Nightmares of Heterosexuality

Current Mood:  High

 

The door was ancient. Splintered and cracked… metal cut through the wood elegantly holding the hinges in. The clock to his left read 3:09. He stuck in the ancient key and twisted it to the door’s liking to reveal the other side. There was nothing there but an empty darkness- much like his mind. He seemed to see a boney fleshless hand emerge from the shadows. It beckoned him forward. He took a step into the darkness, obeying the beckons, though knowing they only existed in his mind. He could see nothing, hear nothing, and feel nothing. His senses were completely clouded by the darkness and there was no knowing where he was headed. He longed to believe there was a presence with him, a company, but there was none. He imagined that if the path were lit, he would have guidance by the black cloaked figure of death. But it was non existent. He was alone. Utterly, completely alone. He began to hear a low female voice echo through him. A voice that sounded much like Helen. He gripped his hair and gritted his teeth to keep himself form either attacking the darkness or crying. He strode forward, still gripping his hair. He slipped on a puddle of some sort that lay on the darkness beneath him. It smelt raw. Rotting flesh. He gagged, but forced back the burning in his throat. He shit his pants and let out a dainty rattle through his teeth. He fell to the floor, his face now immersed in the cold flesh and blood. The darkness began spinning around him and he felt himself begin to lose consciousness. The gore dripped down his throat, suffocating him. He spat, but it was no use. Helen’s voice was again apparent. A silver light appeared before him- taking the shape of a woman. It was Helen. Her sad and deeply lined face pierced him. Her voice trailed through the darkness.
             “Dave…”

He coughed up the remains of the nachos onto his beer sodden shirt. He caressed the Chelsea flag next to his bed and turned off the telly. He pulled off his dirty t-shirt and threw it onto the floor with the others. Then laid down close to Jake’s warm body and ruffled his hair.

            “Hey Snowflake!” he said, waking Jake.

            “Good morning, Sexy!” Jake replied obviously not noticing Dave’s bare, fat stomach.

            “Up for some tea and crumpets?” Dave asked. Jake nodded and they embraced each other briefly. Then Dave tied his robe around himself and made his way into the kitchen- he had offered to serve Jake breakfast in bed. As he filled the tea kettle, he wondered if that dream was hauntingly telling him he was still straight. The doorbell rang and he skipped to answer it. Just there was the test of his manhood. There was an undressed prostitute and a rather flamboyant prostidude. His mouth dropped open as he looked from one to the other.

            “What the bloody hell-” He broke off, not knowing what to say. He began to panic slightly as he found himself longing for the woman.

            “Pumpkin…” Jake said, reaching the door, “oh, visitors.” He started making eyes at the man there. Dave noticed Jake looking down at the man’s gifts.

            “How ‘bout I take the lady and you take the gentleman?” he suggested. Jake agreed. They had both found themselves that morning. All was well.

THE END

Meg
and
Nikki

Dexter

Current Mood:  Evil

Dexter

A fire flickered in his cold dark eyes

He wanted so much to steal the breath from her

His twisted instinct told him that things must die

So he let her guilty blood, and in pieces she will lie

The Fruit That Will Rot Alone

Current Mood:  Cold

Pluck the fruit from the vine

Looks so beautiful and fine

Not too callow, and not too ripe;

Wet and sparkling with dew

A berry plucked, not too soon.

Once removing this great fruit,

You find another all alone

A different shade, all its own

Much smaller and less appealing

But inside you, it spawns a feeling:

Surrounded by such luscious flowers

Abandoned and forlorn it will cower

This fruit will rot alone

To Further Explain My Love For Jim Morrison...

Current Mood:  Chill

"I think of myself as an intelligent, sensitive human being with the soul of a clown which always forces me to blow it at the most important moments."

"That's what real love amounts to- letting a person be what he really is. Most people love you for who you pretend to be. To keep their love, you keep pretending- performing. You get to love your pretence. It's true, we're locked in an image, an act-"

"Expose yourself to your deepest fear; after that, fear has no power, and the fear of freedom shrinks and vanishes. You are free."

"Love cannot save you from your own fate."

"I like people who shake other people up and make them feel uncomfortable."

"People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over. Yeah, I guess it is a friend..."

"Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as ravens claws."

"Where's your will to be weird?"

"I wouldn't mind dying in a plane crash. It'd be a good way to go. I don't want to die in my sleep, or of old age, or OD...I want to feel what it's like. I want to taste it, hear it, smell it. Death is only going to happen to you once; I don't want to miss it."

"This is the strangest life I've ever known."

"Being drunk is a good disguise. I drink so I can talk to assholes. This includes me."

"The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are. You trade in your reality for a role. ...You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask."

"I think in art, but especially in films, people are trying to confirm their own existences."

"When you make your peace with authority, you become authority."

"Some of the worst mistakes of my life have been haircuts."

"Listen, real poetry doesn't say anything; it just ticks off the possibilities. Opens all doors. You can walk through anyone that suits you."

"Actually I don't remember being born, It must have happened during one of my black outs."

"If my poetry aims to achieve anything, it's to deliver people from the limited ways in which they see and feel."

"You're all a bunch of fuckin' slaves!"

In Wait

Current Mood:  Enlightened

Exhale these feelings that turn inside me

Bubble and burn and writhe like snakes

Numb and lifeless like a zombie

To watch you leave and join the fakes

One in the army of the mannequin

Stand so beautiful and hollow

Disappointing to see you've given in

Breathe in your pride and swallow

Collapse beneath the shit that piles

And I will waste away in waiting

For you to come home from your eternal exile

Alone and cold I will die in waiting

To You

Current Mood:  Discontent

I will give you all that I have

I will give you all of what's inside me

My very soul within me

I will pass to you all my strength

I will breathe myself within you

Until I am no more

I would give my life to save your own

I would be yours forever more

Let me light your way

Like a candle in the dark

Let the ever burning flame

Be that of my heart

Let me hold your hand within my own

Never would I ever let you go

I will be your provider

I will carry all your weight

Though I'm heavy with my own

Lay your head down on my shoulder

Let me run my fingers through your hair

Let me tell you that I'll be there

I swear to you I'm yours forever

Please say you're mine too

You're So Fake

Current Mood:  Awake

Your desperate need for their acceptance

Your fruitless desire for their attention

You've become the queen of society's infection

The tainted smile on your face

I want to make it go away

Lead them on

Let them believe you may actually be within their reach

Then push them away

For someone higher on the chain

Become the one they all flock to

Hungry vultures feasting on your lies

Spend all your time trying to satisfy the thirst

Drain yourself, and rest in an early hearse

You may seem so real

But you're so fake

One day you'll fall under the pressure

Under the pressure you will break

But I will not let you drag him in

Lead him on

Left for dead

I will not let you bury him

Or wipe the sweet smile from his face

You must realize that he is real

And you are not

You're not good enough for him

Elsewhere, you should let yourself rot