(no subject)
I think i've finally written my first story in my book-to-be-written of short stories.
:]
Maybe I'll share it.
EDIT: now two stories. I like my second one so much. But it's kind of long. I'll try typing it though.
HERE'S THE SECOND STORY I WROTE. THE FIRST STILL NEEDS SOME MAJOR EDITING.
Okay, so I know it's kind of long. But it goes quickly.
Don't ask me how I think up this shit... i've just had writer's block for SO LONG that i am happy with anything that flows from me.
"Lets take a walk together, just because it's sunny outside. And I'm up early."
Never let yourself fall in love- actually I take that back. WHat a terrible thing to do- live without ever having loved. Thats a quote from some where, I can't quite remember where. Love is like learning to ride a bike, like a first day of school, like a first kiss- only bigger. So much bigger. And so much more life-altering. But in a sort of right-of-passage way. Like there's this special club of Lover's, Loved Ones, and then there must come the Heartbroken.
Anyway, it was a nice day. And Film had woken up early. His father had named him- a movie producer. His mother, but of course, the movie star. His life unfolded much like any fairytale may. Young, beautiful boy surrounded by beauty, passion- sex, drugs.
And who was I but to fall into his lap. A girl who only dreamed of stardom. A girl named Light for now apparent reason other than her parents were too trippy at the moment of my unexpected birth.
But Film was the bony boy. Sitting in a thrown-like chair, in one of the more quiet rooms. A cloud of smoke and a box of cigarettes. A kitten lay in his lap of scruffy worn jeans. While an undershirt traced the muscles of his chest. Something I would only later do with my fingertips.
His head shaved to tickling bristles, and mine cut short like a pixie. Together we looked like two boys. But he'd just say, "It's okay, I don't mind being gay." and nudge me in the ribs.
What sparkling eyes he had.
What slender fingers.
And now he asks me for a walk in the park. And all that comes to mind is I havn't felt the warmth of your body for all too long. But this I don't say. How awkaward it would be. For I am so full of emotions I fear if I open my mouth, I'll spill everything like a broken bag of beans.
I fall at the spot where I'm standing- land hard on the pavement below.
"No Filmy, not now."
"Don't be weak." he says
"I'm not weak, I'm wounded."
I'm not weak, I'm wounded... can't he see the spouts of blood and heartache shooting through every dying cell of my body?
"It's not real... we're not real." I shake my head so hard.
"We are all too real, baby," he says "we represent so much now."
My eyes are so wide all of a sudden I fear they may melt and seep out. How sad it would be to be blind to the beauty that stands before me.
"We represent death.
We represent all things grotesque.
We represent disease... tell me you're not proud."
I shook and quivered through every word. I knew emotionally I could hardly hold any longer. And physically I dwindled before my own eyes.
"My little Light Bug," he kneels by me now, "we represent beauty in all those things. We show our strenght through assured death."
I'm ready to slap him. How can he be so positive in such a situation?
AIDS is what we live with. Is what he carried so ignorantly. It's the biggest monster he's shared with me. We cannot win this even with the strongest bond love brings.
"We can not beat it this time, can we Film? There's no running away this time. There's no winning. We're in a game destined to lose.
Don't give me beauty for we are a walking disease.
Don't give me strength for we have been thrust into life's plays of puppetry. We are held by such tender strings. Thinking we could live.on.the.edge. Thinking we wouldn't succumb to life's tedious days. To life's lack of appreciation. But life has only found a new way to catagorize us- throwing us into a land of plague, despair, and slow torture. There is no escaping to a land of milk and honey this time. No drug can give us the release we need. You've created this life on the sidelines for us- of glitter.silk & bliss. How dare you try to forget the real world. For she's found us and given us this. And don't try to tell me different baby. How could we not have seen death knocking on our door? How not?!"
Tears streamed as I shook and felt each vertabrae in my back rub tenderly against my skin.
"Light, I will not argue. You've showed me our situation through a lens I had not looked through. One I hadn't seen," he says slowly, "I am so sorry. Keeping you oblivious to the world and all it's filth was a mistake. And now? Now all I can do is sit and apologize to you. Apologize that my cape of protection has failed us both."
I gave him his walk in the park. Because it was a sunny day, and we deserved it.
I felt like black clouds gliding through a world of light and richness. But maybe he's right. Perhaps he's right to see it as us representing disease, but representing the beauty we are able to withold through it. Dieing together would be in absolute love.
Him Romeo and I Juliet. Both withering slowly stead of quickly through poison and dagger. At least this way we die knowing we are still young and so dangerously in love merely enveloped in death. Merely, only merely.
phew... so thats it guys.
