#follow the dopamine until ya forget to do something
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I will be screen recording my next magazine edit! Posting as a way to hold my adhd forgetful ass accountable
Me @ myself rn:
#xdinary heroes#xdh#xdh villains#jungsu#kim jungsu#junhan#jun han#han hyeongjun#i need to remember shit#follow the dopamine until ya forget to do something#someone remind me#please and thank
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🧡Orange Kisses Part 2🧡
dewey finn x reader
heyoo my guys!! this is part two to mines and @thewolfisapartofmysoul little dewey finn x reader fic!! this is a super cute and fluffy piece and we hope you all love it hehe🥰
Are you lost?
Orange kisses Part one
and as always this beautiful aesthetic was made by the amazing @thewolfisapartofmysoul
“I have a surprise for you”
You knitted your eyebrows and went to speak but Dewey jumped up and you followed suit confused. He began walking over towards his van and your eyes follow him, but he stops and looks at you, grinning to himself. His arms are out reaching towards his scarf that he had situated around your neck. You look down at his hands as they begin to pull the scarf up and over your eyes. “no peeking” he giggles as you hear him walk back towards the van.
You smirk as you hear him fumble around the van doing who knows what, “you trying to kidnap me Mr. Finn?” you joke. You could hear his smile through his words “no but I’m gonna steal your doggo, c’mere gussy boy, c’mere”. You could hear Gus’ paws crunch on the autumn leaves, galloping towards Dewey before they abruptly stopped.
You were anxious. What on earth had he done? A Surprise? You heard him wince as he banged his head on assumingly the roof of the van or something. What was this boy up to? “ok I think that’s it” he started to walk back over to you nervously. “stay boy, stay” he said to Gus. What the hell?
Suddenly you could feel his breath on your skin as his hands touched the scarf. You could smell that sweet Dewey smell again and it settled your nerves, but brought back the butterflies in your stomach.
“okay, you ready?” he questioned with an skittish grin plastered on his face. “I mean as ready as I’ll ever be” you chuckle apprehensively. You could feel Dewey’s energy in the cool air. He was keen, but you could also feel how nervous he was. He gave off this excitable yet flustered vibe.
Dewey slowly removes the scarf from your eyes and the first thing you notice are those gorgeous chocolate brown eyes glistening in the setting sun, paired with the most beautiful goofy grin plastered on his face. You could easily get lost in those eyes.
But suddenly they shifted to the side before bouncing back to you, leading you to the van. You knitted your eyebrows lightly and followed his gaze towards the van.
What initially captured your attention was the twinkling fairy lights, which led your whole body around to face the van. Your eyes lit up as they absorbed the rest of the sight in front of you. It was magical.
Dewey had (attempted to) hang little fairy lights all around the inside of the van. The twinkling LED’s cast a beautiful orange, warm, candle glow around the whole of the inside of the van. They illuminated the white duvet that had been placed in the middle of the van, on top of a bunch of other cosy bright blankets and soft comforters.
On top of those was an array of pretty pillows and coushin’s. They were all spread across the back and sides of the van and they were captivating. It was stunning. So warm, and cute. And of course, to top it off, your beautiful boy Gus was laying in the middle, on top of the duvet, looking like one cosy pupper.
Dewey hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. He wanted to witness exactly how your features changed as you took in everything he had set up for you. He was nervous as shit. He felt like maybe is was too much too fast? But then was it? So many thoughts flew around his head. Would you like it? Would you think it was weird? Maybe he should just run for the hills out of embarrassment.
But all of those thoughts faded away as he watched your eyes light up, and how the corners of your mouth gradually creeped up in to one of the biggest and most beautiful smiles had ever witnessed. “w-whadda ya think?”.
You continued to look at the little romantic scene in awe “Dewey its.. it’s perfect” you replied breathlessly. You turn and look at his bashful, goofy face and you feel emotions you never have before.
“I mean I-“ he was cut off as you flung your arms around his neck and put yourself flush against his body, your lips finding his instantly. You could feel him smile into the kiss, and the way he started to relax in your grip, feeling relieved. He chuckles as his hands find your waist, happy to feel your lips against his again.
You pull away from him slightly, “thank you.. I love it” you smile sweetly. The bashful look on Dewey’s face would make you melt like butter. His rosy cheeks, and crinkled sparkling eyes, paired with slightly knitted brows and a side smile. You mentally snapped a pic of how cute and bashful he looked in the setting sun.
Suddenly though he pulls away from you “no wait! It gets better!” he exclaims as he bounces over and sits on the end of the van. You chuckle and make your way over to him, standing in front of where he was sitting.
He picks up a rucksack, hidden in the side of the van, behind a few pillows and starts to pull things out. “in here we have the best bit.. I have marshmallows to toast on the fire, popcorn, M&M’s, some hotdogs for dinner and- ooh! Some treats and a can of dog food for Gussie boy!” he turns round and gives Gus a quick scratch on the end and one of the treats “and that’s just for existing bud and being so awesome”. Gus licks his face, “couldn’t forget the best boy could I”.
You smile at how sweet he is to Gus, but you do notice the one bed situation, and the lack of pyjamas to sleep in.
You fold your arms and raise your eyebrow playfully, smirking “only one bed Finn?”. Dewey places the bag back down and goes all flustered and fumbles over his words “uh-uh yeah b-but only cuddles, I promise!”, his little cheeks tinting red. But you had a rule, no hooking up or anything until at least the 5th date. And that was with all guys. And only if the situation felt right. But sweet cuddles with Dewey under the stars? You could let it slide this time since he had went to all this bother for you.
“a-and I even brought you one of my t-shirts and a pair of joggers for you to sleep in see!” Dewey holds up a Led Zeppelin band t-shirt and some grey sweatpants. You smiled at his thoughtfulness, “that’s sweet but I’ll definitely be taking that hoodie you have on so I don’t freeze to death you joke.
“you stealing from me again?” Dewey jokes as you raise your eyebrow. “first my heart, now my hoodie, what’s next? My last name?” he winks, trying to be charming, jokingly of course. You laugh at him and how goofy he is. “naaah I’m just kidding- plenty of time for that” he teases as he pulls your hands so you’re in between his legs as he is situated on the end of the van.
He intertwines his hands with yours as he gazes up into your eyes “you know, when I talk to you, it’s like talking to my best friend, except.. you know, I like you and I get to kiss you and stuff” he says sheepishly.
“you don’t say” you joke as you lean down to kiss him, smiling against his lips.
* * * * *
The night had been perfect, you guys toasted marshmallows, Dewey played guitar for a little while and you had a little cuddle and a make out session under the stars. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect date. You could feel yourself falling for this dude, hard. He was so kind to you, and amazing to Gus. How did you get so lucky?
You snickered when you came back into the van after your bathroom break. Well... with a lack of bathroom... never mind.
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight before you. Dewey had tucked Guss in the bed too... his furry body all under the warm sheets and his nose stuck out on the pillow.
You looked sternly at Dewey, who had a guilty look on his face. "Hey beautiful... we couldn't leave prince Gus in the cold now, could we?"
You rolled your eyes but glanced at your two boys again... and both looked incredibly happy and cozy. You couldn’t decide which one was your favourite at the moment... the love you held for both was equal.
You sighed and gave in with a smile and a "...Sure boys..." Dewey cheered and fist bumped with Gus. His nose touched his hand when he held up the knuckle towards your doggo and you snickered. When the hell did he had time to teach him that?!
You crawled in the improvised bed, craving the warmth that was under the sheets after being in the cold autumn chill for a second. You relished in the comfort of 'your boys'... Dewey on your left, and Gus in your right. You wrapped your arms around Dewey and enjoyed the comforting heat that radiated from his skin. Gosh... that was indeed one hot rock star... you thought to yourself.
Dewey automatically returned the embrace, wrapping his hands around your lower back, pulling you close, while he threw his leg over yours. He nuzzled his nose at the crook of your neck, and you giggled when his scruff tickled the sensitive skin there. Dewey sleepily trailed little kisses from your neck to your ear. Your neck always was a highly 'sensitive' area... but of course the dork that hugged you was oblivious by that.
You rolled your eyes when you noticed you held your breath to suppress a moan and you cursed yourself for breaking your own rule. Annoyance at yourself and a flutter in your lower stomachache at the exact same moment. You were slightly relieved as well as dissapionted when the kissing stopped, Dewey’s dark voice filled in the silence when he mumbled: "Hey babe...?"
You hummed softly in response and Dewey continued: "Can i tell you something? Promise you won't laugh?" You hummed again and Dewey whispered softly in your ear: "You erhm... you make all my dopamine levels go silly..."
You laughed and turned to face Dewey. His hands moved immediately to your hips once you were comfortable again, like they belonged there. Dewey gazed into your eyes and you reached out to play with his hair. Dewey mumbled again, still holding your eyes with his piercing soft gaze: "You remind me of mac and cheese..." You giggled and looked at his gleeful mischievous smile: "How so, champ?" Dewey kissed the tip of your nose and continued: "...I love mac and cheese..."
You rolled your eyes and kissed his lips through your smile, his thumbs tracing circles at your hips. You mumbled through kisses: "What are you trying to tell me Dewey? Try to tell me something romantic..." Dewey pulled back, looked at you with a smug smile and with a wink he replied: "I think you're pretty rad." Gus perked his head up and whined a bit at Dewey's words. You chuckled and whispered to your doggo: "Iknow gussie-boy... he's trying." Dewey quickly replied in a British-Gus-voice: "Well mom... i kind of like this one. He tugs me in and makes you laugh, can we keep him?"
You were full on laughing right now, threw your head on his shoulder when you lost your shit. This... this man... he really sucked with expressing feelings. But you wouldn't care... you were right were you belonged. Between your two favourite boys in the world. And there wasn't a place you would rather be right now.
Dewey’s hands traced light patterns on your arms. You shivered at the combination of his intense gaze and his soft strokes. Cursing and welcoming the movements at the same time. Butterflies and giddiness bubbling in your stomach.
You kissed Dewey again. And again. And again. And brushed his scruffy cheek with your hand, you looked at him fondly and mumbled to him: "Mac and cheese huh?" Dewey let out a low chuckle in response.
You turned your head to stage-whisper to Gus "Yeah... i think we can keep him kiddo..." Gus yawned and licked your nose. You turned back to face Dewey, crawled into his warm embrace again and lulled into his ear: "I think you are pretty rad yourself as well... mister Finn..."
He brushed his calloused fingers through your hair and kissed your forehead: "Pfeww... lucky me... time to get some shut-eye my angel..." He pulled you even closer and mumbled sleepy in your hair: "Goodnight love. Goodnight Gussie." Just before your eyes welcomed the heavy sleep, you managed to mumble back in his shoulder: "...mmyeah... Goodnight my boys..."
Curious what tomorrow's adventures would bring you. Well... for now you were more then content nuzzling in Dewey’s arms with Gus at your feet, in the warm cozyness of Dewey's improvised camper van.
This already was the best date ever. 'Dewey was indeed something special...' your mind told you before you drifted off, safely surrounded by your boys.
Tags: @little-miss-shy-goth @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @missihart23 @geminiacally @go-commander-kim @gegehaddock @baby-beej @sadpuppetshows @hoodoo12 @large-unit @thats-specific @vicunaburger @stranger-strings @bugdrinkss @sheinassheina @demonwifey
#dewey#dewey finn#dewey finn x reader#school of rock the musical#Alex Brightman#cute#Beetlejuice#beetlejuice the musical#fluff
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London Boy || Joe Mazzello x Ben Hardy
Author’s Note: Written for @borhapbois for the Bohemian Rhapsody Summer Event 2020. I loved the prompts that you gave me and I really enjoyed writing it. I hope you like it too :)
Summary: Joe and Ben meets each other via an anonymous app. What turns into a fun conversation, turns into a friendship leads to something else.
Inspired by the song London Boy by Taylor Swift and a few true events.
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Here we go...
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I saw the dimples first ....
"You're making me smile", came the reply from Ben as Joe described how gorgeous he looked in the picture the Ben sent. "I wish I could see that.", Joe texted back. "If it weren't for the 5000 miles between us, I'd ask you out right now.", Joe added. "Really?", Ben asked. "Of course.", Joe said. "I could hug you right now.", came Ben's reply. "Same.", Joe replied, "What's your ideal first date?", Joe asked. "Hmmm. A classy meal and then maybe cocktails and an evening walk by the river or something.", Ben said. "Noted.", Joe said. "What's yours?", Ben asked. "Drinks. Dinner and dancing.", Joe replied. "Dancing, really?", Ben asked. "Oh yea. I'm taking you dancing. Probably won't be sober much. And that's probably for our best.", Joe replied. "I can't wait to meet you, Joseph.", replied Ben. "Me too. Hopefully soon.", Joe texted back.
....and then I heard the accent....
The quarantine kept them apart distance-wise, but the both were constantly in touch with each other. Texting, calling and an occasional virtual date until one day during conversation Ben asked, "What if I asked you to be my boyfriend right now?" Ben saw a smile creep on Joe's lips before he took a sip of the coffee. "You should ask me and find out.", Joe replied shrugging his shoulder trying not to smile. "Will you be my boyfriend? I mean it will be long distance for a while and...", Ben said when Joe interrupted, "Yes!" Ben's eyes grew wide, "Yes-yes?", he asked again. "Yes-yes", said Joe nodding vigorously as he gave that toothy grin of his. "We're boyfriends. Oh my god, I can't believe it.", Ben said excitedly. "That needs some getting used to.", Joe said still smiling. "Well get used to it, boyfriend.", Ben said. Joe gave a laugh.
....They say home is where the heart is....
Ben was woken up from his sleep with a series of text notifications, Ben rubbed his eyes and took the phone squinting at the bright light and saw Joe's name on the screen and a series of texts.
And then came a call from Joe and shriek from the other side, "Are you up?". "Clearly.", said Ben rubbing his eyes and asked, "What's got you so excited this morning?" "My tickets got confirmed. I'm coming to London.", Joe said practically squealing. "Oh my god! That's amazing. When are you getting here?", Ben said excitedly. "Friday afternoon. I got the hotel reservations and everything sorted out. And I have you to-", Joe said when Ben interrupted, "Hold on a sec. You booked a hotel room? No. You're not gonna stay in some hotel. No, you are gonna stay right here in my place." "But-", Joe started. "That wasn't a suggestion, babe. You're gonna stay with me and that's the end of it.", Ben said. "Alright I'll cancel my reservation. Happy?", Joe asked. "Very. And send me your flight details. I'll pick you up from the airport.", Ben said, "We're finally seeing each other. Oh my god. It's about time.", he added. "You read my mind. I'm so excited. I'm gonna go pack. Call you later babe.", Joe said and said, "Love ya Benny." "Love you too.", Ben replied and they hung up.
Joe: Ben
Joe: Ben!
Joe: Ben!!
Joe: BEN!!!!!!!
Joe: Benjamin
Joe: Wake up!!
Joe: Wake up wake up wake up wake up!!!
Ben: I'm up now.
****
"Are you sure you got everything?", Ben asked as Joe walked around his house while holding the phone in front of his face. "Yes Ben. I got everything. Stop worrying.", Joe said. "I'm just excited.", Ben said. "You don't say.", Joe said smirking and took a seat on the couch. "When is the cab getting there?", Ben asked. "In a couple minutes.", Joe said. "You have to text me once you have checked in and boarded. And call me or text me when you land.", Ben said. "Ben, you need to calm down. We've been over this. I got this and I'll keep you updated.", Joe said. "It's just-", Ben said. "I know Benny, I am excited too. And again, we'll see in a couple hours. Okay?", Joe told and Ben nodded. "Cab's here.", Joe announced, "Gotta run. Love ya, byee", Joe said and hung up the video call right after Ben said goodbye.
****
Joe collected his luggage and followed the trail of people towards the exit. His excitement and nervousness rising every step on the way. Outside the gate, Joe's eyes searched for his boyfriends and there he was, Ben, scanning everyone going in front of him until Ben's green eyes met Joe's eyes as Joe walked towards the exit to finally unite with his soulmate, his boyfriend. Everything was happening fast, it felt like the world was moving too fast around him . And what seems like eternity passes by the time Joe is in front of Ben and a moment passes before the two of them hug each other. Joe lets out a sigh of relief as the dopamine spikes. The two of them finally pulls away unable to hide their smiles. "Hello boyfriend", Ben says. "Hello yourself", Joe replies. "You know you're grinning like an idiot, right?", Ben said as led the way to his car. "You're one to talk.", Joe replied. Ben opened the car trunk and Joe proceeded to take his luggage when Ben held Joe's hand and told, "Let me." and let go off him. Ben could feel Joe's eyes on him as he put the bags in the car and closed the trunk and turned to face Joe who immediately said, "What a gentleman." with a hand over his chest. "Oh shove it", Ben said and moved around the car to get in as Joe did the same.
