Boy Bewildered

Wow. I just noticed someone had left a comment on my site... And I'm beyond thrilled. It's like something's crawled into my heart, depositing a heap of volcano powder and let it erupt.

It's awesome. I know some people hit the site, accidentally, randomly, and... I hope some of them like it. And even if they don't, I hope it's mildly interesting.

To receive a comment... Wow. It's like a major life event. This feels so much more important than losing my virginity. Well, it is more important.

So yeah! I had better try and make more dynamite-posts so I can hook whatever random people hit the site, and to try and make them leave a footprint!

So thank you C!
*hughug* everybody, (haha), I'm off to give blood!

My dog runs through the fields like a horse, tossing her mane. Her running is joyful, but I'm always tinged with fear. How will she react with the next dog? (or more likely: how will the next dog's owner react to her?)

My dog is gender ambiguous. She is a female.

Once she attacked another dog. An Ayrdale... Attacking meaning growling. She won't bite anything. She mouthed at it, ran at it, scared it. Dogs play.
And the owner, affronted, runs up and kicks her in the chest. Understandable? No.
It felt like this ugly, fat bald man had just kicked a child. I dreamt of torture for him. I wish people would just understand... This world is almost always waiting to spring a disappointment.

And sex? Yeah man... I'm a real man alright I'm having sex with my girlfriend yeah. What a cool guy that makes me huh?

Pf... I'm a kid trying to pretend to be grown up, and so is E. We do an ok job -- 'I love you. Let's have a mature conversation!'
But it's...
Pf...

Yeah so we had sex too, again. Three condoms, lubricant enough to fit the camel through the eye of the needle, and a few hours. It was better. It was even ok. I mean it was funny, and intimate, and kinda sweet. It wasn't 'fuckMEwow' but it was ok.

And, like, finally, I got closer to her. I mean. Sitting there, just looking at her pussy. Probing with my eyes. Hell, she doesn't know what it looks like. Tickled her.

And then on top of her again, I saw something I'm still thinking about. Her eyes were lovingly open, and her expression was... Amazing.

It makes me think she likes me; makes me think that she wants me; makes me think her sexuality isn't beyong reclaiming.

Cacophony of dreams. When I read that sentence out of my mind, I felt dizzy. Especially when I realised that those weren't the words on the page at all. Freaky...

The same fall-down-dizzyness I got the other day. E came over, late... Unsurprising. I grabbed her head, knelt on her shoulders, played the hunger.
She knelt down, I stood. I came hard, then squirmed as her tongue kept on going. Like an animal in a trap I escaped, heart pounding. Collapsed onto my bed with all the blood gone from my head. Felt dead. Ultimate...

Hey! Some guy I know reallly likes me, and I love it! He told me how last night he 'wasn't' having sex with some boy from drama class, oh no...
Wow. He's like 14 and he's already taking it casually. As in 'yeah he filled me up good...' Well I'm happy for him. And casual sex could really be a great thing, I guess...
And isn't it great to know someone likes you? As in likes you without expecting anything. Likes you for almost no reason.
*is happy*

I wish people were as open as he about who they liked...

The minutes crawl by, as tears form in my eyes. Why won't she answer her phone? Can I call her house? Why the fuck is she doing this to me. Turn up soon because I want to explode, but I won't. She won't say sorry, she'll drift in. No we can't watch the film now there's no time. No I don't want a hug from you. Ok yes I do.
But stop stop stop fucking me around and just show some commitment, wastrel...

Nancy climbed the staircase, peering over the bannisters with trepidation. It was an awfully long way down... Every step she took seemed to make her quiver more, and for a girl of her intelligence it was not hard to imagine herself falling right through a plank!

When she reached the top, she had forgotten what she had gonethere for. But as she had thought: it was an awfully long way down...

So she sat at the top, until a stranger came along.

...

The stranger was strange indeed. His stomach protruded beyond his green corduroy slacks, while the hairs on his back were a peculiar shade of yellow. Nancy thought him a scoundrel or ruffian, and hastened to look confident in herself (this naturally being the best way of avoiding a kerfuffle).

He sat down next to her.
"do you happen to know why I came up here?" he asked
"No," said she.

And that is how Nancy was in a pickle, and for why she was never seen again.

Lucinda... I love her clothes, I love her hair, I really like her overly-large beautiful cock-sucking lips.
I like how you can't see what's under her shirt of mystery. I like how she smiles at me. I like her hair-bands. I like her laugh, expecially when it's at something I've said. I like how she half-waves. I like how she holds hands with her friend. I adore her stance like... like... Like someone casting a spell.
I like how she reminds me of anime characters. I like her vanishing waist. I love how she's really genuinely interested. I love her little vocabulary slips. It's clear she's read these words without ever hearing them spoken.

I would really love for her to ask me out, and for me to see where that would lead.
Not now, but for the future.
I'd love to have me in her life.

Hey... I wish I wrote more. There are moments that seem too perfect to lose but to capture some of these only ends up in their desecration.

