Boy Bewildered

Today was nice... On the bus to Muswell Hill embarked a pram, with a beautiful, smiling baby in it. It grinned at me, at the woman opposite, at everyone...

And it was such a nice mood. I mean... The woman opposite rattled keys, the man sat down next to her. He must have been about 67, with half his teeth missing. Making clucking sounds. And then a special-needs greek-cypriot, waggling her pram as she giggled. I half expected a musical:

*click**suck*wigglewiggle*

And there was a baby, yeah! And she smiled and she giggled like there was nothing wrong!
And I looked in her eyes, and the good was reflected, and it was good.

*chorus*

And then... She played with my hand, marvellin at the thumb, probing like a physio.

And it was all beautiful, multi-racial fun.

And then on came another mother. 'make way for my pram please'

And her daughter was skinny, dolled-up and _not_ interested in anything. The first baby tried to touch it...

The mother... Cuts all down her forearms. 300 pounds. Violent, ill-trained to deal. Disgusting, frankly. The state's failed her; she's failed her child. Her child will fail.

Man... My mood is perfectly proportional to how much sleep I've had. I haven't had much sleep. So like...

I'm at a loose end... A completely raggedy frayed, loose end that needs to be burnt back into the plastic rope. Ohhh... I know I don't have... Or shouldn't even. Shouldn't make other people miserable to suit my mood. Should get more sleep. Should rejoice in what I have.
But like I feel so alone at the moment. Anyone I want... Need. Doesn't need me at all.

I don't... I want... I know people don't see the world like I do. Not all of them. But... It's so hard to appreciate that. I'd love some girl to look at me crazily, and ask my number. I wanna meet someone sitting on a gravestone, who has a flower in their hair.

And I'd fall madly into a stupor of love with them, but people... Don't. She doesn't want a 'big relationship'? She says she's 'like the worst relationship person ever'. But... C'mon. What she means is she doesn't want ME (well duh).
But I can sorta take that ish I guess... I can work on it maybe, who knows (not optimistic). But like. If she's given up on RELATIONSHIPS??? I wanna reach out some healing hands and show her how nice people can be...

But hopefully she just means she doesn't want me, and that someday she'll find the man she wants and have her separate house and call her son Jack Wolf Cobain and have me round for dinner once in a while...

Astronaut or rock star?
Astronaut or revolutionary mathemascientist?

The feeling of her in my arms; almost ethereally light. The knowledge she's on that other level. How perfect the chance that we ever met up... And how great that there's someone I can trust to be good-outlookable and undumb.

I'm sure that this will probably go nowhere, but nowhere's fine as long as there's someone you like to share the journey with.

Today... Mmm...

So I met her for coffee... It was great.
She reminds me of Emily... But yeah anyway.

She said I'd make a great father. She thanked me for remembering Captain Planet. She said that before she was 13 she read War and Peace, because some actress had. She said she writes loads in left-hand, to become more ambidextrous. She was very appreciative of compliments. She knew how to hold hands. She seemed worldlily knowledged. She's clever, into chemistry and science and great things. We somehow share a similar worldview. And she wants to lie under the stars and actually experience wonder, not sadness. I want to emember it all...

It was lovely. And on the bus she lay in my arms, which may have transgressed the 'friendship boundaries' we set out (she). But I'm happy with her. She's lovely...

I got a riding crop! Why there was one in my father's garage is not the question, more... Yay!

One regret I will take from Emma is not playing around more... I should've bought outfits, masks for her with my favourite footballers on them... Should've bought her more gifts too... Just to let her know that I did care. Next time I see her though, I'll be sure to bring the implement of equine control that at the moment is in my teeth...

*grins*

(Google Briard). This is pretty much the dog of my dreams. Yes maintenance; that's why it's for my DREAMS... And this is there, because I know I've been repetitive and self-indulgent. And this is a nice picture, so enjoy!

I dreamt of... Of an endless run with a mobile phone, debating our accents, with Wayne Rooney. He's not so Scouse in my dreams. Apparently I speak like a newsreader.
And there was a car journey, with me in the driving seat and E in the passenger seat, snuggled in a pure white duvet. Leaning on me, with my hand clutching the gearstick under her body (YES it WAS a gearstick! I can't help the filthiness of automotive instruments!). We kept travelling, depite my ineptitude with the clutch.
And then we went to the back, and she slept with her hand cupped around my balls... And I held her and she looked so... So sweet. Petrol-black hair decorating the duvet.

