I've discovered the difference between love and sex. Not such a big breakthrough perhaps. There is this guy that I know. To say we're dating would be stretching the truth cause he's not reliable enough to actually go through with a date. He wants me. If I did him (for me) it would just be plain sex, no emotional involvement. I don't love him or anything, but we have brilliant chemistry. That's why I can't do it with him though. As a woman, I need that emotional bond before I can jump into bed with a guy. Doing it with love feels so much better. I don't know how much sense this makes, but it feels good to put pen to paper (so to speak) with it. This guy is someone I have had a relationship with in the past. He still wants me, I guess.
I feel disconnected from people. I don't let anyone into my head very often. It's a defensive tactic to prevent myself getting hurt. I try not to share with my parents if I can help it. Mum's feedback about anything always tends to feel like criticism. Now I can take criticism, but not all the time over everything. I also feel like she treats me like I'm stupid. Outside my family I have little contact with anyone. I find myself avoiding conversation with other mums and dads at school if I can help it because the idea of talking with them scares me.I would have to think of things to say, whilst trying to not appear rude and do the normal things people do when they converse. I don't know what's up with me. Strangely I feel closest to Jon (my ex) He is still my best friend in many ways. I know I love him (and he always claims to love me) but I am doubtful we can have a proper relationship. I can't/don't want to have sex with him anymore and he does with me. It is a very important part of a relationship for him. He could not be with me again if that was not part of the relationship. (I know this cause we have talked about it in the past and he said as much.
What hope is there for me? Stuck with my sons at my parents house and no man to love completely. I'm not one of those women who need a man to make her feel complete. But I crave that social norm. To be settled down in a nice house with a nice man and with children (I already have those but would also like more) and just being happy with everything. I should be happy with what I've got and I am, but it's not enough. I don't want this life. I want to live in the USA and to be an american and to be married to an American guy. THAT is my hope deep down, what I want out of life. But I don't have a chance in hell of that really. I don't know what my obsession with the united states is about, but it's always there. Perhaps I was an american in a past life or something and the memories of that are so joyful or whatever that they have been imprinted on my soul and the love for that country has been carried over into this life. Who knows? Maybe god does.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Christmas is coming...........
Hey there. I have not kept my blog for a while, just been busy with everything else. Still at my parents house. Am in gold band on the housing list but generally come second or third for the properties that I'm interested in and of course the people ahead of me take them. Sometimes I wish life was simpler.
I don't really have any money and it's all my own fault, but I don't want to go into that. It'll be okay.
I'm still wierd when it comes to talking to people. The other day my sister came over with her boyfriend. He's lovely and always great with my sons. But I failed miserably when he said hello to me. I smiled and nothing more. He probably didn't even see me smile. Then I felt embarrassed because he'd think I'm rude or ignoring him. I didn't know how to deal with the situation after that. He's my sister's bloke and a nice guy and I don't want him to think I'm strange or don't like him. I am terrible like that regularly. I fail to even manage a normal greeting or don't get into conversation or anything with him.
I wonder what the point of life is. I think I'm getting depressed. I don't want that to happen! Maybe it's just the time of year. Many people get depressed at christmas. I am estranged from life right now.
I have tried to begin a new story but I feel a bit lost with it. I think that reflects my mindset at the moment, a bit lost. Writing is easy and the thing I love doing most in the world. But it's also hard. Anyone can invent a story, but only some can invent a GOOD story. So far what I've written sounds kind of promising. But it's aimless. My last project had an idea at the heart of it and that idea was the momentum that kept it going. This one is just a vague beginning and so far it lacks the driving idea to push it along. I just started it because I feel the need to create (kind of like vampires feel the need to drink blood)
I still hate my parents. (So what else is new?) I think I hate them because my biggest fear is turning into a bastard like my father. But it's no doubt in the blood. I will be just as he is. Also the influence he has on my sons will one day (maybe) turn them into bastards like him too. I don't want that to happen either. But whatever will be will be. I try not to worry about what I can't change, but it's in my nature.
I dream about my future. Sometimes I wonder if the future is set or if it changes with people minds. If something is decided and then someone changes their mind, that decided thing is wrong. But perhaps the person was always ment to change their mind, so the first future was never going to be true. Make any sense at all? Anyway, I know I dream of my future because periodically I have a vague sense of deja vu. The cause is a dream I had ages ago. It happens every now and then and I've kinda got used to it now. Something really bizarre for you right.
When my parents first moved into their current house I noticed how there is a small cupboard under the stairs. I have what I think is a genuine memory of me and one of my younger sisters playing in a cupboard just like this one at the house where we grew up. I said to mum about this. Do you remember there was a cupboard like this at our old house and me and my sister used to lovee to play in it, but we weren't allowed? She replied that there was never such a cupboard and she has no such memory. At the time of this my two sons were babies. You know what? My boys are now 5 and 7 years old and they love to play in that cupboard, but my parents say they aren't allowed. I think either my mum's memory is faulty or I had a future memory belonging to my sons. (Or maybe one of them rather than a joint memory)
My love life is non existent also. I have been in touch (or he's been in touch with me) with a guy I used to date. The sexual chemistry is still there, yet I feel nothing else for him. I don't if our relationship can actually go anywhere. I also still love my ex (father of my kids ex) But I can't make love to him anymore. Not since he raped me (years ago) At least that's where I put the blame, seems resonable. I like him and like his company, as long as there is no danger of us getting intimate. And that's no way to have a relationship. I enjoy sex when my heart's in it. I need it too. But I'm just such a (I've forgotten the word that mean what I'm trying to say! Fuck!)
And christmas. Mmm. Not prepared yet. Still need to shop. Don't want to cause it's so freezing cold and cause I'm broke.
I don't really have any money and it's all my own fault, but I don't want to go into that. It'll be okay.
