Here a sequel to the (pretty recent) story Juggling Coke Bottles. The story Juggling Coke Bottles was written from the point of view of the female persona in the story, but this story is written from the point of view of the guy.
I fail.
I need to edit it quite a lot, but I can't be bothered at the moment, to be honest, as I'm in a terrible piss-mood and just want to throw vases against the wall and smack my head against it as well. Or something like that, at least.
Hope you all are doing better.
THE PARK:
"I don't have much time, because Patrick's waiting for me." She threw a glance in the direction of the entrance of the park. I followed the direction of her eyes and could see that, just around the corner, there stood a broad bloke, with his arms crossed over each other. He was obviously waiting for something,- or someone. She looked at me again and continued talking: "..but I just wanted to say a couple of things."
I gulped the lump in my throat down and said: "What?"
Her eyes scrutinised me. They were bright blue and they seemed to look right through me whenever she was playing this trick on me. She knew I couldn't handle her looking at me that way,- I never told her, but she should definitely have noticed. Don't girls always notice those things? I found it so hard to look straight back at her, but I tried. I really did. What do you want?
"I have a boyfriend," she said.
What?
"I have a boyfriend and I came here to tell you so. This leaves me two options. It leaves me the option to tell you that I have a boyfriend, but that I still want you." Pause. I looked at her, I guess a bit confused. She looked to the floor and then quickly added: "Just physically, of course," she shrugged, found my eyes again. "We would continue whatever it is we had before it stopped and we wouldn't tell anyone. It would be our own, exciting secret." I still looked at her. I was doing pretty well, I think. But for how long?
She sighed, then continued. "This would be the entire story and the entire truth as well, now it comes to that. But there is another option." Pause. I noted she was struggling to keep looking right at me, yet still she went on. "The second option I have, is to tell you that I have a boyfriend and that would be it,- that would be the entire story. And it's true, it's not a lie or anything. I would just pretend that there wasn't more to tell and you would just have to pretend I had never mentioned the first option."
I nodded, tried to push another lump in my throat down. It fell right into my stomach.
I couldn't look at her anymore, so I decided to try to carelessly look at a couple that was sitting on one of the benches in the park, on Stephanie's left hand and my right. "Right," I was able to push over my lips, but only barely. I was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable, as the seconds ticked away.
"Mm-hm.." followed by something she mumbled. "I prefer the second option, so let's follow that one," she threw another glance into the direction of the entrance and then added, breathlessly, "for now."
"Yes," I brought out, trying to look unaffected.
"This, of course, brings up other options, but this time they are not meant for me to be followed. I'll tell you the two options that my decision has left you with. When I walk away, you can decide to do... Well.. Nothing. You just stare at my back until I've walked towards the entrance, hugged Patrick and walked away with him, without having looked back at you one last time. But there's another option. When I walk away, you could choose to follow." The last few words, she uttered in a way as if she stretched every syllable. "Again, I prefer the second one. I prefer you coming after me, calling my name and touching my elbow. I prefer you asking me what the fuck this all means and if this really is what I want. And I prefer you to call me a bitch." The look in her eyes was cold and distanced when I looked back at her,- she almost looked like a stranger. Do all girls change this radically over the course of one conversation?
"This is the moment where I walk away and try to say goodbye, in case you're not coming after me." She smiled that crooked smile of hers. It was the best thing about her,- it was completely real and didn't leave any questions whatsoever behind with me. "As you can see, I'm not really good at it though," she continued nervously, fidgeting her sleeve. "Well.. I guess I'll see you around, then. Bye, David."
I didn't say anything. I mean, what would you have said? What the fuck...
"Hey, Steph! Steph!! Wait up!" Before I knew it, I stood in front of her again and did all of the things she told me she preferred. "Why are you telling me all this?! We haven't been together in private since.. Last March. Why the fuck are you telling me all this, Steph?"
Her eyes crawled back up again, starting at my feet and ending at the most personal spot a person possesses... The soul. Still, she did not say a word. She wanted me to go through the hell of having to repeat everything she mentioned before.
"Is this what you want? What is it that you want, anyway? What did I do? I didn't do anything. I have always been honest with you and I have always been as clear as I could be. I even kept your jacket aside for you to come pick it up, but you never came. What did I do?!"
No motion. No motion, whatsoever. I thought I saw her hands turn into tight fists, at the sides of her body, but I didn't care, actually. It were her eyes that were impersonal; it were the eyes that got to me. I didn't know this person.
"Jesus, Steph, why are you being such a bitch? Why are you doing this? What do you want me to say?!" I threw my hands in the air, hopelessly. Wanting to find something else to vex my attention on to calm myself down a bit and to, once more, seem a tad careless, my eyes shot at the bench where the couple had been sitting a couple of minutes before. They had left.
Stephanie looked at me for a few seconds that seemed to last an eternity, but at the same time, she would never seem to take long enough. And then she smiled. Her lips curled and as she chuckled softly, her eyes rolled. Her body loosened up a little bit and she looked natural again,- herself. She blinked and for a moment it seemed like she was looking in the direction of the bloke at the entrance of the park again, but then she blinked once more and focused her look on our feet.
"Do you really think you've always been honest with me?" she asked, and she looked back up at me, comprehensively.
NO, I DON'T, but it's not like you'd understand anyway, would you? Jesus Christ...
"What do you want me to say?" The lumps in my throat hadn't come back and I was trying not to scream and make a scene in the middle of the park. I felt completely hopeless and stupid and to make matters even worse, I felt her eyes piercing into my soul and I heard the sweet laughter I had always loved so much about her. Right now, however, it couldn't possibly be more of a curse.
"I'll tell you something. If you would have been honest from the beginning, I would not be having this fucking conversation with you this very moment; it would not have been too late. But like I said, I have a boyfriend now, and that is the end of our story," she said, with ever so piercing eyes. Every single word she used to emphasise what she was saying, felt like a hammer slamming me against the side of the head; slowly, painfully.
That's it, then, I thought.
But it wasn't.
"You hurt me, so I guess this was my turn to hurt you. I just wanted to see if I could hurt you just as much as you could hurt me," she whispered, her voice hoarse and fragile.
Carefully not to make any sudden movements, she leaned in cautiously to hold my elbow tenderly and then gave me the softest kiss I had ever had, on her favourite place of the corner of my lips.
"Goodbye, David," she said, with another crook smile. This smile, I also knew; depending on to which side her mouth hung, I knew if she meant it or not. She didn't, right now.
"Goodbye," I whispered.
Her lips curled a bit up again and her eyes looked friendly now, comprehensive. It was almost as if she looked sorry. She let go of my elbow and as she let her arm hang down, I felt two of her fingers stroke my underarm slightly. She stopped smiling and then turned around. I watched her walk towards Patrick and give him a hug. He looked at me, questioning. Quickly, I broke the eye-contact by looking at the floor and tried to make my mind clear of all thoughts.
I don't know for how long I stood there like that, but when I looked up, Stephanie and the guy that came with her had already left. I felt.. Blanked, cold; but at the same time all sorts of thoughts were racing through my mind with the speed of light and I felt my cheeks glowing,- of unbelief, anger.. Fear.
The moment I took off to go home, I saw the guy that had been sitting on the bench with his girlfriend coming towards me. He was holding something and as he drew closer, I saw it was a small piece of paper. He handed it over to me. "She asked me to give you this," he said. "Take care, man." He gave me a pat on the shoulder and then disappeared out of my life.
Trying badly not to stumble over my own feet, I walked slowly to the bench the couple had been sitting on. After fidgeting for a short while with fingers that were stiff from the cold and trembling heavily because of the adrenaline rushing through my veins, I finally unfolded the piece of paper and flattened it on my knee. It didn't take me long to recognise the handwriting on it, or the words that were written in it. I stopped reading when my eyes were half-way the surface of the paper. I never cried. Never.
"Oh my god," I breathed out. I am so sorry.
20.1.09
17.1.09
Wah, so fantastic & fantastically confusing.