I came to the conclusion that I only dream of people I can't have. And I can't have her be mine... Which is ok long-term, but as I said. I attach myself easy and don't want to let go.

So my plan of action? Hm. I acknowledge now with my heart as well as my mind that sex isn't necessary for me to exist. It isn't. It should be loving. I'll wait...
If I can.

So, I want her to be loved too. I'll ask her to promise to wait for someone she cares about, and then I'll be ok.

Today started so well... I woke up, went to school as per usual. Was muchly happy throughout; as should I be after 12 hours of sleep.
And then... And then at school all was going ok as well... Arrived early, put the books in my locker. Walked around, talked to Miss in the information room. And then she walked in... An absolute vision of wanting... Her copper-angry hair and her faded jeans. I knew I had to... to... to talk to her.
And I thought I had some of the courage too.

I left, talked to her as she left the room. Does she know my name? Probably not... But hey. And then that boy walks along, joins in my wooing conversation. I can deal.

I follow her into the library, pick out the complete works of Emily Dickinson. Sit at the table. She looks genuinely happy to see me, as I fluster through my lines.

*whisper*'Uh, do you wanna like, get some coffee some time?'*whisper*

'What?'

'(repeats)'

*smile*

So I waited for about seven minutes, before walking out with a huge, crescent grin. Mission achieved.


...

And tonight... Saw E again. I can't... talk so well about it right now.

She blew someone when she was ten years old. Ten years old. Ten. I can't explain how sick this makes me feel. She sent a chain email describing herself as single and looking; she said that 'of course' she had a crush, she told me about the latest boy she blew... Just... I can't feel like I own her anymore.

And in the car I revelatiised. I don't need sex... I can be a 17 year-old virgin. It's cool to do it in love and not out of a sense of need/want. I really felt that, for a minute. But am I strong enough? *eyes narrow* I just can't tell.

Because E, she scares me. I'm scared that, y'know, she'll go and fuck someone just because. Like she blew that guy,for no rason.

I think I'm over it from my own point of view. But I really, really do love her and want her to have someone who deserves her. And of course I deserve her...

But I deserve to have my own space and I can't really take how I feel about her at the moment. I can't care this much when she's not mine.

Because I do really, really care, as I said (sorry, it's late. Tired writing). I want her to be loved and I want... I want not to feel like this about her. I want to feel detached, able to make her feel better. I want to feel like she's a friend, not someone who is mine.

Shit I think I have some attachment disorder/jealous rage problem.

I need to stop acting so madly spolt. She isn't mine. And won't be...

Must be off, emotional still...

Hm yesterday... Woke up and realised that some of it at least was ridiculous. But oh well...

I dreamt that... People took on the name of songs. Ben was 'Come on Home'...
And then some dumb secret agent guy was hlding a seminar. Wow... Thanks. In the toilet it shouted at me, but I located both bugs anyway. Then I thought that they cost money, so I let them continue to hurl abuse and to spray their scent on me, because it was Oh so funny...

Today was depressing... E again.

I figured out what's bothered me. I mean, yeah, I'll go and I'll apologise for being so nihilistic in our relationship. She won't recognise that that was the problem, but it was. I mean, I couldn't have imagined how hard it was to throw another chance at her away... When she saw me so seldom.

And then... S. The guy she loved, (thought she loved, whatever). I don't know any of her friends, he sleeps with them in her bedroom. He has an eight-inch cock.

I don't know why that should bother me so much. Should it? Of course not. It's just the jealousy I get from the thought that he has no insecurities about his dick (or so E says). I mean... How childish is that? How lame that I can't reconcile myself with my body.

And like, she tells me stories: 'oh yeah that used to happen... I don't think he KNEW he made me throw up though...' Shit man. Half of me hates myself for being with her.

Why does she still make me feel so shit so often? Because... Because we were so long together and yet she never let me into her life at all. Because she rebounded bad off of S, and I was the first guy to care about her after?
No, it's 'cos she doesn't believe me. She's spent how long with me, with absolutely no feeling? Or maybe what she feels she supresses.
I think she just thinks I'm omni-guy. Which I don't get. Can someone have that little faith in men?
I try so hard to be sweet and considerate and it's like she expects the opposite.
Or I did try so hard... Maybe I lapsed. Actually I know I did.