Joe: Landed
Ben: I'm right outside the gate
"Ready to go?", Ben said. "Yes.", Joe said putting on his seat belt. "Are you sure you're not forgetting something?", Ben asked as he started driving out of the airport. "I know exactly what you mean. And no, I didn't forget. I'd much rather talk to you, we can always listen to the song later.", Joe asked. "Wow. I am actually moved that you chose to talk to me over listening to 'Somebody To Love', than listening to Queen. You must really love me then.", Ben said. "You're unbelievable. Of course I do love you. More than Queen? Hmm let me think about it. Nope. But you're getting there.", as Joe finished Ben pulled over the car. "I'm just kidding", Joe said. And Ben started driving again. "So how was your flight?", Ben asked. "Oh it was good. Slept for the most part you know to balance the timezone and whatever. So, good.", Joe answered and asked, "What are we doing today?" "I thought we could go out for a drink if you're up for it or we can stay in and order something in.", Ben said. "Drinks it is.", Joe said. "Alright. I know a great place where we can go.", Ben said. "Perfect.", said Joe and started fiddling with the audio system of the car. "I knew you could't hold off for that long.", Ben said chuckling. "It's not my fault that it is a great song. It's a freaking masterpiece. And I know you know that.", Joe said finally clicking the play button on his phone. The car filled with Freddie's vocals as the two of them sang along.
A few singalong's and a drive later, Ben opened the door and carried in Joe's bag, "Welcome to my humble abode. It's not too much but you know that already from our video calls." "Like I said then and I'm saying it again, you've got a lovely home.", Joe said smiling, "Where can I put these away?", Joe said pointing to his bags. "I'll take care of those. After I give you a tour of the house. Come on.", Ben said extending his hand to Joe, which he definitely took and Ben walked around the house showing Joe around everywhere including the small backyard and finally they ended up in Ben's bedroom. "I've left you some towels on the bed. And you know where the bathroom is. I'll be in the living room. You need to freshen up after the flight.", Ben said. "Ookayy", Joe responded and Ben left the room.
A few moments later Joe went out to the living room wearing a khaki pants, white shirt tucked in and a navy blue sweater over the shirt. "Wow don't you look handsome", said Ben taking a look at Joe. "Thank you very much.", Joe replied. "Let's get going", Ben said hopping up from his seat on the couch. "Hold on a minute. You're going out dressed like this?", Joe said pointing at Ben's t-shirt and baggy jeans. "What's wrong with it?", Ben asked. "It's too home-y", Joe said. "Alright I'll change. Be right back.", Ben said and went to his room.
"Joe, could you get the door please? Joe!", Ben shouted from the bedroom as the doorbell kept ringing. "Joe?", shouted as Ben came into living room searching for Joe who was nowhere to be seen and finally opened the door to reveal Joe standing at the doorway smiling with his right hand behind his back. "Whatcha got there buddy?", Ben asked. "Oh this", Joe said bringing his hand to the front which was holding a bunch of red roses, "These. These are for you." "And I thought you weren't a romantic.", Ben said and immediately hugged Joe. "Can we go inside now?", asked Joe. "Why? Are you cold?", asked Ben with a puzzled look straightening Joe's jacket with hands. "Oh no. I think your neighbor is coming to get me for these.", Joe nearly finished the sentence and Ben pulled Joe inside the house. "I'm gonna put these in some water", Ben said taking the flowers and walked towards the kitchen getting the clear vase on the counter and filled the vase and said, "So my "home-y clothes" were an excuse for you to slip out, huh?" "Oh no. I actually meant it. Those baggy jeans didn't do any justice those thighs.", Joe said gesturing hands to Ben's thighs. "Shut it. You're embarrassing me.", Ben said his cheeks reddening. "What?? I'm just stating the obvious.", Joe said, "And as your boyfriend, I am allowed to talk about your thighs." "Thank you my darling.", Ben said face still red. "You're welcome. Can we go?", Joe asked. "Yea let's go.", Ben said and got the keys to the house.
The bar was right around the corner, so the boys decided to enjoy the London weather which was quite chilly but not too cold for them to walk. Ben, usually being the shy one, was talking non-stop about his neighborhood, Joe smiled and quietly listened to Ben's accent (which is to die for).
For a Friday evening, the bar was not too crowded, the boys took a step inside, Joe looked around to see a couple on stage performing "Purple Rain" . "Oh man! We're late. We're supposed to be singing that.", Joe said. "Oh no we're not singing. I'm terrible at it.", Ben said as the two walked towards any empty table. "Who's spreading these lies? Have you heard yourself sing? Because I have.", Joe said a taking his seat. "Wh-when did I sing? I don't remember.", Ben said. "Remember one night when, I told you to hold the call one day when I went to lock the front door. You were singing while holding.", Joe said and sang imitating Ben, "This thing called love" "I didn't know you heard that.", Ben said. "Oh baby, I always listen.", Joe said right before the waitress came over, "What can I get you guys?", the girl said making eyes at both Ben and Joe. "I'll have a scotch on the rocks", Ben said. "And we'll four tequila shots each with lime.", Joe said for which Ben gave an impressive sort of expression and said, "The fish and chips they have here is to die for. We're gonna have two of those too.", Ben said and smiled at the girl who was taking the order. "Alright.", she said and left. "Are you trying to get me drunk?", Ben asked. "No babe. I wouldn't dream of it." and the waitress came back with the drinks, "Enjoy", she said. Joe raised a shot glass and Ben mirrored the action, "To our first date", said Joe and Ben repeated, "To us." and they took the shot. And so it began.
Five shots and a meal later, Joe banging on the table, "So you are saying you have never ever ever ever done it? It's impossible. You must have done it at least once.", Joe said. "No not even once.", Ben said. "Well then you are now.", Joe said and stood up, "Come on." "Where to?", Ben asked. "We're going to rectify the situation right now.", Joe said. "Hold on.", Ben said and chugged on the leftover Scotch and let out a growl, "Let's do this." "Woo", Joe said loudly. The both walked to nearer to the small stage on the other side of the bar. "Mr. Karaoke Man", Joe said and Ben started laughing attracting the attention of the guy who was sitting behind a laptop casually jamming to the music in the bar. "See my boyfriend here", Joe said pointing both his thumb to Ben, "Never did a karaoke EVER." "Never ever ever", added a drunk Ben from the side. "Could you play..", Joe snapped out of the sentence, "Wait what would we sing?", Joe said blinking at Ben. "We'll ask Karaoke Man.", Ben said and Joe turned to the young man. "How about 'Bohemian Rhapsody'?", the guy asked. And Ben said a series of loud "yes'" and practically leaped onto the stage and almost tripped, "I'm okay", said Ben into the mic which he was given just then. Just then the karaoke started playing.
A roar of applause and cheers concluded the singing. "Benny boy", Joe said. "Joey", Ben replied. "If I could sing a song for you now, do you know which one I'd sing for you?", Joe said sinking into the chair. "Which one?", Ben said. "LIAR!", Joe said causing Ben to raise his eyebrows, "What you said you don't sing and you just gave a Grammy worthy performance. You know what, if Queen ever decide to do a biopic we should audition.", Joe said clapping and took his glass of whiskey. "First of all, you're drunk", Ben said taking Joe's glass away causing Joe to whine. "Second, I'm taking you home. Because you're wasted." "And you aren't.", Joe said. "You had too much. Come on off we go.", Ben said getting up and giving Joe a hand. Joe gets up and puts an arm over Ben's shoulder. "Wow you're pumped. Jeez!", Joe said squeezing Ben's bicep. "Ohh stop it.", Ben said walking towards the bar. "Ooh I'm paying.", Joe said. "You can't even stand", Ben said. "I'm good, I can stand. Joe's a big boy.", Joe said. "Okay big boy.", Ben said and Joe almost fell onto the counter, "Whoa!", Joe said holding onto the counter's edge and took out his wallet and gave a card, "Here you go". "Sir, this is an ID card.", the girl said. "Oops", Joe said putting back his card and gave another. "You're wasted.", Ben said. "No I'm not.", Joe said. "Or so you say.", Ben said, "Let's get going." Ben put an arm over Joe so that Joe could walk properly. "Next time, I'm ordering the drinks.", Ben said walking out the door.
The boys were walking down the street towards Ben's block when there was a crowd gathered right around the corner and music filling the cold air of the night. As they were almost going to pass the street when Joe stood right there next to the crowd. "Oh come on. Let's get those moves out", Joe said and started dancing. "Oh this is too good.", Ben said taking out his phone and started filming Joe dance around him. Few people from the crowd joined in on the dancing, making it more lively when Joe pulled on Ben's hand, "Come on. Loosen up baby!" and pulled Ben into the group.
A song later, the boys were back to walking back home with Joe still hanging onto his boyfriend's shoulder, walking zig-zag on the sidewalk. "Have I told you that I worked on a movie called 'Dear Sidewalk'?", Joe said rather loudly. "You might've mentioned it once.", Ben said, "We're here. Home sweet home." walking towards the doorway. "Can you stand?", Ben asked leaning Joe, who was half sleep and mostly still drunk, on the wall. Joe nodded and hummed, "Mm-hm" while Ben fished out the house keys from his pocket and struggled to unlock the door under the dim porch light. Joe kept mumbling something inaudibly while Ben was unlocking the door. Once Ben opened the door, Ben walked Joe inside the house and locked the front door.
"Let's get you ready for bed now, shall we?", Ben said. Joe spoke with a sudden energy, "Now we talking." Ben rolled his eyes and said, "Oh my god. Just sit down on the bed." Joe sat down as he was told and Ben knelt at his foot to remove Joe's shoes followed by his socks and threw them to the side. He stood up and leaned over to pull Joe's sweater over his head after clearing Joe's pockets and put the sweater on the chair beside. "Do you wanna keep your shirt on?", Ben asked. Joe shook his head sleepily and Ben started unbuttoning Joe's shirt, "Not how I thought this would go", Joe mumbled as Ben took the shirt off and threw it along with the sweater. "Okay I'll be right back." Joe just nodded sleepily.
When Ben reemerged to his room, he saw Joe sleeping on one side of his bed. Ben slid under the covers and wrapped his arms around Joe spooning Joe and Joe said, "I love you", putting his hand over Ben's and Ben whispered to Joe's ears, "I love you too."
.....But that's not where mine lives ❤️
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Tags: @thosequeenboys @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @brinteylovesaliens @mazzell-ro @amethyst-serenade @hardzelloqueen @stewielover95 @captaincoffeegirl515 @detectivecutiepantsandhisbabyfox @hellysthings
If you wanna be in the tags or be removed from it, DM me.
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DRONE3
DRONe3
.<0_O> — — µ — <_<)))) DRONe³ And other Poems and writings by James McFarlane Telepath/Necromancer James McFarlane·Friday, May 18, 2018 . Telepath may 2018 Pencil sharp, smoke a dart early morning engines start Crescent moon blue grass tunes frost on the window and my spoon. Dopamine and serotonin, pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life, on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. Train passing dread grasses, Sage burning sky lasting, electric currents flowing now, necromancer up and down, Dopamine and serotonin pain relief telepath droning, a walk of life on a limb buds froze until the dawn of spring. -Seumas Necromancer May 2018 Floating wearily but in some comfort overhead. Making sheets move on my bed. Conversations in and out, speaking without our mouths. Blue fires light up your darkness please don’t ever find me as heartless I love you always one two three here’s the bass now jam with me Exhale eternally into the mic, angel choirs out on strike. Necromancer up and down, rein / radius across town, soon I will return with thee to this town/life Ville/vie. –Seumas (New Revisions) James McFarlane +Seamus to thee, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code DRONe -Seumas (James) Monday, February 22, 2016 OK thisone’s right off the wall: this is a strangely written and personal poem It’scalled “Siren heart Drone” (meant for a mature audience) A’ hem…. I’m nervous, I don’t freestyle often I wish there was a way to put this near the bottom of my timeline, it’ll be my latest and greatest lyric though, + POSETIVE INDUCTION — The positive attraction to your conductive psyche, is a form in itself existing in me, subjective almost ironically, the circuitry, being both electricity and imaginary cranked up high by your fun chemistry by way of the cerebral. (Which is flattering me) The circuitry with chemistry minus proximity, (causing a reaction deliberately) the electrical frequencies that you received from me were; artsy descriptions in accents I read. Other elements of me manifesting masculinity through my dorky frequency, gave off feedback that, officially; for me heralded the dawn of freed energy. So… metaphysical seed, dropped and sewn that day, (I guess what I am trying to say is): My girl my girl, don’t lie to me, oceans away your eyes can see, my bending sending light like this, in response to; the drone from your white laced lips. For the of lack of your treble and charge of your base, my “methadone”, White Light/White Heat, can take its place, anti-acidic mantra chi, surrounding me, a black dot in space. Divided by the curve encased, the metaphysical takes place. The fact that we’re in touch today, makes sirens blare and drones play, I’ll send this over right away, and then appropriately play, ‘beautiful face’ a newer way, I could elaborate for 3 straight days. Now what follows is what’s next on the fret board of your hex. It’s between, us; a fish out of net. So this will be all they get. ok here goes, ya, this is for the ladies in town I know that sounds weak but I blame the moons energy for you cute young women never being around when I finally spit the rhyme on solid ground, neway this is about you, you and the town where I choose, and choose to settle down instead of just stop swimming and drown, no more worries, no frowns, I’m gunna work it on out, cause I’m bound for the tides, not the sound, yea, ok, you know what I mean, yea k here I go, you ready? You steady? I stole the crown from the underground, I thought it would look nice with your gown, I’m upward bound so, are you down with my verbs and nouns? I don’t freestyle rap but this might as well be,flowin literally right now cause i come down hard with a sound that this new town including your highness have minds to breakdown, so get down breakdown, my chic mystique-psychologique will make you turn around and blush while your current boyfriends drunk on the ground cause he substitutes love with down, he doesn’t have an ear, genetically, to hear your siren sound for which I was born to kinetically harmonize, desensitize and heal your weary eyes. This is the treatment we need now ill even show you how, like a bow that goes up and down, helping us resonate these bloody strings, while the clipper ship sinks…… Sinks with the low tide.c’mon lets head home. The moons making my fire rise. That means soon it will be high tide, the ocean spray it stings my eyes, so let’s go inside, its morning time, look at color in the sky the sun is just about to rise. MY clipper ship’s on seas of rye. Empty bottles of scotch catch her in the eye. I’m not afraid of all those guys, they’re lucky they even have a sty. I’ve seen farms that would make you cry. These pale blue eyes are all but mine. And yours are like that brand of dye, that in our last summer together, we ALL tried, permanent like the purple in my mind’s eye or the in the dimly lit sky the night I officially died, all from a med, instead of one I took 10, benzodiazepines, all I wanted to do was compound the prescribed effect at the right dose they make a nervous wreck feel and appear normal so I took them, now I’m in debt, but only tried this cause u have me in check, ready to knock the crown off my head, make it your golden cauldron instead. You know I’m good with shocking steel and know how to forge blend anneal so this golden crown is probably real, and I assure u from the other room that it’s safe to use took a meal. Only cause it’s my deal I leave out the part about removing toxic alloys by melting steel, adding chemicals from the field and as the method never revealed used those same chemicals, that we all feel, all the time in our head to make tiny slow moving particles to turn make gold out of lead. So neways with confidence I said GO AHEAD! But I couldn’t lie to her, so I yelled from the other room, “u should know, that thing is gold but it use to be lead. She laughed, hesitated, placed the pewter cauldron on the stove instead and put the golden crown on her head. She finally walked down the hall and into her room where I was using dust pan and broom, she didn’t say nething, just got up on her bed which was shrouded with purple threads forgetting her glasses, still she picked up my book and read, I said here ill read aloud for you instead, within a few minutes of reading she started to turn red, the stove was on low so she got herself fed THAN served us both breakfast in bed. SUDDENLY I awake and see that we are parked at the end of a pier in some town in Quebec, I yell out stupidly from my stuper, WERE ON A PIER! She had good laugh about that occurrence on several occasions. but ya I took too many pills and was all sleepy on our road trip, all in all, yet again, I fed my head then lost all my cred, it being an accident, it made me sleep like the dead, that’s when I lost you, or you lost me, literally you looked everywhere and couldn’t find me, conscious or not, id soon figure id been stung by the bee, the most painful thing however, and my only memory was later that night when you were beside me, or was it he that got there before me, ok now I must stop and back up, the cheap words pouring from me, telling the details of this pathetic story it’s pissing me off, like losing the love of your life to a drug, and then officially to drugs plural, like 5 years of fucking up pretty much following this one night, the moment you realized you had lost the one girl, the one you compare every girlfriend you get ultimately fucking that up too, the one. its caused ache in whets left of my drug affected love starved blackened heart and caused my excellent poem to go right off the rails, so I’ll get on topic and ill even do it in rhyme, what inspires me to try to try, it’s the ache in my heart that is its key function now when I think of this girl and am reminded of the moment I lost her. ok here goes, regardless, we were in bed together, and from your sleepy head where your soul lies and you can never die, I heard your memories cry, and as I realized all the days I tried so hard to try but wouldn’t, couldn’t try and now I can’t cry is because I was always too shy in your unfulfilled eyes despite being my inspiration for the last 4 or 5 years of drugs and art with your recent if u can even call it that separation the focus intensifies about u and other girls like the sweet PortugueseIrish girl from the only psych ward I recommend at hotel diu in Kingston where I was actually treated properly (maybe cause it’s a catholic hospital, maybe cause I was so fucked up I appeared catatonic for days till this fox brought me down and romanced me for a month) she’s your competition….who contributed to my psychological cardiomyopathy however, a number of “the ones” but evenbefore that I was fucked up, I was the youngest psychiatric patient in Ontario or something, I learned how to smoke inside a smoking room in the shithole Scarborough grace when I was fifteen, I think I checked myself in hen I was twelve just to get away, that may have been what that asshole head of psychiatry was talking about. I also hit the highest highs, and the most demonic abysses of suicidal advanced psychotic depression, and took more abuse for it from nurses drs and the police, not to mention my family, but I still unconditionally love and am loved by my parents and grandparents, Jesus, I sacrificed my life and goals to save my families souls literally offed myself when I was 16 years old to end the devils elaborate foothold on me the people around the household appliances and machines, the behavior of living things the weather and the temperature of the room depending on my tortured state the only common theme is that others hurt and share it with me and my empathy kind of bounces back like an echo, I express and receive the grief while later, I only know this because when I fall, which I don’t do nemore thanks to medical science, its all about them.. but now this, she cried in her sleep and the only difference about these tears the ones that dried before her, is that the tears were for the two of us,not for being hurt but for me getting hurt and that hurt her, and it came out of her in a subconscious later state, kind of like me, this happened something like five years ago and it never gets old, ok , so here’s how THIS sad story goes; back to you, we were basically sleeping on the ground, I was tied up and bound, mothers little helper’s cheque bounced, I stupidly blame the devil in benzos but as of last Chinese new year I now