There’s this drive which keeps pulling me towards her, nudging me to get closer, some intense longing which seems to split my throat apart and it keeps getting worse if I get closer or if we don’t and when we break up again and again my head just buzzes and it doesn’t ease. It’s all different kinds of pain and they only soothe and let me go when I let her take over me and then we both ease, I know the feeling, it’s that split second after an orgasm when the moans are still just fresh out of the mouth, the body catching up on the relief and just before you collapse, just like your body doesn’t register death straight away
it doesn’t register that we’re not together,
that I’m not with her and that I slap her away with my own boundaries which she has helped me build and dragged me away from once Jack had left.
I think the thing about love is that you can’t kill, passion is the poison or some fragile love which will crawl back and sting you but the thing is, it’s still dead,
it’s not the love which comes out when you see the person, it’s not the fear of seeing them which drowns you
it’s the fact that the tongue and mind will nag what the fuck is wrong with you
And it’s the guilt which I take from both sides. I don’t say anything to Kate smoking far too much as I try not to choose what to wear which ends up being ruffling the wardrobe far too much that Kate raises an eyebrow, walking past with Archie trailing behind.
Anxiety rinses me as I pretend to go nowhere with Kate and once she’s gone, close to meeting time with Alison, I grab the clothes, brush my teeth twice without thinking and the thought of kissing her seems to linger which is odd, considering how many times we’ve both done it, but once it’s forbidden it becomes sacred and tempt to be broken. Archie had been taken with Lila to her dad, as I would stare at myself in the mirror, oddly recalling how we had looked, how our smilies grazed our faces, how much we had yelled at each other sometimes out of pure spite for ourselves, knowing that our yells would be locked safe, maybe because we knew each other too well, whispering secrets before passing out on the same bed in motels was the thing which had kept us apart.
Eventually I hear the doorbell and Alison walks in with her heels against the floor and she keeps looking down as I don’t even say anything, knowing that we never even had a date before. I take out a box of cigarettes and she just nods, taking one, quickly lighting with her lighter as she walks outside and I don’t even offer her anything. Once I lock the door, she turns around maybe regretting not doing anything at the house and she just motions for me to get in the car. She strums her nails against the door, as I make my way.
She takes a scarf out of her coat pocket and I just blink as she ties my eyes up.
“Okay.” I just say, waiting for some explanation, but instead Alison just pushes me in. I feel her put a seatbelt on me as she stops and strokes my face. What should be amusing is perhaps how we both keep our silence and how I feel her look at me and I just raise my eyebrows only to realize that they are also covered, so I just remain silent as I feel her hover, her fingers stroking my cheek down to my jaw, as if she believes that the blindfold would stop me from everything.
Eventually Alison leaves me to go to the front seat, driving out and I actually wonder where are we heading and I can only recall places I always see whenever I drive or walk, the same newsagents with the promotions, the porn magazines on the top believing that all children are short, which seems ironic with my height since sometimes I feel like the whole world is taller than me and heels just seem to give me some brief confidence. I try to think of the things I’d see, the wee pubs, clubs and stores but eventually I just start zoning out and I wonder if I should sleep and I actually hesitate if I should be worried, but I’m not, instead I slip in deeper into the seat and let the dark state stroke me with confidence in a episodic lover.
"Is this supposed to be sexual?" I don’t smirk as Alison just puts the volume up. "Coz if it is why aren’t my hands tied?"
"That’s why it’s not sexual.""Everything is sexual." I don’t add between me and you as if I were on an interview covering my footsteps in the water.
I still keep my silence after that, my thoughts wondering and I actually question myself why don’t I pull the blindfold off and I wonder if we’re out of London already due to the time and I just hope that I’ll be back soon, maybe the knowledge of the fact that not all will be unknown seems soothing, that at some point in time, I will know what’s going to happen, I will know Kate’s eye colour, Lila’s games with Archie and the fact that I will be woken up in the middle of the night either by the dog or the desire to smoke and both me and Archie will be united in a mutual need as we’ll just stroll around to see something not a lot of people see, a locked up hazed London.
