hairy palms. This was religions first man/woman love affair… but no, love is not exactly the label I would put on it.

Then you’ve got your fictional melodramatic love affairs and how could I speak about this one without mention the two and only Romeo and Juliet. Ah, true romance. The greatest love story ever told. However when you take into consideration Shakespeare wrote the parts to be played by two fourteen years (and I won’t go into the fact that in his day there were no female actors), I wouldn’t exactly call it true love. Puppy love, yes but the greatest love of all time it is not.

I have a theory about this pair. I firmly believe that they were in it for a bit of action. No TV’s, games consoles, etc.

So Juliet drinks this weird sleeping potion so she can fake her own death and get out of an arranged marriage to this Paris chappy because she was already secretly married to Romeo. She knows that once word gets out about her ‘death’ Romeo will some running home to her (had to leg it due to a little murdering of her cousin, Tybalt). She knows that he adores her and can’t live without her (presumably she didn’t know about his little obsession with Rosaline just before he met her). But did she make Romeo aware of her plans by way of a letter or messenger…. No. This was bound to work out!

So she drinks the poison, he goes to see her body and kills himself out of grief. She wakes up and realises that it probably won’t look good with her, miraculously alive, and his corpse laying on top of her (big row between the Capulet’s and the Montague’s so chances are this wouldn’t help things). But I will give credit where credit is due, she realised that had indeed fucked up royally and kills herself to avoid the heat.

This was not about love. It was a case of an adventure going terribly wrong and poor Romeo was just the poor delusional rodent who got blinded by her headlights.

I would just like to state for the record that I am not bitter.

It’s just that sex seems to feed everything. Turn on the TV and all you see is sex. Pick up a magazine and all you can read about is the best way to give head – ‘Use a mouthful of champagne to really rev him up’ or ‘One cube of ice in your mouth is a sure-fire way to keep him hot’. Go to the pub or a night club and all you will see is girls and guys shooting pheromones at each other and practically screaming ‘Ride me now’ to anyone who’ll look their way.

Also, I am not a virgin so it’s not a case of me being the little fatty who can’t get laid and is complaining about the ‘greatest’ feeling ever that I haven’t had.

Before my first time I was under the sad illusion that sex was meant to be this amazing, romantic, earth-shattering, tow-tingling experience. But what I ended up with was a sore arse (And not in the way you’re thinking) and a condom hanging out the back of my jeans.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t have a problem with sex in general – just the people who have it.

‘Oh! My! God! He f***ed me so good last night!’
Translation – ‘I’m not sure he was in there’

‘He was so sweet and gentle’
Translation – ‘He got it in the wrong hole’

‘He knew exactly what he was doing’
Translation – ‘He was a great big virgin’

Or from a male perspective…

‘She was a real goer’
Translation ‘I could have gotten more excitement from a dead cow’

‘She blew me for ages’
Translation – ‘I couldn’t get it up’

‘We were at it all night’
Translation – ‘We cuddled and feel asleep together’

Lies, lies and… oooh, what’s that? More lies. Who actually cares who’s doing who, who’s pulling who and who’s as frigid as a freezer. Everyone on this planet is a total and complete hypocrite!

Linked - full first chapter now up

2009-09-29T03:29:00.000-07:00

Ok, thats the first chapter of my book done, dusted and put online for your consideration. I'm currently working on the second but I won't be uploading it. I would really appreciate any comments, suggestions and feedback anyone might have on the chapter.

You'll find it further down the blog - I decided to edit the original post rather than update the blog each time because I wanted to keep the whole thing together.

I hope you enjoy it... :) And PLEASE (!) let me know what you think.

GO!

2009-08-20T03:52:00.001-07:00

I open my eyes and I still see the darkness. It entices me with its promise of nothingness. It envelops me in its sickly sweet aroma. It carries me on its waves of cold. Nothing will be a welcome cross to bear…

Why am I letting the memories of you taunt me?