I'm still wierd when it comes to talking to people. The other day my sister came over with her boyfriend. He's lovely and always great with my sons. But I failed miserably when he said hello to me. I smiled and nothing more. He probably didn't even see me smile. Then I felt embarrassed because he'd think I'm rude or ignoring him. I didn't know how to deal with the situation after that. He's my sister's bloke and a nice guy and I don't want him to think I'm strange or don't like him. I am terrible like that regularly. I fail to even manage a normal greeting or don't get into conversation or anything with him.
I wonder what the point of life is. I think I'm getting depressed. I don't want that to happen! Maybe it's just the time of year. Many people get depressed at christmas. I am estranged from life right now.
I have tried to begin a new story but I feel a bit lost with it. I think that reflects my mindset at the moment, a bit lost. Writing is easy and the thing I love doing most in the world. But it's also hard. Anyone can invent a story, but only some can invent a GOOD story. So far what I've written sounds kind of promising. But it's aimless. My last project had an idea at the heart of it and that idea was the momentum that kept it going. This one is just a vague beginning and so far it lacks the driving idea to push it along. I just started it because I feel the need to create (kind of like vampires feel the need to drink blood)
I still hate my parents. (So what else is new?) I think I hate them because my biggest fear is turning into a bastard like my father. But it's no doubt in the blood. I will be just as he is. Also the influence he has on my sons will one day (maybe) turn them into bastards like him too. I don't want that to happen either. But whatever will be will be. I try not to worry about what I can't change, but it's in my nature.
I dream about my future. Sometimes I wonder if the future is set or if it changes with people minds. If something is decided and then someone changes their mind, that decided thing is wrong. But perhaps the person was always ment to change their mind, so the first future was never going to be true. Make any sense at all? Anyway, I know I dream of my future because periodically I have a vague sense of deja vu. The cause is a dream I had ages ago. It happens every now and then and I've kinda got used to it now. Something really bizarre for you right.
When my parents first moved into their current house I noticed how there is a small cupboard under the stairs. I have what I think is a genuine memory of me and one of my younger sisters playing in a cupboard just like this one at the house where we grew up. I said to mum about this. Do you remember there was a cupboard like this at our old house and me and my sister used to lovee to play in it, but we weren't allowed? She replied that there was never such a cupboard and she has no such memory. At the time of this my two sons were babies. You know what? My boys are now 5 and 7 years old and they love to play in that cupboard, but my parents say they aren't allowed. I think either my mum's memory is faulty or I had a future memory belonging to my sons. (Or maybe one of them rather than a joint memory)
My love life is non existent also. I have been in touch (or he's been in touch with me) with a guy I used to date. The sexual chemistry is still there, yet I feel nothing else for him. I don't if our relationship can actually go anywhere. I also still love my ex (father of my kids ex) But I can't make love to him anymore. Not since he raped me (years ago) At least that's where I put the blame, seems resonable. I like him and like his company, as long as there is no danger of us getting intimate. And that's no way to have a relationship. I enjoy sex when my heart's in it. I need it too. But I'm just such a (I've forgotten the word that mean what I'm trying to say! Fuck!)
And christmas. Mmm. Not prepared yet. Still need to shop. Don't want to cause it's so freezing cold and cause I'm broke.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Do I have to give it a title?
Anon: Whatever! Talk to the hand, baby. I ain't listening no more!
So, I have a viewing for a council house on Wednesday. I am third in line for it. If it's good and neither of the other two have taken it it might look good. My dad is pissed about it though. Last time we talked about that kind of thing I said I'd tell them (I can't remember what exactly). I forgot to. My mind is in such a muddle. Maybe I ought to be blonde! You know? Sometimes it's that bad. (I am a natural brunette)
But he's got me worrying. Things should not be this way! I should be living with my sons like normal people do and we should be doing great. Instead we are living with my parents. Maybe anyone else would be happy with things as they are, but I'm not. My parents have taken upon themselves maybe 50% of the parenting responsibility of my kids. We have got used to the way things are now and cause it's my parents I don't know how to get it back. They verbally beat me down as a kid. I am a lesser person than them and their opinions should not be taken lightly. I don't want to screw my kids lives up, but sometimes worry that I am doing just that. I was miserable all my teen years due to cohabiting with my parents. I sank into deep depression. I moved on to have an average relationship with my boys father and came back to my parents when things didn't work out with him. I did it cause that is what I needed at that time, but I quickly begun to regret it. I soon remembered how miserable living with them had been for me. I hate it that I have dragged my kids into the same home. I don't know how to deal with any of this stuff!
Four years later we're still here. My dad tried to make me feel bad by talking like we are going to die, rather than move a few streets away! It will be a great shock for my parents and feel like when their dog died, aparently. They might even move into a small house if it's just the two of them. On the one hand I don't care. On the other it has me insecure. What if I can't cope with my sons on our own? When they misbehave they don't listen to me because my parents are more severe with them. Therefore have gained a certain amount of compliance through fear. I don't agree with that. What if I can't cope financially? What if our life turns to hell? Dad thinks my boys will be upset at being seperated from them. We've been here for years now. But it should never have got to this stage in the first place! That we are so dependant on my folks. I am I just being very independant minded or just stubourn and stupid? I am still depressed to a certain degree. Stopped taking my meds a couple of months ago cause I don't like being dependant on drugs and I hate how anti d's make you feel. I can feel the depression kicking in again this week though. Funnily enough only after my dad has spoken with me. I'm insecure. Too insecure and unconfident. I often (back in my teens) used to wish I'd died when I got hit by that car. And somedays I find those thoughts creeping back in. Even though I have kids now. At the time of the accident I survived due to the willpower to live. I wanted to live to have kids one day. Now I sometimes wonder if they would have been better off not being born to me. Am I just screwing them up? My biggest insecurities are about motherhood. I'm sure any parent could relate to that. I don't mean to sound selfish if that's how some of this comes across. My kids are brilliant and I love them dearly. I wish for them to grow up into good, well balanced, secure young men. I don't ever want them to feel messed up and unsure like I do. Especially due to anything I have done, or not done.
