The strumming of a guitar was barely audible as I walked down the street towards one of the pubs I had been beginning to regular. every Friday night at 9 o’clock, they had open mic nights, and as it just so happened, it was Friday. I pulled open the door and let the cold air swish around me as I removed my hat and laid it down at my regular table.

Since I was new to performing, and also kind of, well, late, I was the last act for the night. I took off my jacket and burrowed into my chair nervously, preparing to wait for everyone else to finish their turns.

As I was taking the first sip of my drink, the regular host appeared. “Due to a low number of entrants today, we will have some performers playing multiple times. I do apologize sincerely”, he said. As he walked off of the stage, he beckoned forward a young man around my age, a young man I had seen before…

Before I even knew why, I stood up quickly knocking over my chair. As he started to strum his guitar, I began to hum along as if I knew exactly what he was doing, almost as if I was a part of him…

“Well I don’t know how, and I don’t know why..”, I began, startling him. I gave him a sly grin, and continued, shocking not only myself, but everyone. I sang the best I ever had along with that boy, as if my vocal abilities, and his guitar playing abilities were meant to be put together, and combined. It was almost like something from a storybook. We never faltered, and we continued onward through song after song as the crowd erupted into cheers and raucous rounds of clapping.

When people started to trickle out, they both respectfully came off stage and prepared to leave themselves.

“Hey, look, I know we don’t know each other very well and all, but do you think maybe we could go out and eat somewhere when we finish up here?” I tried to ask confidently.

His face immediately reddened a tremendous amount. “I-I’m sorry, I-uh I don’t have much money..”, He faltered. “Hey, look, don’t worry about that, okay? I know a great soup place just down the street that’s really cheap, and on top of that, we can split the bill. Does that sound okay to you?”, I said, while smiling sweetly at him. “O-okay..”, He said somewhat slowly, as if disbelieving what was going on.

I helped him pack up the rest of his things, and together we donned our myriad of jackets, extra shirts, scarves, and hats, preparing for the brutal cold expected outside. I slipped my gloved hand into his as we trudged down the wintery, snowy road at the end of daylight, with hope kindled in my heart and warmth in my cheeks.


Okay so, if you want the first song they played together, here it is:?t=45s      -It’s supposed to start at 45 seconds to fit with the story.-

And for all the others, use your imagination! I’m sure you can do that. Anyways, that’s it and stuff. So I’ll be around I’m sure.



I slid down the wall, defeated. Empty. Broken. i stared emptily into space for an immeasurable amount of time. I just felt the resonations of all the pain of suffering and just complete and total loss I had just gone through.

I listened to everything she had to say, when she talked about someone else, I listened and supported her. When she explained what they went through, I told her I was happy for her. When they had troubles, I helped her. But the whole entire time, I was being destroyed. I lost the need to even really live for awhile. I didn’t understand why something like this was happening. I felt empty. I felt like I had been stabbed with the one person I trusted 100% in the whole world. I felt abandoned, and alone, and like there was no reason for me to exist any more.

I listened to “our song” repeatedly, telling myself it would be okay. That I could make it through this and there was another side where I wasn’t just a complete wreck. But there is no other side. So I left. I ripped a part of myself away, and left, and now I just don’t know. I just know that I can’t anymore, and that’s it. That’s all I know, and all I will know for awhile I think.


Just for reference here, Year Sevens are the same as Seniors, sixes are Sophomores, and etc., in this story.


Everything had happened so quickly. One moment, they were all eating their Dinner together in the Great Hall. The next minute, the Professors had ushered all of the students under the tables, and had left in an absolute hurry to be shortly followed by the sounds of a battle.

One professor had been left behind to pair up the students just in case something were to happen. As it just so happened, he paired Jaime with Emalena. The two had known each other since they were children, but they weren’t on the best of terms because of their Family’s hatred of each other. Jaime, who had harbored feelings for Emalena since he was a child, was excited at this prospect for just a moment until he remembered why they were actually in this situation. Emalena, on the other hand, had no conscious feelings for him. She considered him a friend, and a somewhat loose one at that.

Just after the professor had finished pairing up everyone, the doors were blown apart by a gout of flame. The professors who had gone to fight were on their back foot, doing their best to save the children with the room. The year sevens sprang up and started to fight with the professors, using everything they had been taught to do their best to save their lower class men.

An explosion shook the room, knocking Emalena backwards on to Jaime, who wrapped his arms around her, thinking that this may be the last and only time he will ever be able to. Emalena struggled to get up and help fight, tears stinging her eyes as she watched countless bodies fall, and head multiple curses being shouted.

Unable to bear it any longer, she spun around and burrowed into Jaime’s shoulders, tears streaking her face. He gently placed his hand on the back of her head, holding her as she sobbed.