denounce him, clonazepam is free from sin,(the cure), which I am resistant to so even though in the name of a better life I took 1/16th of an ounce I was still wide awake laying beside you, thinking only to myself about how I fucked up, it wasn’t even my own script at the time like u even need to know this it was a gift from the big Mc the tragically crip former editor in chief of legal manuscript, this bug makes the dj tick, and he made me, (sick) so (to this day I thank god for the count and amount per pill per day,,, throw your troubles away and pray that it was ok to stray from your holy bible, “psychology today”) So I was now bound for the pound, complete and total disgrace all around, from the moment u made that sound I knew our plans were going down that I would leave town, shoot smack and somehow return because YOU specifically gave the instruction to COME BACK! But things got whack I dropped out of school after taking philosophy which I passed, took drugs then relaxed let the nothing drone blare and move towards and away from the past managed to stay out of the psycho shack and somehow followed the chemical and psychological path out of the woods, fuck that was one long sidetrack, but it’s over, now, it took a year of wandering to end it but I did so…back before I initially left town your eye lids were down. I’d spent our whole friendship collectively letting you down by being ur favorite one in town and not responding in a way that could let us…. Fuck I was a clown,ever since I pulled a sigmen froid and used white to get off opiates it’s been renown but like the psychologist before me once declared, down (heroin) so satisfying in the right dose, has basically fulfilled their open ended prediction for the drugs future, in one shot like vaccine, the queen of all drugs, administered in the highest healthy dosage intravenously is the cure all found in Montreal, and then a deliberate clean cut from all non prescribed recreational narcotics, that is until the dreaded lady in white shows up on ur doorstep, I say let her in, and move away never to see her again, with the experience and satisfaction of the act of consuming heroin as your catalyst to change your life and only take clonazepam. So before all that we had a healthy friendship, it was doomed but I loved you so u kept me around and there was all sorts of ways we got down without ever fooling around except this time I discreetly describe further down when my phone ran out of batteries while you went to town , I thought I was a fuckin martyr because all id make u do is dance, that’s the gods truth so baaaack to me not being a creep, I geometrically see the opposing symmetrical verticy of our rhombus reveal its true ego as FUCKING TRAPAZOID when I hear your inner pain, I’m no hypnotist (yet) but u were zonked after a day of mosh pitting ultimately falling for the other guy, while I slept in the grass like an ASS. you let out a whimper in your sleep and two out of three of us knew, this chick is deep, from then on I took the title of weak, I had let my biological ancestors down with swords in their hands and in my hand your crown, and still I let you down, AND YOU STILL even tried several sexy and awkward times to make it happen and I let you down, u can tell a social disease when the same set of words are used multiple times to rhyme with other words that have that sound i.e. : I let you down. In that strange little town. It’s been well over a year and to end on a harmonious note after all this purple melancholy. I’m gunna say two words to you and they are not” “I do” It’sI’m sorry. I’m sorry lately for this poem, but mostly I’m sorry for not maturing into the man you thought I could be. I’m recovered from my early episodes now, took 16 years but I used the gear to properly hear and respond without fear, if only I did this within the time frame we had, Now were both sad. And I don’t wanna upset u, ur glowie or ur boyfriend or neone else, soo I’m gunna play a song, it’s called : one thing that keeps this black heart beating””(referring to my heart: that “upturned bass drum” The thing that keeps it beating is the dissonant and strangely beautiful siren song that echoes in my mind as the inspiration, “love” and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophies with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the momentmy phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche, at this moment I can prove using circumstantial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indecisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and physical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living things on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not necessarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings crescendos babies,, are when the energy isn’t circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, and the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, imparts her secret harbored denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, whether the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivotal form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense, my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misinterpreted until the last few seconds before the line went dead the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, literally loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symmetrically and quite similarly to your perfect face and body only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me, from the beach into the city, while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella, drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I stop, wait my energies charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged abilities that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit can’t explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery, the almost dead battery, poetic license and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, I’ve always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know threes more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours, in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, they knock me out, blow to the head, I’ll miss away you time instead, that lilliad inside your mind….it’s way too late you’re so unkind, but one important thing u need, to know I know u love to read, do not read too much to your seed, it makes a flower yer indeed, with pain killing power guaranteed, but this makes a subconscious need to find a source for output feed, destined to be completely freed ad finally have the urge to read, its therapy apparently, the experiment of reading aloud and they drift off on angels clouds, you think their gunna make you proud, well brace yourself, speakers are loud, they developed and were well endowed, language and its mystic power it not to be strewn on the flowers, this is my dependant variable, the words the use on me were terrible, a bird a seed knowledge unbearable, though every word is understandable, hypnotic methods subconscious dependable, lovely developmental psychology is the cause of my constant source of energy what I was born to do was reap, infinite knowledge in my sleep a steady drone of literature, I’m older now administer reality and life in place of shame rejection and disgrace, aside from my abilities that serve me independently, instinct survival evolution, speed all factors meant to help me breed, but would you read that to your seed, your surly growing potent weed, I’m not a normal human being I spend time speaking hearing seeing, proving while your disagreeing now the sheep are all fleeing, my purpose hear is slowly weaning I’m a negative source of positive energy, that means nothing drones glowies and friends that are enemies, all that I needs a path and an receiver, a sound to ride on, subwoofer and tweeters, it’s the music u shared with me that keeps me going The proof that our signal reached desired objectives, was clear to my ear which contained an elective, my minds using psychology to be less selective, behavioral science removes the block painlessly love, loss and malpractice grew my circuitry aimlessly, evolving survival instincts team with nature, my chemical background makes life like a phase, the instincts resulting are acute like a razor and amplified abilities through manipulating manipulative chemicals without wavers, resulting in behavior that can reach and amaze her… the extent of the damage is to be overlooked, by using knowledge and memory or reading a book design and time weren’t key features its transference of whines from student to teacher, let me out of detention you feminine creature ill read aloud it’s the right way to reach her, the demand and supply was shot at the sky and with lasers for eyes that reflect off her kind I was surprised to find that in no time I heard her wine, go out of her mind, and through her elective design I read junkie sublime and the fidelity was just fine for my desensitized mind. Literally proving her love up against my undying lazerlove therefore, proving that from that moment in time It was (now literally) one(the one) and another(me) falling “in love “officially identified by the subjective and objective forms that equal true love, for a time, which in rhyme and time I now feel it was divine, it’s began and ended in one harmonious line (in a Scottish accent no less) and buried in our minds getting weaker over time the signal is dying the whine and her trying has kept me flying farther away for lack of a sign that she was officially mine, but my nose it did grind on the stone learning life through the drone all on my own stealing crowns off of thrones, almost completely destroying my home, getting dipped in chrome, and then ground to the bone,, but that’s ok now because I how I know, I made her come through a phone, I’ve reaped what id sewn, now I am grown, with skills to hone no more wearing a cone, from the unknown to the known heralded by the morningdrone which is an inaudible tone interacting metaphysical rods and cones in my everlasting home among milestones made of greymatter behind bone in the form of the intangible moan that has royalties owned by the one xylophone a tone so foreign and feminine it may be that of a banshee or crone, the soil of my subconscious, is where I’ve been instructed and shown but my chance was blown there already something growin that knows the suns light is shown, now I’m alone, why did I buy that bus ticket when I could have flown. Another way of iterating this love story is an s follows introduction, obstruction instruction, induction, seduction production reduction destruction I’m trying to link two portions of this production, causing a reaction like a light turning on send notification from yin to yang (2 great friends of the opposite sex ultimately consummating their union in the way nature wanted it to be) but for us it was highly evolved in that even over the lo-fi filter of cell phones she was sending her love, whether she got off or not that id like ton know, but,, I got the drone of her during, (which if I’m not wrong is typically the main attraction for most women, their anatomy makes for a better “during” in her case conveniently, I’ll admit, without my flawed physical presence, I’m sure she didn’t just give up when my phone ran out of batteries, she was by the banks of her own lagoon, , the stimuli for me, the understanding an witnessing this correlative reaction, correlative because based on all the evidence, the great friendship which was WE were In Love,,,, that passes by my standard and I’m a philosophy grad, this Idea of me and this one girl being in love ISNT EVEN PRAGMATIC like most of my theories, the ONLY thing that get in the way of it being classified as nething between us other than, well I’m afraid to word it frankly because it makes y philosophy look dumb, the only factor threatening this TRUTH, this explainable objective form, is.. the time frame, the setting and the timing of the whole ordeal, my argument is that my reserved intense devotion that was pretty much spellbound, was appropriately (although delicately and let’s say modernly)relieved back to square one, literally and true even though it’s in the days ahead, metaphysic means dead.\\ I’m pretty lonely, so I make allot of art these days, like so; since she left me for dead and we both had left town, with thoughts of her crying asleep on the ground, my mind plays a drone, just to keep the pain down, it’s the girls very essence, oh to hear those pipes sound, if I was there this reel could have burned her house down, But our minds were both trying, Scottish lyrics I had, her bagpipes were sighing, and droning like mad, even though I was dying to get under her plaid, her fingers were flying and the lyrics were “rad the sound of her drones blared through the aero phones, I had broken a string and the bow had no rozen, but her body remembered what she had forgotten, string breaking caused her heat up and harden, this dissonant silence was her chance to depart from his flaws and his jigs and his odds and his rigs and ivy wrapped wand honey drippin upon this Venus in tartan who gushed forth the art of his masculine heart, the yin joins the yang and d string goes twang, The key that she played in was the string that I broke;I awoke in a doria mile off the coast. I swear by the sword of Ulysses and QueenMary’s crown you can’t quiet this siren when she fools around. Sending me to the moon and abyss on her sound It’s siren heart drone and that’s written in stone like I said, STELLAR, and you can TELLHER, most likely shell be a be a BETTER SPELLER, most likely ull say THE WORST THING EVER cause you’re a BULLSHIT SELLER, wave got mutual friends that FLOCK TOGETHER, social cannibals up shit creek FOREVER “sharp fanged teeth sheep” identified by Brethr in touch with friends of mine with FEATHERS, who govern karma AND THE WEATHER harmonizing OUR ENDEVOUR dissonance and TAKING PLEASURE in currents charged “+”, sea vessel PROPELLERS droning on for OH SWEET NEVER, nothing “like” inevitably BETTER the next “day, mon” frère, myself sharply dressed, a new pair of ‘GO GETTERS’ high, but fly, “the local YELLER” inscribes, as I dictate the true, (and prescribed), (in “”blood)-”LETER”! …BUY LETTER!”technique””’s psychology thesis of persuasion,-through love cure for; pain from shame stemming from taking the blame for the psychopaths that are perfectly sane who corporally, “embodying hells flames, wicked games to derange, the use of tools to cause pain, so the hands free to gain more control without shame ….and words that confuse and lead them in. vein cutting through lies and psychosomatic pain” making it rain your blood to put out the flames, an empty vessel that openly claims he righteously bears the right to OFFSET karma in his favorite time double negatives stuck on rewind with the fist or the tool of thing without mind, just current flowing into itself sustaining itself by shackling you with a voice that speaks truths that the vessel and devil greedily use to ultimately abduct you consume love your subconscious would refuse to give, to lose, so you wind kicking yourself while he rips on your soul defacing and displacing what’s left of you, what set you apart from a caved in shoe who’s uneven because the others got two, souls are unbreakable but if he breaks you, ill have the words the voice and the truth, the vessel in which to put soul into you, love and affection reflecting on you a new pair of shoes and so basically you feeling loved and in good mood no longer producing that parasite food, by walking and talking, souls in your shoes, while my bare feet support prescribed truth, a chemical network of mes and you ultimately held together with glue your love is the only way I can get through my psychological problems of which I have used to heat cook and serve us both food they drive me to supplementing love with miscues, attempts to draw a good picture of shoes, that drawn the attention of someone like you, or someone who offers a love I can’t refuse, because it me who also has many a bruise, the glue the chemical I trust and I use are prescribed and administered with bruit force and tools, leaving the chemically gifted unloved and unused and undone on the run with the songs you have sung, giving u satisfaction, and leaving u hung out to dry by the sick and the dumb, and the one, that u can give a gift to, is the only way we can say I love you and the fact that we are is what makes it true now I can scrape this shit right off your shoe, here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singing the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones too, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’mtired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code,I’ll let the field talke care I m old, its time to end thiflodi broke the mouldand me with my everything about the shoe, its maker your sou out your soul leaving with bound by psychosocial with day moon SETTERS. home made psychopath GET ER, and lose her to a knitted SWEATER meant to the and if shit hits the fan in my house you become a fuckin CAVE DWELLER you officially for me heralded the dawn of freed energy so metaphysical seed dropped and sewn that day I guess what I a tying to say is seroquel can kill the day and lithium when charged can phase can kill your kidney and your craze over sirens who’ve been underground their perfect face and al around static in the air and sound of talismans and something foud induction tells you write this down what she conducts may flood the town, and this guythatts on the other line isn’t he a project of mine, sais nurse so cute and fine that flirt with my bipolar mind could his stimuli be cut, (if my nurse heard that shed bust my nut the think I’m guna get more worse nuclear winters parallel universe but bipolar ppls irony ill crack the joke an ice your nuclear explosion twice a day while I’m away leading weak dicks astray but giving your negative drones away the moans that I’m familiar with the point is I’m sick, was born with antennae metaphic that can even change channels like sappic girl on girl to girl on me altering duality and that what I get for free cable metaphysically so u better charge your battery, start the car pray she needs a guy with speed, instead of the duality of loving and love being received define love for me because lm low on batteries, finally the irony iron like steel I’m not even funny she gave me a drone that carried me home plate metal armor still that suckers dethroned all because of the ironic poem guaranteed to call my home circuitry and sacred tones, hooked up to my broke dying alone charge that she hears in my voice instinct are what’s the driving force to be my Venus in furs of course striking my eardrums while art of a new form could cure my heart, when deprivation and avant-garde combine to make things into art the the thing that makes drones stop and start my wordsandfingers take a form that independently grows horns, what an art to harmonize your frequencies with, smart, you dirty little butter tart you were supposed to cure my heart at least u got it throughtome you rising storm makes my anteenae start to channel lo-fi forms a and v imnow starting to clearly see I got to hear pure femininity express its love physically, while the ironic truth is easy to see, that my talisman masxulinity had no hand in physically and so my strengths like mediocrity, thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculine frequency that was enough to ride that came through the airwaves only a dined, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjectively means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite ur reaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely ur still a part of me, like the wasted energy of a missing battery that from within bears a charge, that was meant to be, the high voltage current, of hot energy. wat a grT TRIP THIS IS, ALTHOUGH ONG AND UNCOMFORTABLE AT LES I STILL HAVE ROCK AND ROLL AND BY DIVINE TIMING WE TOO A STROLL ADNTALKED A LITTLE THATS MY GOAL AND NOTHING DRONES AND HEAVY STONES WERE LEVITATED WITH THE MOAN OF SIRENSS BUT YOUR NOT A PHONE AND NO SUPRIZE CANT LEAVE ALONE OW I THRIV OFF DIAL TONED CAUSE IM DEPENDANT ON YOU STONE THE TALISMAN YOU CALL MY HHOME AND THAT TIE YOU CALLED ME ON THE PHON YOU WERE IN MY HEAD SAFE IN YOUR HOME BAD TIMING AND A HEAVY TONE BATTERIES DEAD: NOW WERE NOTHING DRONES…………………………………………………………….. thisescwe took a short boat that sent out a masculin frequency that was enough toride that came through the airwaves only a denied, to start your engines, and the elements it’s the charge that ironically subjective by means of a whim of a, separating you from me and that despite urreaction objective by only induction by the ma lonely Seroquel can ‘kill. The day’, and lithium (when charged) can phase, can kill your kidneys and your ‘“crazy” laser ray’s perspective.’ Meant for sirens, waves, underground stalactites, space, and drops of acid rain onto your base. Meant to cauterize with time and phase the straight; your sex, the Vikings take, and that edge they use to reap and waste. ((their secret way through; to slice through the glazed over passageway, that freezes waves of blood they made. Turned to crimson ice seen by my red hot rays, melt into salty ocean sprays) Then not so far away at night I kill the day and reap twilight, my heat turns from red to white like scars that weep acid rain despite my efforts, however insane, you do this over and over again) Relief; from emotional THEN/BY physical pain. In that order, we’re both deranged. here goes, gimme my cloths my cigarettes prescribed glue, a roof over my head a bed and you, and then maybe I’ll start wearing shoes, here’s my complex singin the blues, from my effort unsatisfied underground nothingdrones, its letting go and walking away from it to choose to lose, this is therapy now I need to go, you know it and I got the show on the road I’m tired and now am holding a rose, I’m loosing my grip on the following code, It’s meant for: a couple; of different: ppl 1 knø james ((pérsunµli); ‘(urThInKn èù¹d “Like¹¹ i+ Th0µGh))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) ) — ¹o-² øس=FOUR!!!!!!!!