I don't know if I've mentioned being hit by a car anywhere on my blog previously. It happened when I was 13 years old and I can't remember a thing about it. I was waiting for the school bus wearing my new black cardigan because I loved it so much. I have put together a picture of what happened from what other people said. (I asked about it, cause I needed to know) The bus came and we all got on. Now the driver was friendly with some kids who always sat up front (I wasn't one of them). That morning one of these kids was not present and she lived just across the road from where the bus picked us up. He asked if someone would go and knock on her door. (She could have just been late) They said no. (The guilt they must have felt afterwards!) It fell to me and being the good natured soul I am I said I'd go. I think I checked behind the bus first cause I'd do that before trying to cross. A car coming from behind the bus ran me down as I crossed and it didn't even stop at the scene. I think it was red (I don't know where that came from but it's what I have in my mind right at this moment, that the car was red) I got glass in my face around my eye from the windscreen and a fucking great lump on my right thigh (where the impact was) I think I was told later that I got thrown completely over the car. It happened on a Friday morning and I was comatose all weekend. I have a vague recollection of a moment in the ambulance where the paramedic asked me to tell him where it hurt. I replied all over (or maybe 'everywhere' I'm not sure) He asked me to be more specific and I said my shoulder hurt. I was distressed cause he had to cut off my clothes. (My new cardigan! I was most upset that it got cut up) I'd just got run over and I was more worried about my clothes! I know. Remember I was only 13. My legs were incredibly weak for a long time after I came home from hospital. I'm fine now though. No lasting damage really. Unless you count the bang on the head. I was not checked for brain damage according to my mum because 'I came back to them as the same person I had been before' It could have messed up my brain a little and nobody would have a clue. I'd rather have been assessed for damage thanks!
I'm just insecure and unconfidant and wonder what the point of being here is. I ought to go back to the doctor and have a chat really. He doesn't know I've stopped taking the medication. He does know I don't like taking it though. I just wish there was a better way! I'm depressed. Oh here take these pills! It doesn't help! It makes me feel tired and drowsy all the time and well, like I'm drugged. Funny how that works.
Anyway it's Monday night at Flash Forward is about to start. Gotta go!
x
So, I have a viewing for a council house on Wednesday. I am third in line for it. If it's good and neither of the other two have taken it it might look good. My dad is pissed about it though. Last time we talked about that kind of thing I said I'd tell them (I can't remember what exactly). I forgot to. My mind is in such a muddle. Maybe I ought to be blonde! You know? Sometimes it's that bad. (I am a natural brunette)
But he's got me worrying. Things should not be this way! I should be living with my sons like normal people do and we should be doing great. Instead we are living with my parents. Maybe anyone else would be happy with things as they are, but I'm not. My parents have taken upon themselves maybe 50% of the parenting responsibility of my kids. We have got used to the way things are now and cause it's my parents I don't know how to get it back. They verbally beat me down as a kid. I am a lesser person than them and their opinions should not be taken lightly. I don't want to screw my kids lives up, but sometimes worry that I am doing just that. I was miserable all my teen years due to cohabiting with my parents. I sank into deep depression. I moved on to have an average relationship with my boys father and came back to my parents when things didn't work out with him. I did it cause that is what I needed at that time, but I quickly begun to regret it. I soon remembered how miserable living with them had been for me. I hate it that I have dragged my kids into the same home. I don't know how to deal with any of this stuff!
Four years later we're still here. My dad tried to make me feel bad by talking like we are going to die, rather than move a few streets away! It will be a great shock for my parents and feel like when their dog died, aparently. They might even move into a small house if it's just the two of them. On the one hand I don't care. On the other it has me insecure. What if I can't cope with my sons on our own? When they misbehave they don't listen to me because my parents are more severe with them. Therefore have gained a certain amount of compliance through fear. I don't agree with that. What if I can't cope financially? What if our life turns to hell? Dad thinks my boys will be upset at being seperated from them. We've been here for years now. But it should never have got to this stage in the first place! That we are so dependant on my folks. I am I just being very independant minded or just stubourn and stupid? I am still depressed to a certain degree. Stopped taking my meds a couple of months ago cause I don't like being dependant on drugs and I hate how anti d's make you feel. I can feel the depression kicking in again this week though. Funnily enough only after my dad has spoken with me. I'm insecure. Too insecure and unconfident. I often (back in my teens) used to wish I'd died when I got hit by that car. And somedays I find those thoughts creeping back in. Even though I have kids now. At the time of the accident I survived due to the willpower to live. I wanted to live to have kids one day. Now I sometimes wonder if they would have been better off not being born to me. Am I just screwing them up? My biggest insecurities are about motherhood. I'm sure any parent could relate to that. I don't mean to sound selfish if that's how some of this comes across. My kids are brilliant and I love them dearly. I wish for them to grow up into good, well balanced, secure young men. I don't ever want them to feel messed up and unsure like I do. Especially due to anything I have done, or not done.
I don't know if I've mentioned being hit by a car anywhere on my blog previously. It happened when I was 13 years old and I can't remember a thing about it. I was waiting for the school bus wearing my new black cardigan because I loved it so much. I have put together a picture of what happened from what other people said. (I asked about it, cause I needed to know) The bus came and we all got on. Now the driver was friendly with some kids who always sat up front (I wasn't one of them). That morning one of these kids was not present and she lived just across the road from where the bus picked us up. He asked if someone would go and knock on her door. (She could have just been late) They said no. (The guilt they must have felt afterwards!) It fell to me and being the good natured soul I am I said I'd go. I think I checked behind the bus first cause I'd do that before trying to cross. A car coming from behind the bus ran me down as I crossed and it didn't even stop at the scene. I think it was red (I don't know where that came from but it's what I have in my mind right at this moment, that the car was red) I got glass in my face around my eye from the windscreen and a fucking great lump on my right thigh (where the impact was) I think I was told later that I got thrown completely over the car. It happened on a Friday morning and I was comatose all weekend. I have a vague recollection of a moment in the ambulance where the paramedic asked me to tell him where it hurt. I replied all over (or maybe 'everywhere' I'm not sure) He asked me to be more specific and I said my shoulder hurt. I was distressed cause he had to cut off my clothes. (My new cardigan! I was most upset that it got cut up) I'd just got run over and I was more worried about my clothes! I know. Remember I was only 13. My legs were incredibly weak for a long time after I came home from hospital. I'm fine now though. No lasting damage really. Unless you count the bang on the head. I was not checked for brain damage according to my mum because 'I came back to them as the same person I had been before' It could have messed up my brain a little and nobody would have a clue. I'd rather have been assessed for damage thanks!
