Bits and pieces

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Look forward to reading and seeing more, you better start another thread.

What if my new thread ends up being really fucking lame and all I talk about is what I talk about here but over there?

Now look what you've done. I'm all writing in this weird circular way that circumvents back to where it wasn't going and nowhere where it started when I first started writing back when I was probably around.... maybe 7 or eight when I commandeered my father's Smith and Corona Coronna? however you fucking spell it typewriter.

Type type type

I don't even know what the fuck I wrote
I just typed

Most likely seven or 8 year old versions I wrote here

I remember writing something about waves on the lake
How the characteristics of the water changes with the seasons

Fall was upon us
And my mother read it
And marveled at what I wrote
How I wrote it
How I came to write it the way that I did

It was a moment for both of us
And one that wasn't really gushed about

It was a moment of realization
One of independent being
And recognition of it
Recognition that I saw and thought on my own
And that I was capable of presenting it in the way I saw it

With feeling

Not so much as expression of my feeling
But rather one that evoked a feeling from her

It had to have been an interesting experience for her

I mean... as children of our parants we are always evocative by what we say and do and just by being.

But to have that child produce a feeling in you unrelated to them or you, to pull you in and forget yourself and your child as your child, as a child... it's gotta be fucking weird.

For me it was fucking awesome
Because I did it

I figured how to get the fucking shit out of my head that's been causing my feelings to create more shit in my head to create more feelings to create more shit in my head and-fuck-my-life-if-it-made-a-lick-of-difference-regarding-my-emotionally-cognitive-wellbeing... because it didn't. Nor did it really cause me to pursue any actual interest for writing or literature. because that shit is for women and squares. or as I like to call them, "individuals with promise".
 
And now for something different

Access denied
 
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Meadow had a lover in Midnight

The day had her wet by then

Having to wait through it
While being walked on.

And though she gave all she could
And was appreciated as she did so
All she was

Was tread upon

She hated it
She hated how she always offered her nature
And how when she did
It was always taken
With little given back in return

But yet
She also loved it

She loved the intensity
Of the mid-day sun
How the heat of it fed her
And broke her forced fasting
From when it last passed over her
Always on its way
To somewhere else
Where it never thought of her

Not how she thought she was anyway


Each passing day
Provided Meadow with new flowers
One's that bloomed with such dazzling radiance
She looked so elegant
She would forget those that were dying
Deep within her
Trampled underfoot
As each day passed

But each new day provided the promise that Meadow needed to feel
As the mid-day sun continued to follow the same path it always would

And she would feel it
She would feel it deep
Feeding the thickets the day always left behind
Pulling from her soil the fertility that was given to Meadow
By her very own mother
---------------------------and that of her
--------------------------------------------and that of her



So with this
Meadow finds herself
In the company of a quiet midnight
That she knows will always arrive
And will always envelope her
And will always allow her to fall
Comfortably into its darkness
To be held still

Midnight is poor
It has no promise to offer
No promise to break

And Meadow loved this
Meadow loved midnight

But she also hated it

She hated how it was everything she wanted
But had nothing it could give

She hated how even if it could
It wouldn't be comfortable
Midnight was a place to escape to

Not thrive


Midnight
Was everything
About everything
That needed to be kept secret

Including that within
Of which it was

Of which
She hated
Because that was what Meadow wanted most

To be pulled asunder
Unable to see anything
And feel everything impregnate her
While sustaining it all
By the warmth of her body
And the milk from her breast.





Meadow awakens
Between an earth that is
And a sky that isn't

A tree struggles by root and by branch
To keep the two together


The sun comes up.

The dew turns to vapor.
 
Uhh, yeah, I definitely feel left out. : x

With the risk of appearing creepy and assumptive like all the rest I am sure you are all too familiar with, I shall send it to you privately on your birthday.

Now I make no promises that it will work out as intended, you will get a PM nevertheless.
 
Thank you for sharing your writing. Reading this was a beautiful way to begin my day.
 