²O_O³⁴!! (0_0)T0o?O_o)❤µ¼FOR¼ldd.”( þ+¹na!’(LOL!)?,X&Y” =ø(þ iN þÉd àvèç¹<>³µ)/(µø+þ²)ùþ³@ — ¹²³¹²³¹²³¹²³ James McFarlane• Ideas About mental Illness — James McFarlane Here’s my theory on paranoia. (Usually considered a negative symptom of psychosis) It can help gather information or misinform those who experience it. Even in wellness it is always potentially present in all of us. It’s a survival instinct. It makes us more attentive. My unique experience and understanding is when paranoia and other symptoms are present, heightened and amplified alertness to important information perceived by the senses is collected and whatever data is missing the brain either fills it in with logical thought or logical hallucination in some cases. I will further iterate this several ways for you to better grasp it. For most people there is so much excess data you wind up believing a falsity. Simple logic should let you know best which is most accurate among the extra data collected by suspicion, inner thoughts and hallucination ultimately fitting like Lego into the fractured “factual” data perceived. I believe mostly it is our internal sense of logic that is used to make hallucinations like dreams that appear similar to our regular reality. It is your sense of logic that determines how accurate the thought or hallucination might be compared to reality. It is hard to determine between reality and hallucination because hallucination adheres to reality. But if you can detect like in a lucid dream (aware of being in a dream) that it’s a hallucination you’re ok. It’s not that difficult to determine what thought or hallucination fits if you’re experiencing (or expecting) allot of symptoms having an automatic thought process that simplifies things by showing the most accurate possibility alone to the individual by involuntary thoughts and possibly hallucination. This can be a more accurate depiction of what’s not reachable by the actual senses. The point or idea is that hallucinations and involuntary thoughts mimic reality as best they can, so, they can be used to determine what is beyond our senses reach either corresponding with the senses themselves (hallucination) or through mind talk (which is the method that most mimics what we call telepathy and is much more controlled and has less effect on your behaviour and environment than hallucination). This mind talk or “intrusive thoughts” can be our sense of logic. It’s our sense of what’s real that makes up our involuntary thoughts and hallucinations so they’re may be an ounce or two of truth in them even though they aren’t real they can be identical ideas to what is really there. This is to be used for those who can’t see or hear what are out of reach of their senses like sonar or radar and further aid those who have and impairment or just want to experiment with extending their senses. This only applies to the unwell. Like I have said amphetamine could mimic the hypomanic state in regular people perhaps. This could be a tool for treating a range of mental disorders. Depression, lack of communication in certain critical mental conditions.(Alzheimer’s etc.) It’s not just guessing at involuntary thoughts and hallucinations, the tool combines accurate and distorted data collected by the senses. This extends the senses that help us try to understand. (Only some of us may have this as a mental pattern). You may be calling this a delusion well I call a delusion an idea. And remember, an idea can make the body including the brain do interesting things. Mono ideo dynamics Determining what’s real and what’s not isn’t a problem here, you know what’s a thought and an actual sound or hallucination when this is occurring so if they combine to make a more accurate awareness with good results than it doesn’t matter whether it’ telepathy or a mental tool isolated to the mind its generating data for the individual I assure you. Collecting data even from other people’s minds is definitely a factor in this theory (it’s a tangent but it’s important.) Involuntary thought is inner thought that appears to be info coming from an obvious source or other person. This is when the argument for delusion is most appropriate. Telepathy is a possible conclusion in the case of mind chatter or involuntary or external thoughts unlike ‘sense extension’ which is a potential tool involving similar aspects but also the actual environment. The mind to mind thing doesn’t involve physical reality like the sense extension theory which involves hearing and assuming all five senses if you were sick enough could improve the perception of our environment by way of hallucination corresponding with the senses, verses logical lingual additions to your line of thought (involuntary thoughts) which can be thought alone (mind talk) This opens a window to hybrid hearing combining involuntary thought with semi audible data, this was my first discovery and personal experience along the line of useful mental activity. So I would call it all external or involuntary mental data. The reason I included the telepathy as idea in this was because sense extension which may be provable is using the same material our thoughts are made of suggesting that the other ideas are worth experimenting with. I suggest mental information can be projected into the metaphysical reality affectively by a person just like shouting a person’s name. This is blatantly how it works from my perspective. What we imagine goes out into the air and some of us are there to hear it within our thoughts; mind chatter. Talking to yourself in your head as well as other transmissions or incoming additions. Not something we do all the time. Some people rarely do it or experience it. These are introspective expressions nevertheless they are the fabric of what sense extension involves. So if sense extension, (because it uses the senses, reality and hallucination/involuntary thought) can be tested and valuable info is collected from those tests, because of its use of involuntary thoughts which mimics telepathy, it could help prove or add merit to the idea of telepathy and its other explanations that are as follows. Proving telepathy involves seeing how things like sense extension is in the same weave as actual things we use or experience like thought, mental chatter, hallucination, dreams. This part of the universe is becoming objective when using a hybrid or functional form to better understand our surroundings. Just believing in these functions and experiencing them improves your regular perception and observational skills. These are hybrid metaphysical tools for perceiving your surroundings by use of hallucination and or thought and actual fractured data picked up by the senses. I tackle this mind chatter idea more so because it’s a solid symptom that doesn’t fail, like hallucination often does. Thoughts in the form of language coming from people around you or your multipersonalitied conscience is a good thing as long as it’s a good thing. When it no longer is in the range of being able to be used as a tool, these thoughts can be turned off or turned on by meds and belief or disbelief in the idea. But when it’s happening properly, like in hypomania, it does act as an aid in awareness of what’s most likely going on in other people’s thoughts. It informs you of the most likely thought usually in relation to you, aiding you every time by making you aware of something you didn’t know before. Word for word telepathy is a miracle, mental chatter that informs you of what’s most accurately going on in other people’s heads by way of involuntary lingual statements in the mind is not. It’s worth investigating, it’s a gift that has never led me to harm, only understanding. The fact that it’s in your head makes it a passive process where you have the option of responding or not, verbally or mentally if you’re a believer in telepathy. You can have communications, often in the form of mental lingual impressions from people around you, as long as their chattering in their heads. More often they respond verbally or through body language. (This could be also called a thought related delusion, and it probably is) Like sense extension it helps figure out without effort what’s most likely going on somewhere else but this involves getting a mental impression of what’s going on in someone else’s head and apparently only if It’s about you or directed to you, mostly. Telepathy and sense extension go hand in hand. What’s real and usable and what’s a symptom may need to be looked over and not just thrown in the isolation chamber. Mind chatter and thought insertion are two different things I think. Thought insertion means you think someone or something else is in your head and it is overwhelming. Mind chatter or “telepathy” follows a pattern of logic that is more precise than your own usually, it follows a rule, I am certain of it. That’s why it’s better to use cause it’s your intuition delivered lingualy. Thought insertion is like having someone else in control, whereas mind chatter is somewhat under control and mostly in your control as you are the experienced one. Involuntary thoughts (other people’s voices) could be telepathy and if it follows such a dynamic and structured law it should not be called thought insertion. Sense extension is something more practical and objective than telepathy type thinking, but it is untested and like I said, I deal with mind talk even when I am well and it is always accurate and helpful. The idea of partly using data from the peripheries of our trusted senses shows that these elements are not to be underrated or mislabelled. The fact that we can only see farther stars in the sky by looking off to the side is a great example of use of the peripheries of our senses. Similar is my experience of seeing peoples more true emotions on their faces when using peripheral vision. Is esp or just one example of a passive and informative hallucination? Let us not throw aside my interpretation of the experience of useful and unique mental activity by giving it the unattractive label of thought insertion when the fundamentals of these ideas may be useful for inventing evolution like tools to reach out into parts of the universe we have not yet studied. Distorted senses combined with an inherent logical thought process that is accurate if not pragmatic I my experience in every case. This could be an opportunity to reopen the study of parapsychology. (The fact that these are just an accurate perception mechanism is good enough). To reveal this delusion, we’ll assume all this is still only going on in one’s active imagination. However using a pattern of brain activity that mimics telepathy as a tool to read his/her environment better is cool; the only difference this has to sense extension is that there is no real life data involved. This in my opinion makes it the most commonly used and confronted with, solid, and most effective tool I deal with. (even when well) There are practices like muscle reading which is getting data through seeing a person’s movement that are examples of a semi proven method that mimic things like telepathy. I propose mental activities that are involuntary and positive like some of the symptoms of a mental illness, could be used as a link between what we see as dysfunctional mental activity and a breakthrough into the endeavour to prove that thoughts are part of our dynamic world as a form and can be used as a medical or social tool. This mental activity in serious cases of unwellness can alter the way we operate, not just the way we think. Paranoia could take over and it could be false data, and the repercussions could crescendo. In their reality and in reality itself. I say listening to your thoughts (whatever form they take) and interpreting them, it’s safer than experimenting with hallucination because mind chatter can be a factor in hypomania and in wellness. Only in the case of hallucination being used in a controlled environment with positive energy being present, for instance with a schizophrenic, they can be very well while hallucinations are still present. If in that state the hallucination tends follow what the senses are trying to perceive and use a situation like the sense extension experiment involving hallucination and obstructed hearing it may prove to be a good tool/idea possibly for aiding the hearing impaired in this situation or a similar situation that works. It could work because it could fill in more data where it was lacking and it may inherently be attempting to be accurate. This attempt is evident in other mental processes mentioned here. In the case of experimenting with this type of thing never should you be depressed manic, psychotic or over whelmed with psychological issues. If you are in an unwell state seek help, but be open to the new ideas that may present themselves to you. Know that the brain is elastic and does heal. The hippocampus and you are always growing. If it’s suggesting that its telepathy aiding us and guiding us that makes you sceptical I’m not going to just drop it. Be pragmatic and get a bit more insight into how it worked for me. First off, all that makes it telepathy as I’ve said is that it only involves thought. One thing that suggests that it is a thought from another source is the amount of unusable but accurate information that comes along with these seemingly incoming transmissions. It behaves like a mental environment that doesn’t involve just you; the metaphysical plain. You mostly hear in your thoughts what applies to you from those around you but there is other mental exclamations at times coming from different sources for different destinations, or in most cases mental exclamations just for themselves. Also getting an involuntary thought of apparently what is being said somewhere completely out of reach of the senses is a factor here. This is bigger than the structure of telepathy. If you are being talked about in the other room the brain informs you of it and who is saying it, this is clearly a survival instinct to gain intelligence of what may be out there and what most likely is, this type of sense may be evidently seen and utilized more by animals than humans. Probably because of the invention of language, putting the sense in recession. These ideas suggest that the metephysical plain is not just in my head but is there for everybody (and that privacy may be an issue.) The experienced and well user of the mental functions could actually receive and send out positive and effective transmissions with a ripple effect, real or not. (for what it’s worth, even to gain confidence and boost chemicals, respond and react accordingly to these transmissions and you’ll find it fits and improves your presence and role in the situation, that’s my experience) while the sick are just spiralling and not even communicating because their usually using negative or confusing behaviour or energy. What’s also evident of its existence is the obviousness the transmissions go both ways. I’m not just getting your impression of me in my thoughts; it’s obvious you’re getting mine. Its conjoint mental activity. It involves everyone but I think it requires a guide. If these are just symptoms, they rarely intensify and do dissipate more or less with wellness. I say if it’s not the metaphysical plain it’s at least explained by two minds appearing to correspond by (often coincidentally) one playing out the others activity as accurately as it can within the mind. This as a law would be evident enough to prove telepathy. I see a constant pattern in when the transmitters communicate, that they are thinking that thought and responding to one another (seen though body language and verbal responses. That’s telepathy like activity rationalised. It’s not always word for word because often I ask and they say no I did not think those words. Apparently it’s a mental impression of yourself delivered in the form of verbal thoughts or inaudible expressions from other people in the vicinity or elsewhere. Finally the hybrid hearing idea.The most effective and safe of the ideas here. (Thought and hearing mixed) It would be hard to disprove because of a lack of qualified candidates and the scenarios required. The hybrid hearing idea like I’ve said is not activity isolated only to thought, but the idea that involves using factual data and the imaginary simultaneously. Sense extension without hallucination. Deciphering between actual sense and involuntary thought is easy, you know what you hear and what you think, they become conjoint in some mental states indicating that the possibility of an extension “fill in the blacks” scenario. Know that this involves either an overactive imagination. The logical involuntary lingual thought mental activity combined with the brains attempt to hear the less audible is a marriage that could create the extension of the impaired or out of reach sense (hearing in this case) What I propose is happening here may be hearing the bass of a conversation because bass carries farther, and your mind places the other frequencies (treble) in the form of an involuntary imaginary sound. I suggest this is too intricate and accurate to be delusion. To actually be aware of the volume according to the distance or nature of the info that comes from not the unknown but an obvious source is evident of that intricacy. The psychotic skills talked about here are among the skills we’re all born with. All humans are capable of psychosis. Which is the foundation of these things. I just find mania to be safe, similar and more of an advantage. Our brains and beings all have an inner need and desire to figure out what is reality. Even when that reality is obstructed, it uses other means to get around to perceiving the world correctly. This line of thought has the potential to be a step forward in changing others view of these symptoms. To suggest that they are meant to be enhance to our advantage, not abolished; this is the stuff of change at an evolutionary level because as I said earlier it does involve everybody and anybody. The Chemically Endowed / THE HEALTH SYSTEM James McFarlane June 1st, 2016 Mania is the increasing of one’s “reward” chemicals in the brain chronically (a symptom of Bipolar). A fact about mania is that it is not so often as out of control as we are tempted to assume. We don’t know the limits it can push positive wise. A negative aspect is surely something that we have seen occasionally. An example could be a world leader like Alexander the great. On the positive side of it are people like Van Gough and many other artists, teachers and authors. Making tireless efforts at just causes inspired by epiphany is just one of the activities a bipolar individual has the option of pursuing. (Sometimes with phenomenal results) This can be a positive activity of the broad ranged individual. Mania is an abundant source of potential positive energy. The mythical Greek god Dionysus has been called the god of mania. He partied allot and was the estranged son of Zeus. There were cults formed in his honor and the remanence of them still exist today as a common and highly manipulated, manipulative tradition known as the entertainment industry. Antianxietys, antidepressants, antipsychotics and mood stabilizers; drugs that (have attributes that researchers have neglected to even identify) help and plague the bipolar individual as the most commonly used tool to ward off symptoms. In some cases, recreational drugs like amphetamine ((that seem to force up the mood of an individual) among drugs that are normally oriented with unwellness)) I suggest, could be a surprising aid in speeding up the recovery process of depression (the opposing symptom in bipolar to mania which have psychosis as a common theme at the peripheries of both poles of experience) through cognitive stimulation. This is important because antidepressants take several weeks to take effect and suicide could be prevented by the induction of a more open approach to medical uses of recreational drugs. This activity should be combined with social interaction in the case of recovery because it surrounds the recovery of the social aspects of the self (I do not recommend this as the first option for a recovery process). Like most drugs this behavior may take years off the recovery process but could wind up taking years off your life. If closely watched and tested the medicinal benefits of illegal or unreaserched drugs as well as further data released on drugs in general and their common circumstances may be a great stride in the remedy of mental, psychological conditions and social misconceptions which solutions are still being put off by ignorance of the populous and adverse political agendas. Other treatment options not listed above include electroshock therapy and psychical exercises like cognitive behavioural therapy. These alternatives are used less most likely because pharmaceuticals are a huge part of controlling the populous and funding corporations and government. However, a regimented combination of any of these factors could be a breakthrough for some. Called “consumers” by people that work in the pharmaceutical industry, these human beings endowed with seemingly new chemicular behaviors have a heavy cross to bear. I believe that it is obviously possible that over half the population (just to be fair) are born chemically inclined, but forced under the heel of the majority of the others who are from my perspective, psychologically twisted by ignorance, power over the sick, and unjustified behaviour based (((most likely (just to be fair) for some, subconsciously))) on either inherent or just blatant jealousy. I say this because the majority of people in a position of dominance in our society, (security guards, nurses, the police, doctors what have you) are brutally