This isn’t rocket science
This really isn’t complex math
I think you’re pretty and I think you think I’m nice
So I’ll be witty and I’ll try to make you smile
And when I think you think I’m interesting I’ll move and then think twice
cause there is
So much that could go wrong
Within the next few hours
Am I turning you on?
Should I have brought you flowers?
I just want to be sure that what
I thought to be reciprocal is true
So just give me a day to think things through
So I will ask you tomorrow, its just got to be that way,
but I swear I'll make you mine, just on the day after today
And I think we're sharing something I just want to know if you agree
and when I kiss you, I just want to be sure that you'll kiss me
(spoken) because it would be really awkward other wise. I don't think either of us want that.
Pages
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License. If you have a problem with any of the conditions stated, I'm pretty flexible, so contact me.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
a scene I've had in my head for a wile. not my favorite, but I wrote it, so here it is
The beating of my heart was deafening. I crouched, silent as a could be, surrounded by cold walls. It was the closest I could come to being alone, but it wasn't enough. It just wasn't enough.
"Fuck." I thought. "Please don't find me. I'll do anything, just please, please-"
My friend Cole swung open my bathroom door, greeted by the sight of me huddled in the bathtub. He sighed, starring at me disapprovingly.
"Dude. Seriously?"
I held his gaze for a moment before making a bolt for the window. Unfortunately, I was still cramped from the bathtub, and was caught without much effort from Cole.
"Nope!" he said as he grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the door. "Damn it Kyle, it's you're birthday, and you are going to have fun. There are girls down there, dude. GIRLS. Do you know what I had to go through to get actual females to come to this mess you call a home?"
I struggled to free myself. "I just don't see the point..." I muttered.
"Of women?" Cole asked. "Well, there's tits. Those are nice. And making out-"
I manged to get my arm free, but kept walking. There really wasn't any point in resisting.
"You're a pig. And no, not of woman. Of birthday party's. What am I being congratulated for? Being a year closer to death? Managing to push my way out of someones vagina? Almost everyone on Earth has accomplished that.
"Dude, gross."
"You're one to talk."
Cole stopped at the top of the staircase and shook his head. "You seriously need to get laid, bro."
I shoved him a little. "Stop being an asshole."
Cole smacked his forehead frustratedly.
"Exactly!" he sighed. "You turned sixteen today! You're a real teenager now! Its you're fucking social responsibility to act like an asshole! Now. You are going to go downstairs, get wasted on the copious amounts of alcohol I went through hell to procure, and touch a girl inappropriately. No arguments."
I didn't move. "None of that sounds fun."
Cole looked at me for a second, then leaned against the wall. "Seriously Kyle, when was the last time you got laid?"
I looked at him quizzically. "Never. You know that."
Cole threw up his hands and turned away from me in exasperation. "Fuck!"
"What?" I asked, confused. "You've still got your v-card!"
When I said this, Cole looked around, panicked. When he was sure no one had heard me, he grabbed me by the shoulders.
"I know..." He said in a noticeably more quiet voice. "But, had you asked me, I would have said what any other self respecting gentleman would say. 'Oh, I don't know. Its been about three months.'"
"Whats the point of lying like that?"
Cole stepped back. "That's your problem Kyle!" He said excitedly. "You can't stop asking that fucking question! There is no point to any of this! You just do it. Because its fun!"
I thought about this for a second. "Okay." I said. "What if I don't think getting drunk and groping girls is fun?"
"Well, then there's something wrong with you. But lets compromise, okay? At least go down there and talk to people. I'll do enough groping and drinking for the both of us."
"That's both terrifying and reassuring at the same time. But fine. lets go."
Cole smiled at patted me on the back as we walked down stairs. "Happy birthday dude."
I glared at him. He laughed.
"Fuck." I thought. "Please don't find me. I'll do anything, just please, please-"
My friend Cole swung open my bathroom door, greeted by the sight of me huddled in the bathtub. He sighed, starring at me disapprovingly.
"Dude. Seriously?"
I held his gaze for a moment before making a bolt for the window. Unfortunately, I was still cramped from the bathtub, and was caught without much effort from Cole.
"Nope!" he said as he grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the door. "Damn it Kyle, it's you're birthday, and you are going to have fun. There are girls down there, dude. GIRLS. Do you know what I had to go through to get actual females to come to this mess you call a home?"
I struggled to free myself. "I just don't see the point..." I muttered.
