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Post by rabastan on Oct 29, 2009 21:43:38 GMT -5
[- now and again i think “his and hers, for better or worst” -] Being sick is awesome.*
Even more awesome: when Khai gets sick.**
It’s given me a lot of time to think, though. About what exactly I want to do with myself when this is all said and done. Not me and Khai, but school. Which is of course…well that’s just it. I don’t want us to end. At all. Except next year I won’t be here and she will be. If it were up to my parents, this time next year I’m going to be married to Ashlee and probably already have a kid on the way that had better be a boy otherwise Constantine will freak.List of things I don’t want in my near future:
- A wife - A kid At least…not that way. Not with her. I want to ask
Maybe not Ashlee, but
What else is there
I’m going to bed.
_____________________________________
* Sarcasm.
** Even more sarcasm._____ page: 74
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Post by rabastan on Nov 4, 2009 23:33:30 GMT -5
[- let’s hear it for america’s suitehearts -] Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer <-- Do you know you’re unlike any other? You’ll always be my thunder, and I said Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors I don’t want to wanna ever love another
You will You’ll always be my thunder So bring on the rain And bring on the thunder
//
Today is a winding road Tell me where to start and tell me something I don’t know, whoa Today I’m on my own I can’t move a muscle And I can’t pick up the phone, I don’t know
* wip thunder, boys like girls
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Post by rabastan on May 19, 2010 23:51:05 GMT -5
[- tell me you’d like boys like me better in the dark, lying on top of you -] I got stuck sitting by Marlene today in Charms. (Nostalgic?) Which isn’t really a bad thing, if we’re going to be honest about it. She’s still the same as ever. Sits too close without even realizing she’s doing so, picks at her hair when she stops paying attention to Flitwick, and I swear she must change position every five minutes like it’s painful for her to sit still or something. I don’t have a problem with that per say, but every time she moves I get another wave of her perfume. Makes it kind of hard for a guy to concentrate. Not that I particularly ever care to pay much attention in class anyway, but today I found it kind of annoying. Which surprised me. So I found myself, every time she’d flip her hair or cross / re-cross her legs, trying to figure out why it was so distracting. Before I would notice those types of things and encourage them. But “before” what?
Mick said before Khai found a whip, but I’ve decided it was before I figured out that if you just keep chasing skirts all your life, eventually they’re all going to look the same. Same pattern, same length, same hip sway as they walk away from you in the morning.
Lately, I’ve been thinking, and I don’t want anyone walking away anymore._____ page: 75
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Post by rabastan on May 20, 2010 12:00:23 GMT -5
[- why can you read me like no one else? i hide behind these words, but i’m coming out -]
I swear I’m going to kill my mother for every buying me this stupid thing. No one is ever going to read it. But I write in it anyway, onto the pages that will someday go up in flames. I wonder if there’s a spell that could do that. I die, the book dies? There has to be. Of course someone might question why a book suddenly bursts into flames…sets the house on fire if no one’s there…well, okay maybe that isn’t such a good idea but something like that. Something less outwardly violent but still extremely self destructive. What the hell am I even doing?
Reversal back to the point. So. I’ve. Been. Thinking. I wake up to Khai almost every morning. But this morning, I woke up a bit earlier than usual. I didn’t want to move. She’s just such a peacefully sleeper. Sometimes I feel like it’s the only time she ever looks content these days. Poor girl, having enough to worry about besides her rambunctious boyfriend. I really don’t help the situation. I know that. I’m not ideal. But I am. For her. I think. We know how it works. We don’t work at all apart and we aren’t much better off together, but at least to the latter we have each other. It’s better than being alone. I drive myself crazy going other this, but I always end up at the same spot. That says something, right? I have a less than admirable family, I’ve never had the best morals – I’ve never really had them at all – and just thinking about what I could do to her by letting her into that…world…my world… It’s like I live in two different fragments of time. On the one hand, I love being with her. She keeps me happy, in the most sincerest of ways. On the other hand, I’m destructive. I enjoy that, too. I’d be screwing myself over to write it all out, but there are “things” I’ve done that anyone would rightly faint at the thought of it happening. Why does Khai have to be part of that? Why?
It’s all or nothing, I’m told. But I want both sides, so badly, and if I can’t pick one, I have to put them together. I don’t want to. But I think I need to.
I don’t want to live in fragments anymore. I want to be whole.
This morning, it was different. Just watching her sleep – if I could really wake up to that every morning, if I had that to come back to. Every day. Rest of my life. I’ve called it “Forever” for so long now, and I’ve told her, “I’ll love you forever,” and she’s told me, she wants me to stay forever. This idea of forever, how long is it? Until the end of the year? Until she finds someone new? Until she realizes I’m no good? Or until a few years from now, a decade or two? None of those answers feel sufficient enough. They all…concern me, because I don’t like any of those prospects. When I say forever, I mean forever. Today, tomorrow, thirty years from now, until I’m lying on my death bed hoping God’s as forgiving as they say, if there even is one at all. Whatever’s after this, it doesn’t even matter to me. My heaven is here, with her, in this immeasurable forever. And I figured it out, this idea, a better name for it, something concrete, something tangible, something I can see. Just one last thing I could ask of her. I’m 18, I know. Talking to Constantine about it might as well be a suicidal mission. Dominique might be more understanding. Maybe. If I’m lucky, and catch her on a good day. Rodolphus is questionable. But he always is. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve made up my mind. This thing, that I want, need.
Marriage.
_____ page: 76
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Post by rabastan on May 20, 2010 12:01:21 GMT -5
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