unfair, unprofessional, and ignorant in most cases. This attitude fuels the biggest and oldest and crudest intolerance ever committed by one group against its own people. The mentally endowed verses the psychologically twisted and everyone in between or strung along is the latest and oldest injustice I can see other than the genocide of the shamanistic cultures of north and south America. The most obviously funded sick lack of justice and care for their own counterpart (ever challenged till present day) by a government is currently at hand. It’s a matter of time and interest among corporations. Their need for money will guarantee that the proper drugs will be the end of this problem. Their survival as a business is the only co-dependent factor for the cause. Once the sick become well, ((the inevitable outcome (already achieved)) the drugs will be reinvented a few times ultimately plateauing as a renewable idea by these scientific salesman and their evil subordinates running the place like some kind of sick joke to themselves. Those who wield tools and permission to inflict pain, bondage and any form of abuse they find delectable simply to put off paperwork (and sooth their own often nocturnal boredom) only assigned to be used in the inevitable malpractice suits soon to be ensued by the just with the just against the corrupt. With blunt force and jealousy against their only threat and reliable witness to the sick twisted 24 hour a day fetish of legally and illegally taking the rights and freedoms and everything that makes life desirable from the ill to make way for a prolonged treatment of abuse and betrayal from the psychologically bent nurses and security guards, doctors, police not to forget your everyday sociopath / psychopath walking the streets and perverting the direction and attention of the staff and patients of mental health wings across the country (Canada). Folks like these who lack the basic right and wrong skills, used obviously and openly by the sick and the meek to inevitably over throw the ranks of sociopaths and psychopaths governing, misusing and perverting the writing of history. All of their efforts put into this “note taking” endeavour to be rewarded with indulgence into the sick pleasures of a dysfunctional beauracracy and political disgrace to be. As for the sick, (and well) the neglect of one’s health and deterioration of relationships is often inevitable during episodes and when being forced against such characters mentioned above. These new victims often leaving the institution with their own newly afflicted psychological scars. This is understandable considering how different and under informed the external world and the unbalanced individual usually are. The unwell individual tends to get overwhelmed with heightened and distorted perception, and the outside worlds clashes with their reality. Inevitably against their will, (usually after lots of experience) and sadly, many forms of legalized abuse from the system that seems to be above all law, they become accustomed to the system and more knowledgeable about medication. This is the only way I’ve seen someone become well, for longer. It’s important to channel the knowledge from their experience into productive endeavours. This is the exceptional goal. Chemicals are a big part of the inclined individual’s life (Pharmaceutical, natural and usually recreational). Often enough a well-balanced person emerges but the fight against unwellness and addiction is ongoing for many. Even once well, the psychological challenges of adjusting to life can set in. Thankfully this is also treatable either with anxiety medicine or therapy (or in the case of the Canadian health system, prolonged and tormenting hospital stays crudely striped with prolonged bondage and isolation chambers. Psychology being the completely unfunded and rightful alternative. Wellness comes with time and knowledge as well as trial and error. The potential experience for these individuals is more than the average prescription. Logically and philosophically looking at these problems is key to understanding them. Stigma; it’s a thing like racism that is rampant in every culture today but especially in western culture apparently. A mild example of stigma is using a negative label or misconception such as “split personality” or “psycho”. These are words attached to now folklore, lies and misunderstanding so this ignorance is apparently the first thing to go. In the case of bipolars, it is often amplified social ability versus depression or other emotional states that is confused with complete loss of judgement. Schizophrenics seem to have an even keel in terms of personality in most cases. I know there is no mood disorder but full on hallucinations. This could be due to an unexplained increased constant source of dopamine in their system I suggest gets used to produce complex distractions that could be used to their own advantage, like poetry etc.. (Unproven connection) The biggest problem is the assumption our government and citizens have; that the mentally ill are violent. This ultimately subjects us to being treated like escaped zoo animals by every authority figure you can think of. This is how they legally get us into straps; the word violent. This word can be used in ways it shouldn’t which is often the case. Once declared violent and mentally ill you’re bound for a living hell most likely for quite some time. All the ugly side effects of the system itself leave you psychologically damaged. You get a fate worse than prison by far, especially if you’re rebellious. I have rarely if ever have seen an act of violence towards another from a person that lives in a society that has them already sedated, and threatened by fearful ignorant authority figures with shackles, tasers, injections and cruelty in general at the ready. I’ve mostly seen vigilance or peaceful protest in those in an unwell state, simply because they have the logic to see what they’re up against. We’ve seen this all our lives. Even those who fight back really never had a chance to show that they meant no harm. I say this because our common goal as this type of person is to be understood. While up against a mass of smug sociopath liars who are constantly projecting joyously in groups that we’re mentally incompetent and incapable. This whole thing makes me want to kick an isolation room wall in and pull out the insulation over and over again. That type of treatment on that scale and for that length of time inspires anger in the most emotionally controlled of individuals. This type of passive brutality cannot be easily understood by people who are on a regular level of unchanging dopamine and serotonin. Basically, it is those who are in control and uninformed that are inevitably inflicted with the stigma for mental illness otherwise these are used as tools by the PhDs that as of late have the audacity to wield side effects deceptively like better acting medication (as well as transference upon their staff). Mania is a powerful source of energy. Success of any kind is a possibility with people that have the genetic makeup of the bipolar individual and quite possibly the schizophrenic and schizoaffective system casualties. Most who blindly submit are in a sedated or in a financially constricted reality for most of their lives. However massive bodies of work that gain quality over time with practice are usually seen with all types of mentally ill individuals. Productivity is a given with excess energy and hopefully with excess dopamine. This is something the bipolar individual has at their disposal. (The excess dopamine, like I stated earlier, being the undiscovered advantage for schizophrenic and hybrid diagnosis individuals). If psychological ailment is part of ones developmental makeup, seek help through private practices in your nearest large city center, like psychologist offices, astrological predictions or the cheaper alternative; fortune cookies. ((all systems more trustable than the political money grab being masqueraded by the Canadian government and god knows where)). Hobbies will get lots of attention and skills like writing will be improved for most. Phenomenal ideas and activities must be given attention. It must come from a desire to be appreciated in a world that sees them as useless and treated as such as well as resentment for the genetic advantage and the mitochondrial patterns I will stipulate below. First off I am compelled to write; things like physical agility are improved as well when new energy comes along. Now, the organelle mitochondria in animal cells produces energy for the cell. Like the patterns of the near solar system and probably menstrual cycles and similar monthly patterns recorded to date, all of these cells (differing by their design) work as groups. Most likely shifting by the behavior and the pressures of the environment and or the environments one is involved with as well as (chiefly) the positive verses negative intentions or energy put forth. The positive being more strong and more apt to gaining velocity compared to negative endeavours while the ignorant become subjected to rapid, (fuelled by culture and social upheaval) evolutionary de-emphasis. Tradition will save many who are open minded. It has been theorized that a person who inherits the bipolar gene may have abnormal mitochondrial activity. I reiterate that this would cause fluctuating energy production for the whole body and possibly more so for the brain, ultimately spiking or dropping essential consciousness related chemicals like serotonin and dopamine. Mainly above the baseline of level as far as positive living goes indicating that it’s an innovative evolutionary trait. (These chemicals and the proper medicine are prime factors for the bipolars however independent) the natural chemicals)) These are known simply as chemicals that affect our mood. Or sometimes referred to as (and in everyone’s experience) reward chemicals (endorphins) and oxytocin (the love chemical). The mitochondrial theories as well as more psychological rather than biological theories (i.e. “mono-ideo dynamics”) are unproven. (most called into question more than 100 years ago left unelaborated but proposing a hypothesis unfinished on purpose, ie. Mono-ideo dynamics meaning that an idea can make the body do anything the body is capable of to the peripheries, any part of the body. The “any” part of course cautiously suggesting the brain) The future of mental health I would say is the extensive categorizing of the dosage and drug or treatment in relation to different types of people or circumstances. (i.e. more than 10 conditions, more like a dictionary of conditions to be) Also, once the medical scam plateaus (due to actual research and political attention) psychology as a treatment method will be implemented beyond nurses attempting some form of cognitive behavioral therapy. It is those employed to work with the mentally ill and the graduates of psychology or related studies who must insist on more data collection and way more research into the possibilities the mind itself can offer in medical treatment of all illness. It occurs to me now obviously that psych has been previously placed on the priority list as secondary to the drug trade and religion so to gain funding for an renewable priceless trade like deduction of illogical pursuits and outcomes. (A basic form of psychology that should aid dangerous things like delusion and the laws of attraction). Psychology research mut be put on the forefront so we can get meds chosen, dosages corrected and diagnoses discovered and made faster and more accurately. (And produce more jobs in all levels of the field of medicine) It’s a century old marriage and divorce between medicine, and free will. Psychology should be treated as equally as important as medicine as it is half the battle against corruption of our society, ecosystem and those who inhabit it. Back to the original induction and pragmatic endeavour of self controlling mental chemicals that have their own agenda, or the agenda of the moon and the weather; the social activities of a manic person can be difficult to put up with for others because it’s constant and overbearing at times. This factor most likely is being brought up because of my experience with passive aggressive tendencies. What is interesting is that it can stimulate chemicals in people around the source (more importantly I say between couples). Basic emotional chemicals like endorphins and oxytocin (excitement, survival and `love` related chemicals in any order) can be increased in other people at higher than normal rates and levels (not to mention the freed individual themselves). These chemicals can be a blissful and natural human experience when people are close to one another. This can be achieved through stylized communication between persons. In cases of manic people with other manic people; it’s a vibrant social atmosphere. It’s manifesting the inner emotion or thought into reality or more commonly manifesting it into iteration. In any case one can activate the other pretty easily without consumption of any substance. Any communication and body language is the stimulation factor here when differing types of people get together. This is what psychology is; ‘Behaviour changing chemicals, changing environment’. Boring and seemingly opposing efforts is also a common occurrence because it’s hard to stay positive for most and for those around them because, it’s been a long battle and opposites attract. Phrases like that as well as phrasing like “everybody’s different” is an indication that intellect and work ethic are also independent factors essential to the coexisting of partners in general. The state best to experiment in as far as is hypomania (medium mania) or even just wellness. Ways to activate a slow rise in your serotonin level if you’re not bipolar would be using a mild stimulant like amphetamine (Dexedrine). This is not something to try on your own. I’m suggesting this to be a carefully overseen test involving chemicals that are dangerous to be used in excess and for prolonged periods of time. If you become manic, know that once your manic states have passed and you’re well you still possess the ability to partake in and test different psychological and parapsychological activities (it does stay with you and up to date). One thing to discover while well is that a person can up their brain’s chemicals at will without the use of drugs, rather, behaviour or behavioural exercises. Once you’ve done that and or submitted to the opposing factors of the weaker you are both freed. This has been going on for billions of years in many forms. Dancing, sex, geometry, sensory deprivation (like vision quests or modern culture traditions) gaining knowledge about the earth from the stars, cultural and group oriented endeavours like art or chemical revolution (i.e. drugs rock and roll all stimulate the body chakras as well as the earth’s). Other theories basically thrown around by the wiser of the eastern west in the form of literature or poetry comes to mind, like; “electricity comes from other planets”, in relation to mono-ideo dynamics in relation to bipolars and nature; “The Gift” etc. (The Velvet Underground, 1969). All of these “foggy notions” are there for usually the reason they’re being inspired, meaning put art intentions and science together and you’ve got something good. Unless you succumb to the marketplace. Only drugs inspire chemicals on command without the need for circumstance (this is a modern cultural tradition). The nature of mania is that you become ‘antennae’ of sorts that more easily gathers information. It’s up to you what you do with your energy or your manic that turns the tides in your favour. Your perception may be higher in this state, but there (as always) is; a down side of it as there is duality in all things in nature. Psychosis depression and psychological problems plague the inexperienced young bipolar individual’s lives until an effective treatment plan is accepted or forced on them. Other ways to cushion this (and to avoid too many episodes) is complying with treatment plans to your liking and staying away from recreational drugs for the most part. Or rather, opposing and cheating the laws of the flawed marketplace. The process as a whole is always a learning experience for most. For sure, unbalanced brains are the next step in biological evolution. The union of the mind and body, the relationship between the physical and metaphysical, and how human culture is merged with the ethereal will occur along with the reopening of the practices originating from primitive psychology like the agenda of the heavenly bodies of fire above. Victim Psychology One thing I have realized over the past many years is that there are two kinds of people in the world; the aggressors and the passive. Like the chimps and the bonobos, the psychopaths and the victimized, the sociopath and the weary guardian, the farmer and the farm animal, the nurse and the sickly the dominant prey upon the weak. I have found the sociopath to be friendly and the psychopath to be gentlemanly and wise at times. This does not condone they’re compulsive destructive social and physical abuse that they inflict upon they’re victims. A psychopath is someone who enjoys committing violence upon another. A sociopath is one who has no care for the wellbeing of others. This is rampant in modern Canadian livelihood. One other thing I’ve noticed about aggressors is that they go in and out of remission. (Which is cooperative behavior) A volatile destruction of one’s trust of others and distorting of one’s actions that is prevalent in victims is sexual abuse of the young and old alike. Next to physical assault it’s the most reactive and high profile to this day of violations of another person therefore it falls in the category of psychopathy from what I can see because of its physical and emotional impact. Victims carry on in public, say profoundly erratic and shocking statements, take up malevolence for those who stand by them and seek a vengeance that has no sympathy in any circumstance against theirs and other persons abusers. Their paranoia fuelles the problem of wrongful accusation cases ongoingly across the board. Usually a current abuser is in the background with these cases fuelling the fire while the victim holds out for some kind of mercy or justice. Wife beating and general abuse of children and animals are the most haness and hated by the public and the spectrum of victims in this country. (Canada) Sexual abuse is the most widely discussed and concerning of abusive behaviors towards humanity, (to the point that it’s an ongoing obsession and topic in the daily conversation in a conflictive situation between persons and within groups of all sizes) breeds decay within the psychological health of the groups themselves(like paranoia to a schitsophrenic) and they revel in it, abusers and all. All the power to the victims for their enthusiasm, but to reiterate what I wrote above, these actions are somewhat on occasion either false puppetry put on by the victim’s close and currently occupied as; violator, or by bystanders who just want a show or to gossip. The falsity and sadly sociopathic act of ‘fish netting’ just about every oddball as a possible suspect of these lowly behaviors is very common in today’s society. However, I have realized that their paranoia is justified by the number of women beating and sexual abuse cases showing up as a reality today and that there is a correlation with the amount of homosexuals that are violently “in the closet” who turn up in our courts and also who don’t (mainly due to victims trying to hold their lives together). Can this be explained by ethnicity clashes? Gangs?Terrorism?Languages? Why this correlation? Is it obviously connected to what was formerly seen as perversion, homosexuality, as a factor in these broken homes. Just because by my census in northern Ontario found that heterosexuality was a minority here and that the abuse rate changed for the worse shows that it is possibly a correlation. How long has this been going on? I find that these men need to use women as a shield, a sexual punching bag that’s worth no more than a cheap roast beef. This is a new social disease. Not homosexuality, but the act of taking a mate of the sex you aren’t interested in for personal gain. The action of these men is typical abuse and the women go on destroying their psychological health through these empty relationships. This one (me) who is looking for a healthy relationship feels ripped off however the sociopathic women choose their life like dolls instead. While the jails hold the psychopaths. The police jail and court workers go on with their corrupt behavior in our region. It’s that that continues to choke our young women into a compromise. They are a social disease, we are under siege from sick nations and countries and our men are allowing our women and children to fall by the wayside to make room for more homosexual dominance. It’s time to liberate the inflicted to avoid more people crossing over to psychological toxicity. As these victims start to depreciate into self destructing and outwardly destructive tendencies. Psychologists must prescribe and teach like never before in this age of lies, abuse and corruption. LO-FI Music Explained JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 LO-FI MUSIC EXPLAINED The additional distorted data collected from the peripheries of our senses deliberately recreated and reproduced by means of adverse, outdated and unintentionally altered technology and style. Recorded or preformed ideally in the form of what we know as music and or film. broken record? More like audible snowflake. The geometry of nature get betrayed and expands when recording art under predetermined and active circumstances at the whim of the conditions of the environment and it’s setbacks. LO-FI Music/Media is the effect that the decay of our technology has on the pristine conditions in