Unfinished Stories

My Biggest Issue with Writing

So I love writing,  or I love the idea of writing. I’m not very good at finishing a story, and because of this I have a long list of started stories, varying in length and tone which I plan on putting up here for you internet strangers to hate and enjoy at your own pleasure. And perhaps this will encourage me to actually keep up with some of them and finish a story for like the first time in my life. So a few long hours of copying words from notepads into my phone at the kitchen table and you’ll all see the inside of my mind. 

Hold on tight. 

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Writing

A long week

So its been a long week, And I don’t know who I am, what to do, you get the feeling. 

I can’t afford food, and I’m terrified of losing the entire life I’ve built for myself. I’m a few weeks of negative replies and pressure from my parents from slipping beyond step one… basically I’m about a month away from letting four years of my life mean literally nothing. My entire recent history, even before I left home, has been built on leaving home. I love my family, but I hate the town I’m from, its stifling, If you ever want to feel lost, just become another worker toiling away into mediocrity, go visit my home town… I live in the city surronded by towers of concrete and my small town manages to be greyer…. 

I also found something that made me hate the girl I’ve been struggling to get over. One page of a5 writing made me realise that I no longer know the woman I used to love. I understand that this, ending such a long relationship, it changes people, but im starting to not like who she’s changing into… what she believes is independence and some kind of personal growth, to the people in her life just comes across as stubborn and arrogant. I think the biggest thing was she blamed the problems she has with me and my friends on me, like I’m some kind of fuel for the way my friends are around her, which is nothing but nice. She feels stifled by our friendship,  something we’ve all always prided ourself on, her new found independence and self worth is killing the bonds the rest of us have been trying so hard to keep alive during these huge events in our lives, and to know that one of the three people I trusted to always be there is trying to loosen that, purely because she needs to find her own self worth (something she always claimed was my fault not hers) makes me quite angry.  She took a lot from me when she decided she was done with us, she doesn’t get to take this. Its not happening.

Also I met someone new… I like her, but I don’t know what that actually means. Maybe I’m too focused on the past, or I’m focusing too hard on the future,  but I don’t know my own feelings.  It used to be so easy for me to sum up what someone meant to me, but now, I’m not sure. I enjoy her company, I like her friends, and I don’t know what we are or where we’re going. But for now,  I genuinely think I am okay with this, I’m happy with the new-ness of it all. The new people, this new… relationship, it helps, its slowly becoming the good things I need right now, but that’s also scary, as it’s now something else I could lose, if the pull of my home town wins. 

I am not gonna let it win. 

Uncategorized

Done trying

I am done trying to change, I know somebody who had a lot of problems with who I am, and for a while I agreed, there are parts of me I dont like.

So I tried to fix them, for me and them. Turns out some people aren’t happy about anything. You can take the whole fucking world and move the pieces and they’ll still have a problem with the chair you gave them. Best part is this person, has the audacity to ask that I take them seriously, because a few of there problems are upsetting them. So I am done.

Im not going to keep up this game anymore. Not for somebody who doesn’t even seem to care, or somebody who doesn’t even seem to get me. Its about time they changed for me first, or at least showed some kind of thanks for the work I’ve done.

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Burning Silence

I live my life in noise. I hide in sound and distraction and conversation. Silence terrifies me. 

You come into my house and they’ll be some form of music, either the scratchings of a record as I read and wrote in my room, or the background of a Tv show or a game. It the kitchen with my friends, some background music if our voices are not being loud enough. My life is loud, but because it needs to be.

Quiet is solitude, the music is a companion. Music is a friend that smiles at me and tells me not to worry about it. Music says don’t think about those things, cheer up. But he’s not always there, he sometimes have to leave, or worse,  I send him away. I take the needle off of the record, or I sit alone, turning off my ipod. Then its just me in the room, and my thoughts can escape. Loneliness becomes a force, a heavy blanket I get stuck beneath. My mind thinks of the things I lost and the things I’ve never had, hindsight is 20:20 and in the quiet all my mistakes, the many I could have prevented, become crystal clear reflections of my own quiet face. 

So I invite my friend Noise back in. A friend calls for me, or I change to a new track, if only to throw away the quiet for a short while, because I fear one day I’ll get trapped in it, and I won’t be able to get out. Until then I’ll keep the Noise close, keep the music alive. And it will do the same for me.

Mind in Writing · Writing

Cliché

I feel like a fool, like a bit of a joke. Im a cliché and the predictable part of a movies plot, im still in love with the girl.

See, weve all read this story before boy meets girl, all goes swimmingly as it should. Girl loves boy and vice versa, but because life is cruel and the universe needs something to laugh it something doesnt work. Girl leaves boy, boy is heartbroken, nothing feels the same but you have to move on, getting better is human, its what we are expected to do. Life stops when a person cant get better.

Well I thought I was getting better, I see her everyday and I can smile without it being a lie, or hurting. And we laugh. And im dating/ or at least trying what could be considered dating in this strange world we find ourselves. But Im not over it,  and I would be lying of I said I was. The problem with falling in love with the most beautiful girl youve evwr met is just that… she’s still the most beautiful girl youve ever met. And we get on, not like a house on fire,  an overused term resulting in burnt hands and property damage, but like sunrise and the dew, or a cup of tea and a cold morning. It is entirely possible to have one without the other, but it is not quite the same, especially so if youve become accustomed to these things, like a walk on a quiet beach or the love of a fantastic woman. 

And I feel terrible, she’s so happy now, she found herself in a way I had been stifling. Things I know would be different if we did happen, but she doesn’t. It hurts more knowing we could work,  and being fully aware that she wouldn’t want to try. I admire her stubbornness,  but its killing my hopes. I’m scared thats what I need.
So yeah, I love the girl, the girl might love me, but I dont know. Ive became a poorly written character….