It was this exact moment she realized that she had feelings for him, that she had always had feelings for him in the deepest parts of herself, and she had just refused to recognize them. She remembered all the times he had been there to help her, all the times he had done his best to comfort her when she was down, all the times he had stayed when he should’ve gone. All the times he had just been there, throughout her whole life.

She pulled away from his shoulder and slapped him. He looked at her, bewildered. She returned his look with a fiery glare. “Why didn’t you ever tell me, you idiot?,” She said in a fierce whisper, while smiling slightly.

She placed her hands on his face and gently pulled his mouth to hers, curving her lips to fit perfectly on his. He threw his arms around her and pulled her closer, pressing her body to his tightly.

He pulled away and rested his forehead on hers, making their noses brush together. She felt his breath on her top lip, making her shiver. Running his hand across her cheek lightly, he leaned in towards her slightly parted lips, and she allowed herself to be absorbed into the soft strength of the kiss, letting it gain in passion until she found that her hands were running through his short hair, and she was willfully pressing her body against his.

In that moment, time stood still. everything else in the world was blotted out. All that existed was their lips, moving against each other, completely engulfed by passion and love. Their differences fell away, all of the petty things that had held them back before were stripped away as if they were nothing.

They both pulled away, breathing hard. “You’re so clueless,” She said with a small smile playing across her lips before she pulled her into him one more time.


Street-side meeting(?)

I pulled my hood up against the snow falling on a mid-winter day. I marched along the street with many other people, all varying in gender, shape, and size. I looked up, waiting to cross the road. As usual when i was in a hurry, all I saw looking back up at me was the red hand, saying to not cross. I started to look around at my surroundings. There were two women standing next to me, talking loud enough that I’m sure people across the road heard them. The man next to me was short, had balding hair, and smelled funny. I surreptitiously took a step away from him. Then, I gazed across the road. I scanned the faces in the small group, and what I saw set my heart beating at a staccato. I looked away, then looked back to make sure. I gazed forward, not believing what I was seeing. The sign changed and people started to brush past me as I stood there, stunned. She began to approach, and I came to my senses. I looked one last time, imprinting how she looked and how her smile was before I started to cross the road. She was of average height, not too tall, but just right. The perfect height. She had blonde hair that shone even through the snow and her hooded jacket.. Her eyes… How do I describe those eyes? Her eyes were a perfect blend of Bahama water blue, rain forest green, and the golden color of honey. The eyes that could captivate thousands if they took the time to actually look. The eyes that haunted my sleep for days. Her figure was lithe, and she seemed to be made completely of grace. Her every step invited onlookers, and she carried this easily and did not flaunt it. It was like watching a snow leopard walk. All grace and no wasted movement in that grace. She dressed normally for our cold weather, nothing too flashy.

She reached the other sidewalk and began walking towards where I just came from. I stared in that direction longingly as I reached the side of the road I had been originally going towards. I smiled ruefully and started walking home again, knowing that I wouldn’t ever see this exceptionally beautiful girl, this girl that captivated me for days on end, who still hasn’t made me stop thinking, again.  And knowing that I would never get to truly meet her as I wanted to, that I may have just missed the opportunity of a lifetime.

Alright, so this one I came up with very recently, and I kinda just made it up as I went along. The character in this story– the girl that is, is based off of one of my friends. And yes, she is beautiful. So are all of my friends. That are girls, that is. I mean to me, that’s just the honest truth. It’s what I believe, and without any doubt. So some of you can expect a story about you coming around some time or another. as I’m sure I’ll write about you all at some point.

How do you guys feel feelings?

Yeah, you read it right, and I wanna know, if you’ll tell me (There should be a smiley face here but this website makes it look like a fucking demented I don’t know what, so let’s pretend, shall we?) Feelings are a weird phenomenon. We know what brings about feelings and such, but why do I, as a person, have to be attracted to this other person? I may not even know them well, but I am attracted to them. I have no idea why sometimes. I just don’t. But I mean, it’s all feelings, y’know? And feelings are weird. So, I’m going to do my best to explain my feelings about the person I like. Apparently, my feelings are weird even to other people, not just me. Anyways, here I go.

The girl I like.. How can I explain this? The girl I like could make anyone’s day better if she tried. I wrote something awhile back that was from what a friend told me, about taking the paths in the hall where the character would encounter their love interest as much as possible. Yeah, well, that’s something I do. I try to see them as much as possible. She can make my day better with a hello, and my day the worst with a goodbye. She can bring me out of my worst moods just by smiling. If I hear her voice, I look up without thinking and look around to find her. It’s pretty tough to make that seem nonchalant, by the way. I look at her and my surroundings kinda just.. blur out. It’s like a focus on a very expensive camera. You can choose a very specific spot and focus it. Except, well, this is done by my foolish brain, not a camera. There’s a warmth in my chest that I suppose could be identified as affection when i think about her. She makes me happy, to put it bluntly. I have an analogy I came up with awhile back that Imma use here.