which we perform and record our visual and audible experience and the deliberate recreation and reproduction of these anomalies. Atonally thrusting forth with a foggy notion that these new audio and visual recordings of patterns that emerge from the more primitive forms of technology over time vaguely and remarkably respond to and compliment the setting of the reality intentionally being recorded on an almost conscious level. The question of how to activate them and where hey come from arises when artists of our own age with a knowledge of the recent technological and cultural past attempt the avantgard. Using predominantly analogue and traditional technology affected by time itself that we can alter ourselves in combined with natural (random) rate, voltage, velocity selection what have you to reproduce art AND what the ultimate effect of the recording process has on these works of avantgard art is the idea behind and the method LO-FI Music/Media. -James McFarlane (Seamus) I blew up Einsteins theory on insanity — James McFarlane (Seumas) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 Einstein said that the definition of insanity was repeating ones actions over and over again, expecting different results. I say that this behavior is far from insane. It is the fundamental law of how our development, bodies, daily lives, cultural traditions, reproduction, evolution and solar systems function. When looked at closely we see that even the most repetitious behavior is constantly changing at various rates. This is a law in all things in our universe therefore nothing ever really repeats itself. Rotations beautifully exist in nature and follow an imperfect geometry that we mimic in our cultures according the the schedules of the massive bodies above. Rock and roll, like opium or the moon have differing effects on the geometric patterns of our lives and evolution. Some rock an roll music by use of musical instruments (science) has combined the harmony of natures repetitious behavior (the drone) with the ever changing distortion factors like; time, mass, pitch and amplitude that are essential and fundamental to the evolutionary principle of repetitious behavior. Its the repetition that is the foundation we stand on, as long as your standing on it, expect something new to come about. Simply our presence in a scenario changes the physical and metaphysical environment at some rate, its our behavior and descisions that change that rate what manifests as the artwork or reality. — James McFarlane (Seumas) lyrics — James McFarlane (Seamus(Substreet Drones)) JAMES MCFARLANE·SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2016 NEW — weird song (2016) the reaper, put the beat on hold, bones dug up just like the sunflowers in the snow, now deeper into the river of sight, if you go in that cave dont turn out the light, white light shines bright, no stars tonight, behind the vox stack, their singin heart is black, subwayswhislting over my head, thank god i climbed aboard instead, reap what you sew 4x (coda) Heart is black ive been had (ive been had) ive gone mad (ive gone mad) ths is war, (this is war) i told you all this before i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, heart is black face the facts, art is black, oohicant stay, (ooh icant stay) cant go your way, (cant go your way) i felt you sweet smack, Your smoke is black (smoke is black) i beg you, i want you too, write me back heart is black face the facts, art is black, Beautiful face she thinks shes alright, butshes out of sight, swim in for a bite, underneath the white light, thining of fashons, and still looking smashing appealing to fools, out of all kinds of schools, lo frequency base, mixed with the acid taste, no it couldnt compare, to your beautiful face. you left a hole in my chest, a better shot than the rest, do you have five minutes, for a warhol screen test, at dawn i see a star burning not lie the rest, cant help but sit and wonder where its going next 4x cant help but sit and wonder where shes going next 4x Blue Haired BelleBlue Haired Belle, hangs around the gates of hellMorning stars get lost, in the flow of your blue sky locksDon’t despair, you’ve been on a track please take care, Come fly with me, its your blue sky that’s pure dont you see. Its alright You, me , everybody,we, see, only moonbeams,comets not so high,eathquakes in the sky,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright,lalalight n short in hight and , nananight and it’s alright, You light the way, through tunnels, try not the scrape, the gunnels,on the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timeon the right a cave in sight, it’s alright not this timelalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala lalalalaooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaooooooooooaaaaooooaaaaaoooooo Main Street When you called me up hereIdidnt feel like walkin, Now your sayin to me,youdidnt feel like talkinwhy are we so clumsy,so clumsy with our breadnow you tell me honey, how you keep your stomach fed, always lending yourself out, to the freaks that dot our lives,honey when you gunna shout, at those drones in out beehive,take a walk uptown, to the bucket where they drown,gunna tell them when they get out,to get theiur handouts downtown MorningAt the dawn of a new age,Sun comes up, smell the burning sage,take a step foreward, turn the pagesay goodbye to all those dark dark days, MAking a brew I stare a the fire,stir the pot, and then connect the wires,turn on the amp, the music inspires,got to free my mind from all the cheats and all the liars. Morningdrone You, you know what I mean, when isay,that nothings gunna happen today,and you, you know what imean,wheni tell you it’s just not my scene, you, yeees you, what the hell are we gunnado?and you, the only one you listen to, is a man, by the name of, Lou. We, yeees us three, could make it at a defferentpace,I, know that, it’s a discrace, Lord, take us to another place, So grab your stuff, your record albums,you take the wine, and ill take the guns, and into the ocean, we will go, cause you know, were headed, for the coast,so raise up your glasses, for a toast,ha, which one of us can drink the most,the father, theson, or the holy ghost,and you say that this car can race,but can it take us to that other place, a different side of mother natures face. take me to another place. Nothing drones honey comes from lots of work, sticky feet moving berserkpatterns form in crude beauty, drones fulfill a pointless duty, honey drips, from the hive, golden jkelly feeds their wife, pretty flowers messy home, nothing drones on like the cone, back and forth, in and out, dancing like we use our mouths,the pay is small and so are you, results of that sweetens my tooth, the task is never ending, constantly descending, dripping in the mouths of those not worth defending. Oppenheimer park Rolling down the open road, to the end of the line,end of the world, end of the illusion of time,I go down to the water, and feel the cool surf,hear music in the air and take it for what it’s worth, cant understand why people, could live on so little,when so much goes through them, and through the needle, so hasty, with the selling of their saved souls,the western downtown is bright, blunt, and bold. Walk up and down throughout the day, out of your mind,think of your home nevermore, till the end of timethe loop drones on and on like a broken clock,don’t need to climb the montain, cause your at the top Hastngs is not coming for you, your coming for it,like hell it bewccons like the incline of a pit,the east side, sits a nd people come from near and far,to sit, and sink, into the grass, in oppenheimer park oracle so your torched,your hanging by a thread,don’t scorch, your pretty little head,wishing through your lips that it worntpass,feels like your turning from a liquid to a gas, take a trip right to the edge of your mind, consciousness poured out and left behind,take a break from all the flats and all the sharpd,ride a cloud of nothing, and numb your broken heart To thew edge of your mind, distortion blurrs the line bettweenwhats out there and whats inside, deep in the cave, breath in the cold air,see shadows on the wall,… stare bring news just like homing pigeon,come down, and start a new religion, leave now, and speak out, littereally or metephorical,the knowledge you posess will make you the oracle. Pipe Dream A science experiment gone totally wronga weather balloon with some kind of evil about it,all the kids at school could see it above the horizon,my friends and i knew we’d be better off without it, king kong, walked along high street, where the freaks and thugs call home,if he could reach this floating disaster on time,he knew he would never have to die alone,hethough about it and realised the people wouldntunderstandhe knew their alien nation would turn this ape into a man, darkened minds turn on a dime, revolve in time along thin white linesyin and yang drip from a wolfs fang, one pulls the trigger the other goes band why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Darkened fool has lots of toolsd, dead at the deep end of the pool, boring times and pouring rhyme, the question, is this really mine? why can we get to the meaningof this philosophy of feeling, how do we break the silence of the checkerboard of violence. Psych em out Psychem out like rabid vermin, make em shout a phony sermon,see right through their simple game,right to their core their thoughts of shame, watchem blow upon the fire, rocks explode right on the liar, social change brings end to war, housewife trembles on the floor,backwardsforewards, up and downvoisc encircle all aorund, observeprecieve hear see know learn mirror be, identify possible flaws, of the menace with no causethe time is now, so try to learn how to bend the rules they use to keep you down. Rabbit hole Salvage you mind while it is illuminated, a fire out of control,a cabbage in ttime, right now it is fumigated, wired and housing a soul,badhabbits in line, schedualed to be terminated, inspire you out of your hole, A rabbit , redefined and underrated but higher than ever before, drink up while the tea is hot and bright blue, the flesh of the gods makes it so,3 caps and some stems is all i can do, to see shooting stars upon the snow, think sweetly of me, with emotions so true as yu stand and look through the window,think of thinkgs to do when im gone for good now, waving at the bus watching it go, Im down in the southland, with deep curving valleys and bridges all rusty and crumbling, with grasses all dying and rivers of green and subways whistling under me. a spot on the corner , a 30 dollar gutar, a case and a cigarette too, is all that i need to get usedd to my home and bring my mind closer to you. The last of this song, is all out of place, but the pace rings true to the rule, of the verses before i shut tight the door on the patterns lost and misconstrewen,becauseits all backwards and forewards like this, its in shambles but its not a ruin,the end of this 4 verse song has arrived, to the point you might not clue in. Sea of lights Rockj and rave, through the night,on speed in a sea of lights,jump spin contort thrust,black white pain lust,spent a week there last might, maybe more,steal yourself a holy death crouching by the door cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Standing there all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the whilestanding all in black behind the vox stack, from behind sunglasses, we inspire the masses, cause we all live in sin but it makes music sound new, go out on a limb, and let the world surround you, we rave through the atonal thrusts and the booms,tonight the flowers of evil are in full bloom, Walk and talk it through the park,whiplashgirlchild in the darkrun run run, take a drag shoot your speed while you brag i’ve been orchestrating behind sunglasses,immitatingprodogy, and writer, man, tomboy and a throusand fans zeppelin spotlights on my brain exploding plastic in my veinhypnotyic tones as the propellers drone,mind bending sounds, resonate undreground, dak circles never weed, new york 1963, Chcmysic, velvet freak desensitize alter tweak, no money car moon or sun, sell your blood for heroin,if she ever comes now now, moe beat on that drum now now,pink perfume, mantra neumes silk screen factory tunes superstar test only the best wine coffee speed heroin rest,darkcircl;es never weep, new yourk 1963,theyve been up for weeks, in the white light the tweak, in 63 Skeleton Here we are again, moneys all been spent, you don’t know where hesbeen,hes trying to fend off things that dwell within, hes a skeleton. at the end of days hes been here before he says, narrow in mannyways,hes a skeleton,andidont know where hesgoin, or why he thinks itssnowin, he can see the wind thatsblowin, hes a skeleton, Spotlight Reap what you sew,snakes and poppys in her hair,sun flowers in the snow,make you look like your not so old,it had been so long i could not recall her face,she came outside to meet me though iwas’t her case,nowi sit and wonder if I’m out of place,the memories i had of her, are in outer space Standing all in white, she sings in the spotlight, in darkness and style, we strum all the while,on the odd days I could talk to her,harmony and dissonence, a modern venus in furs,up and down that hallway, rotating the earth,waiting there for hours and hours, for her the quench my thirst. Sweet grass summertime,see the star shine, and i don’t mind revisiting those times,although my mind is blown, i play the drone,saying goodbye while you’re getting stoned. Vicious lips oooooo what to do,iwanna see you too,i think imgoin mad, ooooim not that sad noooi wonder sometimes where you are,what moon what planet under what star,id like to think your not that far, but we both know that trip was hard your vicious lips, eard on the airwaves, waking the dead, from their graves,your sweet, but your toxic, been three weeks since you dropped itI found it in my pocket, your trains comin I cant stop it You Made Me the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me,the reaper, put the beat on hold, turns to dust when they turn to dope,promises, he couldntkeep,to save a life, only three feet deep,you’re my catalyst, myonliness, decemberbaby,im the creep you made me, Come Back Around JAMES MCFARLANE·FRIDAY, MAY 13, 201610 Reads The process as a whole is always a learning experience like no other. Ultimately, like the brain has a recognition and physical atribute that corresponds with most chemicals in nature (possibly even synthetic chemicals) the psychological functions that a person can aquire are almostordaned and recieved in a timely fashion by the organ and im assuming the subconscious effortlessly and for evolutionary purpose. So I will assume everyones own, (however existential), growth experience is interesting. Having the atribute of spiking and deminishing of at least two of the brains most important chemicals related to experience, and behavior… and the awareness of the (most obvious to you) potential for not only chemical related occurances and their ripple effect, but the behavioral methods that the acute brain, manic brain, almost has a natural function to excercise and use usually either for a better survival or further expansion into astonishing existential and soon to be investigated parapsychological, social behaviors that tend to stick as long as they serve in a new type evolutionary (ie “Counter intuative”, productive and humanistic beavior that the mind eagerly draws in like an antennae recieving and storing up valueable energy. Setting this agenda and also surviving the early episodes, of bipolar, (which are usually the most drastic) are two hurdles to get over, let alone the crude, almost sickening archetectural features in our community hospitals, thats purpose cannot be desguised as heathcare to the human eye. A grossly overused assortment of bondage equipment and isolation chambers (not to mention your absence of any dignifying articles of clothing( also to be moved and set in place on occasion) nowadays plate glass walls, a whole dungeon setup designed by those people involved no less, who really probably care wheather the colour they chose or how their design would function better than the decaying sweat soaked ultimately in our home towns case, my favorite case, dried blood stained, apparenty approved for use by some dr, a single hallway, to alk up and down seemingly endlessly, untill not suprisedby the inevitable dread code white, that is the delight for the predominantly, …listen t me… dominated, by your average practicing as ferociously as they can with as little effort as possible, sociopath and more importantly to re ognise, violent violators psychopaths, who pretymch have the real pl working there stressin over what could possibly be these ppls capabilities, and are alienated inside by this evil thay cannot risk their ,,, virtully anything valuable, like a job or who knows, omg… thats why she left,,,,, so, yaa, these ppl rise like cream, annnnnd they have a really good time eeeehm, .. now nurse practitioners or legends, thir former dominator look like theyve aged, well lets say i was convinced they had beeen using prolongued use on heavy stimulents, like crack. iloldrewaout a blueprint with symboldsfr the patient advocate, neaysi mostly wantd to write and its alot of shit thats gone no doubt as home with ,,,lets say u know like fat cat. what, i was 15, and he was fat then, now hes the last one standing up there that i know of. oh yea… so i would say if u want out, and as of late i thing the design is perfect for the right ppl, socios included, fuckers, but, the dr, they are jst as careless as the security guards who cant hide haw stupid the really are and the odd couple who are revealing that their ok, still, idicovered, ,, maybe not in north bay, but in a proper community, like the city, ………..lost my train,,,, i think that i was getting at how just to be fair and …eyea 50 percent of the staff endowd with the ability to weildstrapps, and are encouraged by their no doubt under educated superiors, to always have the wrist ready to be broken if, now this brings me back,,,, they chokeyou, than comes the bondage that betty page would think is very unatractive, idk,,, the thing is,,, ya the drs, oh waut,, ok…. 1/3 of all of them are,,,, exculding the drs, and the janitors, who if ihaventdiscosedya are always there to pile up on a code white, and i know,, listen to me, no janitor ive met would grab my ass so hard on such a numerous a pile up, i have eyes in theback f my head,,,,,,, italalot,,,,,,, ppl that work so hard tp climb so not that far up the ladder in society, yes, sum of them are costume rocking witchcrftprodiges, who, will, 1 take the whole bunch of guys .. it may have been the forensic unit,,, this little thing is known by ,ppl, ive talked to about the psych who are inderectyl told by their others who work it, and ave stories about the oddity of us. iduno,, alot went down, but,, boring s yea she walks me throught e bysantine conduit iup to the floor, and the police have to walk somewhere behind to uncuff me and ta da, , y o iwanna bring up corporeal action when the best times,,, due to the conditios of bondage uuuuuuuuuuh were strictly through plate glass,,,,, ie. rare appearenced that are pretty much the only way. i really was bloody fucking thirsty 8percent and i mea ya,, when i was younngti chewed up braaaaan and drank my watttaaeer, and drew peace sighnsandd 7 days laterrrrr, after she sumhow managed to get an earbud into my head screaming for any colour you like by pink floyd, and playd the fungsonhggg, badassss. straight jacket. prolly day 4,,,,, i still think cough syrop is good for teenagerswhatver,,m took me to the top. ok… to get offf, the ward do as such; by Ultimately drawin on to no apparent end in crayons complete with nicotine gum (smokes,, the only freedom, not yet a right, that is so hard to get,,,,, and i learned to smoke in side the scarborough general hospitol,,, that room soon became the chamber, i would be locked in, for manny weeks, at different times,, thats where alot also hapened, is where the nude bondage asianfemaldr, ..whati mean i s theatwwhatwuldlou reed say… they never forgave us for nagasaki.,,, newaysive never spent more time in a i also a what appears to be and have bben told by assdocter of the north bay pstychwhi took to court at the hospitol and he got yelled at by a panel while my dad defended him and i ate cookies cus ii was really manic,,,, i also was 15 1/2… he later let me try and commit suicide,, thats a story of a different colour,, sounds like sprockets, idk,, idontwafe war with very real religiossympomatic shat, iuuuuuhm , so,,,, hereswahat krb8tujvcklwelbutrin.,,, ya, it istaken orally it shoul get right to work in three ad a half weeks, if suicidal,,,,, pray, oooir if u cant get dxedrine,, or sum speed beane drink a bottle of childrensgeapecoughsyrup once a day,,,, this acts as a seritonin reuptake inhibitor of a differrentcolour. 