The end of childhood

It was the stupidest thing

Although he wasn't her father
He found himself wanting to be

Not in the traditional sense
But in a protective sexual sense

What made it so stupid was the knowledge that he had nothing new to bring to the table. Although younger than he, she was still a woman.

But then he thought...
He did have something for her
Something he didn't know

But she did.


If he didn't
Why did she keep coming around?
Why was she so... intimately open with him?
Why was he her go-to when she found herself feeling alone?

Why wouldn't she just... go away.



A cup of coffee to the lips.
The leaded point of a mechanical pencil to paper.
A faint line across a brilliantly white blank page.

Because she knew he didn't want her to.
 
It was the stupidest thing

Although he wasn't her father
He found himself wanting to be

Not in the traditional sense
But in a protective sexual sense

What made it so stupid was the knowledge that he had nothing new to bring to the table. Although younger than he, she was still a woman.

But then he thought...
He did have something for her
Something he didn't know

But she did.


If he didn't
Why did she keep coming around?
Why was she so... intimately open with him?
Why was he her go-to when she found herself feeling alone?

Why wouldn't she just... go away.



A cup of coffee to the lips.
The leaded point of a mechanical pencil to paper.
A faint line across a brilliantly white blank page.

Because she knew he didn't want her to.


This is beautifully written... so very expressive...

Also, I do hope you start your new thread. I remember asking about the +B in your name.... and thought I should finally post my appreciation before this thread ends.
 
This is beautifully written... so very expressive...

Also, I do hope you start your new thread. I remember asking about the +B in your name.... and thought I should finally post my appreciation before this thread ends.

Thank you.

I remember you and remember feeling you to be an honest individual. I like that you started a thread of your own. Your images as well as the words behind them are just how I felt you to be.
 
With the risk of appearing creepy and assumptive like all the rest I am sure you are all too familiar with, I shall send it to you privately on your birthday.

Now I make no promises that it will work out as intended, you will get a PM nevertheless.

Mmmm now that's a private message I can reply to any time of the day. Thanks handsome.
 
Regression Unknown

It was the stupidest thing

Although she had become the woman she wanted to be and was in a relationship with a man proven capable of many things many times over, she continued to struggle with a restlessness she could not pin down

Although; actually, she could.

She wished she couldn't
And was hoping the metal handcuffs she asked her boyfriend to use on her would precipitate the kind of fuck she needed to forget what it was she kept running away from.

But she knew that it wouldn't.


Because like a child, she had to ask.
She had to remind him
What she needed

And what he wanted her for in the first place


He came
She came


Her fear remained.


He was on the phone as she stepped out of the shower
She watched him with a slight crestfallen disdain

Eventhough the situation very well could have been reversed

Nevertheless, the restless fear returned. He was going to leave again. Truth be told, he was already gone and it wouldn't be long before his body followed.

Her body got caught up in a panic that her brain needed to remedy.
And there she stood
With a dire need to suck her asshole off his cock

It would make her more important wouldn't it?



She dropped her towel and knelt before him feeling as though she was unzipping his fly with great skill and deft patience

In reality she was over eager and shaking
It was more of a struggle than she expected

Because he was fighting her off

Confused she looked up
And saw him looking down at her with his hand over the bottom of his phone. Though he could have spoke, he mouthed the words "stop it."

Stop it.

It wasn't the words that hurt
It was the look in his face

As if to say

Stop it.

Just stop it. This is more important than you.
Other people are more important than you.

And again... alone.

Alone
And fighting off yet another reality she kept dodging.

The sex wasn't real

Well it was
But it was hollow
Hollow pageantry where orgasms were the goal and not the result of a shared experience.


Unable to sleep she reached for the phone she shut off upon her arrival.

Everything began to slip away as she went into work-mode and culled her messages. But one of them brought her back into herself.

Back into her giddy 13yr old self

"Hey..."

Was all the message said

It didn't matter

She just sat there in bed
Feeling a lot less alone


Just by seeing his name.
 
