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28 Aug

Fitzgerald had it right.

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Late Night Writing

29 Feb

                “Stop, James, stop,’ she said, biting her lip, barely containing her laughter as he tickled her. This is how they had been for a very long time; always playing silly games. James knew, though, that these little flirtatious gestures would never translate to what he wanted. A relationship.

                He rolled over onto his back, and looked up at the ceiling smiling. “You should stop tempting me so much then, Lacey. “ He made a glance over at her, catching the mischievous smile that was now spreading across her face.

                “I will do no such thing,” she said jumping up and on top of him, pinning his hands to the bed.

                “Lacey, you have got to stop doing this, “he said softly, still pinned.

                “What do you mean? What am I doing?”

                “Things that make me want to kiss you,” he said as he rolled her off, pinning her in the same fashion she had him.

                She pushed her head up, quickly, her lips meeting his, and then pulled back just as fast, “well do it then.”

                He looked down at her questioningly before leaning down, and answering her request. Her lips against his felt better than anything he could ever have imagined. Almost like a dream. He pulled away looking at her. Oh crap he thought.

                He woke up.

                Dreams like these were nothing new to James, who had, basically, been in love with the same girl for the past seven years. Unrequited love, if that’s what you want to call it. It’s a hell of a thing and way past the borderline of cliché. It was how it was though, without any chance of being changed in the foreseeable future. He looked over at this alarm clock, noting he had already missed his classes for the day, before rolling out of bed.

                Missing class happened more often than he liked to admit. Another cliché, of the many, that made up the list of his life. He was a senior at a local university whose sports teams sucked. This is important to recognize because it didn’t stop them from jacking up tuition to help fund said teams. Which, in turn, made him question the validity of the higher education learning system. This also ended up with him making exceptionally poor grades; something that never really mattered to James. All he cared about was getting enough credits to graduate so he could leave this town.

                He flicked on the shower sending warm water down his head. What he really wanted to do was travel the world. Yet another cliché, but he wanted to see if the world offered anything more than what this crummy little down did. It was just a plus that traveling would also get him away from Lacey, something that was completely necessary if he had ever hoped to get over her one day. This kind of infatuation was unhealthy. At least that is what his friends told him.

Aside

i miss her so m…

27 Nov

i miss her so much sometimes.

 

3 years yesterday.

no need.

26 Oct

….I am frustrated…

OSSU #7

24 Oct

Things change.

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A Reddit Sunday

23 Oct

I was going to write the next part in my little mini-series on Choice and Consequences but when  I opened up my little Windows Live Writer program I was just not feeling it. That is probably for the best seeing as my brain is nearly fried from staring at a computer screen for the several hours. That blog would have turned out to be nothing more than gibberish, and would most likely ended up being deleted. For instance, as I am typing this, I keep getting distracted by Jude(my cat) running around. He is obviously in his own little world. I guess we have something in common.

So today, as per usual of what happens on my days off, my brain was overflowing with a calamity of different thoughts. One of the reoccurring ones that I kept asking myself is what am I doing? This is a pretty valid question to ask seeing as I have no earthly idea. Are we really suppose to? I know Morgan knows. I mean her job classifications are pretty specific, and she is more or less made for it, but the majority of the people I know have no earthly idea of what there life is developing into. I mean, where do I see myself in a year or two from now? I don’t think it is in this crummy little house, cutting grass for grand mother, working at Publix, and doing the same all over again the next day. I sure as heck don’t see myself work a 9-5 either. I don’t know, an office job just doesn’t suit me. Am I being a little trite by saying so? Probably. But heck I know I wouldn’t be happy in that kind of situation. What does that leave? That’s the rub.

I wish I could travel. I wish I could just go around and see the world. Maybe visit nature, or see ruins of ancient cavitation’s.  All of that sounds so inspirational. I like that sort of thing. For instance, when I go hiking and I get to the top of the mountain and look over the edge at the beauty of what God created something deep in my soul just clicks on. I know that is bad way of describing it, but that’s the best I can. I want more of that. I want to expand myself to more cultures than this that I live in. I want to be boundless.  For a while after Sommer died I was uncertain whether I could do that or not. If I could actually leave. I had always wanted to before all that happened, but after she was gone I felt restrained. It’s a hard place to be put in. How do you tell your family that you want to be gone for months or years at time when they had already lost some one so important. What I decided though was that I can’t let her death dictate my life. Instead it should be an inspiration for how I should live it to the fullest and do what makes me happy. From here on out that is what I plan to do.

I really need to start writing again.  I want to. I have started a couple of different pieces but never really seem to work on them unless I am in class bored. At this rate they will never get done. I really should be utilizing this easy semester by writing as much as possible. I plan to do better about that. Maybe I will schedule a time during the day that all I do is write for an hour. We will see how well that works out.

I keep thinking about her. I just don’t get it. If it really isn’t meant to be then why does everything bring me back to her? Why does it feel like it is? We haven’t talked this weekend. I had gotten use to us talking everyday and was really enjoying it. Maybe I will text her later.

That seems about all I feel like writing now. Peace.

OSSU #6

17 Oct

I am adamant.

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