2 to 4 hours,,,iu get the mental stimulation,, it reall is a mellow buzz butttttyupppidecare fuck cough syrop…… dexedrineisnt out there and i know it couould really bbe used and they aslso do,, ie. jfk, addisons disease, dexedrine/anphetamine. so,, it will make y0ur 90 year old great aunt we all frogot about over in blind river get up from the abyss of alzheimers and dementia and sing thins is the day that the lord hath made,, ,but with real and concious interaction,,, without memory of course. however,,, she does that,,, did that anyway , but,,, im sure every month not every day,, at least one trial of … iuffingadhd adults can take it,,, why cant she. smeared into the grate of every window and the classy bubble rooom which actually was made with enough pride according to the regionnsid say, to have an even more, almost funny, and certainly battered scratched and spat on bubble for the head psychiatrist t poke his head into every few days. Lets not froget how that scene ended. like my father and grandfather before me who conditioned and alterred the correctiona institutions for fifty fife years now a conmfortablevacatin for psychopaths and whoever, not even the hole could stand up to point blank restraints naked, with your flimsy gown around your chest. at least in the bubble room there was lots of privacy, u know, to each institution their own, glass , bubble blood stained, probably 60 years of ppl that somehow said something that attracted the attention of their nurse, who no doubt vollynteered after printing your file which is most likely epic thick, there is no room for any of their creative stylings in that no, i did just smash the wall into pieces and ya all the insulatin is everywhere, high five and respect from my cute transference mistress, (and a couple others.) Perverts Dictionary (O_o))))))))))))) Trilateral — jinx No doubt — yes, super Doble- adorable, dobles, adobles Straight up — forthrightly, correct, right, or goof Throwing babies makes them gay Avant garde — protect the old (art) stay the same Downtown, — quiet not ratting Technology — rewind/splice mp3 interchangable Right up — shooting up Not up — free (not in trouble) Word — “my promise” new word, yes Naw — ya goof / no Buzz out — use vibrator / get high Drone- parapsychological anomalie Phe — speed (methanphetamenes) Stellar — awsum / the sun / single thing Figure — shape (claivoiance) One — god / goof Out-gay or leaving No doubt — ur gay / im gay. (For sure (im a whore)) straight up In — a goof out “my thing ‘ — claivoiant animation (repeated) Pentagon/circuit — terrific Duality — love or contrast in nature Straight — not gay or no drugs Up-in torouble/retarded/fucked Goof — crazy p/pedophile / molester/rapist/asshole Pervert-whore/hooker Asshole-incessant talker(mean) Solid-honest reliable Ethereal — heavely, sticky, Bird- girl pervert , moron Badass-pervert/violent, missile Idiot –saying nething Toad- smaker (heavy) old vagina A hard — a stiffy Eh eh- turning vol down and then up to trick parents in the 70s in quebec Bonhome — dildo, goof, good man Ein — get in /out (here) goof (French) ass hole/vagina Institution/church shouting= good Tabernacle-chest Coalis-chalise Zeut-fuck Fuck- rape/damnet or sex Stomping — raping Bang out- beat on Beat up — gay kids trying to get their frieing off violently Rank out — make someone stink by working them or hurting them / cast someone out canadian military style (gay) , gang up on someone till they freak out (psychopaths do it all over Canada)’ Trast- drunk /party/water Dai-morning, cool, fun, ausum, hello! Good-goof Story along-paranormal happening involving ancestral memory Psychic-all in one, prophet telepath Telepathic — mind to mind talker, thinker Telekinetic- moving things/ ppl Claivoiance- seeing colour from other ppls minds Rod-skyfish/fast moving anomaly animal Vaj-old or young vagina Oss — dog or baby vagina Grandma- bag in tree Candy — transsexual My honey — sexy (on the wind(throwing laughter(female))) Beating off — complex Wacking off-pervert Jerking off — solid (female) Move-walk / go Mullet-militia Freak –goof (black word) Ca — crap — crow call Germ freak-someone who forces germs on ppl Quay-(beautiful woman (cunt) — woman) latin Mead-morphene Rin — heroin (dust / cookie crumble) Beans — speed pills Rids — Ritalin No shit- of course Jib-meth Hellfire — run off meth (bad) Food — crack Molly-mdma /e Bombs — ecstacy cid — Acid (lsd) shrooms-magic mushrooms sterl — brother (little) afgan weed — brown pot kife — bad weed (shake) leaves) shibby — cool/goof cool-gay/awsum fade white — see white on od (heroin/mescelin(go to heaven/hell)) road — freedom — out of institution the suck — mescalin myth ast — perversion telekinetic- asty sortof meta/physical movement from the brain outwardly god — goof — one or christ lady stink — female deodorant leave it — shirt on chest (gay /bi) stop it hiboit gland — make you fat cured with amricain medicine merican — goof citizen of America Canadian- a sovereign citizen of Canada (incestewous clown) Were done — end releationship British — gay mongerers Nono –nig mistake Famished — thirsty / starved Sent — innocent Pervert — to change something and make it last nothing — absence, bipolar universai — multiple universes psykinetics — telepathy / telekinetics/claivoiance geniupsy — psykinetic offspring genius — generating new thought (brilliant) bipolar- up and down serotonin and dopamine, psychopath — violent person sociopath — not caring about neone oppositional defiant — opposing help borderline personality — victim misbehaving schitzophrenic — high fixed dopamine, fixed seretonin (normal)\ drone — unpiloted airplane, good worker, artist , schitzophrenic dick — enlarged clitoris get out of here — come here little child aced — gay men trying to get pregnant, daughter , sqaired away k — ketamine ass — dad/grandfather hun — little stut( skank) brecky — greek (breakfast) supper — jewish (Dinner) brecko — Italian (breakfast) avatar — ethereal image of oneself asshole — girl or boy or rapist (north bay / Chicago)\ goof — sad or sexy ethereal image from shame can be cured with desensitization (knumbaning) (telepathic) ya — pedophile dude — black pedophile Italian cowboy, fake doctor (candadian) huffin — pretending to be someone else while using telekinteicks in a sexual fashion. sadomasochist — paingiver/enjoyer earphoning — hearing ppl in ypur speaker — hold speaker up to ear and hand over other ear, psychopaths recommendation pur — rapist/pervert uggz — ug;y phile — pedophile ace — gays — rape — sister — grandma-brother path — telepath or a psychopath/sociopath, can — male whore cop- fake police (pedophile) musac — music laid — losing virginity glowie — acid victims (creep) ente old stupid goof dex — cough syrup bed down — tie to bed (north bay) fuck right off — screw my girlfriend\ fuck off — go cop the u- universe no shit — definitely mangina — friend spect-respect right up — repect straight up — disguise Italian — scot Adisguzi — disgusting excuse me No shit- really? Love — goodbyek“love” and the knowledge that one can be loved and in my case always, I only philosophise with the partial use of solid evidence that I have been loved by the one I love therefore at and for that moment(pretty much after the moment my phone died, after 30 seconds of reading trainpotting aloud, there was a subconscious subjective foggy notion that was there to be discovered by the psyche, at this moment I can prove using circumstancial evidence and truth know by both partied involved, the dependant factor being me loving her forever, and the independent factor her being a single indesisive woman looking for a man who will love her forever combining to make a positive chemical and psysical reaction, that is the fundamental tradition that is the goal of all living thngs on this plant and its most evolutionary form of it is when it’s “Love based” one giving the other what its most in need of and deprived of, the others love, not the love of a friend, but physical experiments that are love based, expressing love on not neccesarily a physical level (like if ur on the phone or sumthing)but specifically a sexual level. The compounding factors that result in reactions happenings cresendoes babies,, are when the energy isnt circular but moves in one direction, when the one party is starved, an the other has a wealth, and the act of giving not just what the yearning needs, but what he wants, when the desired with all her wealth, emparts her secret harboured denied expression love though tradional reproduction based activities, that friendship goes from “limbo” into action, even for a moment, through technology that alerts the senses, in this case hearing, wheather the deprived is even present or physically participating, isn’t the point the point is that the foggy notion of true love was expressed transmitted in a traditional and pivitol form, even though I picked up the transmission through one sense, my ability to hear, the value of those vibrations, though lo-fi and misenterperted until the last few seconds before the line went dead (FUCK), were interperated and acknowledged and the whole venus in furs philosophy of the one party giving the other what it wants so bad, but has been denied, and doing it with love, or what they BOTH KNOW is the kind of love that’s needed and given over finally with effortless, voluntary participation from the dominant, resuling in satisfaction in bohe parties (in my case the girl and I were more harmonized cause it was love based. Sex based, and send in the sacred medium of sound, and the talisman, the artifact, the memory the high velocity evidence that the message was of high fidelity, was that she didn’t use descriptive words (language) I was unfortunately (my medium at the time) it was her specific instrumental natural sirens alerting me to the intentions that truly lied behind her actions towards me even if it was for that day only, this medium I collected from the field is highly obvious and irreplaceable piece of art that is regarded by the mind of the homosapien on a natural level as evidence that it not just social interacton, its a higher form of interaction, sexual yes, the highest form, occurs only when the truly loving is truly loved, on a sexual level, which indicates physical involvement, and it did, only on one side, the side of the desired, the starvd had revieved the intention, and it was love, something metaphysical that can only be cofimed as occurring for ne length of time is undeniable corporeal action, even if its just her, givin er to you reading literature over the phone, the gift of reassurance that you are loved in this memorable case was not through words, but audible expressions from the depths of physical and mental activity from her diaphragm through her vocal chords and into my eardrum, was evidence enough that our seemingly healthy and thriving friendship was being held in limbo while I struggled with life and suffered over the denial of the true real deal love you were harbouring and saving in yourself for the future, didn’t dim and go out like a candle that burned up all the wax. Without official acknowledgement celebration and because I was still fucked up, without the long lasting relationship that we wished wold follow and planned for, the sound of her primal sirens, sent mono ideo-dnamically from her entire physical being emitting frequencies that resonate with the earth around her and correspond with the stimuli, me, the correspondence being the brief experience of hearing the broadcast of it, acknowledging the fact that no matter how flawed or un aware I was prior to precieving what was transpiring an how classicly themed to fit my experience it was, that the fucking phone died before I heard the end of it, I clued in to what was going on, (id been informed of this “drone”she makes by her ex boyfriend (the other guy) right before he drove his helpful and convenient car out of her life) Even if it was “her being noisy” it was fundamental sensual body chemistry, stimulated physically by the best means she knew how mentally by the imperative consciousness of the presence of the instinctualy, reproductivly essential of (in her case) a genuine male emitting stimuli, in both of our cases the stimuli was audio. The rare and most modern evolutionary trait is the simultaneous(I say this empathetically because were using language the figure this out not a live experiment going on right now or some shit) Emotional involvemint by both parties “while during coitus” bein, to into words, (I know that you’ve been loveing me so im gunna love you back) tho words are sweet but it doesn’t compare to the same message sent in the biologically, exceptional quality thats essential to the balance of the bodies involved and there connection to one another, the planet and the unverse, sound and where it comes from and the intention or involuntary reason for its presence and amplitude, dissonant or harmonious, perhaps my reading, my being on the line was the drone, and the harmony was her dissonant siren song. Its our new found puprose as humans to when ready reproduce. Love is highly evolved, and requires corporeal and linguistic and energetic action on both parties to be confirmed as true love. It works like a battery(the casing of the battery is the relationship here), one end needs what the other end has access to; the positive end has its own energy attached to it(the juice in the battery, posetve energy),(in this case this is our one, the girl)attractive body(+end)and a mind (the positive ends underside that’s harboring all the energy in the friendship/relationship (battery casing)the negative port on the other end of the battery on its outside (my mind in this case)is permanently attached through the casing of the battery to the mind of the desired, this girls memories thoughts etc. (the underside of the positive end) and not her body. Why because the casing is plastic,( the friendship) isnt enough to join the two to create a circuit, but the love(the battery juice made up of strange elemets) attracted by her negative mind(the underside of the positive end) and makes her body(the tip) fertile and ready to create electricity(communication) only the casing of battery acid(loving friendship)charged by my positive actions(the acid is positively charged by the underside of my mind(the negative ends underside) which represents my body, which behaves like the warm intentions of my actions, which positively go nowhere unless her mind (negative underside of the top of the battery)gets inspired by the love in the friendship (which is positively charged yearning, my positive actions played lovingly into her open mind(negative underside of the top) inspiring her to do something with her body(top of the battery positive) in response to my positive charge on her mind and all the love it can unleash, for the sake of warm intentions she turns on a cell phone,, her phone(or wire casing) the copper thread in the wire(the signal) the positive charge in the wire, (her calling me) and her hooking up the wire touching it to the negative end of the battery(her bodies actions and warm intentions inspired by a recognisable charge I embody that she identifies with(my body and life being negatively charged with aa positive mind and her beautiful face and attractive personality.) my phone rings and I see its her, the one, I immediately am inspired that its her charge the one im missing positively lovely, what is she up to? and i pick it up, A simple circuit at this point, is her using a tool or wire to send all her positive energy through to her body by using her minds attraction to positive energy, by simply attaching the wire it sends the positive energy not just through her mind and body but back down on her body, when the extension (the wire) is put on my mind(the negative end of the battery in this case, my mind),deliberately by her, sending the energized current of the love in our friendship (juice in the battery) into my mind(the end of the battery with a bump) by way of the wire (cell phone signals connecting our phones and her voice and energy being the current) all the positive energy meets the negative charge of my mind and then that foreign female tone (positive electrical current) the positive energy stemming from the juice, the love, that’s made up of elements like lithium(in the case of the battery and in my case as well) this element and other alloys, the whole chemistry of the battery acid, holds the charge positive because energy flows, and love or acid can be charged by the bi polarity of conducters meaning they are opposing one anothers charge on the outside leaving potential for power over nature, while on the inside, inside the battery the compounding nature of the universe is seen between you and me, me and the chemicals and elements the acid the love that is positively charged by me and only me, in this battery regardless of proximity my charge is still the key, litteraly loving you moved energy directly making me alternately free but obviously reflects its imperfections symetricaly and quite similarly to your perfect face and body only introspectively and this thing I call negativity you existentially use to control and manipulate me by means of electrical currents like a shark in the sea, but the ocean currents in our world somehow moved me so far we couldn’t be but as the drone turns up the heat as chemists cure insanity, inevitably the duality of the friendship followed the trail right back to me, from the beach into the city, while metaphysical acid rain fell on her black umbrella, drops of synthetic nightshade provided a ground and a side effect equaled a perfectly balanced sound resembling a circuit around my neck and down to the nervous wreck, I stand and smoke out on the deck, and remember that was how we met I stop, wait my energys charge self provides, enough energy to survive, with my new social activity the acid, charge, size, speed and proximity and the voltage of the current and relativity. My positively charged ablilitys that betray the moon like your fertility, a simple circuit cant explain the lovesick emotional pain still forming drops of acid rain only strengthening my brain, its time I have to get reactive, send this to her radically brilliant highly attractive yet negatively charged mind where chemicals of another kind will get inspired as she reads about batteries and his energy (that she secretly lovingly keeps rightfully under her locks and key with her sharp mind and memory should recall the flattery, the almost dead battery, poetic licence and mad hattery finally gets me through the matter we, lost all sense of pattern, see, the point was electricity, and keyboards I would never see, played like a former prodigy, with drones that resonate with me just barely metaphysically, through my sleep deprived behavior induced heightened state, Ive always been able to wait, epiphanies sometimes come too late, but revelations give me faith that your negative mind and my positive state, memories of how u altered fate, I know theres more to come but wait, don’t get offended by my state , my batteries dead so save the date, remember wiser things I’ve depictions finished in your head, an electrician would have briefly said, what took me hours, in ten minutes u will have read, I must finish without my meds, theyd knock me out, blow to the head, ill miss away you time instead, that lilliad inside your mind
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Javid Titanic AU - Part 13
This was not meant to be done tonight but what do you know, it is.
I’d say this chapter is like a 12 rating, maybe. It’s not that explicit, but it’s as not-PG as this story gets.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
Eventually turning back to kiss Jack started to give Davey a crick in his neck, and the sharp flare of pain brought some sense back to him. Whilst he had no desire to put an end to anything, they were somewhere that was incredibly public and increasingly uncomfortable. He wasn’t quite sure what would happen if another passenger or a crewmember found two men making out, but he figured it wasn’t worth the risk of finding out. Not when there was a far more attractive alternative.
Pushing Jack away just a little so he had space to climb down from the railings, Davey turned to face him.
“Come with me,” he requested, surprising himself with his confidence - he didn’t even have to phrase it as a question. “Anywhere,” Jack breathed, wrapping his arms back around Davey’s waist to pull him close for another kiss. He was completely drunk in love with this man and he would happily follow him to the end of the earth if it meant he got to kiss him and keep making him smile.
Davey grinned, giving in to the kiss in the knowledge that they were probably going to have to go without for a few minutes whilst they navigated their way through the ship.
“Somewhere with a door that locks,” he clarified, with an innocent smile – though he felt anything but.
Staring at him for a long moment, Jack tilted his head and tried to work out what Davey was insinuating. There was a lot they could do it a locked room, but there had to be a line somewhere and the sooner he knew where it was, the sooner he could manage his expectations. Still, anything Davey wanted to do was going to be worth it, so Jack nodded and let himself be led across the deck.
They dropped each other’s hand as soon as they heard voices, knowing that they were going to draw far less attention if they weren’t visibly together. Everything passed in a blur to Jack and he was glad Davey knew where they were going or he’d never remember the way from that morning. He was itching to grab Davey’s hand again or to push him against the nearest wall with a kiss but that wasn’t going to help them in their attempt to be subtle. Davey was giddy with the knowledge of what he’d just done and what he was going to be doing, and he was almost surprised he remembered his way around.
As soon as they got to the corridor that the cabins were off, Jack couldn’t help himself anymore. There was no one in sight so, taking the risk, he pulled Davey in for a brief kiss, catching him by surprise. Davey just blinked, a little taken aback, but not about to complain. There was a thrill that came with kissing Jack in public, he was fast learning, a shot of adrenaline to go with the rush of dopamine that kicked in. It felt like he’d downed a glass of wine too fast. Now he’d started kissing Jack, he was certain he’d never be able to stop.
Wanting to return the affection but knowing his room was only metres away, Davey took Jack’s hand and pulled him down the corridor. He fumbled in his pocket for the key, smiling when Jack’s hands found his waist again, and ungracefully fumbled with the lock mechanism until the door swung open. Once they were both inside he locked the door and left the key there so it couldn’t be unlocked from the other side. That click was the best sound he’d ever heard: no one was walking in on him this time.