Dearest people of all,
Yesterday I went to Pacific Place to meet up with Billy.
I don't believe I have ever properly mentioned Billy before.
I hate to mention certain names too often, but to portray who he is and how I know him, I'm afraid I have to mention the shittiest name in existence. Greg. It's not as if I met him through Greg or anything, but I met him on the same evening. Now, as I recall, I have never mentioned when I met Greg either, so that might be a problem. But now I come to think of it: it's only a problem if you want it to. Anyway, let's proceed, shall we?
I've known Billy for a month now and i don't know, but since the moment we met I had this.. Feeling. There's not really a way for me to properly explain it. I sort of knew that something was going to happen, whether it'd be good or bad didn't really matter. He was pretty drunk the night we met and couldn't even properly remember my name (he called me Claudia when I asked him if he remembered my name) and after having not seen him for about 10 minutes (he disappeared all of a sudden), he was back and asked me for my number. 'I'd like to meet you, can I have your number?'
My immediate response was a bit ..dodgy: 'How about when you're sober?'
I kinda liked him from the beginning though, but I just don't give my number to people of whom it's the first time I've seen them, especially not if they're drunk. But yeah- I don't have a cell phone anyway (no joke)(I know, don't ask, it's painful), so it wasn't that big a deal, I guess.
When Greg was teaching me how to juggle the evening we all met, Billy jumped in between us and said: 'Watch him, he's very inappropriate!' I answered with: 'I noticed. In the time he's been supposedly teaching me how to juggle, he's touched my breast about 4 times already.' Greg decided to make it a little worse: 'What? You actually saw that? I thought I was being subtle.. Well, what can I say? I'm British. I can't help myself.'
Pig.
This completely portrays what he's like and how much I can't stand him.
So ok, how I ended up going to Billy's yesterday, is pretty obvious. We kept in touch over Facebook and MSN and at one point, his ex-girlfriend (that I know through work) asked me if we were going out. I told her we weren't ('If you mean Billy and I.. No, we're not. At least not yet. I don't know..') and she started to tell me how he mentioned me a couple of times and that he liked me. I didn't know what to believe, but after she mentioned it, I did notice how much we talked and the way we talked. I decided to just.. Ask him.
I said: 'Don't get me wrong, sometimes my mind plays dirty tricks on me, so I get things completely wrong and I make a complete and utter fool out of myself.. But, I get the notion that you like me. Sorry if I get it wrong, though..' and his immediate response was: 'Your mind is not playing tricks on you. Now, I get the notion that you like me too,' to which I couldn't do anything but be frank: 'Well observed.'
Got there, 10 minutes late. Some of you would say: 'Fashionably late!', but I'm not a fan of being late. Anywhere. I always feel terrible. But this time I had a good excuse! My sister and I were being stalked by this guy from Pakistan who wanted our numbers. He kept on talking to us about being our best friend now and how his brother was going to be married on the 1st of March. Good for you.. I mean, I was really happy for the guy and he was really nice ('I think you are very sweet and bootiful girls'), but I mean come on. He was just.. Gross. Bleh, ANYWAY (:
I got there, 10 minutes late, and I started to rant about what had happened, considering the Pakistan-guy. We went up to his apartment (absolutely GORGEOUS!! I felt like getting my camera out of my bag and taking pictures of everything. What absolute taste those people have- it's INSANE!!) and watched 2 movies: Mallrats and Breakfast At Tiffany's (I know right! He made me watch a guy-movie and I made him watch a girl-movie. Choice was easily made which movie it was going to be).
Then we kissed (I don't want to go into details about that, thank you) and then again and then some more. Then we had dinner with les parents (wah, great dinner. The dad cooked and it was just.. Great. There's no other word for it) and, in my opinion, that went well. I asked Billy if his parents liked me and he said they did. 'How can you tell?' I asked.
'They're my parents. I just notice,- it's the way they act.'
Well, whether they like me or not: I love them. Great people. They were so nice to me and the mother was talking about the First Date with the father and it was just stunning to see those people fall back in love again. Amazing.
I hope I don't screw up when I see them next time.
BECAUSE YES! THERE WILL BE A NEXT TIME.
There was a little slip in the language, though, I'm afraid. I suck at English, when it comes to speaking, but I'm pretty keen on the exact meaning of certain words and of how and when to use them. Billy is leaving in half a year for the US, to go to University there. I told him how I would kill myself if I would fall in love with him (Billy is exactly the kind of guy I would fall in love with and then get my heart broken over) and after about.. 2 sentences? Yeah, something like that. After about 2 sentences he asked me if I would be his girlfriend for the time being; between now and half a year from now. 'Would you be my girlfriend?'
Now, I don't know, but the word 'would' doesn't mean the same as the word 'will', does it? I'm a huge language-freak and I just.. It just doesn't mean the same thing. I said: 'I would be, yes.'
I said I would be.
Then I got on my bus and went home.
Billy's great. I really like him. But I don't know what to do about this. We're together now, I suppose, and that is all fine with me. Whenever I am with him, I feel great. I feel beautiful and at ease and I don't want to leave. When I'm with him, I don't think about July, I don't think about broken hearts, I just think about having a good time, as long as it lasts. But then when he's gone, I start freaking out about July, I start to panic about what might happen. I might fall in love, I might get my heart broken, etc.. But then again, that's not a 'will'. I won't necessarily fall in love and get my heart broken.
So, YES. I don't know what to do. I guess.. Nothing? Just staying with him (:
This means I don't need an excuse to say 'no' to Greg anymore, which is actually pretty convenient, IF the DICK ever decides to contact me again. Blegh. He's so disgusting. I just want that DVD out of my bag, out of my house.
I think that a nice conclusion to this shit post might be the words:
I really like Billy.
[If this is the last post I will post in a long time, it is because I have been smacking my head against a brick wall, after having found out that Billy read this post.]
Yesterday I went to Pacific Place to meet up with Billy.
I don't believe I have ever properly mentioned Billy before.
I hate to mention certain names too often, but to portray who he is and how I know him, I'm afraid I have to mention the shittiest name in existence. Greg. It's not as if I met him through Greg or anything, but I met him on the same evening. Now, as I recall, I have never mentioned when I met Greg either, so that might be a problem. But now I come to think of it: it's only a problem if you want it to. Anyway, let's proceed, shall we?
I've known Billy for a month now and i don't know, but since the moment we met I had this.. Feeling. There's not really a way for me to properly explain it. I sort of knew that something was going to happen, whether it'd be good or bad didn't really matter. He was pretty drunk the night we met and couldn't even properly remember my name (he called me Claudia when I asked him if he remembered my name) and after having not seen him for about 10 minutes (he disappeared all of a sudden), he was back and asked me for my number. 'I'd like to meet you, can I have your number?'
My immediate response was a bit ..dodgy: 'How about when you're sober?'
I kinda liked him from the beginning though, but I just don't give my number to people of whom it's the first time I've seen them, especially not if they're drunk. But yeah- I don't have a cell phone anyway (no joke)(I know, don't ask, it's painful), so it wasn't that big a deal, I guess.
When Greg was teaching me how to juggle the evening we all met, Billy jumped in between us and said: 'Watch him, he's very inappropriate!' I answered with: 'I noticed. In the time he's been supposedly teaching me how to juggle, he's touched my breast about 4 times already.' Greg decided to make it a little worse: 'What? You actually saw that? I thought I was being subtle.. Well, what can I say? I'm British. I can't help myself.'
Pig.
This completely portrays what he's like and how much I can't stand him.
So ok, how I ended up going to Billy's yesterday, is pretty obvious. We kept in touch over Facebook and MSN and at one point, his ex-girlfriend (that I know through work) asked me if we were going out. I told her we weren't ('If you mean Billy and I.. No, we're not. At least not yet. I don't know..') and she started to tell me how he mentioned me a couple of times and that he liked me. I didn't know what to believe, but after she mentioned it, I did notice how much we talked and the way we talked. I decided to just.. Ask him.
