The Slow Decay of Me

I am now Twenty-Five years of age, and have no plans to bother to update my bios where my age is listed, because I would have to update other aspects of the bios and I can't be bother to sit and do that.

The StrangeAThon is in full swing. It's going better than last time because I'm not sick and not currently having a fare up (Knock on Wood).

I don't know what I'm doing right now. I'm also not sure if I should make plans with everything is going on. It doesn't seem a good time to start anything. I feel like I should, because I'm getting closer to the grave and who wants to wait for the academic year to restart. The thing I'm thinking of applying to but I'm not sure if its for me. I don't know if I should just go for it. I have little time to apply though.

Basically, I'm at Quarter stage of my life. Crises have gotten boring. I don't know what I'm doing.

I still want to be a writer, an published author, but I'm still not writing. I have a YA book idea that's contemporary which never happens to me. Magic has to steep in somehow. That's just who I am as a person.

Well I'm off to try and do something else while ignoring the lack of poster last week. Being 24 was pretty uneventful anyway.

No Longer 12 (with short thing Blood & Bouquet)

This is my last post as 21 year old. That in a lot of ways doesn't mean a thing. It just means that I will never officially aged that number or combination of numbers again. I don't care, I'm at that age of not caring and not just because I'm depressed. Though, I still haven't let go of comparing myself to people doing stuff at my age that's impressive while I'm doing nothing. When I get published I'm going to go with my reading age because my mental one would be hard to calculate. I've forced myself to write something, it's dumb and insignificant.

I want you to read it with the knowledge that I curled my hair last night with curlers and my hair reflects that.

Blood & Bouquet

He gave me the flowers before saying anything. I stare at him confused and then look down at the purple, variety of flowers that I didn’t know the names of. The only smash of any other colour was minor in the form of a burgundy rose in the centre. I tried to hand him the flowers back, but he lifted his hands away.

I pulled them back to me, I examined them. They’re untypically dark for a bouquet. They’re pretty, I guess, but I still don’t want them. I separate my hands and put them to the side, still holding on to the flowers haphazardly in my right hand.

He clasps my face, I feel numb, Tomash is being so odd and now I feel odd. He slipped his tongue into my mouth, I don’t respond. It’s almost like I can’t move. Was it the flowers? He continues moving his tongue between my lips. It’s not really a kiss, more like he’s tasting me, like a lolly pop.

He bites down on my lips, hard. I flinch back from the pain. Blood dips down my lips. He pulls my head back towards him and licks the blood from my chin to my lips. He holds my head tight as he takes my bottom lips between his teeth and bites down, drawing out more blood. He lifts up to start sucking.

I scan around us with my eyes, wondering if anyone can see us. I can’t see anyone, but the edges of Tomash face blocked my view of the street. I really want this stop, but my body doesn’t feel the same urgency of my mind. I’m trying to pull away, except the signs don’t seem to be flashing.

He lets go of me, causing me to throw myself back, hitting the street lamp. I crumple down, onto the pavement. He moves away and walks down the street like nothing has happened. The pain in my back has distracted me from the blood that dripping both into my month and down my chin. I hit my spin pretty good. I’m still holding on to the flowers. I pulled them into my lap and grip onto them with both hands like a bride.

They’re still perfect, except for the drip of blood that falls onto them as I examine its petals.

I’m sitting under lamp with mouthful of blood and handful of flowers. This is not how I thought my Saturday would start.

***

Tomash was a name made up on the spot, because Tom was boring. I think it might actually be a Japanese last name.  I'm going driving and to make pastry.

20th Birthday *half-hearted whoop*

So today is my Birthday. Well, not actually. I'm really writing this from yesterday. Right now I'm still teen, but when you read this I shan't be anymore. Its sort of all Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey, isn't it?

I guess some of you might be wondering what I plan to do on my Birthday. Well, the answer is obvious. I'm going to be in two shows today. I've spent every night being in a Production of Beauty and the Beast the past week and week before rehearsing it everynight but Saturday that week. Tonight's performance will actually be the last. So seconded year in a row I've been doing something for the last time on my Bday.

I sort of realised, I mean I was sort of knew I would associate my Birthday with this, that I be able to count how many years since I left school by taking 19 out whatever age I am. So its a year since I left school, it doesn't feel a like a year. I missed the variety of school. College seems rather boring so far and I haven't learned much.

Two of my sibling are showing up today, mainly to see the show.My older brother was annoyed to find out that no one had invite him to see the show. Frankly, though it my birthday and he said nothing about that until the show came up. I should probably just unfriend the bugger.

I don't know if my sibling coming today to see it was such a smart idea. Just because the two shows and the stress of it all.

Its terrible Doctor Who is on, on my birthday and I won't be able to watch it till Sunday probably.

So I'm off to listen to songs about teenagers while I'm still in that age range.