Because it felt like she was teasing me. I know she wasn't, but... Just ELEMENTARY PSYCH MAN. Don't DO that SHIT. I really would rather NOT feel like a fucking molester when I see you.

And now we're apart, and nothing's changed. And that's even worse. I still get that sick feeling when she doesn't call. I feel sick when she drops it into the conversation semi-guiltily that she's busy. And she knows.... She must... How much that date meant to me...

I know I'm spoilt. But this is almost the first time I'm almost not blaming it on me.

So. I don't know what to do. Can I see her? I wish she'd tell me to just... I dunno... Whatever...

I know she feels some stuff... So she should tell me.

Or else I can't see her/talk to her/believe her/love her.

Emotionally yours. So take it or leave it.

So, how do you see the world?

Yesterday I saw one of my friends, looking ridiculously beautiful. I couldn't tell her though... Because I would've said something like: 'Hey, you look crazily beautiful. All you need is a baby on your hip to accesorise'.
When I really meant that, yes, she did look like a tired mother. But an absolutely beautiful one. Like, hair tied back, skin slightly pale.

How can I say that to her without it sounding insulting?

Oh well... I'll keep that image in my head. It's an image of strength.

Dreams? Dreams dreams...

I dreamt that... That... That we had all gone to a theme park. And that E had brought Alex Dreamboat. And I asked them to lie with me, so they... Tried to. But AD was so... Curley-haired and large...

And then we got up, and moved on. AD asked me out. I couldn't say no. E was gonna fucking hear about this one...

So we moved through the hangar-like structure, out to a field where there was a live band. Looked like the set for the Bee's new video.

And they tried to play the house down, but basically, they sucked. They played a half of Jimi Hendrix song. All the audience stopped singing along at the part where they were unsure of the words... Typical. I think they tried to play 'salty dog', but they didn't. I swore at them.

Then we went to the map (of the park), I phoned E again. I only have 5 quid on my fucking phone? Fuck. She doesn't look too pleased to see me.

I fuck up my lines to the real Alex, great. Now she thinks she's fat...

Cut to unrelated prison scene? There was some fantastically witty dialogue (NOT ably repeated here). One cell, two beings on one side, two on the other. I think the two on the right were symbiotic? *shrug*

The two on the left: 'he's been incommunicado for like two weeks. Must be that new girl.'
On right: *Strokes groinal area containing amorphous genitalia*
'Yeah man, he used to be a regular friendly guy. Twice a day, but hey.'

Hmmm... Whatever, subconscious. Thanks!

MMmm... What a delicious dream,
It started on the subject of GCSEs. I had the class's test papers in my hand, walking down the corridor. For chemistry I had gotten 80, once it had been moderated. I was happy.

In the toilet I decided to piss on the papers... Someone walked in too, N. Ah well, I was just.. uh... putting water on them. There were flour stains. Of course.

Somewhere along the corridor was, for some reason, my house. So I went in, into my brother's room.

M was there! I hugged her, and we went into the top bunk. 'Wanna wrestle?' Sure, she said.

Then somehow she was naked and easy to beat, and I was on top and then... Asked: 'd'ya wanna?'

And ran off to my room. Told my brother not to come into his room, as I grabbed the condoms from my bookshelf. The pack felt squishy (junior psychoanalysts please ignore). My brother gave me an odd smile.

I ran back in. 'So d'ya wanna?'
'no', she said. 'my sexual history is kinda... Well I haven't done it in a long time'
'oh'
'Well. My first time was at seven'
I thought she meant that was the first and the last time.
'Then with {name} and {name} and {name} and {name}.
'I've never.'
*cute smile*

Then some clothes became magically attached, as she leant into me and was between my legs... And the arse... What an object. But mainly she was with me; I loved her.

Car j'ai un test de francais aujourd'hui (écrire), je voudrais améliorer mon francais.
Mais, ca c'est impratique a cause du (shitty keyboard).

But anyway. Almost done with GCSEs, at last. Or well the tests at least... I stlil must wait until well into August to get my precious results.

