And now, ladies and gents. i present to you another short story, by yours truly.




he’s my drug,the deadly addiction I silently vow to quit but never will. right now I need him too much...No, not him. I refuse to be too dependent on anyone. So no, I don’t need him-I need this. I need to not think, to let the numbness I’ve been feeling for the past 6 long months fade away, just for a little while. Just a little while to feel normal. To feel like my only problem at the moment is to worry about getting caught, getting caught being here-being here with him. I need to feel like that’s my only issue; I need to be caught up in a moment, even in a moment as meaningless as this.
In this moment that revolves around heated kisses, wandering hands, adrenaline rushes, and my swollen stomach bumping against his very toned one. With teenage hearts hammering in are chests at the knowledge that what is going on at this very moment is both very wrong and very right at the same time.
Of course the wrong long out weighs the right, as it undoubtedly does in cases such as these. Right now, I should be in my booth, running sound for this Godforsaken play. I should be reflecting on the events of the past few months. I should be coming to terms with my pregnancy, the nause and morning sickness. all that jazz. I should be allowing myself to forgive noah for abandoning me. I should be trying to see things from his point of view. I should be trying to feel anything other than utter hate for him and his “new and improved” girlfriend. I should be trying my very best to deal with jacksons illness, comforting him, telling him things will be fine-that he’ll be fine, even when I, myself believe that things really won’t be fine, not this time, anyway. I should be dealing with a million other things other than this.
i should be anywhere but here, in a booth with Andrew riley, pushing all the “shoulds” in my life to the very back of my mind by indulging in this second sinful act against God.
but he's addicting. and I really can’t help but wonder sometimes if things might have turned out differently between him and i if i hadn't gotten pregnant, if jackson hadn’t gotten sick, if my life hadn’t completely gone to shit. Maybe if things hadn’t turned out the way they did we might have actually had something more than this simple animalistic attraction. Maybe just maybe I would have been addicted to him for reasons other then his scent (resembling some type of masculine shampoo) or his physical attractiveness (a chisled face with stunning blue eyes and his hair, jet black, ). Maybe I wouldn’t have keep coming back for his taste, or his all around knowledge of where to put his delicate hands. Maybe instead of those things, I would have kept coming back because I liked the way he spoke. Or the way he smiles at me when I tell a joke. Or maybe just maybe I could have kept coming back because I was in love with him.
But we don’t talk. I don’t tell jokes. he doesn’t smile, and this isn’t love.
All I know of him is his taste, his smell, and the fact that if I apply just the right amount of pressure to the point where his lips meet mine he pulls me closer to him, Inviting me to to use him, to take out all my anger at the things in my life out on him.
I’m sure there’s something he wants to forget too, possibly a someone. A first love perhaps. I really don’t know, like I said before, we don’t talk. We simply use each other for a single lustful moment and when that moment is done, we mutter our goodbyes, and go back to our separate lives.
For a little while anyway.
just until the high wears off and we find ourselves needing a little pick-me-up. Then we seek each other out, drop whatever the hell we’re doing and 'get down to business'. There are no “oh honey you had a bad day?” conversations, or any talking at all for that matter. Conversations about bad days and troubles at home are things for people in an actual relationship, for people in love.
We are not in love.
We will never be in love.
We were over before we began.
We never stood a chance.
he is my drug, my addiction, what keeps me grounded.
I may not love him, but I do love the way he is capable of making me feel: like everything is fine, like i'm not 6 months pregnant, like jackson will be okay. And most importantly I love the way he makes me forget that before I met him, I had to make myself bleed to feel alive.
and I almost love him for that, almost.
But I don’t, it’s like I said before, we never stood a chance.

Labels: Angst, Short story., Teenage

- *cough* miley cyrus.

has a new boy toy. Sources say the 'Hannah montanna' star is reportedly dating another rising one, Adam Sevani. [you might of saw him in Step up 2]. The "couple" were spotted enjoying a bike ride in Hollywood together last week, and hollywood gossips claim there little day out was just one of many recent "encounters".