I said: 'Don't get me wrong, sometimes my mind plays dirty tricks on me, so I get things completely wrong and I make a complete and utter fool out of myself.. But, I get the notion that you like me. Sorry if I get it wrong, though..' and his immediate response was: 'Your mind is not playing tricks on you. Now, I get the notion that you like me too,' to which I couldn't do anything but be frank: 'Well observed.'
Got there, 10 minutes late. Some of you would say: 'Fashionably late!', but I'm not a fan of being late. Anywhere. I always feel terrible. But this time I had a good excuse! My sister and I were being stalked by this guy from Pakistan who wanted our numbers. He kept on talking to us about being our best friend now and how his brother was going to be married on the 1st of March. Good for you.. I mean, I was really happy for the guy and he was really nice ('I think you are very sweet and bootiful girls'), but I mean come on. He was just.. Gross. Bleh, ANYWAY (:
I got there, 10 minutes late, and I started to rant about what had happened, considering the Pakistan-guy. We went up to his apartment (absolutely GORGEOUS!! I felt like getting my camera out of my bag and taking pictures of everything. What absolute taste those people have- it's INSANE!!) and watched 2 movies: Mallrats and Breakfast At Tiffany's (I know right! He made me watch a guy-movie and I made him watch a girl-movie. Choice was easily made which movie it was going to be).
Then we kissed (I don't want to go into details about that, thank you) and then again and then some more. Then we had dinner with les parents (wah, great dinner. The dad cooked and it was just.. Great. There's no other word for it) and, in my opinion, that went well. I asked Billy if his parents liked me and he said they did. 'How can you tell?' I asked.
'They're my parents. I just notice,- it's the way they act.'
Well, whether they like me or not: I love them. Great people. They were so nice to me and the mother was talking about the First Date with the father and it was just stunning to see those people fall back in love again. Amazing.
I hope I don't screw up when I see them next time.
BECAUSE YES! THERE WILL BE A NEXT TIME.
There was a little slip in the language, though, I'm afraid. I suck at English, when it comes to speaking, but I'm pretty keen on the exact meaning of certain words and of how and when to use them. Billy is leaving in half a year for the US, to go to University there. I told him how I would kill myself if I would fall in love with him (Billy is exactly the kind of guy I would fall in love with and then get my heart broken over) and after about.. 2 sentences? Yeah, something like that. After about 2 sentences he asked me if I would be his girlfriend for the time being; between now and half a year from now. 'Would you be my girlfriend?'
Now, I don't know, but the word 'would' doesn't mean the same as the word 'will', does it? I'm a huge language-freak and I just.. It just doesn't mean the same thing. I said: 'I would be, yes.'
I said I would be.
Then I got on my bus and went home.
Billy's great. I really like him. But I don't know what to do about this. We're together now, I suppose, and that is all fine with me. Whenever I am with him, I feel great. I feel beautiful and at ease and I don't want to leave. When I'm with him, I don't think about July, I don't think about broken hearts, I just think about having a good time, as long as it lasts. But then when he's gone, I start freaking out about July, I start to panic about what might happen. I might fall in love, I might get my heart broken, etc.. But then again, that's not a 'will'. I won't necessarily fall in love and get my heart broken.
So, YES. I don't know what to do. I guess.. Nothing? Just staying with him (:
This means I don't need an excuse to say 'no' to Greg anymore, which is actually pretty convenient, IF the DICK ever decides to contact me again. Blegh. He's so disgusting. I just want that DVD out of my bag, out of my house.
I think that a nice conclusion to this shit post might be the words:
I really like Billy.
[If this is the last post I will post in a long time, it is because I have been smacking my head against a brick wall, after having found out that Billy read this post.]
CHECKMATE!
Here are two of the songs from the musical Chess (concert performance). One of the best things that has ever happened to me. The lyrics are amazing and the voices are just indescribable. I love it!
I also have a lot to tell you (considering Billy), but I shall do that in another post, first thing tomorrow, as I am pretty tired after today.
I hope you like the songs. I'm absolutely addicted to them; hardly listen to anything but this musical nowadays.
Take care, everybody!
Heaven Help My Heart (Idina Menzel):
I Know Him So Well (Idina Menzel + Kerry Ellis):
I also have a lot to tell you (considering Billy), but I shall do that in another post, first thing tomorrow, as I am pretty tired after today.
I hope you like the songs. I'm absolutely addicted to them; hardly listen to anything but this musical nowadays.
Take care, everybody!
Heaven Help My Heart (Idina Menzel):
I Know Him So Well (Idina Menzel + Kerry Ellis):
16.1.09
My one true love; Fernando Pessoa.
XIX
Beauty and love let no one separate,
Whom exact Nature did to each other fit,
Giving to Beauty love as finishing fate
And to Love beauty as true colour of it.
Let he but friend be who the soul finds fair,
And none dare love outside the body's thought,
So the seen couple's togetherness shall bear
Truth to the beauty each in the other sought.
I could but love thee out of mockery
Of love and thee and mine own ugliness;
Therefore thy beauty I sing and wish not thee,
Thanking the Gods I long not out of place,
Lest, like a slave that for kings' robes doth long,
Obtained, shall with mere wearing do them wrong.
Beauty and love let no one separate,
Whom exact Nature did to each other fit,
Giving to Beauty love as finishing fate
And to Love beauty as true colour of it.
Let he but friend be who the soul finds fair,
And none dare love outside the body's thought,
So the seen couple's togetherness shall bear
Truth to the beauty each in the other sought.
I could but love thee out of mockery
Of love and thee and mine own ugliness;
Therefore thy beauty I sing and wish not thee,
Thanking the Gods I long not out of place,
Lest, like a slave that for kings' robes doth long,
Obtained, shall with mere wearing do them wrong.
XX
When in the widening circle of rebirth
To a new flesh my travelled soul shall come,
And try again the unremembered earth
With the old sadness for the immortal home,
Shall I revisit these same differing fields
And cull the old new flowers with the same sense,
That some small breath of foiled remembrance yields,
Of more age than my days in this pretence?
Shall I again regret strange faces lost
Of which the present memory is forgot
And but in unseen bulks of vangueness tossed
Out of the closed sea and black night of Thought?
Where thy face one, what sweetness will't not be,
Though by blind feeling, to remember thee!
When in the widening circle of rebirth
To a new flesh my travelled soul shall come,
And try again the unremembered earth
With the old sadness for the immortal home,
Shall I revisit these same differing fields
And cull the old new flowers with the same sense,
That some small breath of foiled remembrance yields,
Of more age than my days in this pretence?
Shall I again regret strange faces lost
Of which the present memory is forgot
And but in unseen bulks of vangueness tossed
Out of the closed sea and black night of Thought?
Where thy face one, what sweetness will't not be,
Though by blind feeling, to remember thee!
12 x me (:
There is nothing else to do, but waiting for 'certain people' to contact me in order for my heart to be at ease again. My parents just watched the movie Jaws and I decided to write a list of my favourite things. I was thinking of adding a couple of things to the list, like 'Scent' and 'University', but I decided it was better to put that in another blogpost, as this one turned out to become longer and longer by the second.
There are many things missing in the list I wrote, but my mind still appears to be on the stand-by mode and I couldn't think of anything better to write. When I remember things that definitely should be in the list, but aren't right now, I'll add them as soon as possible!
I feel bad for not uploading a picture for each city I wrote down, but I think it would turn out to be too many, lol. Same goes for the movies and books, but I'm guessing you already came to that conclusion.
Going to bed now. Hopefully going out tomorrow, so I can see Billy (and others) again!
Ta!
Love you!
-Camilla.