Fade! Leave!

I shout. There is no sound. You merely stand there gazing at me with bright eyes shining with respect and admiration.

Dim the lights!

I can’t break your stare. Even if I could I close my eyes but I could still feel it, I could still see it.

The warmth of you burns me right down to my very soul. I said sorry, what more can I do. What’s done cannot be undone. What’s lost cannot be found. What’s dead cannot relive.

Stop!

You don’t. You are perfect. The face of an angel, the eyes of a wise and noble god. The feelings of love and adoration are intolerable. I would gladly bleed myself dry to forget you. To forget your feeling. To forget any meaning you have to me.

I don’t deserve your respect. I am a coward. I let you go. I hurt you in order to let you go and now you come back to taunt me with your love.

Why hasn’t your love stopped? I did it to you. Remember that and hate me. I don’t want to see you. I can’t bear it anymore.

I said my goodbyes, why can’t you?

Hate me! Loathe me!

Forget me…

All For You

2009-08-10T06:11:00.000-07:00

I close my eyes in the hope of dreaming.

I try to dream in the hope of sleeping.

I fall to my sleep to feel you more.

I yearn to feel more to keep you here with me.

I see you.
I feel you.
I want you.
I need you.

Don’t go.

Never leave.

Be with me.
Stay with me.

I won’t hurt you.
I won’t slight you.
I won’t ruin you.

I’ll save your good times,
I’ll shield your bad times.

I’ll make you.

Be mine.

To touch.
To dream.
To feel.

To be.

random bit

2009-07-29T04:08:00.000-07:00

I close my eyes in a vain attempt to escape the world. Two minutes, that’s all I need, just two minutes of dark, deep, calm serenity. I will not think. I will let the emptiness wash over me. I can almost feel the mist of nothing clouding my mind. I feel at ease.

At long last, I feel at ease.

I lay there. Numb. Free of all the thoughts that plague me. All the thoughts that threaten to break me every second of every minute of every day.

Prick, prick, prick.

I constantly feel them attack me like little needles scraping my skin.

Prick, prick, prick.

The ice slowly melts and everything comes flooding back. I don’t open my eyes. If I do, then it’s all real again. Everything that I placed into the little locked box at the back of my mind becomes me again.

I yearn for the empty.

I yearn for the nothing.

I yearn for the dark.

A White Rose - John Boyle O' Reilly

2009-07-28T08:45:00.000-07:00

"The red rose whispers of passion,
And the white rose breathes of love;
O, the red rose is a falcon,
And the white rose is a dove.

But I send you a cream-white rosebud
With a flush on its petal tips;
For the love that is purest and sweetest
Has a kiss of desire on the lips"

Just thought I'd add this as I'm feeling all lovey today for some reason... should really stop that! :-)

random slushy stuff

2009-07-28T07:32:00.000-07:00

It’s so hard to know what to do when they leave you.

The feeling of alone and yet, there’s a numbness to it all.

Everything is so dark but, you feel like the lights are blinding you.

Everything you touch burns you, but then again, freezes you.

The feelings you thought you knew aren’t the same any more.

But that’s how it feels when you leave them, too. I loved her more than I have ever loved anyone in my whole life. She made me smile all the time, even when she cried, purely because she was there with me.

I knew her better than I knew myself. She didn’t have to ask the questions because I’d already told her the answers. I

Every breath I took was a breath for her. Every time I blinked felt like an eternity in darkness because for that one split second, I couldn’t see her. It was love. Real, throbbing, painful, beautiful and true. That was why I had to go.

I hadn’t thought about it. If I’d thought about it then she would have known. We were one. She would have left with me. It’s not that I didn’t want her anymore, or that I didn’t want to be with her anymore. It’s that I needed to find more. More of what, I was not certain but that curiosity would not fade.

It had started off as a glimmering doubt and as much as I tried to ignore it, it grew into a blinding light that would not fade.