Well.. I can explain it like this.. Imagine walking into a room. An empty room mind you, that’s white. Devoid of any colors. And every once in awhile, the walls start to get a little color. Now imagine, this room, it’s been white for a long time. A very long time. And one day, this girl, she comes in, and you meet her, and the room changes to a deep reddish pink color. The room that’s been devoid of color your whole life is now flourishing with an abundance of color, and you don’t know what to do. Happiness seems attainable for once. And you talk to her and you melt inside. You’re chest tightens, and you can’t breathe correctly. She make you oh so nervous, but it’s worth it. She makes you happy, and she makes you feel like you’re going to explode from joy by just talking to her.

That applies to more than one person, mind you. But it’s true. That analogy was come up with when someone asked me how I would describe liking someone. They told me that I’m in love with that person, and I may very well be, but in my mind, I’m not.

That’s it for now at least. I would explain further, but I mean… I can’t identify my own feelings guys. I never have been able to. I don’t know what I feel half the time because I just recently got to where I can actually feel feelings. It’s all confusing. And a little frustrating. But y’know, it’s whatever.

For my friends…

So uhm.. I don’t have alot of friends, not really. I can probably name all of the people I consider real friends on two hands, well.. 1.2 hands to be specific. But my friends.. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’d pretty much do anything for my friends. Yes, anything. That doesn’t mean I don’t make mistakes, I am a human being. I make mistakes all the time, especially considering my friends. There is such a thing as caring too much, and I think I care too much sometimes. I don’t know, it’s just weird to me, foreign. As a writer I can picture these perfect love concepts and relationships between friends, but when I try to apply them into real life, it’s usually a mistake that I come to regret, one that create a chasm between my friends and I that tends to become not very cross-able, to say the least. Anyways, I’m writing this little thing on the fly, made up characters, everything. But I’m trying to put real emotions into it, emotions I feel towards people I like, people I dislike, people who’re my friends, and people who aren’t. I’m going to try and describe what it’s like to be a teenage guy who suffers from understanding emotions and not being able to experience them. Not being able to say “Oh hey, I know that feeling.” Not even being able to say they know what it’s like to get a real hug. *EDIT*: Okay, so yeah, I have gotten one real hug before. I know what it’s like. But I just.. I watch these people be happy and stuff and I can’t connect to that. I have trouble actually having emotions. I dunno, just something I dwell upon alot.



You know what? Fuck it. Been sitting here for a couple hours with Writer’s block. I just can’t think of a way to write it as a story. I just have to explain it. It’s difficult. Alright, here I go. For as long as I can remember, I’ve known I was broken. I had a.. dysfunctional family to say the least, but it wasn’t that bad compared to some families. My parents were always screaming and yelling at each other, and I can’t ever remember a time when my parents were happy together. At all. Ever. As a young child, I never had that.. Imprint of what love is like, of what love should be. I had screaming and yelling parents who would say they love me, and that it’ll be okay, when it was never okay. It’s just the way life is you know? And I can deal with it. But around 2nd grade, I realized that I had depression. Like straight up, I don’t have feelings towards anything anymore depression. I never told anyone. Not until recently. No one in my family knows, they can’t tell. 8 years of hiding it helps pretty well I’d say. I’ve never been able to express my emotions correctly. Ever. Happiness is just a vague concept to me, and love is so far off that it’s like Pluto. Let me be more clear: Mutual love. The chance to be happy. I’ve loved plenty of times in my life. Well, I should say I’ve loved my hollow version of love. I’ve only recently come to realize what love truly is, and how it works. I know that something like love is an unobtainable thing for someone like me, someone of my status, so maybe that’s why I yearn and hunger for it, like it’s some drug that I have to have because everyone says it’s so great. And to be brutally honest, I have been in a relationship recently where I can say that we loved each other. I could easily say that. But it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t long distance, she lives in my town, but goes to another school district. I met her once, so we know each other really well on an emotional level, but not so well on a physical level. I’d like to say that the reason we get along so well is because we learned who we really were to each other, and that appearance didn’t matter. Which is the truth actually, she didn’t care at all what I looked like. We kinda just fell into place with each other. But.. I can’t explain it. It’s complicated, and can be addressed at a further time from this. Going back to the main topic here– My brokenness. As I’ve already stated, I can’t just do emotions. Besides that one girl, I’ve never been in a relationship. Hell, she was the first person to hug me in like what, 3 or 4 years?I don’t know, but it was a long time. I’m so foreign to physical interaction, I don’t know how to hug properly. Seriously. Like, I’ve tried, but apparently I don’t do it right. The only reason I know how to hold anyone’s hand is cause my school’s PDA policy is lenient. I’m gonna share a secret with you guys, alright? You can tell whoever the fuck you want, as it’s not really a secret if you know me.  I want to be that guy that is the girl’s shoulder to cry on, her steady voice of reason, her protector when she needs it and her advisor when she doesn’t. I want to be the guy that when the girl sees him her face blossoms into a smile and she burrows into his chest, wrapping her arms around him tight. I want to be the guys who is always there, no matter what, the guy who you can rely on. I want to be the nice guy who doesn’t finish last for once. I don’t do mean things hardly ever, and never on purpose, or at least without good reason. BUt it’s like in today’s age, being the nice caring guy is the wrong thing to do. The guys who’re “cool” and are absolute dicks, get the girls. And that’s just not right. I don’t care if you’re beautiful or not. Doesn’t matter. Outer beauty is just something created to ease the human mind. What matters is what’s on the inside. ALL of my female friends are beautiful inside and out, and I can say that with complete confidence. I believe it firmly. Everyone has their faults. And I try my best to work around that. Someone who is one of my best friends now nearly made me kill myself around 6 or 7 weeks ago, and I’m still not over that. But she’s my friend. So, I do whatever I can to help. I do what guys should always be doing, instead of being caught up in their selves and their image, they should learn to actually care. They should learn that self-image isn’t as important as society makes it out to be. You– All of you, are beautiful. Don’t care who you are. There’s a very select amount of people in this world that just hearing their voice can make me smile, and I’m lucky enough to call them friends. I know I’m rambling at this point, but I want to make one thing clear. I’m not who you think I am. If you see me in school, or in public, or anywhere, I’ll act indifferent towards you, or show a mild interest. But know that inside, I’d do anything for you. I’d rather die than see any of you hurt. And you all know who I’m addressing right now. So, thanks for being there when I really need it guys. Means alot. I’ll be seeing you I suppose.