1. Clothes shop: Cotton On, Stradivarius, Zara, 8O's Plus and In&Out. Random order.
2. Furniture shop: Flea+Cents (in Wan Chai).
3. Sweet: Drop (liquorish. Yes, that's Dutch)! Poffertjes (really tiny pancakes, also Dutch).
4. City: Hong Kong, NYC, Lisbon, Paris, Venice, Amsterdam, Moscow, Berlin, Prague. I freaking love traveling!
5. Drink: Bubble tea, Blow Jobs, Champagne, diet coke, Strawberry Margherita.
6. Music: old skool jazz (from original Frank Sinatra to modern Room Eleven and Club Gare Du Nord), old skool rock (Elvis, the Hives, etc.), musical songs (RENT, Chess, Wicked, etc.).
7. Tv-Series: Ally McBeal, House M.D., Pride&Prejudice (BBC), Gilmore Girls, Grey's Anatomy, The L Word. Ah-men.
8. Film: Amadeus, El Orfanato (the Orphanage), V for Vendetta, Cold Mountain, the Kite Runner, the Matrix, RENT, Million Dollar Baby, Sense&Sensibility, Girl Interrupted, Alles is Liefde (Everything is Love), Pursuit of Happyness, Save the Last Dance, Bridget Jones' Diary, 7 Years In Tibet, Sound Of Music, My Fair Lady, Breakfast At Tiffany's, Juno, Lord of the Rings (all 3), the Moulin Rouge, Titanic. So many movies that deserve to be in here, but aren't.. There are just too many to list; I'm a genuine movie-freak!
9. Workout: Latin dance, dance excercises. Yoga, kick-fit (thai kick-boxing). I walk up 6 floors every single morning at school, sometimes 8 (WAH! MADNESS!).
10. Pastries: bolo de bolacha (biscuit-cake), home-made chocolate-cake (by mom) and bolussen (kind of like cinammon rolls, but then better! Dutch as well). Yum!
11. Coffee: Mocca frappuccino, gingerbread latte. Starbucks.
12. Book: Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte), Emma (Jane Austen), Sense&Sensibility (Jane Austen), The Beautiful And Damned (F. Scott Fitzgerald), The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald), Lord of the Rings triology (J.R.R. Tolkien), Of Mice And Men (John Steinbeck), Cold Mountain (Charles Frazier), The Alchemist (Paolo Coelho), Eleven Minutes (Paolo Coelho), Like The Flowing River (Paolo Coelho), The Tenth Circle (Jodi Picoult), Killing Me Softly (Nicci French), A Thousand Splendid Suns (Khaled Housseini), The Kite Runner (Khaled Housseini), Othello (William Shakespeare), Harry Potter series (J.K. Rowling). Again: there are just too many great books to list up here. And there are just too many of those I still want to read. What happens to the time?
There are many things missing in the list I wrote, but my mind still appears to be on the stand-by mode and I couldn't think of anything better to write. When I remember things that definitely should be in the list, but aren't right now, I'll add them as soon as possible!
I feel bad for not uploading a picture for each city I wrote down, but I think it would turn out to be too many, lol. Same goes for the movies and books, but I'm guessing you already came to that conclusion.
Going to bed now. Hopefully going out tomorrow, so I can see Billy (and others) again!
Ta!
Love you!
-Camilla.
1. Clothes shop: Cotton On, Stradivarius, Zara, 8O's Plus and In&Out. Random order.
2. Furniture shop: Flea+Cents (in Wan Chai).
3. Sweet: Drop (liquorish. Yes, that's Dutch)! Poffertjes (really tiny pancakes, also Dutch).
4. City: Hong Kong, NYC, Lisbon, Paris, Venice, Amsterdam, Moscow, Berlin, Prague. I freaking love traveling!
5. Drink: Bubble tea, Blow Jobs, Champagne, diet coke, Strawberry Margherita.
6. Music: old skool jazz (from original Frank Sinatra to modern Room Eleven and Club Gare Du Nord), old skool rock (Elvis, the Hives, etc.), musical songs (RENT, Chess, Wicked, etc.).
7. Tv-Series: Ally McBeal, House M.D., Pride&Prejudice (BBC), Gilmore Girls, Grey's Anatomy, The L Word. Ah-men.
8. Film: Amadeus, El Orfanato (the Orphanage), V for Vendetta, Cold Mountain, the Kite Runner, the Matrix, RENT, Million Dollar Baby, Sense&Sensibility, Girl Interrupted, Alles is Liefde (Everything is Love), Pursuit of Happyness, Save the Last Dance, Bridget Jones' Diary, 7 Years In Tibet, Sound Of Music, My Fair Lady, Breakfast At Tiffany's, Juno, Lord of the Rings (all 3), the Moulin Rouge, Titanic. So many movies that deserve to be in here, but aren't.. There are just too many to list; I'm a genuine movie-freak!
9. Workout: Latin dance, dance excercises. Yoga, kick-fit (thai kick-boxing). I walk up 6 floors every single morning at school, sometimes 8 (WAH! MADNESS!).
10. Pastries: bolo de bolacha (biscuit-cake), home-made chocolate-cake (by mom) and bolussen (kind of like cinammon rolls, but then better! Dutch as well). Yum!
11. Coffee: Mocca frappuccino, gingerbread latte. Starbucks.
12. Book: Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte), Emma (Jane Austen), Sense&Sensibility (Jane Austen), The Beautiful And Damned (F. Scott Fitzgerald), The Great Gatsby (F. Scott Fitzgerald), Lord of the Rings triology (J.R.R. Tolkien), Of Mice And Men (John Steinbeck), Cold Mountain (Charles Frazier), The Alchemist (Paolo Coelho), Eleven Minutes (Paolo Coelho), Like The Flowing River (Paolo Coelho), The Tenth Circle (Jodi Picoult), Killing Me Softly (Nicci French), A Thousand Splendid Suns (Khaled Housseini), The Kite Runner (Khaled Housseini), Othello (William Shakespeare), Harry Potter series (J.K. Rowling). Again: there are just too many great books to list up here. And there are just too many of those I still want to read. What happens to the time?
Heaven help my heart ♥
If it were love, I would give that love every second I had.
And I do.
Did I know where he'd lead me to?
Did I plan
doing all of this for the love of a man?
Well, I let it happen anyhow
and what I'm feeling now,
has no easy explanation;
reason plays no part ..
Heaven help my heart;
I love him too much .
What if he saw my whole existence,
Turning around a word, a smile, a touch?
One of these days, and it won't be long,
he'll know more about me
than he should .
All my dreams will be understood ;
no surprise..
Nothing more to learn from the look in my eyes..
Don't you know that time is not my friend?
I'll fight it to the end ,
hoping to keep that best of moments,
when the passions start .
Heaven help my heart
the day that I find
suddenly I've run out of secrets ;
suddenly I'm not always on his mind ..
Maybe it's best to love a stranger.
Well, that's what I've done;
- heaven help my heart..
Heaven help my heart .
And I do.
Did I know where he'd lead me to?
Did I plan
doing all of this for the love of a man?
Well, I let it happen anyhow
and what I'm feeling now,
has no easy explanation;
reason plays no part ..
Heaven help my heart;
I love him too much .
What if he saw my whole existence,
Turning around a word, a smile, a touch?
One of these days, and it won't be long,
he'll know more about me
than he should .
All my dreams will be understood ;
no surprise..
Nothing more to learn from the look in my eyes..
Don't you know that time is not my friend?
I'll fight it to the end ,
hoping to keep that best of moments,
when the passions start .
Heaven help my heart
the day that I find
suddenly I've run out of secrets ;
suddenly I'm not always on his mind ..
Maybe it's best to love a stranger.
Well, that's what I've done;
- heaven help my heart..
Heaven help my heart .
Ooohh, how irresistibly peng!
LOVEBIRDS!
I'll try to be casual, I'll try to smile.
Still haven't heard from Greg. Do I care? No. Is it inappropriate? Very.
I asked him when he would be able to get his dvd back, but he hasn't replied yet. It's been a week.
Ok, let's do this again.
Do I care? A little bit. Is it inappropriate? Very much so.
He told me his internet would get cut maybe, because he didn't pay the bills. It might be that. But even then, he should be able to contact me someplace else, right?
One more time.
Do I care? Of course I freaking do! Is it inappropriate? Hell yes.