I spent that last night with her hoping that maybe the feeling of uneasiness would die. As she lay in my arms I stroked her hair, I took in her scent, I tried to memorise every part of her so that she would never leave my mind. I didn’t want that night to end. I didn’t want to have to do this, and then with an unyielding and searing ray of light…. Dawn broke and my time alive was up.

**********

‘I’ll always be here,’ he whispered as he stroked her neck. ‘Remember that!’

Blushing at these words, she turned away from him.

He gently cupped her chin in his hands and tilted her face towards him.

‘I mean it, no matter what I’m there…’ and then he kissed her.

Soft, caring almost apprehensive at first and then the kisses became filled with desire. A want. A need for her. She returned that need. She had always hoped and dreamt that this would happen for her but never fully believed that it would.

His scent enveloped her. It scared and warmed her. His arms protected her from the pain and she melted at his touch. Each kiss drowned her. Each touch made her more and more his. Two bodies so cemented together, they could never be torn apart…

She shivered as she stared out the window of her bedroom. The midnight sky was just so beautiful. Each star was like an ounce of hope for her. Hope that one day life would be different. Each twinkle sending a shiver up her spine. Waiting to see another falling star to make another wish that everything would change.

She shook her head. She’d been staring out that window for so long and had completely lost track of time. She pulled herself away from the window and lay down in bed. Things weren’t always this bad. She hadn’t been this lonely in a long time. But then again there had been him. He had always been there for her. He was her best friend. He was always there to listen. She could talk to him all night to talk and he’d make her forget any problem or pain.

Soon, he began to kiss away the pain away. It was even better than the talking, the words and whispers sombined. Feeling his lips on hers made the world melt away. Feeling his hands run through her hair and playfully tugging it made everything magical. The world sparkled when he was there.

Then he was gone.

She didn’t know where he went or why. All she knew was that he was gone. She couldn’t get in contact with him. No-one had any idea where to find him. And so, the world lost gleam and descended into darkness for her. Closing her eyes, she curled into a pillow. Praying to dream she allowed herself to slip into a slumber.

Linked - updated 28th September 2009

2009-07-13T06:28:00.000-07:00

And so I descend into the black hole of despair. Deeper and Deeper I fall. A flash of red and the soothing pain eases my troubled mind. Hurt, hurt, I urge it on. Flowing magnificently, I see life’s water. Beautiful, pure, bright and innocent. More, more, I beg it to keep going. I can’t tear my eyes away. I can’t move. I simply want to stay there forever feeling the slight sting of death. It comforts me.Carefully I lay the blade onto the satin material, longingly looking at the residue of my life shining in the dim light. I bite my lip. I don’t want to put it away. I want to finish it but I’m afraid.I wrap the satin around it enjoying the sight of the red liquid being absorbed into the delicate material. Soon. Soon.

***************

The hot glare of the bright sun woke John. Squinting in the light he felt his way to his jeans, trying not to open his eyes too wide as then the hangover would hit him. He sat on the edge of his bed holding his head in his hands. Christ, he thought, what the hell did I do last night?

He tried hard to get the memories to come back to him. He had been at work, left promptly at half five and wandered aimlessly around some shops. He remembered thinking ‘I’ll just go for one quick pint’ and that’s where it all seemed to stop.

He was used to taking drug after drug and never suffering any kind of memory loss. While he couldn’t be too sure, coke was the only thing he had taken that night. It was all he had on him when he had been at work.

It had been a tough day with call after call coming in. It seemed like every computer had conspired against him to break down. A virus.

One of the temps had been stupid enough to click on an offer for free porn and so had downloaded a worm that had infected the entire network. He had spent the best part of the day on the phone telling people that ‘Yes, I am aware of the problem’ and ‘Yes, we all should be back online by the evening’. This didn’t seem good enough for the managing director so John just put the phone down on his desk for the five minutes the shouting went on. Half five came and John did not care if the computers were back online or not. He was getting out of there.