I'm just insecure and unconfidant and wonder what the point of being here is. I ought to go back to the doctor and have a chat really. He doesn't know I've stopped taking the medication. He does know I don't like taking it though. I just wish there was a better way! I'm depressed. Oh here take these pills! It doesn't help! It makes me feel tired and drowsy all the time and well, like I'm drugged. Funny how that works.
Anyway it's Monday night at Flash Forward is about to start. Gotta go!
x
Thursday, October 08, 2009
Annonymous
That's a nice way to hide who you really are, isn't it. I have no idea who you are. You could even be Phil himself! Or one of his buddies! For your information right, I didn't say I didn't want things to work out with between Phil and Lindsay. I only expressed a desire for him. He seems like a nice average guy and I wish him the best with everything.
Also I have not cheated on my ex thank you! I have had a profile on Sunsingles for ages, whatever it says on there. That does not equal a desire to cheat. Do you know me? Do you know anything about me? No! So shut the fuck up! I have NEVER cheated on a guy and I would not do that. I had a one night stand when I was single and I have had another relationship, again when I was single. Add that to my relationship with my ex that equals the sum total of my (sexual) relationships. That makes me not a slut, douchebag! You are not really worth the time and energy I have spent justifying myself to you, but I have nothing better to do right at this minute. And you will probably never even read this anyway. Did you say you googled me? I've never googled myself. Perhaps I should, I'm curious now. I have nothing to hide and am not as terrible a woman as you make me out to be/think I am.
I'd love to know who you are cause I'm curious now. If you ever see this post, please let me know annonymous. Peace, k.
x
Also I have not cheated on my ex thank you! I have had a profile on Sunsingles for ages, whatever it says on there. That does not equal a desire to cheat. Do you know me? Do you know anything about me? No! So shut the fuck up! I have NEVER cheated on a guy and I would not do that. I had a one night stand when I was single and I have had another relationship, again when I was single. Add that to my relationship with my ex that equals the sum total of my (sexual) relationships. That makes me not a slut, douchebag! You are not really worth the time and energy I have spent justifying myself to you, but I have nothing better to do right at this minute. And you will probably never even read this anyway. Did you say you googled me? I've never googled myself. Perhaps I should, I'm curious now. I have nothing to hide and am not as terrible a woman as you make me out to be/think I am.
I'd love to know who you are cause I'm curious now. If you ever see this post, please let me know annonymous. Peace, k.
x
Sunday, October 04, 2009
Philip DeFranco
In case you are not familiar with this man he does internet blogs and stuff on youtube and his own website and he's kinda famous.
Here is a link to is youtube profile page:
http://www.youtube.com/user/sxephil
He has a girlfriend and lives in a whole different country to me, but I don't care. I love this man. He's brilliant. Not only that but I want to fuck him. Is that messed up?
I hope not. Anyway, I don't want to spend ages going on about how cool I think he is cause that would make me wierd.
In other news me and my not ex have broken up again cause we have not been able to see each other for weeks. Maybe that's for the best maybe not. Who knows. He initiated it, even though he's still crazy about me. The main reason I tried to get back with him this time was because he got with a new girlfriend and I heard bad stuff about her, so took a dislike to her. I didn't want to see him with a woman like that. That's not as bitchy as it sounds. I have his kids I think I have a say in who he goes out with. Alright I don't, it's none of my business. They are still buddies and she wants to get back with him, so it might happen anyway. Bummer!
I don't know what else to say really. And nobody even cares what I have to say.
Here is a link to is youtube profile page:
http://www.youtube.com/user/sxephil
He has a girlfriend and lives in a whole different country to me, but I don't care. I love this man. He's brilliant. Not only that but I want to fuck him. Is that messed up?
I hope not. Anyway, I don't want to spend ages going on about how cool I think he is cause that would make me wierd.
In other news me and my not ex have broken up again cause we have not been able to see each other for weeks. Maybe that's for the best maybe not. Who knows. He initiated it, even though he's still crazy about me. The main reason I tried to get back with him this time was because he got with a new girlfriend and I heard bad stuff about her, so took a dislike to her. I didn't want to see him with a woman like that. That's not as bitchy as it sounds. I have his kids I think I have a say in who he goes out with. Alright I don't, it's none of my business. They are still buddies and she wants to get back with him, so it might happen anyway. Bummer!
I don't know what else to say really. And nobody even cares what I have to say.
Saturday, September 05, 2009
A short story
Chris may be drunk but she sure knows what she wants.
Mark can still feel her kiss fresh on his lips as he pushes her off again.
"I don't think this is a good idea." He tells her.
"But I really fancy you." She insists, flopping down on the bed beside him.
He's not sure if she lay down on purpose or if she fell in a drunken slump. He only came in here to get a breath or fresh air! No good stepping outside, all the smokers are camped out on the doorstep. Yuck!
The music beat thumps through the walls, from the party downstairs.
Chris pulls him down and kisses him again.
He kisses her back. Her soft lips feel nice. Her long blonde hair sprawls beautifully across the pillow.
Mark sits up again.
"Come back!" She protests, with a laugh.
Its not that he doesn't fancy her, it's just that she is drunk! He's not exactly sober himself though. Looking down on her pretty face he smiles.
"You're drunk, baby." He tells her.
"Yeah, I know." Chris grins.
Then she pulls off her tight silver top, ripping it in the process.
"Oops!" She giggles.
She isn't wearing a bra.
He stares at her breasts, not sure if he should feel embarrassed about this. Chris is good mate. They've known each other for years, but it's never been romantic or intimate like this.
She pulls him in for a kiss again and pushes his hand onto her breast.