SOME pictures of what I was wearing today. I can't find my camera.. I can't have lost it, but my head is just too much of a mess at the moment and that is being reflected on my environment, hence I can't find my camera. I used photobooth to take the pictures, so it's only le upper-body this time.
I'll try to be casual, I'll try to smile.
Still haven't heard from Greg. Do I care? No. Is it inappropriate? Very.
I asked him when he would be able to get his dvd back, but he hasn't replied yet. It's been a week.
Ok, let's do this again.
Do I care? A little bit. Is it inappropriate? Very much so.
He told me his internet would get cut maybe, because he didn't pay the bills. It might be that. But even then, he should be able to contact me someplace else, right?
One more time.
Do I care? Of course I freaking do! Is it inappropriate? Hell yes.
SOME pictures of what I was wearing today. I can't find my camera.. I can't have lost it, but my head is just too much of a mess at the moment and that is being reflected on my environment, hence I can't find my camera. I used photobooth to take the pictures, so it's only le upper-body this time.
15.1.09
Let's pretend not to be individuals and follow the crowd.
A picture I found in my folder with pictures of our house and surroundings. This is a picture of our swimming pool, in the back yard. As you can see, there is an amazing view that includes some of the sea (of which I have better pictures, however). The 'mountains' you can see, are other parts of Hong Kong Island; the side we have our view on from the swimming pool (on the picture), is where Ocean Park is, where the cable-thingies are and where 'the Peak' is. Our view is one of the things I value most about our house and I hope to be able to enjoy it a little longer.Some other pictures of our view:
And now it's your turn!
I tag Ailynn, Rita Mary and 'Fashion Chalet'.
I want you to show me what the fourth picture from your fourth picture-holding folder is. Tell me what's on it and tag some other members of the blogging community!
Let's forget being individuals for a bit and join the cult!
Sickkkk.
This is what I look like when I am sick and I cannot stop coughing until my eyes start to sting because of the tears coming up.My wrist looks a bit freaky, but hey, at least I don't have three nipples or something, so it's all good.
I can't help being so hot.
I hate my glasses. I have way cooler ones, but these are my 'when-I-am-sick-
and-have-nobody-to-be-cool-for'-glasses.Do you have certain things you only wear when you're sick and home alone? What are they?
Haha. I should really go to the hairdresser shortly. I really want to cut my hair the way it's on the picture I posted sometime earlier in the blogpost 'I cut my hair and drink a latte. Lalala.', but my mother was being a genuine bitch about it, whereas all the people around me told me that they thought it would look good on me.
Wah, dillemma.
Pictures and thoughts.
Yay.
I promised the lovely Rita Mary I would post some outfits on my blog. I'm still sick, however, and that is not a great state to be in when you're putting on different outfits and taking pictures. I look like death warmed up and that's not all too great either.
So I decided to place a picture of myself, considering how all the other pictures I posted on blogspot weren't very recognisable.
So I decided to place a picture of myself, considering how all the other pictures I posted on blogspot weren't very recognisable.
I feel like writing something. I don't know, but it kind of surprised me how long the last story (Juggling Coke Bottles) turned out to be. It's not good, but I'm not going to change it now. It's not supposed to be perfect. The thing with the story is that I have never written about sex like that before. I have written stories in which the personas had sex, but I never mentioned the actual sex; I only made subtle references. Now the strange thing about this all, is that I've never been able to write a longer story than about two A4s, but this story is about 6 of those pages long. I'm wondering if that is a good strange thing or a bad strange thing. If you've read the story, let me know what you think!
After I re-read it myself, I was thinking of maybe writing the same story from the guy's point of view. Then I thought of writing a sequel or a prequel even. So like I said: if you've read it, let me know.
I'm quite lost in this maze myself and I value your opinion on what to do next (:
THANKS.
Ok, now a small update on life: there's nothing to update!
I'm watching Season's 2 episode 15 of Gossip Girl right now and the only thing I can bring out is a faint 'oh my.. So so so scandalous!'
Can't wait to see the rest!
On the left a picture of Leighton Meester wearing Monique Lhuillier.
The picture is so simple, so pure.. I can't say anything but: STUNNINGGGG.
I don't think Leighton is exceedingly pretty or anything, but she does have a certain beauty that I cannot quite place.. It's very classic and I think she looks a bit like a porcelain doll most of the time. It's amazing.
Great actress, too! Doesn't happen everyday that you find an actress for a show like Gossip Girl that has actual talent. Wah. Go Leighton!
14.1.09
Pride & Prejudice
Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously.... Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.
Can someone please make Jane Austen rise from the dead, because she would actually teach us stuff. Her words are incredibly inspiring. I have been doing English for 4.5 years now and even though I must say I suck at it, I am trying my hardest to become good at English.
The reason?
Seems pretty obvious to me.
Jane inspires me.
Juggling coke bottles.
Hereby my new story. It's not about me, but you may pretend it is. If that makes you feel good.
I wanted to experiment and try something else for a change. My usual short stories are very short, very emotional. This turned out not to be that short. Nonetheless, in my own opinion, it is still very emotional, even though I didn't want it to be in the first place. When I was writing it, however, I got dragged along by the words a bit and I decided for the persona to be as emotional as the words wanted her to be.
I'm sorry if it shocks you. I'm sorry if it offends you. I'm sorry if you think it's too long.
But it made me feel good when I wrote it. Fiction is a great tool to help you paint the walls that you've built around you. It's a great tool to paint the walls inside your head with too. Sometimes, however, it can be considered a hammer, with which those walls are being knocked down. I still have to find out what kind of fiction this is. The paint? Or the hammer?
JUGGLING COKE BOTTLES:
I saw him coming towards me from across the other side of the trottoir. I had just smoked a cigarette and to act as if I hadn’t seen him coming in my direction, I pretended to be busy with pressing the fire out. After doing so, I opened my bag and pulled out of it a bottle of coke light. Unfortunately, I had never been good at opening bottles of soda in an elegant kind of way and this was one of those situations where it couldn’t possibly have looked less elegant. I opened the bottle and half of its contents came spilling out. The jeans I had been wearing, ceased being the spotless white colour they had initially been and as I saw the brown substance soak the fabrics enclosing my legs, I cursed under my breath. Of course I couldn’t remain anonymous this way and he saw me. Before I knew it, he stood right in front of me. He had a mocking look in his eyes, as he scanned my entire being. He did not only look at my body in a shameless way, but he also seemed to look right through me, as if he knew what was going on inside of me. As if he cared.
I shook this idea out of my brain and with an apologising smile, I stated: “Yeah... I’ve never really been good at opening bottles.” I shrugged and leaned in for a kiss. My eyes closed and my lips slightly pursed, I stood there for a couple of seconds, like a fish praying for a bit of air, until I opened my eyes to see he hadn’t moved a bit. He still had that mocking look in his eyes and it seemed to grow profoundly, when he saw how offended I was. He had rejected my lips in the middle of the street, with people looking at us, scrutinising every little thing we did and did not do. For a while, we just stood there, looking at each other. He didn’t move, the only thing that changed slightly, was his mouth. I could see he was trying to hold a smile back. What do you want? I begged him with my eyes. Then he turned around and said: “It’s that way.” Slowly, he turned his upper-body in my direction and gestured me to follow him, with a faint nod of the head. I picked up my bag and followed the mysterious person in front of me.