:]
Maybe I'll share it.
EDIT: now two stories. I like my second one so much. But it's kind of long. I'll try typing it though.
HERE'S THE SECOND STORY I WROTE. THE FIRST STILL NEEDS SOME MAJOR EDITING.
Okay, so I know it's kind of long. But it goes quickly.
Don't ask me how I think up this shit... i've just had writer's block for SO LONG that i am happy with anything that flows from me.
"Lets take a walk together, just because it's sunny outside. And I'm up early."
Never let yourself fall in love- actually I take that back. WHat a terrible thing to do- live without ever having loved. Thats a quote from some where, I can't quite remember where. Love is like learning to ride a bike, like a first day of school, like a first kiss- only bigger. So much bigger. And so much more life-altering. But in a sort of right-of-passage way. Like there's this special club of Lover's, Loved Ones, and then there must come the Heartbroken.
Anyway, it was a nice day. And Film had woken up early. His father had named him- a movie producer. His mother, but of course, the movie star. His life unfolded much like any fairytale may. Young, beautiful boy surrounded by beauty, passion- sex, drugs.
And who was I but to fall into his lap. A girl who only dreamed of stardom. A girl named Light for now apparent reason other than her parents were too trippy at the moment of my unexpected birth.
But Film was the bony boy. Sitting in a thrown-like chair, in one of the more quiet rooms. A cloud of smoke and a box of cigarettes. A kitten lay in his lap of scruffy worn jeans. While an undershirt traced the muscles of his chest. Something I would only later do with my fingertips.
His head shaved to tickling bristles, and mine cut short like a pixie. Together we looked like two boys. But he'd just say, "It's okay, I don't mind being gay." and nudge me in the ribs.
What sparkling eyes he had.
What slender fingers.
And now he asks me for a walk in the park. And all that comes to mind is I havn't felt the warmth of your body for all too long. But this I don't say. How awkaward it would be. For I am so full of emotions I fear if I open my mouth, I'll spill everything like a broken bag of beans.
I fall at the spot where I'm standing- land hard on the pavement below.
"No Filmy, not now."
"Don't be weak." he says
"I'm not weak, I'm wounded."
I'm not weak, I'm wounded... can't he see the spouts of blood and heartache shooting through every dying cell of my body?
"It's not real... we're not real." I shake my head so hard.
"We are all too real, baby," he says "we represent so much now."
My eyes are so wide all of a sudden I fear they may melt and seep out. How sad it would be to be blind to the beauty that stands before me.
"We represent death.
We represent all things grotesque.
We represent disease... tell me you're not proud."
I shook and quivered through every word. I knew emotionally I could hardly hold any longer. And physically I dwindled before my own eyes.
"My little Light Bug," he kneels by me now, "we represent beauty in all those things. We show our strenght through assured death."
I'm ready to slap him. How can he be so positive in such a situation?
AIDS is what we live with. Is what he carried so ignorantly. It's the biggest monster he's shared with me. We cannot win this even with the strongest bond love brings.
"We can not beat it this time, can we Film? There's no running away this time. There's no winning. We're in a game destined to lose.
Don't give me beauty for we are a walking disease.
Don't give me strength for we have been thrust into life's plays of puppetry. We are held by such tender strings. Thinking we could live.on.the.edge. Thinking we wouldn't succumb to life's tedious days. To life's lack of appreciation. But life has only found a new way to catagorize us- throwing us into a land of plague, despair, and slow torture. There is no escaping to a land of milk and honey this time. No drug can give us the release we need. You've created this life on the sidelines for us- of glitter.silk & bliss. How dare you try to forget the real world. For she's found us and given us this. And don't try to tell me different baby. How could we not have seen death knocking on our door? How not?!"
Tears streamed as I shook and felt each vertabrae in my back rub tenderly against my skin.
"Light, I will not argue. You've showed me our situation through a lens I had not looked through. One I hadn't seen," he says slowly, "I am so sorry. Keeping you oblivious to the world and all it's filth was a mistake. And now? Now all I can do is sit and apologize to you. Apologize that my cape of protection has failed us both."
I gave him his walk in the park. Because it was a sunny day, and we deserved it.
I felt like black clouds gliding through a world of light and richness. But maybe he's right. Perhaps he's right to see it as us representing disease, but representing the beauty we are able to withold through it. Dieing together would be in absolute love.
Him Romeo and I Juliet. Both withering slowly stead of quickly through poison and dagger. At least this way we die knowing we are still young and so dangerously in love merely enveloped in death. Merely, only merely.
phew... so thats it guys.