Mark fondles her, feeling her nipple react to his touch.
"How many drinks have you had?" He asks.
"Don't remember." She says.
That equals a lot, he rekons.
He kisses her, enjoying feeling her soft skin under his hand.
Chris is a fit girl. Her breasts are his favourite part, he's a tit man. He remembers dancing with her earlier. He didn't really have sexual feelings for her at the time, but she looks hot when she dances. She pressed against him too, probably thinking nothing of it.
She slips her tongue in his mouth.
He can feel her nipple is quite hard now and touches the other one.
"Mark." She says, sitting up. "Will you sit up against the headboard for me"
"Sure." He responds, getting into position. "Why?"
She kisses him, smiling and starts to unfasten his flies.
It dawns on him what she is doing, when she puts her head in his crotch.
He is a little bit hard already. When her lips make contact with his cock it feels divine.
Her warm, moist lips slide up and down his growing hard on and her tongue also touches him.
"Mmm!" He moans.
After a couple of minutes of this he feels really turned on and wants to fuck her, badly. They may be mates, but when she starts doing that it's clear she wants more. The booze may also have something to do with it, but he doesn't care right now.
"Chris, honey!" He gasps, putting a finger under her chin and tilting upwards.
She looks up at him, smiling.
"You are beautiful." Mark tells her and kisses her.
She sits up and wraps her arms round him.
Then he kisses her hard nipples, teasing them with his tongue.
This causes her to gasp and moan.
Chris lays back on the bed and spreads her legs.
"I want you, Mark." She tells him.
She has a short, tight skirt on and is not wearing any knickers.
He straddles her and she grabs hold of his hard cock, finding her entrance.
"What about a condom?" Mark says, feeling her moist warmth round the end of his cock.
"What about it?" She replies, bucking towards him.
There he was thinking all girls were into using condoms. She's either too drunk or too aroused to care. The hot warmth of her insides are too much to resist anyway.
Mark enters her and she is pretty wet.
"Mark!" She gasps with pleasure.
She's quite vocal about her enjoyment.
"Oh Chris!" He gasps, on the verge of an orgasm.
The second he feels the orgasm begin to pulsate through him, she passes out cold.
"Oh god!" Marks exclaims, gritting his teeth. "Chris?"
When he's finished he pulls out and lays beside her, trying to get his breath back.
This is not good. He thinks, looking at his unconcious friend.
He feels so tired now. He manages to turn her round so she is lying in bed properly and covers her up. Then he lays beside her on top of the covers and passes out himself.
He wakes up, feeling a terrible thumping in his head and feeling a bit sick.
Mark opens his eyes and tries to remember where he is, cause this is not his own bedroom. In fact he's not at home.
Sitting up he sees he is alone in the bedroom and the door is wide open.
What's he doing here again?
He goes downstairs and sees the reminants of a party. There are a few people passed out sleeping all over the house.
"Morning." Mumbles Lucas, in the process of pouring a cup of coffee.
"Do you mind if I have a cup of coffee, mate?" He asks, remembering this is Lucas' house.
"Sure, go for it." Lucas replies, stepping aside with his own cup.
"I feel like my heads been flattened by a steam roller!" Mark groans.
"Yeah, me too mate!" Lucas groans. "You got on really well with Chrissy last night then!"
"Huh?" Mark questions.
"You went upstairs with her, remember?"
"Not really." Mark frowns, trying to recall anything after drinking and dancing down here. "You seen her this morning?"
"No. She not upstairs?"
"Nah, she's gone mate! Woke up alone."
"That bad was it?" Smiles Lucas.
Mark can remember kissing Chris, but it's all a bit fuzzy.
He takes a sip of the burning hot cup of coffee he's just made himself.
"I hate hangovers!" Mark moans.
After finishing his cuppa, Mark heads home. While he's walking there he gets out his mobile and texts Chrissy. "Great party last night! Got the hangover from hell now. You okay?"
She sends no reply, which is unusual. She normally pings back straight away.
When he gets to his house the police are waiting for him.
He stares at the two uniformed police officers standing at his front door.
"Mark Bradley?" Questions one of the officers.
"Yes. What can I do for you?" He responds, fear biting at his insides.
"You're under arrest for the rape of Christine Michaels." The same officer says, getting out his handcuffs. "You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defense if you do not mention, when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?"
I could continue with this, but I said it would be a short story. So I won't.
Mark can still feel her kiss fresh on his lips as he pushes her off again.
"I don't think this is a good idea." He tells her.
"But I really fancy you." She insists, flopping down on the bed beside him.
He's not sure if she lay down on purpose or if she fell in a drunken slump. He only came in here to get a breath or fresh air! No good stepping outside, all the smokers are camped out on the doorstep. Yuck!
The music beat thumps through the walls, from the party downstairs.
Chris pulls him down and kisses him again.
He kisses her back. Her soft lips feel nice. Her long blonde hair sprawls beautifully across the pillow.
Mark sits up again.
"Come back!" She protests, with a laugh.
Its not that he doesn't fancy her, it's just that she is drunk! He's not exactly sober himself though. Looking down on her pretty face he smiles.
"You're drunk, baby." He tells her.
"Yeah, I know." Chris grins.
Then she pulls off her tight silver top, ripping it in the process.
"Oops!" She giggles.
She isn't wearing a bra.
He stares at her breasts, not sure if he should feel embarrassed about this. Chris is good mate. They've known each other for years, but it's never been romantic or intimate like this.
She pulls him in for a kiss again and pushes his hand onto her breast.
Mark fondles her, feeling her nipple react to his touch.
"How many drinks have you had?" He asks.
"Don't remember." She says.
That equals a lot, he rekons.
He kisses her, enjoying feeling her soft skin under his hand.
Chris is a fit girl. Her breasts are his favourite part, he's a tit man. He remembers dancing with her earlier. He didn't really have sexual feelings for her at the time, but she looks hot when she dances. She pressed against him too, probably thinking nothing of it.
She slips her tongue in his mouth.
He can feel her nipple is quite hard now and touches the other one.