"Of women?" Cole asked. "Well, there's tits. Those are nice. And making out-"
I manged to get my arm free, but kept walking. There really wasn't any point in resisting.
"You're a pig. And no, not of woman. Of birthday party's. What am I being congratulated for? Being a year closer to death? Managing to push my way out of someones vagina? Almost everyone on Earth has accomplished that.
"Dude, gross."
"You're one to talk."
Cole stopped at the top of the staircase and shook his head. "You seriously need to get laid, bro."
I shoved him a little. "Stop being an asshole."
Cole smacked his forehead frustratedly.
"Exactly!" he sighed. "You turned sixteen today! You're a real teenager now! Its you're fucking social responsibility to act like an asshole! Now. You are going to go downstairs, get wasted on the copious amounts of alcohol I went through hell to procure, and touch a girl inappropriately. No arguments."
I didn't move. "None of that sounds fun."
Cole looked at me for a second, then leaned against the wall. "Seriously Kyle, when was the last time you got laid?"
I looked at him quizzically. "Never. You know that."
Cole threw up his hands and turned away from me in exasperation. "Fuck!"
"What?" I asked, confused. "You've still got your v-card!"
When I said this, Cole looked around, panicked. When he was sure no one had heard me, he grabbed me by the shoulders.
"I know..." He said in a noticeably more quiet voice. "But, had you asked me, I would have said what any other self respecting gentleman would say. 'Oh, I don't know. Its been about three months.'"
"Whats the point of lying like that?"
Cole stepped back. "That's your problem Kyle!" He said excitedly. "You can't stop asking that fucking question! There is no point to any of this! You just do it. Because its fun!"
I thought about this for a second. "Okay." I said. "What if I don't think getting drunk and groping girls is fun?"
"Well, then there's something wrong with you. But lets compromise, okay? At least go down there and talk to people. I'll do enough groping and drinking for the both of us."
"That's both terrifying and reassuring at the same time. But fine. lets go."
Cole smiled at patted me on the back as we walked down stairs. "Happy birthday dude."
I glared at him. He laughed.
And so it begins.
Hi.
If you don't already know this (though you probably you do, I can't imagine anyone who doesn't know me ever reading this), my name is Chris. I just turned seventeen, I live in a state that starts with N (my mother is big on privacy), and most importantly, I just (as of writing this, July 22, 2010) got a new Mac Book Pro. Now don't get me wrong, its a really nice computer, and it has almost everything I would want in one. Movie editing stuff, a good internet connection, even photo booth, for hours of fun you're later ashamed of. But there's one thing that's missing, that frankly, shouldn't be. A word processor. That's right. It comes without MS Word, or even Pages. All its got is text edit, which is just downright depressing.
Now.
There are a few ways I could deal with this. The easy way would be to just ask my parents for a copy of Word. That would be pretty reasonable, considering their both educaters and could get it for cheep.
But I have a better idea.
For the next (I'm still not sure how long I'm going to do this), this blog will be my word processor. EVERYTHING that I write, be it short story, song lyric, list of interesting hats, or other, will be posted on this blog (as long as its not a collaboration that the other party wants to keep private).
Basically what I'm saying is that this will be exactly like the millions of other blogs that just post random bullshit. But this one is justified. Sort of.
If you don't already know this (though you probably you do, I can't imagine anyone who doesn't know me ever reading this), my name is Chris. I just turned seventeen, I live in a state that starts with N (my mother is big on privacy), and most importantly, I just (as of writing this, July 22, 2010) got a new Mac Book Pro. Now don't get me wrong, its a really nice computer, and it has almost everything I would want in one. Movie editing stuff, a good internet connection, even photo booth, for hours of fun you're later ashamed of. But there's one thing that's missing, that frankly, shouldn't be. A word processor. That's right. It comes without MS Word, or even Pages. All its got is text edit, which is just downright depressing.
Now.
There are a few ways I could deal with this. The easy way would be to just ask my parents for a copy of Word. That would be pretty reasonable, considering their both educaters and could get it for cheep.
But I have a better idea.
For the next (I'm still not sure how long I'm going to do this), this blog will be my word processor. EVERYTHING that I write, be it short story, song lyric, list of interesting hats, or other, will be posted on this blog (as long as its not a collaboration that the other party wants to keep private).
Basically what I'm saying is that this will be exactly like the millions of other blogs that just post random bullshit. But this one is justified. Sort of.
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