During the walk, we hardly spoke. He walked in front of me all the time and it felt a bit weird at first. At the moment I got used to the feeling of being ignored, he turned around. I immediately stopped walking as well and looked at him, curious of what he might do next. He stepped forward, in my direction. Every step he placed on the grey pavement, was placed confidently, yet cautiously. It was as if he walked in an incredible tedious slow-motion, but within a blink, his face was merely a couple of inches away from my face. Confused and still a bit offended, although also amused if I’m really honest, I pulled my body back, so I could have a proper look at the person in front of me. He wasn’t very tall; about two inches taller than I was. He had green eyes, with spots of brown in them, and a perfect nose. He had told me once that he had broken it four times, but I couldn’t see it; it was perfect. He had dark blond, curly hair, which he would mess up with his right hand, whenever deep in thought. He had a bit of a beard, not a long one, but one of those that men have when they haven’t shaved for about 5 days. He had big lips. He was chubby. He wore a childish T-shirt with a shark on it and a hole at one of the seems of his right sleeve. Frankly enough… It didn’t bother me. It didn’t even bother me that his right shoe was almost entire ripped from its sole. I could only look at those green eyes, with those tiny brown spots in them. Depending on how good the weather was, his eyes could become more of a mixture between sea-green and gold and whenever I looked into them then, it would feel as if I lost myself and drowned in them...
I felt his lips pressing against my lips. I felt his entire body pressing against mine. I felt his desire and I tried to hide mine, but I felt lost in his grip; I felt lost in his kiss. His hands were everywhere: first, he held my body against his, he pressed our bodies together as if he wanted to melt together, right there and then. Then he held my face, very gently, as if he was making up for the roughness of how the kiss had started out. His hands moved again and he held my head from the back. I felt his fingers run through my hair and his kiss became rougher again. I felt lost, I could hardly breathe and I wanted to get away from there; from him. But there was one thing that I wanted better: staying with him. I decided to let go of the desire and to share it with him. As I decided to do so, his grip softened and he stopped kissing me. He held my head; one of his hands at the back of my head, fingers entangled in my hair, and the other one brushed some hair out of my face. He leaned forward again and whispered something in my ear. “I want to fuck you. Right here, now.” I know, I thought to myself. I looked at him, smiled vaguely and tore myself away from him. “Too bad you need at least two people for that,” I was teasing him. Even though I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do and this would go wrong. But that was what made it interesting. And irresistible.
He grabbed my elbow and pulled me to him. The confidence he did this with, disgusted me. You were the one that rejected me, what do you want?! I turned around and started walking away. “What are you doing? Where are you going?” he shouted after me.
“I don’t care, as long as I’m not with you, you arrogant son of a bitch,” I shouted back.
Before I knew it, he stood in front of me again, holding both of my elbows this time. I felt my head spin and my knees shake. It's never good to feel things like anger, disgust and desire at the same time.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"With me? What is wrong with me?! I'll tell you what's wrong with you, you fucker. From the first time I had you in my sight, I knew that I was going to hate you. I knew you were disgusting and you weren't going to be capable of doing anything that would not make me loathe you. You are revolting and impossible to be around and I can't believe I'm here. What do you want from me?" Shit, I didn't seem to be able to stop talking anymore. Nerves...
Silence.
"What do you want?!" I threw my hands in the air and felt like a whining little child. He was the only person that could make me feel that way; I wasn't that young anymore in the eyes of some and in the eyes of others, I was too young.
He spoke. "I told you. I don't want to give you any wrong impression, it's just physical. Everything you just said, is completely mutual, I can assure you." He drew closer to me and I could feel his breath on my skin. It made me shiver. He whispered in my ear again: "I know you want to fuck me, why would you even bother denying it?" He leaned back and hid little tangles of hair behind my ears. "You know it's going to happen anyway."
"Yes, I do. But having a shown path, doesn't mean I'm following its direction," I answered. He seemed a bit confused.
"Well.. Why are you here, then?" he asked matter-of-factly.
I smiled, leaned in and bit on his lower-lip. "Let's go," I said.
For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but then he smiled and said: "You're such a tease," and followed me.
Arrived at his one-room apartment, I didn't know what to do; it all felt new to me, regardless the fact this wasn't the first time I was alone with a man. I felt his eyes scanning me again and to focus on something else, to feel less nervous, I looked around. On several places, there were juggling balls and against the fridge, stood a couple of clubs. "You can't juggle," I said, more to myself than to him. I turned around to look at him. "Why do you have this stuff?"
He shrugged and started to laugh. "Because I don't juggle, remember?"
"Of course." I bit on my lip. Touche.
I walked around, as far as that was possible, and put down my stuff. I put my coke bottle on the kitchen table and took off my new navy-blue jacket. He reached for my jacket and without thinking about it, I gave it to him and sat down on the bed, absentmindedly. He tried to throw the jacket on one of the cupboards, but instead, it fell on the floor. My new jacket.
"Oh no, you did not just...." I exclaimed, ready to attack him with my words which would remember him of how he disgusted me and of how I really didn't want to be there. Obviously.
Instead of picking my jacket off the floor that didn't seem to have had a proper cleansing in years, he came towards me and pinned me down on the bed. He kissed me roughly and again his hands were everywhere. And on more places. After a couple of minutes of kissing underneath our breaths, he undressed me. It wasn't the romantic, slow kind of undressing, but more like the hasty 'I-want-you-but-we-only-have-10-minutes'-kind of undressing. This is too fast, I thought. He stopped kissing me, at that very moment, and took off my bra in a surprisingly slow manner, while he looked me in the eyes. Oh, fuck it. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him. This time it was I, who was pressing our bodies against each other. I could feel him and didn't want to wait anymore; he didn't seem to be willing to do so either. He pinned my arms down above my head, on the pillow, and started to kiss my entire upper-body. He pressed his soft lips on my skin and before I could take the time to enjoy it, I felt a stinging pain at the place he kissed me. He was biting me.
"Ouch! What the fuck do you think you're doing, dick?!" I sat up and looked at my breast. There was a gigantic red patch on it and my eyes went from my breast to his face, back to my breast, in awe. "What the fuck man! Jesus!"
He answered me with a grin and I saw his head go down again. He laid me down on the bed once more and licked the sensitive spot where he had bitten me and I could feel him smiling against my skin. "I know something fun..." he said to my belly.
"Oh, I bet you do," I moaned. I didn't like this. I wanted to get out of there. But I loved it. What is he doing? I wondered, and I pulled up my head to see what he was doing, but it wasn't necessary. I felt it; he was biting me in the side. It tickled and stung and I didn't know if it felt good or not. I wanted him to stop and I wanted him to go on, I wanted to kick my feet around and scream and I wanted to lie still and be quiet...
I smacked him on the head. Not very hard, but hard enough for him to stop biting me. "What the..." he said, bringing his head up to see what was going on. I slapped him in the face. Again, I didn't slap him very hard; just hard enough for him to know that I didn't want him and I wasn't attracted to him. Or something like that.
"You're a pig. I hate you. Let go of me, you're hurting me."
"I'm becoming a bit insecure when you keep reminding me of the dick I really am," he shot back at me. Ouch, you need quite the confidence to be able to say you're feeling insecure. Did I want to get out of there? Yes. Did I play along and stay anyway? Yes.
"Well, someone has to tell you. Get off me."
"You don't want me to get off you."
"Yes, I do," I tried to fight what I felt. I really tried.
He slapped me in the face. I felt my entire cheek glowing and was speechless for a while. Then something inside of me snapped. It was self-control. I literally felt the self-control flow out of me and ripped off my pants. I tried throwing them on the cupboard, but just like the jacket, it fell on the ground. On the other side of the room, one of the clubs fell down.
"It's hard isn't it?" he said, smiling, under his breath.
I got on top of him and got off his jeans. His T-shirt was off already, but I couldn't remember taking it off. Who cares. I nibbled on his ear and he said: "Stop it. Fuck me."
I ignored him and continued nibbling his ear.
"I'm not kidding, just fuck me already."
When he said that, I sat up. I looked at my watch and then at him. "Hmm.. I think I'd better go."
He sat up too and switched our positions again. He pushed me against the bed and when I tried to get up, he slapped me in the face again. But this time, I liked it. I knew I deserved it; it was what I had been asking for all along, after all. Fine, I'll admit it. Damn it.
When we were done, we did it again. After that, David got up, pulled on a pair of black boxers and picked up the juggling clubs that were standing against the fridge. The one that had fallen down, had rolled away, so he picked up the next best thing he could juggle with, instead of that club. He found my coke bottle and started juggling with it.