He took a few deep breaths while massaging his temples. Slowly building the pressure on the outside of his skull in a vain attempt to avoid the climax of his hangover. There was movement from behind him and he couldn’t help but jump up.

Now that his eyes were open he realised he wasn’t in his apartment like he had assumed. The room was unfamiliar and feminine. Shit, was the only word that came to John’s mind.

‘Hey’ came a lazy greeting. John took a sharp intake of breath and turned to face his bedfellow.

She smiled at him and he couldn’t help be grateful that she was pretty with bright green eyes and dark brown hair. The blanket was wrapped around her and so he couldn’t examine that body that had been his the night before.

‘Hi,’ he replied, blushing at the fact that he could not remember her name.

Still smiling she beckoned him to come back to bed. He stood rooted to the spot, not quite knowing what was the right thing to do. Should he ignore the fact that he has no idea who this girl is and hop back into bed with her? Am I that much of a prick, he thought. Or should he cut his losses and run, making up some lame excuse of having to work? It’s Saturday – damn, he thought.

John ignored his conscience and his hangover and pulled off his jeans. She smiled once more at him and turned her back. He couldn’t help but admire the sexy curve of her, the toned muscles of her back. The way her hair was swept across the pillow leaving her neck bare and vulnerable. If he had ever really thought about leaving, he had definitely changed his mind.

**************

What have I done? She manoeuvred herself into the crook of his arm. He felt oddly uncomfortable with this and wished he had left when the option had been there, if it ever really was. The feel of her soft, warm skin seemed to repel him, pushing him more and more towards the door. He eyed it longingly.

How do I subtly ask her what her name is? I should have admitted just admitted I couldn’t remember anything. Not how I met her, not where I met her, nothing. Ideas of what he could have done flew through him but it was too late for that now. The current problem was how to get the hell out of there before he got any deeper

It wasn’t that it hadn’t been fantastic but there was too much of the previous night missing for him to really let himself go and immerse release himself in her. He held the bridge of his nose in deep thought trying to coax back images. Some sort of signal that would enable him to piece together the puzzle. She began stoking his thigh.

“What are you thinking about?” she whispered, each word tickling his ear. John sighed but couldn’t reply. She didn’t stop stroking him.

“Well?” she asked, her mouth moving tantalisingly closer to his. Her breath sweet and fresh, her words soft and caring, her body pressing closer to him, her grip on his thigh getting tighter.

John realised he couldn’t do this. He opened his eyes and looked directly into hers. They were bright and shining with lust. He knew what he had to do.

“Good-bye”

It was all he could say. He pulled away from her and got out of the bed. He didn’t dare look at her again. He grabbed his clothes and threw them on. Inside-out, back-to-front, he didn’t care. It was how he felt at this moment in time.

She wasn’t saying anything. The silence was deafening. Internally he shuddered.

Be a prick, be a prick.

He threw a half-glance back at her, never meeting her eyes. “Thanks.”

The last thing John heard as he walked out the door was “Go fuck yourself”. He head drooped. The venom and hurt in her words stung him. It was what he wanted. It was what he had deserved.

The closeness was too close. He didn’t know her but he could tell that she knew him. He had no idea what he had told her or what they had shared. It was a moment lost in time, never to be found.

John shoved his hand in his pocket, probing, searching for it. He felt the tip of the plastic and gently pulled it out. Coke. Coke would give him the clarity he ached for. He nervously waited for the elevator, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other, wanting his moment of privacy. As the elevator opened, he stepped in and pulled a coin from his pocket. He flicked it over and over again begging the doors to close.

The sight of the tiny pile of white powder made him feel better. His heart was thumping in his chest. His blood was rushing through his veins in anticipation. He held the coin to his nose and took a deep breath in. He couldn’t help but release a gasp of happiness with the feeling of it already working. Tidying his nose, he pressed the ground floor button.