I don’t think that sexuality is fluid, it seems more of a switch as me and Alison would lay in bed, back before the first tour, in the small apartment, Alison’s hair growing and it had been when I think other people had known more about me, the jokes about me being gay far more matching than my own state as I had felt that I had started giving up on women, before Alison had stalked herself in my life and she had been everything opposite and the question of her gender identity seemed to intrigue me, even if she hadn’t properly addressed it herself, eyes closed and her wrist for me to stroke as I would watch her.
And then the stupidity for being attracted for something feminine comes in, looking when I am dragged out of the water I ask myself why do I sometimes become shallow, going either for something comically feminine to prove myself what?
The whole question and debate is only fueled by the fact that I am left alone with Alison steering the wheel and skipping through numerous songs and I wonder how many times had she checked on me, silently sitting.
I still wrap my arms around and I wonder if she’ll throw a water bottle at me soon.
There is something which pushes you away or maybe what you fear is something which you actually want to do, females seemed to be something I didn’t want to cling onto, yet Alison slipped in only to be followed by Kate who was always on all magazine with her blonde hair and innocent looks. I recall how I’d laugh saying how she was the most obvious choice for wanking material even if my mind was filled with a lot of different women sometimes, my sexuality being more of a switch, which had seemed to be broken.
I don’t know why humanity needs to be attached to a strict view, that the man has to be this specific view on masculinity and the female of femininity and the fact that I happened to snag someone who is on it’s cover, makes me question and the fact that Alison is single doesn’t make it better. But only when I get asked what do I like about Kate and my own silence gives me away, the fact that she only listens shows that if she stops, that when the reason fades so will she become erased in my life. Yet I cling. But the problem is if to break, it’s not like she’ll stop exist and I’ll be known as her ex in bitter conversations about how men are wrong and even Kate, the face of femininity is queer herself. And that solves the question of femininity
it lays under a queer rock which society closed its eyes upon. Even the question of reproduction is a question itself. Yet I’m still with femininity not showing much struggle in the eyes of society. I end up ceasing to cause struggle.
I think the fact that we go outside just shows how lonely we all are.
Our own fear shows our fear of rejection as I feel Alison actually stop, twist the keys and I am guessing she leans her head back as I feel myself still clinging onto the blanket of sleep and I wonder how many hours had passed. Or if an hour had passed at all. I wait for her as she closes the door and I still hold from pulling the scarf off my eyes as she opens the door and I feel the sea and I wonder where the fuck are we. Alison unties my scarf and I keep my eyes closed as she just is turned backwards, cigarette lit. I don’t realize that anxiety seems to be far more deeper within her, troubling her, tossing her around, giving her the silence which is upon my lips as well.
Maybe I had been harsh. I just walk up to her, we could be anywhere in England and I just get my own cigarette, as we both wait for something. I glance around as Alison just puts her hand on my arm and I turn around, both of us finally meeting each other’s eyes and that’s when we get called out. We both turn around and I see the odd castle-esque building as I keep shifting from watching the building and the blonde woman who approaches us. She shakes hands with Alison, smiling briefly and watches me. I apologize and introduce myself as she nods.
I don’t brush Alison’s arm away as the blonde woman takes out some papers and a pen. Alison signs without reading and I do the same, as the woman just keeps watching us both and how Alison’s grip intensifies, her cigarette hanging from her lips, she’s not even inhaling anymore and I pray that the blonde woman is not the devil. Alison only inhales when the woman says she’ll park the car and then I just follow Alison who had also been given a set of keys, who had broken the touch and started heading towards the castle. I have far too much fun as we go past the gates with the small cemetery and I don’t even register the dates, lighting a second cigarette and feeling uncomfortable with throwing the old plainly in the castle’s territory.
Once we get in and Alison locks the door, I wonder how much she knows and our thoughts linger before we can even look at the interior, before I question everything in my mind, the walls seem to give an illusion I believe to both of us that it’s ok to make out, instead Alison just takes her jacket off and offers to take my own.
She just stands there and I recall how it had been before our first concert, how I had grabbed her, the idea of giving a bigger shock to numb the stage one was to kiss her twice, briefly when we had barely done anything, it had lasted longer indeed than it does now, but the shock had worked and it’s odd when you strip the other people of age and I still see her, hair much shorter, less make up and clumsier, younger, frightened yet ready to pull on the sweater of confidence which she had always done.