Labels: Miley Cyrus and Adam sevani, Nick jonas., Selena gomez

- I always begin it in the middle - and i can never seem to find an ending nor a beginning. So, it usually stays that way. Just an ending. No start, no end. Anyway - heres one i began working on the other day...

The morning after our break up began differently than any day before. I woke up, stretched my freckled arms above my head, and realized that for the first time in a long time, i didn't have to reach for the cellphone on my dresser and call you to make sure you were awake.
Unfortunately, as i pressed my hands to my face i also realized that my eyes were swollen to the touch and that my head felt like it had been run over by a bus; the side affects of having literally cried myself to sleep. After gingerly climbing out of my tangled red cotton sheets, i carefully planted my feet on the cold wood floor, feeling a wave of nasuea run through my body almost instantly. I ignored it, and stood up, walking to my already-open closet. As i fingered through the rainbow selection of sweaters and polyester shirts with dangerously low necklines, my eyes fell upon a worn out, gray, long forgotten sweatshirt wadded into a ball at the very back. i keeled down and pulled it out of the corner, shaking the dust and some of the wrinkles out of it before pulling it over my messy head of brown hair. The garment ended neatly above the knees of my pink pajama pants, and conceled my swollen stomach nicely. i avoided meeting my reflection's eyes as i looked into the full length mirror next to my bedroom door, the sturdy line of my lips slowly cracking into a questionable smile. my hair was a tangle of fiery untamed curls, the sweatshirt smelled of mothballs, and yet, i felt strangely liberated, maybe even beautiful. For the first time in three years, i did not have to worry about what i was wearing. Comfortability, not sexuality, i relized, could come first.

So, ladies and gentlemen...there you have it. One of my many, nameless, beginning-less, end-less storys.

Labels: break-up, story, teen pregnancy

Helloo my fellow bloggers and blogg-ees, and welcome to the anonymous blog of a 15 year old realist. While, i can't tell you my name, what i can tell you, is this.

As far as adjectives go, i'm outspoken. I'm stubborn. I'm observant. I'm loud. i'm quiet. I'm happy. I'm guarded. I'm classy. Im blunt. but perfect? Not even close, then again who said i was trying to be? Sorry, but im not like those individuals who drop their dignity and morals at your feet. If you're looking for someone mysterious and unreadable, I'm the wrong girl. The saddest people I've ever met in my life are the ones who don't care deeply about anything at all. Passion and satisfaction go hand in hand. and without them, happiness is only temporary because there's nothing there to make it last. I love to hear people talk about what their most passionate about, because that's when you see people at their best. I believe in no-bullshit answers and saying what you feel. The only time you should cry is when you laugh too hard. I believe in being young and carefree. I beleive in blasting my music and singing off key. I feel best when I'm all dressed up with nowhere togo. Girls look at me and don't understand how I'm still smiling after all I've been through, but baby, life's too short to be anything but happy. I've learned that sometimes people aren't going to trust you, and it may be for no reason at all. Sometimes, people just judge you on what they think you will do, on who they think you are. And there's really nothing you can do about it. But remember one thing, they're not cheating you, they're cheating themselves. I beleive that flaws are what make people attractive. I beleive in second chances, and happy endings - even if i haven't got mine. I beleive that theres beauty in walking away, and to never look down on someone unless your helping them up. Each morning when I open my eyes, I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today, and only i can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn’t arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I’m going to be happy with it.

In May, i lost my beautiful baby sister

-to SIDS - [SUDDEN INFANT DEATH SYNDROME] which was, and still continues to be very hard for my family to cope with. This blog is a way for me to release myself. An online "getway" for me to say whatever i want to say, about anything i choose, during a time in which i feel i've lost my say in things completely.

So, Stay tuned - because maybe, just maybe you won't be dissapointed.

Peace and love,
'T'.

- *cough* miley cyrus.

has a new boy toy. Sources say the 'Hannah montanna' star is reportedly dating another rising one, Adam Sevani. [you might of saw him in Step up 2]. The "couple" were spotted enjoying a bike ride in Hollywood together last week, and hollywood gossips claim there little day out was just one of many recent "encounters".

Labels: Miley Cyrus and Adam sevani, Nick jonas., Selena gomez