Feel the Warmth

I tend to get inspiration from friends and observations.. In this case, I got it from my friend Kim. So, this one’s to you Kim, thanks for all your support, and for basically forcing me to get this blog, which I do not regret by the way .-.


I made sure I took the ways where I crossed paths with him the most. I prepare myself to say all of the things I’ve always wanted to say to him, to show him that I care, that I love him. But when I see him, my thoughts scatter, and I forget everything I was going to say, and instead I am just filled with this warmth that courses through my entire being. If he even speaks, no matter what it is he says, I fall in love with him more. His every movement entrances me. I watch his lips as he talks, curving with the words he speaks. I watch his eyes as he focuses on me, so full of eagerness. I long for the scarce days when he hugs me as we cross paths, when I get to feel him. I burn the memory of his body against mine, his warmth against my cool. I yearn for when our gazes lock and time seems to stop, that that moment the only moment that matters, or has ever mattered, in my life.  I love him.

He is beauty through and through.

He is the silver lining in a world of darkness.

He is my light.


So yeah, that’s it. I don’t know how I feel about this one. I feel like it doesn’t do her feelings justice. I don’t know why, but I feel like this isn’t adequate. Maybe it’s just me, I dunno.

On the fly…

Alright, so basically, What’s going on here is that a friend of mine told me some emotions she had while reading one of my excerpts, and I made a little short story-esque thing from that.

I sat and watched the steady stream of pedestrians walk past on another dreary day. As always, I was accompanied by a few friends, who chatted about trivial matters such as fashion, which celebrity was dating which, and of course, their favorite Drama TV shows.  I was only half listening, as I didn’t care all that much, when my eyes just gravitated towards an unknown passerby. I have no earthly idea why, I had never even seen this man in my life, But i felt a slight attraction towards him already. He stepped inside of the shop, a little wet and disheveled. As he hung up his coat, I got a small look at him. My breath caught in my throat,my chest tightened, my heart-rate started going crazy, and I felt somewhat lightheaded. The newcomer turned around and glanced at our table. He caught me gawking at him, and smiled at me. That was it. The feelings I felt were beyond words. All of the silly phrases you hear about love are nothing compared to this. “Head over heels” seemed to be a petty comparison to what happened inside of me. It was like.. It was like I had been living in the cold and dark for my whole life, and his smile was pure warmth. It was like being blind my whole life and suddenly being able to see. When he smiled at me, I felt like I was the center of the world, and that I was finally safe from harm. It was like nothing you can put into human terms, into any language.

Feelings are hard to put into words sometimes, you know? It’s a lot harder than you think if you’ve never done it. I’m a guy, and this is written from a girl’s perspective, obviously, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t difficult. Guys have just as many feelings as girls do. I mean hell, even I have feelings, though I don’t admit it that often. Feelings are tough is what I’m getting at. Hard to describe them in a way that does them justice. I dunno, it’s just something I think about sometimes.