I just pull her briefly towards me and pat her on the back, an action she dislikes, so she just groans and pushes me away, a small smile still on her lips as we actually start looking around. For the insides it’s quite modern and had been refurbished and I wonder if there actually are any ghosts, but I don’t ask anything, both of us meeting each other’s eyes from while to while, not kicking off our shoes yet, making our heels more than audible.
I dunno I really missed writing The Kills and I haven't really written a multi-chaptered story which I guess I want to keep updating frequently (but please feel free to poke me about the rest, they're just there coz I'm scared what if people don't want them xD like I'm itching to write the next chapter of Close xD anyway, I suck xD) so yeah.
I don't think I've openly written Jamie as queer in my head and Alison as well, I guess I even write them quite queer, I always have but I just wanted to do it more this time, really. I've been musing a lot on them as usual really and yeah xD there's pretty much evidence all over of Jamie's queerness (I can't really go saying bisexual or pansexual as I'm not aware and yeah) and even then but eh, I'll just silently sit here saying that I can cover up myself with fanfiction, but fuck, let's be honest xD
It's all a lie if you say that your life doesn't influence your writing, it just seeps through you, really. I dunno I had this whole fuck this, they're all wankers who go for shallow women and etc, for the whole femininity, well, I don't think I'm different and I guess there are those things which nag to you, I guess that's where I got the Kate criticism because frankly if I were to be attracted heavily to women they were very queer, more closer to what you'd say a lesbian stereotype I guess, so that was odd and yeah, I guess that's where the parallel comes from, you just get attracted to something you're not and even on my most feminine days, I'm not really feminine at least not a lot so yeah, of course you tend to cling to something opposite to wish that it resembles you, when it never will. So I have no idea, as much as I love Kate Moss which I do, I don't get her and Jamie at all and I guess sometimes you just find resemblance between you and someone else, so yeah, I'm like jesus Jamie I get you, femininity is all lovely, but stop xD but his choice, I'm just here to sulk and do weird hand motions of what I want him and Alison to do.
The fact that they've known each other, you just look really at a person, like I look at Callie and I just sometimes grin recalling how she had looked years ago and yeah, I guess I pretty much took that into the story.
I had trouble wondering where the fuck can Alison actually drag Jamie onto the date and I had a bunch of odd ideas but nothing seemed appealing enough and I kept thinking, musing and the idea that Alison could drive them off somewhere was the first milestone to this idea, which is still not properly described and I am quite anxious because I don't really have super humorous stories (well, yeah, I'm doing satire in Saints Preserve Us but xD)
Also I wrote the sexual bit while I was on the street, just musing around, I write a lot on my iPhone on the street as now that I live in a new apartment the train rides are shorter and my brain doesn't actually turn off and I've written a lot, I think half a chapter of something was written like that xD
The switch is me cheating, because that's how it kind of happens with me roughly, being genderfluid I am literally when male attracted to other males and when female attracted to other females so yeah. It's quite… yeah, like a switch. It's odd and nice, it's comforting to know or rather feel that I am not repressing my male side which I've always had and wished to be, really. I guess an odd fact is that nearly all of my stories even in my biggest suppressing moments was the fact that I'd still write feeling male, I'd just let it out because I wrote from a male's point of view so often and I hated and sometimes still do because I enjoy writing more male, dunno, I guess I'm a wanker sometimes xD I just like my male side writing and in general it's odd, I dunno where or how my fluidity goes because it changes so often yet some actions are stuck to male or female like writing is mostly male. I guess while art is female for instance, well sometimes, I don't know xD It's odd and yeah, it's nice to be myself, anyway onto the other Jamie xD
I was struggling because I don't like doing OCs actually (I think the only one would be Arabella in You're Not Coming Back Again which I enjoy from my own and I've used knowingly xD) and pretty much the woman was a toned down version of Marina Diamandis so yeah xD
Patting on the back is something I always disliked which I guess a lot of guys would always do to me and I'd be like jesus, give me a fucking hug and stop with your concerns. xD
I hope you enjoyed it and please tell me if you did and if you want onwards as I quite enjoy this and I've planned torture for both of them xD I promise it's funny (to me at least xD) XD