********

Jim peeled his face from the edge of the leather couch. ‘Fuck’, he groaned wiping the sleep from his eyes. He could still taste the remainder if the kebab in his mouth. He had known it was going to be bad idea but he just needed something that wasn’t cider in his system.

He always forgot after a few pints how bad it was to bring hash into the mix. The way the paper would shake in his hand. How he would drop most of his weed and tobacco when trying to roll it. He would watch the money he had spent on it fall to the ground. Jim never bothered trying to pick it up, being far too vain to look that desperate.

It was always worth it for that first smell of the joint as you lit it, to feel that first wave of magic sift through your lungs and to finally feel relaxation like you’d never known it before.Jim’s throat ached as he remembered the burning from the night before. The cider had had all the wrong effects on him. He would never blame his hash. It had to have been the cider.

Bleary-eyed he looked around his sitting room. Nothing seemed too out of place. There was a load of dried out tobacco on his sitting room table. Two cans by the couch. One must have been knocked in the middle of the night and was somehow balanced at a forty-five degree angle threatening to spill at any moment. Impressive, thought Jim feeling oddly triumphant.

The remainder of his kebab lay on the kitchen counter, looking more like a mangled animal than it probably had when the Turks got to it. Nothing was broken. Everything seemed to be in order but best of all it seemed as though no one had come back with him.

He slumped back against the back of the couch and closed his eyes, trying to think about why he had gone out in the first place.He had called in sick that morning. He and Lisa had had a vicious argument the night before. He couldn’t be too sure what it was about. He never knew what it was about. Oftentimes he would come home and she would be waiting for him, snarling and ready to pounce. But this time she had left.Something about there being no direction, evolution or promise.

Jim smiled to himself.‘Evolution!’ he laughed out loud to the empty flat. She’d been reading Charles Darwin and some self-help books and decided that relationship and the theory of survival of the fittest were related. Thus she came up with the crazy theory that Jim was in the relationship for convenience.

If this is what convenient is, I want my money back, he thought ruefully.He scratched the top of his head hard and flattened out his hair. That was it, the argument had happened. She stormed out to go back to her mothers and he lit a spliff. His phone had rang and rang and rang. Jim didn’t bother to check it. He knew it was Lisa and that the second he answered the phone she would begin yet another argument with him but this time it would be the fact that he clearly wasn’t worried about her and where she was…

Damn women, he thought to himself. She had said that she was going to her mothers and so he assumed she would go there. ‘Never assume anything…’ he whispered to himself/
Water! Jim suddenly realized that his tongue felt like sandpaper scraping off the roof of his mouth. He heaved himself from the couch. It was a much greater effort than he had anticipated. Every muscle seemed to ache with each slight movement. It was like tiny razor blades scraping off his fibers more so than the dull ache of too much exercise.

He tried to ignore the pain and went to make his way to the sink. The smell hit him. At first, he thought it must be the kebab but then as he got closer and closer to the sink, the more rancid the odor became. He looked down and heaved.

Jim realized that he must have been even worse than usual last night and he was never more grateful that Lisa hadn’t been at home. The fight that would have followed this instance would be too much. The kebab had definitely been too much for his system to handle and he had emptied his gut on top of two day old dishes.

With a sigh, Jim reached out to turn the tap and that was when he noticed the gash along his arm. Blank. He couldn’t recall anything about it. He stared at the dried blood that decorated his arm and the flecks of deep scratches that ran from his wrist to his elbow.

‘Ah shit!’

He was going to have a tough time explaining this one. He had clearly gotten in a row. Jim knew he had let himself down. It had been years since he had let his twitch get out of hand and manifest itself into an all out rage. The last time he had ended up in hospital with a broken nose, two broken ribs and a fractured collar-bone and he’d swore until he was blue in the face to Lisa that it would never happen again. Just like he swore that he was off the smoke.