I mean... Where's the meaning in: 'looking out, the windows showed a wall of apathetic grey. I wish there was a plant scaling it; something to tell me it was real, and that the sky hadn't given up it's colour.'?

Useless. I feel so drained.

I lost my virginity. I turned seventeen. In that order.
Hours between them.

I took her to a house, the empty one, as I said. We lay on the floor and fucked. And... They said it would be disappointing, but how?...

I mean, just emptiness. Just... Indescribable emptiness.

The house was accommodating though. It let us be there, sighing its consent. Like my girlfriend. Content for things to inhabit its space, as it lays back and breathes.

hey... Birthday tomorrow so woo!
You know what? Today is great. Played basketball like a fire...
Although American psych-talk isn't my preference, I know what 'in the zone' is. And I was in the Zone. Somehow everything worked. We faced people who could play, surprised ourselves. I ran the wall, straight up, buried it after balancing with my forearm.

And then went to classes, talked to Lucinda. She's lovely.
I'm filled with love for everyone... Thanks almost-birthday!

I've been reading the Moth Diaries... It's really good so far.
What I don't get is 'unreliable narrator'. I mean... I get it in that I can analyse myself what the narrator describes and reach different conclusions. But, what I don't think I could cope with is a lying narrator... I mean fictional constructs are all 'lies' anyway, but...
But if the narrator was fictionally lying it makes the book invalid. If there's only one internal narrator, you must be willing to suspend your disbelief and accept their words...

So yeah.
But maybe it would be of interest to have a lying narrator?
Hm...

I'm gonna go shower. I'm excited.

'Went to the porch, to have a thought...' (Modest Mouse)

E came round after a night away, separated. Brought her to my empty house, under construction.
Threw a loose floorboard down, took us down to the floor.
Abandoned houses have always intrigued me.
And then, we lay there, looking at the Pullmanian dust surrounding us. Falling fractally around her eyes. Perfect stillness and

Then we left: she was t i r e d. But, we'll go back.

Am I the only one who thinks a gutted house is a perfect place to lose your virginity?

Hey... Back from the dead, or at least that's what it feels like.
Except maybe not back yet. More like still in a Stygian abyss... Oh well.

Yesterday went film, with girl. I had such an honestly good time, looking at her beautiful eyes. Analysing the Motorcycle Diaries. She thanked me, speaking to my neck.

The Motorcycle Diaries? Courage. That's what was needed. Couldn't they have elongated a couple of the beautiful shots? Elevated them to Uzakian simpicity, but with some meditative air.

I've noticed. Every film, all over. They have shots of the beautiful landscape. Not beautiful shots of the landcape. It's not hard. I'm sorry, but I can stand a shot that lasts more than a second. Any adventure should be praised. Don't be scared; no one wants to see an over-the-shoulder shot again. Really.

And the other day E came over. Came up to my room, smiled, got into bed.
We cuddled for practically three hours, deliciously serene. Her hands traced the outline of my body: 'you have no stomach!'. Was happy; had lost weight.
Each delicate finger seemed to unnerve me and light me up. I didn't know what being touched felt like.
She unclenched her hand at one point, digits spidering their way down onto my stomach. I seized up in ecstacy. Then...
The clothes started coming off. It was like I had always wanted it. A slow unfrenzy of passion, grins.
We smiled again. I marvelled at her pasty whiteness where she had been covered for the summer. I brought her down to me.
But no.

It. Wouldn't. Work. Tight like nothing else, there was no way. Not-quite shattered, we left the house, still virgins.

I don't think I can face asking the chemist's for 'sexual lubricant'.

Dreams... Dreams...
I slept with E, it was delicious. Cousin started talking about fencing. Turns out that odd thing in E's bra is actually to detect covering...
Someone threw their brother 6 feet in the air, and he landed on his head in a ditch far behind. Shit.
In the spaceship, the man was rather Wario-Ware in his ordering of people back to their seats. Bad HUD alerted us to asteroids etc..

Let's all go to the sea! I'm so tired I'm about to implode, but I'll ignore it to tippity-tap some crap out.
Let's see... Today was quite nice. Hard labour soothes the sould, seeing E makes me happy. So a good day.
And who'm I now in love with? Emily Dickinson...

Higgeldy piggeldy
Emily Dickinson
Liked to use dashes
Instead of full stops

Nowadays, faced with such
idiosyncracy
Critics and editors
send for the cops

(someone... Will post author later...)
Well I'm off write soon!

I don't know what to think; what to say; how to be.
All I know is that being around her is... Wholesome and fun and what it should be. I know she's acting for me, but acting for me is healthier than whatever else.

And yeah. Napping is like... Just take the metaphorical sleeping pill, lay back and recover. Does anything seem as virtuous as a nap? Not to me... I'll write more soon! Promise!

So I'm back. Loving.

The nights with E were like an awakening. I love her, yeah. But... Never such a tactile admission from her that she loved me too.
As we lay there, in each other's arms, I simply... I simply dissolved.
She stroked and caressed my body. Role-reversal. The most delightful sense of togetherness and being controlled. Her light fingers dancing a rhythm across my prone body. Spider-fingers creating electric chills.
Delight