I find myself wishing that I could be one of your tattoos.

Not the tattoo itself
Not the image

But the ink.

I wish I could feel you feel me flow into you
And be with you
To continue being with you

Even when you forget
I would be there

A part of me

A color of thought

A flowing emotional memory
Of some seamless experience
Felt when you see two others feel each other

Exchanging what was once echanged between you and I

I want that

I want to be made beautiful because of you
I want you to feel beautiful because of me.

I kind of love this.. stuff like this is the exact reason why you need to continue to post.
 
It was the stupidest thing

Although she had become the woman she wanted to be and was in a relationship with a man proven capable of many things many times over, she continued to struggle with a restlessness she could not pin down

Although; actually, she could.

She wished she couldn't
And was hoping the metal handcuffs she asked her boyfriend to use on her would precipitate the kind of fuck she needed to forget what it was she kept running away from.

But she knew that it wouldn't.


Because like a child, she had to ask.
She had to remind him
What she needed

And what he wanted her for in the first place


He came
She came


Her fear remained.


He was on the phone as she stepped out of the shower
She watched him with a slight crestfallen disdain

Eventhough the situation very well could have been reversed

Nevertheless, the restless fear returned. He was going to leave again. Truth be told, he was already gone and it wouldn't be long before his body followed.

Her body got caught up in a panic that her brain needed to remedy.
And there she stood
With a dire need to suck her asshole off his cock

It would make her more important wouldn't it?



She dropped her towel and knelt before him feeling as though she was unzipping his fly with great skill and deft patience

In reality she was over eager and shaking
It was more of a struggle than she expected

Because he was fighting her off

Confused she looked up
And saw him looking down at her with his hand over the bottom of his phone. Though he could have spoke, he mouthed the words "stop it."

Stop it.

It wasn't the words that hurt
It was the look in his face

As if to say

Stop it.

Just stop it. This is more important than you.
Other people are more important than you.

And again... alone.

Alone
And fighting off yet another reality she kept dodging.

The sex wasn't real

Well it was
But it was hollow
Hollow pageantry where orgasms were the goal and not the result of a shared experience.


Unable to sleep she reached for the phone she shut off upon her arrival.

Everything began to slip away as she went into work-mode and culled her messages. But one of them brought her back into herself.

Back into her giddy 13yr old self

"Hey..."

Was all the message said

It didn't matter

She just sat there in bed
Feeling a lot less alone


Just by seeing his name.



This. This is awesome. Well worth my short little return here.

You sir, certainly have not missed a step. good to see someone I know still around.:kiss: Hope you've been well
 
It was the stupidest thing

Although she had become the woman she wanted to be and was in a relationship with a man proven capable of many things many times over, she continued to struggle with a restlessness she could not pin down

Although; actually, she could.

She wished she couldn't
And was hoping the metal handcuffs she asked her boyfriend to use on her would precipitate the kind of fuck she needed to forget what it was she kept running away from.

But she knew that it wouldn't.


Because like a child, she had to ask.
She had to remind him
What she needed

And what he wanted her for in the first place


He came
She came


Her fear remained.


He was on the phone as she stepped out of the shower
She watched him with a slight crestfallen disdain

Eventhough the situation very well could have been reversed

Nevertheless, the restless fear returned. He was going to leave again. Truth be told, he was already gone and it wouldn't be long before his body followed.

Her body got caught up in a panic that her brain needed to remedy.
And there she stood
With a dire need to suck her asshole off his cock

It would make her more important wouldn't it?



She dropped her towel and knelt before him feeling as though she was unzipping his fly with great skill and deft patience

In reality she was over eager and shaking
It was more of a struggle than she expected

Because he was fighting her off

Confused she looked up
And saw him looking down at her with his hand over the bottom of his phone. Though he could have spoke, he mouthed the words "stop it."

Stop it.

It wasn't the words that hurt
It was the look in his face

As if to say

Stop it.

Just stop it. This is more important than you.
Other people are more important than you.