My dog is worrying me. It's far too hot for her in the house and I have to go leave her again. She's crying whenever I get back and being utterly frantic... Poor doggy :(. I feel so bad leaving her, but at the moment she's just lying down and breathing deeply, almost in meditation. Must be about a 4 centimetre increase with each breath.

Anyway, time for french.
Alors, Adieu!

What a sweltering few days...
It is almost gorgeous.

I cycled a few extra miles today, with the gloves I invariably wear. I saw some cute kids with their mothers. Their smiles are sweet, like they can take joy all around.

Not that I can't... Today on the way to school, I turned right as per usual. Except this wasn't usual; the cars were laughing and pointing. And as I went I say it: a goose, strutting in the middle of the road, as if to be an explorer. I smiled at it, tipped my helmet to it.

Fuck
This isn't real

Shit. The only platitude you could offer me is that they're so bad, no self-respecting person could take it into account. I mean. How can this be legal? I'm almost shaking in disgust, I can't take it.

Fuck the internet, y'know. How can it be so vile and used for such terrible shit like this. So? Freedom of speech whatever. This isn't legal. It isn't even funny, or good.

Shit man.

So now I'm in a hot sweat (thanks, summer) and I don't want to be here.
I want to be in liberalius. Under the sea.
:)

As asymptotic line of loathing and vitriol spreads through my bones. Never little enough to stop, never good enough to end it.
Not that it matters. I'm not going anywhere except through the motions, by which i'll arrive at... Who knows? Not I.

But enough.

French was this morning. I couldn't get pornographic thoughts away from the comic strip we had to caption, but hey, y'know... Not exactly a pity seeing as I had half an hour to waste.

I realise my posting is really not too central on theme and tangentially veers from ok to despicable angst -- I'll get better, I promise.

...

What am I meant to do when I'm hopelessly tangled in a friendship of love? Since breaking up I'm back onto her like we should've been all along.
We're like little kids with tin-can phones, leaning out of our bed-room windows. Oh no, busted! People walk in as I'm on the phone all night, pouring my heart into digitally encrypted emissions. Told off for not sleeping before exams.
But E? How can I love her so much? When she whispers 'you won't forget me will you? There's much better people to remember'. Yeah so what? I have a lead attached to her... She can pull me wherever she wants.

I love to give myself over to someone. If she told me she'd catch me, I'd jump, crashing through the ceiling like a messerschmidt. Falling into her arms like a million cliches, all reversed as she carried me over the threshold of this life, as she put a knife in my back, and whispered softly, oh so softly, into my ear:

'I love you'

Thanks BBC. Doesn't it look so much better here? Shame about real life.

*Looks around*

Wow. Venus in transit. So momentous. One black, little dot.

And the world... What am I meant to do? I wan't somebody to be here with me all the time. No, I need it. Need it more desparately than I should.

Lymphet-style, I could latch onto someone and never leave them without the aid of a crowbar.

And is my hotmail disabled? No one can be fucked to write me on it, but I do care.

It's not fair. Since when was I so sickeningly sensitive to everything?

I think I'm'a go and cry.

Sorry... I wish I had kept up the writing recently.
So much has happened. Since Wednesday.

In brief, cogent prose?

Finished relationship, on a good, clear, resonant note. It had been too long to last without the substance of false emotion, or the expression of real.

It was beautiful... We slept together, in the same bed, talking all night. The feeling of waking up with something so human and warm next to me... Meatily delicious.

We avoided sex, as we had for all of our time. I'll be glad some time, when I meet someone who I love.

We saw The Killers.

I wrote.

I revised.

Maybe I'll post some of it. But don't expect anything other than teenage angst shit.

I'm tired and ok. Ok really. Life still. is. there.

But she's woken up my emotions. And it isn't... Fun...

I feel so sick to read about the latest news... I feel so sick to think about what my friends have been through compared to me. I can't bear to consider how miserable human life is. It makes me ashamed to be male. And the worst thing is, it is male male male male who fucks everything up.

Gang rape? Fights? Enforced prostitution? Just fuck it. Having a dick shouldn't do all this. And it's terrible to know that I am numbered. It can't be long before I heed my dick or the testosterone kicking through me and damage. I don't care who. I don't want to exist like this. I don't want to know about all the horror sometimes. I want someone big and strong to hold me and tell me... Fran. You're not like them.

Except I am. Thanks circumstance. Really.

I am glad I face obliteration at death