I looked at him for a while.
"I take it back."
"Hm?" It looked cute, the way he juggled; wearing nothing but that pair of boxers, sticking the tip of his tongue out of his mouth, in utter concentration.
"You're a true juggler."
I watched him again, for a little while, then he dropped one of the clubs and I had to laugh.
"Is it like, your cigarette after sex or something?!"
"Nah. It's more something to bring me back to reality.." he answered.
I stood up, took a short, steaming hot shower and put on my jacket on the way out. He didn’t hold the door for me, nor did he have the decency to stand up. Why was I so attracted to this asshole?
I walked up to him, he still sat on the edge of his bed. Juggling, of course. I waited for the right moment and when I saw he stuck his tongue out of his mouth a bit again, I snatched one of the things he was juggling with out of the air. It was my coke bottle. To be honest, I was a bit surprised I had actually caught the bottle, as my reflexes aren’t that good, usually. I took the cap off the bottle and put the little opening to my lips. It tasted… Like nothing. It made my face twist and I put the cap back on the opening. He took the bottle from me and pulled me down by my hair, gently. He kissed me. "When am I seeing you again?"
What is this? I thought to myself. He didn’t want to give me any wrong impressions, but what was he doing? Exactly, giving me wrong impressions. But were they wrong? What-is-this?!
“How about.. Never? This was a one-time mistake. I do not know what will happen if we make it again and I do not wish to find out.” I bent over him and kissed him very softly on the corner of his lips. He turned his face away, didn’t look at me. Seeming not to use any breath whatsoever, he said: “You should go then. Otherwise I’d have to make you find out.” He still didn’t look at me. Why do you enjoy hurting me so much? Why do you not care? Why?
Without saying another word, I got my bag and walked towards the door. Door-knob in my hand, I realised something. My coke bottle. I walked back and snatched the bottle from his bed. “That is mine, thank you very much,” I snapped at him. But he didn’t look at me, didn’t seem to hear me.
I stood in the elevator and just before the doors closed, I saw his face, bewildered. He was holding my navy jacket. “Wait, you left your…” But it was too late. The doors had closed before he could finish what he had begun. I loved that jacket, but I knew I would not go back up to claim it. I knew I couldn’t.
I never saw him again in private. Sometimes, when meeting up with friends, he would be there, but we would pretend nothing happened. I was happy we could pretend to be friends. I was happy no one else knew. From time to time, however, I could see him throw a glance in my direction. It made me wonder what he had done with my jacket.
I wanted to experiment and try something else for a change. My usual short stories are very short, very emotional. This turned out not to be that short. Nonetheless, in my own opinion, it is still very emotional, even though I didn't want it to be in the first place. When I was writing it, however, I got dragged along by the words a bit and I decided for the persona to be as emotional as the words wanted her to be.
I'm sorry if it shocks you. I'm sorry if it offends you. I'm sorry if you think it's too long.
But it made me feel good when I wrote it. Fiction is a great tool to help you paint the walls that you've built around you. It's a great tool to paint the walls inside your head with too. Sometimes, however, it can be considered a hammer, with which those walls are being knocked down. I still have to find out what kind of fiction this is. The paint? Or the hammer?
JUGGLING COKE BOTTLES:
I saw him coming towards me from across the other side of the trottoir. I had just smoked a cigarette and to act as if I hadn’t seen him coming in my direction, I pretended to be busy with pressing the fire out. After doing so, I opened my bag and pulled out of it a bottle of coke light. Unfortunately, I had never been good at opening bottles of soda in an elegant kind of way and this was one of those situations where it couldn’t possibly have looked less elegant. I opened the bottle and half of its contents came spilling out. The jeans I had been wearing, ceased being the spotless white colour they had initially been and as I saw the brown substance soak the fabrics enclosing my legs, I cursed under my breath. Of course I couldn’t remain anonymous this way and he saw me. Before I knew it, he stood right in front of me. He had a mocking look in his eyes, as he scanned my entire being. He did not only look at my body in a shameless way, but he also seemed to look right through me, as if he knew what was going on inside of me. As if he cared.
I shook this idea out of my brain and with an apologising smile, I stated: “Yeah... I’ve never really been good at opening bottles.” I shrugged and leaned in for a kiss. My eyes closed and my lips slightly pursed, I stood there for a couple of seconds, like a fish praying for a bit of air, until I opened my eyes to see he hadn’t moved a bit. He still had that mocking look in his eyes and it seemed to grow profoundly, when he saw how offended I was. He had rejected my lips in the middle of the street, with people looking at us, scrutinising every little thing we did and did not do. For a while, we just stood there, looking at each other. He didn’t move, the only thing that changed slightly, was his mouth. I could see he was trying to hold a smile back. What do you want? I begged him with my eyes. Then he turned around and said: “It’s that way.” Slowly, he turned his upper-body in my direction and gestured me to follow him, with a faint nod of the head. I picked up my bag and followed the mysterious person in front of me.
During the walk, we hardly spoke. He walked in front of me all the time and it felt a bit weird at first. At the moment I got used to the feeling of being ignored, he turned around. I immediately stopped walking as well and looked at him, curious of what he might do next. He stepped forward, in my direction. Every step he placed on the grey pavement, was placed confidently, yet cautiously. It was as if he walked in an incredible tedious slow-motion, but within a blink, his face was merely a couple of inches away from my face. Confused and still a bit offended, although also amused if I’m really honest, I pulled my body back, so I could have a proper look at the person in front of me. He wasn’t very tall; about two inches taller than I was. He had green eyes, with spots of brown in them, and a perfect nose. He had told me once that he had broken it four times, but I couldn’t see it; it was perfect. He had dark blond, curly hair, which he would mess up with his right hand, whenever deep in thought. He had a bit of a beard, not a long one, but one of those that men have when they haven’t shaved for about 5 days. He had big lips. He was chubby. He wore a childish T-shirt with a shark on it and a hole at one of the seems of his right sleeve. Frankly enough… It didn’t bother me. It didn’t even bother me that his right shoe was almost entire ripped from its sole. I could only look at those green eyes, with those tiny brown spots in them. Depending on how good the weather was, his eyes could become more of a mixture between sea-green and gold and whenever I looked into them then, it would feel as if I lost myself and drowned in them...
I felt his lips pressing against my lips. I felt his entire body pressing against mine. I felt his desire and I tried to hide mine, but I felt lost in his grip; I felt lost in his kiss. His hands were everywhere: first, he held my body against his, he pressed our bodies together as if he wanted to melt together, right there and then. Then he held my face, very gently, as if he was making up for the roughness of how the kiss had started out. His hands moved again and he held my head from the back. I felt his fingers run through my hair and his kiss became rougher again. I felt lost, I could hardly breathe and I wanted to get away from there; from him. But there was one thing that I wanted better: staying with him. I decided to let go of the desire and to share it with him. As I decided to do so, his grip softened and he stopped kissing me. He held my head; one of his hands at the back of my head, fingers entangled in my hair, and the other one brushed some hair out of my face. He leaned forward again and whispered something in my ear. “I want to fuck you. Right here, now.” I know, I thought to myself. I looked at him, smiled vaguely and tore myself away from him. “Too bad you need at least two people for that,” I was teasing him. Even though I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do and this would go wrong. But that was what made it interesting. And irresistible.
He grabbed my elbow and pulled me to him. The confidence he did this with, disgusted me. You were the one that rejected me, what do you want?! I turned around and started walking away. “What are you doing? Where are you going?” he shouted after me.
“I don’t care, as long as I’m not with you, you arrogant son of a bitch,” I shouted back.
Before I knew it, he stood in front of me again, holding both of my elbows this time. I felt my head spin and my knees shake. It's never good to feel things like anger, disgust and desire at the same time.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"With me? What is wrong with me?! I'll tell you what's wrong with you, you fucker. From the first time I had you in my sight, I knew that I was going to hate you. I knew you were disgusting and you weren't going to be capable of doing anything that would not make me loathe you. You are revolting and impossible to be around and I can't believe I'm here. What do you want from me?" Shit, I didn't seem to be able to stop talking anymore. Nerves...