And again... alone.

Alone
And fighting off yet another reality she kept dodging.

The sex wasn't real

Well it was
But it was hollow
Hollow pageantry where orgasms were the goal and not the result of a shared experience.


Unable to sleep she reached for the phone she shut off upon her arrival.

Everything began to slip away as she went into work-mode and culled her messages. But one of them brought her back into herself.

Back into her giddy 13yr old self

"Hey..."

Was all the message said

It didn't matter

She just sat there in bed
Feeling a lot less alone


Just by seeing his name.


... this actually broke my heart a bit, maybe because I've dealt with feelings similar to this in the past, maybe because it's saddening to think that others do on a daily.
 
What The Fuck Difference Would It Make?

It was the stupidest thing

He knew she was with her boyfriend and that they hadn't seen each other for some time.

He also knew that she loved him
And from what he's been able to gather, he loved her as well.

At least to the extent that he was able to

Or wanted to.

He sat there quietly
Phone in hand.

He studied how it felt
The ridges of his thumbprint slid across the smooth glass

He knew they were fucking
And would be doing so hours on end
Multiple times a night
For however long they would be together
Before one of them had to jet to somewhere else.

Having only travelled to Ontario once as a kid to go fishing with a friends family was the only other place of some distance that he's ever traveled. And that was by automobile.

It was such a foreign reality to him
Going here
Going there
Having a relationship somewhere between.

But in a way
It made sense

There is something to be said about the feast-and-famine aspect of it all.
The emotional turmoil of separating matched by the anticipation of being together again.

Say nothing of how easy it would be to play out whatever hotel hook-up one might have

Or relive the shadiness of how they got together in the first place.

The thought actually pissed him off and solicited the fantasy of going back in time Like that one Bruce Willis movie...
what was the name of it?...
fuck.

Doesn't matter.


What mattered
Was her
Andhe got to thinking that had he known of this beforehand he would have intercepted her by her goddamn throat, looked her in the eye and told her to stop it.

Stop fucking turning down roads that you fucking know... that you fucking KNOW are dead ends.



Which is why she didn't tell him.

She was an adult
Part of being an adult is making adult mistakes
And sabotaging yourself
Over
And over
And over
Up until it's too late to save the part of yourself
You wished you still had

From dying.



But admittedly?
He wanted her for himself
In spite of knowing that he was just as much of a dead end.


He sat there
Stupidly looking at the screen of his phone

Not knowing what to type

But he wanted to type something.
It was the only way he was ever going to be able to touch her.


*click...*

And he remembered...

Looper.


Looper was the name of the Bruce Willis movie.






[Text Message Sent]
 
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Before I Leave For Work

It was the stupidest thing

...how he made her feel.

Even when his words hurt her
They hurt her in a meaningful way she felt she should understand

But couldn't


Which made her hurt all the more.

He was that something her chest had an idea of
And that's why she couldn't bring herself to let him go

Even though she knew he wanted her to
Even though she knew he was just another dead end

He pulled her panic together
He listened
He was there
Always there
Somewhere

Like an unseen spider
Catching things

Keeping them from entering
Into the house of chaos

With which her mind
Forced her heart
To live in.


She saw that his text sat in her phone for the last three hours

Alone

Although he was an adult
And the text was just that... a text
Something about seeing the duration of which it went unseen
Made her heart sink

It was as though it were a lost child
Sitting against the wall of Grand Central Station
Trying to make sense of all the other texts coming and going
Across the platform of her phone
Trying to make sense of why they were all there
Trying to stay out of the way

Not wanting to be there
Wishing that it wasn't sent

Unable to flee


She hated that about him
She hated how he could weave tragedy into the innocuous
And do so in such a way
That it cut deeply

But deeply in a way that made her want him to fuck her

Alone

Infront of everyone
Violently gross
And to the point of horrific.
 
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There's one sad truth in life I've found
While journeying east and west -
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love us best.
~Ella Wheeler Wilcox
 
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