"Mark." She says, sitting up. "Will you sit up against the headboard for me"
"Sure." He responds, getting into position. "Why?"
She kisses him, smiling and starts to unfasten his flies.
It dawns on him what she is doing, when she puts her head in his crotch.
He is a little bit hard already. When her lips make contact with his cock it feels divine.
Her warm, moist lips slide up and down his growing hard on and her tongue also touches him.
"Mmm!" He moans.
After a couple of minutes of this he feels really turned on and wants to fuck her, badly. They may be mates, but when she starts doing that it's clear she wants more. The booze may also have something to do with it, but he doesn't care right now.
"Chris, honey!" He gasps, putting a finger under her chin and tilting upwards.
She looks up at him, smiling.
"You are beautiful." Mark tells her and kisses her.
She sits up and wraps her arms round him.
Then he kisses her hard nipples, teasing them with his tongue.
This causes her to gasp and moan.
Chris lays back on the bed and spreads her legs.
"I want you, Mark." She tells him.
She has a short, tight skirt on and is not wearing any knickers.
He straddles her and she grabs hold of his hard cock, finding her entrance.
"What about a condom?" Mark says, feeling her moist warmth round the end of his cock.
"What about it?" She replies, bucking towards him.
There he was thinking all girls were into using condoms. She's either too drunk or too aroused to care. The hot warmth of her insides are too much to resist anyway.
Mark enters her and she is pretty wet.
"Mark!" She gasps with pleasure.
She's quite vocal about her enjoyment.
"Oh Chris!" He gasps, on the verge of an orgasm.
The second he feels the orgasm begin to pulsate through him, she passes out cold.
"Oh god!" Marks exclaims, gritting his teeth. "Chris?"
When he's finished he pulls out and lays beside her, trying to get his breath back.
This is not good. He thinks, looking at his unconcious friend.
He feels so tired now. He manages to turn her round so she is lying in bed properly and covers her up. Then he lays beside her on top of the covers and passes out himself.
He wakes up, feeling a terrible thumping in his head and feeling a bit sick.
Mark opens his eyes and tries to remember where he is, cause this is not his own bedroom. In fact he's not at home.
Sitting up he sees he is alone in the bedroom and the door is wide open.
What's he doing here again?
He goes downstairs and sees the reminants of a party. There are a few people passed out sleeping all over the house.
"Morning." Mumbles Lucas, in the process of pouring a cup of coffee.
"Do you mind if I have a cup of coffee, mate?" He asks, remembering this is Lucas' house.
"Sure, go for it." Lucas replies, stepping aside with his own cup.
"I feel like my heads been flattened by a steam roller!" Mark groans.
"Yeah, me too mate!" Lucas groans. "You got on really well with Chrissy last night then!"
"Huh?" Mark questions.
"You went upstairs with her, remember?"
"Not really." Mark frowns, trying to recall anything after drinking and dancing down here. "You seen her this morning?"
"No. She not upstairs?"
"Nah, she's gone mate! Woke up alone."
"That bad was it?" Smiles Lucas.
Mark can remember kissing Chris, but it's all a bit fuzzy.
He takes a sip of the burning hot cup of coffee he's just made himself.
"I hate hangovers!" Mark moans.
After finishing his cuppa, Mark heads home. While he's walking there he gets out his mobile and texts Chrissy. "Great party last night! Got the hangover from hell now. You okay?"
She sends no reply, which is unusual. She normally pings back straight away.
When he gets to his house the police are waiting for him.
He stares at the two uniformed police officers standing at his front door.
"Mark Bradley?" Questions one of the officers.
"Yes. What can I do for you?" He responds, fear biting at his insides.
"You're under arrest for the rape of Christine Michaels." The same officer says, getting out his handcuffs. "You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defense if you do not mention, when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?"
I could continue with this, but I said it would be a short story. So I won't.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Do you know this man?
There was once a man
His eyes were brown
His hair was curly and black
His moves were unique
He bought joy to the world
Everyone knows this guy's name
When you hear the beat and see him dance
there is no mistaking who he is
Millions love him, like no other
Many stood by him when his dream turned to a nightmare
He has three beautiful children and was a brilliant father
This man could not have attracted more attention if he was god!
I feel honoured to have shared his lifetime
He will live on in our hearts and minds, through his awesome music
He was the most beautiful person in the world
Do you know this man?
Have you any idea who I am talking about?
I am of course refering to the late, great Michael Jackson
This is my own opinion, from the heart.
(BTW, I made up this verse myself and have not copied these words from anywhere!)
God rest his soul
xxx
His eyes were brown
His hair was curly and black
His moves were unique
He bought joy to the world
Everyone knows this guy's name
When you hear the beat and see him dance
there is no mistaking who he is
Millions love him, like no other
Many stood by him when his dream turned to a nightmare
He has three beautiful children and was a brilliant father
This man could not have attracted more attention if he was god!
I feel honoured to have shared his lifetime
He will live on in our hearts and minds, through his awesome music
He was the most beautiful person in the world
Do you know this man?
Have you any idea who I am talking about?
I am of course refering to the late, great Michael Jackson
This is my own opinion, from the heart.
(BTW, I made up this verse myself and have not copied these words from anywhere!)
God rest his soul
xxx
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Same Old....
I have not written on here for a while but nothing much has altered since I last did so. Only my depression has deepened. I feel trapped here. I can't afford to move out and I have one percent chance of getting a suitable council house. I am saving up but will have to put that towards a holiday for my sons. I am on the housing list but there is always people more desperate than me bidding on the decent properties. So here I am. Stuck in hell with my kids. It's not my kids that are the problem it's my parents. Perhaps I have been over this already in previous posts. I moved in with my parents back when my littlies were a baby and a toddler because I split from their dad and had nowhere else to go. At the time I was actually gripped by an illogical fear of what the future might hold for me and my partner. In actuallity I think I was leaving an open prison and walking into a lions den. Only the lions don't kill you right away. They slowly eat away at your confidence and your nerves, clawing you barely enough to draw blood. Until you can't sleep for worrying and the stress is knawing at your bones and it kills you to feel so trapped and helpless to protect your children. It is not as severe and brutal as things like the poor baby peter case, but it is almost as devestating. It's bad enough that I grew up with the way my so called parents treated me but now they are doing it to my sons and that is inexcusable.