Silence.
"What do you want?!" I threw my hands in the air and felt like a whining little child. He was the only person that could make me feel that way; I wasn't that young anymore in the eyes of some and in the eyes of others, I was too young.
He spoke. "I told you. I don't want to give you any wrong impression, it's just physical. Everything you just said, is completely mutual, I can assure you." He drew closer to me and I could feel his breath on my skin. It made me shiver. He whispered in my ear again: "I know you want to fuck me, why would you even bother denying it?" He leaned back and hid little tangles of hair behind my ears. "You know it's going to happen anyway."
"Yes, I do. But having a shown path, doesn't mean I'm following its direction," I answered. He seemed a bit confused.
"Well.. Why are you here, then?" he asked matter-of-factly.
I smiled, leaned in and bit on his lower-lip. "Let's go," I said.
For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but then he smiled and said: "You're such a tease," and followed me.
Arrived at his one-room apartment, I didn't know what to do; it all felt new to me, regardless the fact this wasn't the first time I was alone with a man. I felt his eyes scanning me again and to focus on something else, to feel less nervous, I looked around. On several places, there were juggling balls and against the fridge, stood a couple of clubs. "You can't juggle," I said, more to myself than to him. I turned around to look at him. "Why do you have this stuff?"
He shrugged and started to laugh. "Because I don't juggle, remember?"
"Of course." I bit on my lip. Touche.
I walked around, as far as that was possible, and put down my stuff. I put my coke bottle on the kitchen table and took off my new navy-blue jacket. He reached for my jacket and without thinking about it, I gave it to him and sat down on the bed, absentmindedly. He tried to throw the jacket on one of the cupboards, but instead, it fell on the floor. My new jacket.
"Oh no, you did not just...." I exclaimed, ready to attack him with my words which would remember him of how he disgusted me and of how I really didn't want to be there. Obviously.
Instead of picking my jacket off the floor that didn't seem to have had a proper cleansing in years, he came towards me and pinned me down on the bed. He kissed me roughly and again his hands were everywhere. And on more places. After a couple of minutes of kissing underneath our breaths, he undressed me. It wasn't the romantic, slow kind of undressing, but more like the hasty 'I-want-you-but-we-only-have-10-minutes'-kind of undressing. This is too fast, I thought. He stopped kissing me, at that very moment, and took off my bra in a surprisingly slow manner, while he looked me in the eyes. Oh, fuck it. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him. This time it was I, who was pressing our bodies against each other. I could feel him and didn't want to wait anymore; he didn't seem to be willing to do so either. He pinned my arms down above my head, on the pillow, and started to kiss my entire upper-body. He pressed his soft lips on my skin and before I could take the time to enjoy it, I felt a stinging pain at the place he kissed me. He was biting me.
"Ouch! What the fuck do you think you're doing, dick?!" I sat up and looked at my breast. There was a gigantic red patch on it and my eyes went from my breast to his face, back to my breast, in awe. "What the fuck man! Jesus!"
He answered me with a grin and I saw his head go down again. He laid me down on the bed once more and licked the sensitive spot where he had bitten me and I could feel him smiling against my skin. "I know something fun..." he said to my belly.
"Oh, I bet you do," I moaned. I didn't like this. I wanted to get out of there. But I loved it. What is he doing? I wondered, and I pulled up my head to see what he was doing, but it wasn't necessary. I felt it; he was biting me in the side. It tickled and stung and I didn't know if it felt good or not. I wanted him to stop and I wanted him to go on, I wanted to kick my feet around and scream and I wanted to lie still and be quiet...
I smacked him on the head. Not very hard, but hard enough for him to stop biting me. "What the..." he said, bringing his head up to see what was going on. I slapped him in the face. Again, I didn't slap him very hard; just hard enough for him to know that I didn't want him and I wasn't attracted to him. Or something like that.
"You're a pig. I hate you. Let go of me, you're hurting me."
"I'm becoming a bit insecure when you keep reminding me of the dick I really am," he shot back at me. Ouch, you need quite the confidence to be able to say you're feeling insecure. Did I want to get out of there? Yes. Did I play along and stay anyway? Yes.
"Well, someone has to tell you. Get off me."
"You don't want me to get off you."
"Yes, I do," I tried to fight what I felt. I really tried.
He slapped me in the face. I felt my entire cheek glowing and was speechless for a while. Then something inside of me snapped. It was self-control. I literally felt the self-control flow out of me and ripped off my pants. I tried throwing them on the cupboard, but just like the jacket, it fell on the ground. On the other side of the room, one of the clubs fell down.
"It's hard isn't it?" he said, smiling, under his breath.
I got on top of him and got off his jeans. His T-shirt was off already, but I couldn't remember taking it off. Who cares. I nibbled on his ear and he said: "Stop it. Fuck me."
I ignored him and continued nibbling his ear.
"I'm not kidding, just fuck me already."
When he said that, I sat up. I looked at my watch and then at him. "Hmm.. I think I'd better go."
He sat up too and switched our positions again. He pushed me against the bed and when I tried to get up, he slapped me in the face again. But this time, I liked it. I knew I deserved it; it was what I had been asking for all along, after all. Fine, I'll admit it. Damn it.
When we were done, we did it again. After that, David got up, pulled on a pair of black boxers and picked up the juggling clubs that were standing against the fridge. The one that had fallen down, had rolled away, so he picked up the next best thing he could juggle with, instead of that club. He found my coke bottle and started juggling with it.
I looked at him for a while.
"I take it back."
"Hm?" It looked cute, the way he juggled; wearing nothing but that pair of boxers, sticking the tip of his tongue out of his mouth, in utter concentration.
"You're a true juggler."
I watched him again, for a little while, then he dropped one of the clubs and I had to laugh.
"Is it like, your cigarette after sex or something?!"
"Nah. It's more something to bring me back to reality.." he answered.
I stood up, took a short, steaming hot shower and put on my jacket on the way out. He didn’t hold the door for me, nor did he have the decency to stand up. Why was I so attracted to this asshole?
I walked up to him, he still sat on the edge of his bed. Juggling, of course. I waited for the right moment and when I saw he stuck his tongue out of his mouth a bit again, I snatched one of the things he was juggling with out of the air. It was my coke bottle. To be honest, I was a bit surprised I had actually caught the bottle, as my reflexes aren’t that good, usually. I took the cap off the bottle and put the little opening to my lips. It tasted… Like nothing. It made my face twist and I put the cap back on the opening. He took the bottle from me and pulled me down by my hair, gently. He kissed me. "When am I seeing you again?"
What is this? I thought to myself. He didn’t want to give me any wrong impressions, but what was he doing? Exactly, giving me wrong impressions. But were they wrong? What-is-this?!
“How about.. Never? This was a one-time mistake. I do not know what will happen if we make it again and I do not wish to find out.” I bent over him and kissed him very softly on the corner of his lips. He turned his face away, didn’t look at me. Seeming not to use any breath whatsoever, he said: “You should go then. Otherwise I’d have to make you find out.” He still didn’t look at me. Why do you enjoy hurting me so much? Why do you not care? Why?
Without saying another word, I got my bag and walked towards the door. Door-knob in my hand, I realised something. My coke bottle. I walked back and snatched the bottle from his bed. “That is mine, thank you very much,” I snapped at him. But he didn’t look at me, didn’t seem to hear me.
I stood in the elevator and just before the doors closed, I saw his face, bewildered. He was holding my navy jacket. “Wait, you left your…” But it was too late. The doors had closed before he could finish what he had begun. I loved that jacket, but I knew I would not go back up to claim it. I knew I couldn’t.
I never saw him again in private. Sometimes, when meeting up with friends, he would be there, but we would pretend nothing happened. I was happy we could pretend to be friends. I was happy no one else knew. From time to time, however, I could see him throw a glance in my direction. It made me wonder what he had done with my jacket.
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