He let the hot water cascade over the plates and turned to walk towards the bathroom. If his arm was this bad, he had to see what happened to the rest of him. He shuffled down the dark hall, past his bedroom on the left, past the spare room on his right, past the hot press on his left, finally stopping at the bathroom. He took a deep breath and stepped into the light.

Jim placed both of his hands on the sink for support and looked up into the mirror and gasped.

His face was fine. Not one hint of a bruise or any kind of evidence that he had been in a fight. His brain was starting to hurt from trying to piece everything together. He looked from his arm to the mirror. None of this made sense.

********

John’s hangover was fading as quickly as the elevator went down. The miraculous white powder was doing its job well. He didn’t want to gain more of a dependency on the drug but in order to stop he would have to quit drinking and that was not a road he was willing to go down yet.

The elevator opened. John checked the floor number. Third. He was feeling twitchy. He wanted to go home and delve further into his memories of last night and try to piece together how it was he ended up in that girls apartment.

He winced slightly at the memory of what he had just done. He had been sure that he was gone past the fucking around days. He didn’t quite want to settle down but he was tiring of the scene. The akward next mornings. The times when he had forgotten to give them a fake number and the texts flooded in for a week afterwards.

He used to find the female mentality fascinating in the way the messages would start on the first day (or the very rare day they’d wait until the second day so as not to seem too eager) as grateful for whatever ever it was he had done for them the night in question and as each message was ignored and each phone call was cancelled without being answered, they’d grow more and more venomous. It used to make him laugh. He’d share them with his friends. Pathetic little girls trying to bag ‘The One’. But right now laughing was the furthest thing from what he wanted to do.

He needed to get home, dissect the night, open a cool bottle straight from the fridge and bury his face in a mountain of coke.

‘Thank fuck for Saturdays’, John murmured to himself.

‘Excuse me?’

It was only then that John realised he had company in the elevator.

An elderly man had stepped in while John had been lost in thought. John smiled at the man and said ‘ Don’t mind me, rough night last night’. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets so he wouldn’t be as obvious fiddling with his fingers and made a concious effort not to be licking his gums.

The man simply returned John’s smile without saying a word.

The elevator seemed to grow suddenly hot. John could feel the beads of sweat gathering on the back of his neck. He refused to remove his hands from his pockets for fear he would tremble. He could feel the man’s eyes on him, examining him. Each wave of paranoia swept over him, drowning him in its tension. John bent his head to the left and then to the right. The crack resounded through the elevator. He was sure he could see the man jump from the corner of eye. He didn’t look directly at him for fear of scaring the man. He was pretty sure he looked dodgy. Finally the lift came to a grinding halt on the ground floor.

The elder of the two flew from the lift as fast as his cane would take him. John stalled to allow the man to make his exit. He didn’t want to speak to the man again either. He needed to get home but for now, he had to figure out where he was.

END CHAPTER

The Here Right Now

2009-07-08T02:01:00.000-07:00

'When was the last time you were really happy?' - a quote from a film that I went to see the other week and its stuck with me. Now, I'm not being melodramatic when I say I genuinely don't know.

Sure, I remember the last time I felt happy. That lovely warm bubble getting bigger and bigger inside you and the world is all puppies and rainbows but deep inside there's always some nagging insecurity, doubt, anger or sadness. So honestly, I can say I really cannot remember the last time I was truly happy.

The problem, it seems, is that I just don't know what makes me happy. Everyday my interests change. Everyday something new arises that I say 'Oh yeah, I want to do that' but that is simply a case of I'll do anything that isn't what I'm doing right now. Its the right now that I can't stand but when will the right now ever end?

As they say, 'Tomorrow never comes'...

*sigh*

Sometimes I look around me and while I'm constantly surrounded by people I'm all alone. Its not in a self-pitying way but in the way where nothing I'm thinking could possibly make sense to anyone else.

I dream all the time. Its like my mind is split in two. One side is in the here and now and carrying out my daily tasks to the best of its abilities but the other side is somewhere I can only hope to end up. My problem is I see that bright and happy place but I have absolutely no idea how to get there.