Okay so tonight I was trying to get my boys to have a wash and get changed for bed. They were quite happily reading and playing and pretending it did not need doing right now. I took away a book that my almost seven year old was trying to look at and he said Hey! in a fairly reasonable objecting tone of voice in response. I did not mind. I thought it was a fair reaction. In response my father comes out into the hall and thumps him shouting at him not to speak to me like that. Matt (my son who got hit) starts crying and holds the side of his head saying it hurts. My mother says it didn't hurt. I'm thinking how do you know? How dare she say it doesn't hurt! Does she know what he's feeling? I wanted nothing more than to hold Matt and comfort him. He wants my comfort too. But I cheerfully talk to him as I try to help him change. It breaks my heart not to help him. I was afraid to hug him and give him the comfort he so badly needed because I did not want to give my father any more reason to be angry. He frown on hugging them whenever they are crying. He thinks me and my mum do it too much and that it encourages them to cry when they don't need to and for longer than necessary. He's a cold heartless bully and I hate him. I hate being related to him and I hate having to share a house with him. I hate having to spend any time in the same room as him. And you know the best part? My parents appear to think their behaviour is normal and perfectly okay. They don't even have any idea how I feel. I would break their cold hearts to know the depth of my true feelings for them. Way back when I was a little girl I used to love my dad and look forward to when he came home for lunch, the rare times I was not at school. That affection has long since dissapated. I have not talked about why I hate my mother in this post but I could list a dozen depressing reasons or incidents to illustrate why.
My earliest memory is when I must have been only three or four years old. Very small. Something happened that caused me to run from the living room and flee upstairs to my room gripped by insane fearful panic. I recall hysterically yelling in fear No daddy don't hit me! No daddy! No! As he pursued me up the stairs. This only caused my fear to escalate of course. I ran into my room and shut the door standing behind it trying to hold it shut, whilst crying hysterically. He tried to gain entry which made me more distressed. He told me Have I ever hit you? Have I ever hit you? The answer was no, but it took a long time till I calmed down. I don't actually remember a time in my life since then when I have ever been so scared.
My parents are abusive and the abuse is tearing me apart. I can't say what effect it has on my two sons, but it is going to be negative. Worse case scenario they grow up into monsters. I'd hope they have too much of me and their daddy in them for that though, and that I have taught them to know better. But the abuse is not severe enough that social services can do anything or criminal enough that the police can do anything. Besides I am an adult too. But what can I do? I'm fucking stuck here! So it's just me and them. Left here to rot. Out on a limb all by ourselves. I get afraid sometimes that my mum is going to hurt Matt. I mean more than usual, seriously hurt him. Or maybe even kill him. Is that what were waiting for? My sons have to be dead or bleeding before anyone takes notice? Well I'd rather keep them alive and breathing if it's all the same. I have to stop now before I start crying and falling apart. No chance I'll get a good nights sleep tonight after what my father did.
Okay so tonight I was trying to get my boys to have a wash and get changed for bed. They were quite happily reading and playing and pretending it did not need doing right now. I took away a book that my almost seven year old was trying to look at and he said Hey! in a fairly reasonable objecting tone of voice in response. I did not mind. I thought it was a fair reaction. In response my father comes out into the hall and thumps him shouting at him not to speak to me like that. Matt (my son who got hit) starts crying and holds the side of his head saying it hurts. My mother says it didn't hurt. I'm thinking how do you know? How dare she say it doesn't hurt! Does she know what he's feeling? I wanted nothing more than to hold Matt and comfort him. He wants my comfort too. But I cheerfully talk to him as I try to help him change. It breaks my heart not to help him. I was afraid to hug him and give him the comfort he so badly needed because I did not want to give my father any more reason to be angry. He frown on hugging them whenever they are crying. He thinks me and my mum do it too much and that it encourages them to cry when they don't need to and for longer than necessary. He's a cold heartless bully and I hate him. I hate being related to him and I hate having to share a house with him. I hate having to spend any time in the same room as him. And you know the best part? My parents appear to think their behaviour is normal and perfectly okay. They don't even have any idea how I feel. I would break their cold hearts to know the depth of my true feelings for them. Way back when I was a little girl I used to love my dad and look forward to when he came home for lunch, the rare times I was not at school. That affection has long since dissapated. I have not talked about why I hate my mother in this post but I could list a dozen depressing reasons or incidents to illustrate why.
My earliest memory is when I must have been only three or four years old. Very small. Something happened that caused me to run from the living room and flee upstairs to my room gripped by insane fearful panic. I recall hysterically yelling in fear No daddy don't hit me! No daddy! No! As he pursued me up the stairs. This only caused my fear to escalate of course. I ran into my room and shut the door standing behind it trying to hold it shut, whilst crying hysterically. He tried to gain entry which made me more distressed. He told me Have I ever hit you? Have I ever hit you? The answer was no, but it took a long time till I calmed down. I don't actually remember a time in my life since then when I have ever been so scared.
My parents are abusive and the abuse is tearing me apart. I can't say what effect it has on my two sons, but it is going to be negative. Worse case scenario they grow up into monsters. I'd hope they have too much of me and their daddy in them for that though, and that I have taught them to know better. But the abuse is not severe enough that social services can do anything or criminal enough that the police can do anything. Besides I am an adult too. But what can I do? I'm fucking stuck here! So it's just me and them. Left here to rot. Out on a limb all by ourselves. I get afraid sometimes that my mum is going to hurt Matt. I mean more than usual, seriously hurt him. Or maybe even kill him. Is that what were waiting for? My sons have to be dead or bleeding before anyone takes notice? Well I'd rather keep them alive and breathing if it's all the same. I have to stop now before I start crying and falling apart. No chance I'll get a good nights sleep tonight after what my father did.