Miles and miles away are my dreams. Which path do I take? Right or left? Right or wrong? It seems to me that I seem to be on the road to nowhere.

But somewhere there is a sun waiting to shine in my sky. Somehow the stars will shine for me and I will be truly happy.

song

2009-07-01T02:04:00.000-07:00

Sing a song for the broken one,
Sing a song for life,
Hum a tune for one who’s done,
Hum a tune for life.

Gone

2009-06-23T01:17:00.000-07:00

The numbness fades,
Shattering pain,
The ache,
Splinters Into your heart,
One look,
One whisper,
Right back,
No avoiding.
The emptiness.
The stillness.
The Silence.
Vacant.
Reflections,
Unmoving,
Stagnant.

But fight.

Downfall

2009-06-23T01:16:00.000-07:00

So what if you hate me? What do you expect me to do about it? I don’t particularly like you either. You make me feel insignificant – so tiny – and I’m too old to let someone like you do this to me. You think I don’t see it.

You think I’m too wrapped up in trying to be funny, trying to get everyone to like me, too self-absorbed to know what you are actually doing. You can push your way. You can fight for the place that you think is yours, I won’t stop you. In fact I’ll step aside and let you do what you think is right for you.

When you fall, I will not laugh.

I will reach out my hand to pick you up but then I will walk away. I won’t wait for the thanks that I know won’t come. I’ve met many people like you.

I am a drifter, you see. I let people think that know me, think that they know the inner workings of my mind, think they know what makes me but no-one does. I refuse to let people in because it’s people like you who will do everything in your limited power to get them to hate me. And, for some reason it always works.

I’m only human and so I will slip and fall and stumble my way through life. I will be stepped on by people like you but I refuse to be your stepping stone to wherever it is you want to go or you want to do.

I’m not jealous of you.

I pity you. You won’t be able to hold that mask in front of your face for long. It will slide away revealing the ugliness that lurks inside of you. I can already see it in your eyes. You will trust the wrong person and then will come your downfall. I will not be a part of this downfall. I will not help to hurt you in any way and for that I give my word.

But, I do promise you, I will be watching…

Alone (short play)

2009-06-16T00:55:00.000-07:00

Tara lyons is a twenty something year old girl. Walk with head down. Sleeves over hands. Tiny bit twitchy

Counsillor – older man (has to be a man), slightly graying hair, dressed casually

Set up is two chairs (want to keep minimalistic so the feeling of nothingness and cold are kept)

Man is looking through a file. Checks watch. Go’s to stage left (pretend door)

Man:Tara Lyons?

No reply but he waits while Tara walks through ‘door’.

He beckons for her to sit. She hesitates at first and then sits. Man sits opposite her.

Man:So Tara, I’m here to listen to anything you want to say. I want you to know that you can feel comfortable here. Nothing that is said within this room will leave this room.

Tara nods.

Pause

Man clears his throat.

Tara: I’m not sure why I here to be honest.

Man:Ok… why do you think you came here?

Tara:I don’t know. (pause) Something happened and I think maybe I…uh…need to say it out loud to believe its real. I can't forget what happened.

Pause

Man:And what was that, Tara?

Tara:I was on my way home. I took the shortcut behind the old church. It takes about five minutes off my walk home… (gasp of nervous laughter)…

Pause

Tara:Before I knew what was happening someone grabbed me. I didn’t see them. They came from behind. There was no time to scream.

PauseTara looks at counsillor

Tara (whisper):Why aren’t you saying anything?

Man:Tara, that isn’t my place. You have to want to tell me yourself. You have to want to be ready to tell me.

Tara takes a deep breath

Tara:I am…

Pause

Tara:He caught me around the waist and something was shoved into my mouth. I thought someone had to see me... Someone had to help me... I prayed...

Tara closes her eyes.