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Ah, where do I begin...............?
Don't know what to say. Have taken two potentially drastic steps. Number one I have written an anonymous letter to the national newspaper that I read basically slating my parents and detailing all the shit that goes on at home. Nothing may come of it anyway. Depends what action the paper decides to take on it. It was a desperate plea for help really and a determination to announce the wrongs that are happening here. Number two I have initiated contact with the police regarding the abuse my parents dish out. I am just totally scared. My dad is going to be so furious if/when he finds out what I've done. But at the same time I have had enough. I don't have the guts to stand up to my dad directly, but so long as it can be done without putting myself or my two children in danger I am ready to stop him. By whatever means necessary. I am sick of witnessing how he scares my young sons and how my mum hurts them when she hits them. I need to save them from more harm. I don't want them to grow up into either timid little men or angry violent ones. I just hope that I am doing the right thing, mainly about involving the police in this. That is a huge step. I have not only the three of us to consider, but also my two younger sister. Both are grown up and one no longer lives at home. They get on way better with mum and dad than I do and the youngest one is at university and still partly financially dependant on our parents. I am worried about upsetting the uneasy balance of life at home, unbalancing the routine we have. Because I don't know how the change (whatever change I have put us in for) will impact on my boys. Also I don't know how my parents will react. When I do things they disapprove of (like getting together with my ex, who is my boys father) I usually get an ear bashing. Long lectures at high volume about what an idiot I am, etc. Dad likes to label me as a drama queen. This thing I am kicking off with the police is the biggest thing I have ever done and it scares me to think how furious my dad will be with me. But it needs to be done. I feel this may be the only way of freeing my children and myself from my parents grasp. My relationship with them is similar to one between an abused partner and his/her abuser. It is my parents house and they have taken the dominating role with raising my sons. I have been desperate to get out of here for a long time, but have so far been unable to. I am on the council housing list and started bidding on properties. I got a couple of viewings. But at that time my youngest was still in pre school which is only part time. Therefore I had to share with my parents where I was going and why when viewing the properties. They began being as unsupportive as possible and did their utmost to talk me out of it. To prevent months of arguments and bad mouthing I pretended I had given up looking. You know how my dad asked me?
Is this moving out thing all done with now?
Bastard! As if I am a fucking teenager or something! I'm 27 years old. In fact when I first had to tell them I was seriously looking at moving out my dad asked me
What about the boys?
I was like, what about them? We will be fine, don't worry. I am ready to move out now. He said
Are you taking them with you?
I was fucking gobsmacked! How dare he! I know for sure what a lousy parent they have me down as now. When I came to them my littlest was a baby and my other son a mere toddler. You know what? They were well behaved, good little boys. Still are. While they have grown in this volatile atmosphere they have changed. And I blame my parents faulty parenting skills completely. My eldest is an angry, temperamental, moody little boy. My other one is prone to regular accidents even though he was toilet trained at least a year ago. He cries and says he doesn't like grandad putting him to bed and I don't fucking blame him. He traumatises and scares my boys. I feel powerless to stop him cause he scares me too. I hate that I have managed to give him so much power and am now unable to take it back. My boys father is a good man and a good daddy. I wish we were still together. I'd go back to him in a second if I thought it were that simple. My parents hate the air he breathes. They'd rather see me dead than with him again, that much I am sure of. I'd rather see my parents six feet under to be honest! But I won't go there. I don't really mean anything by it. I'd never act on it or anything. I am still seeing him again, but in secret from my parents. They think I am dating someone completely different, whom they have never met. I have learnt my lesson there! I love him and we have worked out everything between us. The reasons why I left and such. We have forgiven and forgotten and are prepared to move on. I am damned if I am going to let my parents stop me seeing him. If they don't know they won't hassle me about it. Sorted! Only downside is I can't talk about it with anyone. Most of all our sons can't know because they might talk about it.
On one hand I hope I am doing the right thing by going to the police about my parents abuse. On the other I know it has to be the right thing to do. Going to the police about something is only ever wrong if you have a complete fabrication and are only wasting their time. I am certainly not doing that. It is all 100% true. Then why am I so scared?
Is this moving out thing all done with now?
Bastard! As if I am a fucking teenager or something! I'm 27 years old. In fact when I first had to tell them I was seriously looking at moving out my dad asked me
What about the boys?
I was like, what about them? We will be fine, don't worry. I am ready to move out now. He said
Are you taking them with you?
I was fucking gobsmacked! How dare he! I know for sure what a lousy parent they have me down as now. When I came to them my littlest was a baby and my other son a mere toddler. You know what? They were well behaved, good little boys. Still are. While they have grown in this volatile atmosphere they have changed. And I blame my parents faulty parenting skills completely. My eldest is an angry, temperamental, moody little boy. My other one is prone to regular accidents even though he was toilet trained at least a year ago. He cries and says he doesn't like grandad putting him to bed and I don't fucking blame him. He traumatises and scares my boys. I feel powerless to stop him cause he scares me too. I hate that I have managed to give him so much power and am now unable to take it back. My boys father is a good man and a good daddy. I wish we were still together. I'd go back to him in a second if I thought it were that simple. My parents hate the air he breathes. They'd rather see me dead than with him again, that much I am sure of. I'd rather see my parents six feet under to be honest! But I won't go there. I don't really mean anything by it. I'd never act on it or anything. I am still seeing him again, but in secret from my parents. They think I am dating someone completely different, whom they have never met. I have learnt my lesson there! I love him and we have worked out everything between us. The reasons why I left and such. We have forgiven and forgotten and are prepared to move on. I am damned if I am going to let my parents stop me seeing him. If they don't know they won't hassle me about it. Sorted! Only downside is I can't talk about it with anyone. Most of all our sons can't know because they might talk about it.
On one hand I hope I am doing the right thing by going to the police about my parents abuse. On the other I know it has to be the right thing to do. Going to the police about something is only ever wrong if you have a complete fabrication and are only wasting their time. I am certainly not doing that. It is all 100% true. Then why am I so scared?
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