Tara:I closed my eyes as he dragged me. I knew where I was and what was happening to me. I didn't need to see. I thought that maybe... maybe if I couldn't see, then it wasn't really happening.

Longer pause.

Tara takes deep breath, holds it and exhales slowly. Voice is getting shakier at this point.

Tara:I could feel his hands shaking. His breath was heavy on my neck. My heart was beating hard and fast. He fumbled his way up my top... His hands were so rough. They were like ice. It was so cold and then... he was inside me...

Voice is getting louder and trembling more.

Tara:His grunting kept getting louder and louder. I couldn't breathe. I was dying inside. He was taking everything from me.(Getting hysterical now)

Tara:It felt like it went on for hours and finally... he pulled himself off me. I thought this must be it. He's going to let me go. The tears were flowing from my shut eyes. He stood up. I could hear him zipping up his trousers and sighing and then...he hit me.

Tara looks puts face in her hands breathing heavily

Pause

Man:Tara, are you ok?

Tara (ignoring the question):I thought I couldn't hurt anymore but there it was. Then came the next blow and the next... He wouldn't stop.

Pause

Man: So what happened then?

Tara: I guess I just blacked out...

Man: And when you woke up?

Tara: It was morning and he was gone. I stood up and walked home. It wasn't until I looked into the mirror that I saw what I looked like...

Man: And what did you look like?

Tara: My face was blue and purple. I could barely see because my eyes were so swollen. The buttons were ripped off my jeans and I was covered in mud... There was blood too...

Man: You mean your face was bleeding?

Tara: No, not my face.

Pause

Tara(almost a whisper): I was a virgin...

Pause

Man: Tara?

Tara(speech a bit staggered at the start but gets hysterical by the end): I feel torn. My head hurts all the time! My body hurts even more when I think about it. I can feels his hands on me all of the time. It's like...like they're burned into my skin. I can hear his breathing every time I close my eyes. I can still hear the people laughing as they walk by without even realizing what's happening right beside them... (takes sharp deep breaths)

Man: Tara, you need to start talk about it in the past tense. It's all over now. You're safe now.

Tara: How could you say I'm safe. I'll never be safe. You don't understand. I live through this all the time. I'm stuck in that one moment. It's as if it happens to me everyday and no-one will help me!!!

Pause

Man: Tara?

Tara: They wouldn't help me. They had to have heard something. How could they let this happen to me. It's all their fault. They did this to me. If they had just seen me. It was at the side of the road. What if they'd paid attention? They would have seen his face and then I could have done something about it but what happened? What did they do? NOTHING!! They left me laying there...bleeding. Even if they hadn't stopped it maybe they could have seen him leaving me there. I couldn't leave the house for weeks. I had to hide from my family. I was beaten to within an inch of my life that day and I couldn't tell anyone. I had something so precious taken from me that night. I bled for days. I lost a part of who I was and you sit there asking me questions about it trying to make me feel better! You have no idea. You're a man anyway. You probably applaud him for it. You're probably sitting there thinking 'Well didn't you deserve it you stupid bitch? You were walking home alone, hammered, from a night out!' Yeah, that's exactly whats going through your head. My life was ruined that night and you're on his side!!!

Pause

Man: Tara, who do you really blame for what happened that night?

Pause Man: Tara, who do you blame?

Tara: Myself... Man: Why, Tara? Tara: It was all my fault... I shouldn't have been walking there alone. I just thought that since all the girls had gotten with guys, I'd be in their way. I didn't want to stay there by myself. I'm always the one left standing there on my own. I was tired of wandering around...I thought I was I was doing the right thing by walking home. I wasn't drunk. I hadn't even been drinking that night. When I left, I felt like ****... I hated myself... I hated everything about myself. I was the one who walked out there alone...I was looking for trouble... Who could blame that guy? (dejected tone for end of this)

Man: What are you trying to say, Tara?

Tara: I handed myself to him. It was all my fault...all my fault. Maybe I wanted this to happen... All my fault....