When he turned around, Jack was watching him. He didn’t give a second thought to the opulent surroundings, he just couldn’t look away from the poor little rich boy who had turned his life upside down. Davey knew he was blushing – he couldn’t help it. Jack’s eyes were so honest and so open, and no one had ever looked at him like he was worth so much. Albert had been confusion and experiment and a little pent-up desire, but Jack? Jack was everything. Davey wasn’t confused anymore.
He crossed the room, snagging Jack’s hand as he passed, and sat down on the couch, pulling Jack down beside him.
“What – uh, what do you want?” Jack asked roughly, needing to clear his voice halfway through.
“Make me feel everything they say I shouldn’t,” Davey said. He didn’t need to elaborate, Jack got it.
Gently, Jack reached up and cupped Davey’s jaw, tracing over his cheek with his thumb. Then he replaced his palm with his lips, kissing a trail and shifting so his knees were up on the sofa and Davey’s weight was resting back against the cushions.
Kissing Davey was an experience. Jack started slow, hands tracing gentle shapes and lips barely brushing – because Davey was new to all this and he was trying to be respectful and courteous. Only then Davey would kiss back and bite at Jack’s bottom lip, and he managed to forget Davey hadn’t really done this before and things got rougher and deeper and hotter. Until Davey whimpered or gasped when Jack trailed a hand up his inner thigh or tugged too hard on his hair, and then Jack would remember who he was kissing and he’d slow things back down again, only for Davey to pull him closer, or guide his hand back to his thigh, and so the cycle repeated itself again and again. Jack was getting dizzy, and he needed a break for a moment.
“Still think I’m bad for ya?” he teased, leaning away to withhold another kiss until he got an answer.
Davey hummed for a long moment, unsure exactly what he believed now. “For my productivity and general sanity? Yes. For my public image and my relationship with my parents? Yes. For my soul?” he paused for dramatic effect, trying to maintain a blank face. He managed a couple of seconds before slipping into a smile. “You’ll do just fine.”
Jack grinned and leant down for another kiss, only to be stopped when Davey reached up a hand. He figured this was it. Davey had realised he’d had enough and was going to kick him out. He was biting his lip and looking guilty, so Jack figured it had to be that. Sighing and moving away, Jack resigned himself to grabbing his stuff and going back down to steerage. But then Davey grabbed his suspenders and stopped him going too far.
“Draw me. Like that boy,” he said, all in one breath like he was almost afraid of it.
He didn’t necessarily just want to be another one of the men in Jack’s sketchbook, just a face that Jack wouldn’t be able to put a name to in a year or so, but he wanted there to be something tangible to mark this. If they got to America and parted ways forever, he wanted to know that somewhere there was drawing of him that proved this all really happened.
Jack smirked, relaxing again. He knew exactly what boy, what sketch, Davey was referring to, but that wasn’t how it worked. To get a drawing like that, he needed the subject to be sated and drowsy and boneless.
“I’d need to sleep with you first,” he shrugged, certain it wasn’t going to happen.
“Yes,” Davey said, immediately.
Well, that changed things. Jack stared at him, shocked. Surely he wasn’t actually agreeing to the half-hearted proposition.
"Davey…?” he trailed off, laughing shakily. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears. He’d slept with plenty of people, but it had never felt as important as this.
“Yes,” Davey repeated, ignoring the fact that his hands were shaking and his cheeks were the reddest it was possible for them to be.
"You’re going to be the death of me,” Jack managed, completely thrown.
"Come here,” Davey smiled, climbing off the sofa and leading Jack through to his bedroom. Jack followed willingly, like he knew he always would.
Climbing back onto the bed without breaking eye contact, Davey stripped off his bowtie and waistcoat and undid the first couple of buttons of his shirt so Jack knew this was all okay. He was still in his clothes from dinner so it felt like there were far too many layers to take off, even if he had left his tailcoat behind at the table when he’d ran. Jack was happy to take over, finishing off the buttons and untucking Davey’s vest so he could splay his fingers out over his stomach and watch his breath hitch at the contact.
“Okay?” he whispered, needing to be sure.
Davey just nodded, reaching out to pull Jack’s suspenders down over his arms and frantically fiddling with the buttons on Jack’s tattered shirt. Laughing, Jack just pulled it over his head still half buttoned and tossed it to the side. He was still in a worn vest of his own but it was clearly the most undressed Davey had ever seen another man, from the way he wasn’t quite sure where to look.
“I… I don’t know how to…” Davey waved his hands vaguely, a little flustered.
“That’s alright. We can do this one step at a time?” Jack promised, kissing Davey gently when he got an enthusiastic nod in return. “You got any kinda oil?” he asked, afraid he already knew the answer.
Davey blinked, convinced he’d heard wrong. “What for?” “I’m gonna cook with it,” Jack teased gently, bopping Davey on the nose and rolling his eyes. “What’d’ya think it’s for.” “Oh!” Davey gasped, as soon as it occurred to him. His face suddenly caught fire, warmth rushing to his cheeks to turn them scarlet. They needed something so they could do that. He couldn’t think in more specifics – he was afraid he might get too lightheaded if he tried. Besides, he wasn’t even quite sure how everything worked. “No,” he said sadly. Oil hadn’t been something he ever thought he’d need, so there went his chance to get his drawing added to Jack’s collection of sketches.
Smiling fondly at the disappointed expression on Davey’s face, Jack pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek.
“That’s okay, there are plenty other ways for me to make ya feel good,” he promised, with every intention of making good on his word. He returned his hands to the bare skin under Davey’s vest and pushed upwards, planning on getting rid of all the remaining layers of clothing between them. Davey had no objections, not anymore.
***
They lay breathing in sync on the bed afterwards, neither wanting to break the comfortable silence first. Jack had no reservations about being naked, lying on top of the sheets and tracing Davey’s cheekbones with this thumb. Davey was shyer, tucking himself under the bedding and hiding just a little. He watched as Jack’s gaze turned from relaxed and loving to slightly more calculating. Just as Davey started to get worried, Jack rolled away. Reaching out to grab his arm, Davey whined in protest. He didn’t want this to ever end. If it did then he had to face his parents, and the longer he could put that off, the better.
Jack laughed, taking Davey’s hand from his arm and kissing the back of it like he’d done on the staircase. He reached down and pulled on his drawers.
“You wanted me to draw ya, remember? I gotta move for that,” he explained.
Davey pouted but Jack refused to be encouraged back to bed by those gorgeous blue eyes until he’d collected his sketching supplies from the sitting room. When he climbed back onto the bed with the paper and charcoal in hand he considered slipping back out of the underwear, but chances were Davey was going to be more comfortable if he kept them on.
Davey watched as Jack made sure the tip of his stick of charcoal was sharp enough and found an empty page in his sketchbook. He remembered that original drawing, the way it was scandalously indecent without actually showing anything, and he gingerly pushed down the bed sheet until it was bunched around his hips. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.
“This okay?” he asked, his mouth dry.
“Perfect,” Jack nodded, staring. He didn’t just mean for the sketch.
Shaking himself out of his fixation, Jack started to trace out the outlines for the drawing, lightly shading the parts he knew he wanted to be in shadow. Davey tried to bear Jack’s eyes on him, so intently focused on the planes of his body, but eventually he started to shuffle uncomfortably. Sensing he needed a little encouragement, Jack pulled himself away from the sketch.
“Hey, hey, no. You ain’t gotta get embarrassed. You’re pretty, Dave. Real pretty,” he said, and he meant it.
Blushing and wishing he could pull the sheet right over his head and hide, Davey mumbled something that sounded vaguely like thank you and resolutely stared a hole into the wall behind Jack’s head.
“Look at me,” Jack coaxed, wanting to capture that expression in Davey’s eyes.
So Davey did, and he found that Artist Jack had given way to the Jack who had made him feel like the world had stopped turning, just for a second, and that was all he needed to take a deep breath and relax back against the bed, holding still so Jack could finish the drawing. It might have been held in the same sketchbook as the picture of the stranger Jack had slept with before, but Davey was pretty sure this was different. Jack was going to remember his name.
Part 14
#newsies#newsies fanfiction#javid#Jack Kelly#david jacobs#let's not talk about how strange my google search history looks okay#titanic au#unlucky number 13#well not quite so unlucky for Davey#I wrote the second half of this listening to Bonnie and Clyde#so I'm surprised it isn't more violent tbh#although how it would end up violent I have no idea#also go listen to dyin' ain't so bad and imagine Davey singing it when they realise the ship is going down#like obviously that isn't going to happen#because Bonnie and Clyde was not written for about 100#years after the Titanic#but just imagine#spoiler: it's sad
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Awakening Ch 5.
Rated M for Mature
If ya recognize it, it ain't mine.
Chapter 5
Doc POV
Things had been going quite well for the three months we had been here and together. Nothing could have prepared me for the fight I had on my hands after “She” decided to pay the guys a visit.
Mikey POV
April walked into the lair with one turtle on her mind, Don. True she hadn’t been there for nearly eleven months, but that was because she was trying to see where a relationship with Casey would go. Turns out not as far or the way she wanted. She saw Don and walked right up to him and kissed him, and poor Doc caught her. And then what she saw and heard froze her dead; Donnie moaned and kissed April back.
Doc did the only thing she could do. She went to the dojo and climbed the ladder to the cat walk. I watched the light that had been in her eyes not five minutes before peter out. The hurt in her eyes, hurt me. I intentionally lost Rock, Paper, Scissors to Raph three times, to go check on Doc. When I got there, she was softly singing a song I didn't recognize. She told me it was ‘Blame It On Me’ by LeAnn Womack. It was so sad, like a broken heart. I hoped he was hearing her. There were tears rolling down her face.
“Do you have ANY clue what you just did,” I heard Leo shout, his anger palpable in his voice.
I looked over the railing to see a scowling Leo dragging April out by her arm and Raph talking lowly to Don.
“Do you know what that woman looked like when she walked away? Do you have any clue how lucky you were, to have a woman like that?”
“Who,” I heard Donnie ask.
Doc must have heard it too because she started bawling on my chest.
I looked just in time to see Raph point to the catwalk.
“Oh, Shit! April kissed me and my head went blank; I completely forgot she was home. How do I fix this, Raph?”
“You gotta figure that out on your own, ya idiot.”
Leo POV
I was beyond pissed as I dragged April away from the lair. “Do you have ANY idea what you have done? They are twin flames, April. You can’t do this. You can’t spend three weeks with Don then leave for Casey for nearly a year and expect my little brother to not move on! He has been hers since he was 14!”
April just smirked, like she had gotten exactly what she wanted.
Mikey POV
I took it on myself to borrow Donnie’s button cam and follow April. I followed her to a non-descript house where an old woman ushered her inside quickly. I watched from a window to see what happened. April had been buying love pheromones from a priestess. In effect, when April comes around, D can’t think straight. And while the part of him that is Doc’s twin flame fights it, his mind clouds and forces his body to give in; to submit to April and what she wants.
As April left, I hurried back to Doc with the footage. I knew this would break her heart, but I hoped she would be ok by band practice tonight.
Don POV
I was in a haze and couldn't get out. I could feel Wolf, smell her, but not find her; a woman I would know if I blind and mostly dead. I let Leo and Raph drag me to the warehouse where Doc and Mikey’s band was practicing in the hopes that I could understand how she felt about whatever was going on. I know it started when April came back, but you can’t drug someone from a kiss, can you?? I know you can poison someone that way,
Furthermore, why? Why drug someone with a kiss and coerce them into feelings they don’t have? What is the point?? Anything you do to them at their request or request they do to you is tantamount to rape. A shiver ran down my spine as Mikey set down at his drum set and Usagi got the dials set on his bass.
When the music started, I realized that I knew that song. It was Blackbriar’s Until Eternity. I was amazed at Wolfs voice belting out that particular tune. It made me shiver in a VERY good way.
However, it was the last song in their practice that almost killed me. It was by Too Close To Touch; their song “What I Wish I Could Forget”. I also got to hear her vocal range. But, in hearing her range, it was hard to hear her fall apart like that.
I knew this space between us hurt her just as much as it did me, but until I could figure this out, I needed to keep my distance. What if the stuff April had been drugging me with could be transferred to Wolf? I’d never be able to forgive myself. ‘Ah, dammit’, I thought as the fog rolled in again. That stuff has got to be something that has an adverse reaction to serotonin and dopamine.
Doc POV
For a week the guys walked on eggshells before Raph came to me and said, “Fix it! I am sick of listening to him whine and I’m tired of you acting like a ginormous bitch.”
Little did we know, Splinter said more or less the same thing to Donnie, at the same time as Raph was “talking” to me.
It was a few more days of us avoiding each other before it finally came to a head though. April and Donnie went on a date and I took the kids to Casey’s. When the kids and I came home, I got my pillow and blanket and lay down on the couch. Donnie didn't get in until almost 2 am.
Leo caught me crying in the bathtub 15 minutes later. He stayed with me until I fell asleep, all the while whispering that his brother was an idiot.
The next morning I woke up in Leo’s bed. I have no idea how I ended up there, but the migraine gave me a hint. There was a note he left for me on his night stand.
“You finally cried yourself to sleep at 4am. I brought you up here to let you sleep. Come to the dojo when you wake up. The Gatorade and Tylenol are for you. Sorry for the broken-hearted hangover.
Hugs, Leo
P.S. He really doesn’t deserve you.”
When I got to the dojo, all but Leo had left. He smiled a soft, sad smile and hugged me gently.
“I meant what I said,” he whispered. “You deserve to be treated like a queen, not an afterthought.”
“Damned right she does,” said a rough voice from the doorway. “Ya better go talk to yer boy. He’s fixing to leave again.”
“Why,” Leo whined.
“Because the homewrecka called and you lost the coin toss.”
Leo sighed heavily and went to talk to Donnie about April. The guys could all see something in him change, like he was coming down from a drug. What had April been giving our Donnie. It was like he was suddenly struggling to keep up with what had happened in the last few weeks.
Don got angrier and angrier at Doc and her findings until…
“What the hell is your problem with April,” Donnie yelled at me from the doorway to the dojo.
“Seriously,” I yelled back as I turned to face him, “For 20 years, I watched for your lanky ass, just to be thrown into a place I don’t know, without any warning, and just when things are starting to go good, you let ‘Little Miss Perfect’ back in!”
“You can’t pin this all on me! You got married remember,” he yelled.
“I got tired of waiting on a dream, Don,” I shouted in my frustration; my hands wrapping in my own hair.
“Is that all I was; a dream,” he shouted.
“No, Don,” I sighed, “you were everything to me,” I stopped and turned away, wrapping my arms around myself, as I tried to keep the hurt from my voice. It didn’t work, as when I started talking again, my voice was small and it cracked. ”I know you told your brothers all about me. If I tried to tell anyone the littlest thing about you, I got told I was crazy; that there wasn’t a man like that out there for me. They’d tell me I was crazy for dreaming, for hoping, for the lonesomeness that ate me. That I was somehow defective for this empty, hollow spot in my chest. So, I found an amusing distraction that made the constant soul-deep ache almost bearable.”
“And there is nothing that makes it stop, much less slow down. It’s like a wildcat freight train. I tried a TON of stuff I really shouldn't have and when I realized I liked the numb a little too much; I tried more esoteric ways. None of those worked, they just gave me enough guilt to be a Jewish woman.”
I sighed again, letting my shoulders and head drop, “I’m sorry. I’ll have ‘Sagi take me and the kids back as soon as he can,” I started to shuffle away when a three fingered hand closed around my right wrist.
“Please don’t go,” he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. ”Please don’t leave me.”
Instantly, I saw him sobbing on me at the end of my last life.
“Don,” I started, only to be cut off.
“Please look at me, Babe.”
I turned away as the tears slid down my face. “Don,” I whispered as I wiped a tear from my cheek.
“Wolf, please,” he choked out, his own voice breaking.
“Hawk,” I answered, my voice barely above a whisper as I turned toward him, unable to keep the hurt or the tears from my eyes anymore. Unable to hide my shock at him breathing a name he hadn't used in weeks.
In the space between heartbeats, we were in each other’s arms, both of us sobbing. His arms were around my chest, his left hand resting on the back of my right shoulder, and his head buried in my neck as he held me close. Mine were around his neck, with one curled around his head and the other hand gripping rim of his shell. I could feel him shaking with his tears long before I felt them on my skin.
“I’m so sorry, Hawk,” I whispered into the side of his head. “I hope that you never had to feel even a tiny bit of that hollow emptiness. Oh, God, Baby, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too, Babe,” he sobbed, “I shouldn't have acted like I was the only one hurting. You found a way to give me everything I asked and I couldn't even attempt to give you the one thing you wanted. I took you for granted and you deserve better than that. Please don’t leave me; not again. I know I don’t deserve you, and I know I don’t tell you often enough, but I have always, always, loved you, and I still do. If you still want it, want me, it’s yours, just say the word. If you don’t, if I have screwed this up so bad we can’t fix it, just…Mmhm.”
Dons POV
She stopped my rambling by kissing me, which I admit, was quite effective. As we kissed, so softly, gently, and sweetly, I gently pulled her close and felt all the hurt and the hollowness slip from the both of us. It was like all of those wounds we had left each other with finally got to heal, and our hearts started beating in tandem again. It was at that moment I finally understood what had been missing all this time. It was her and the taste of a kiss full of promises. Ones I would never again allow myself to break.
Raph’s voice from the door way broke us up, “Better now?”
We both nodded, wiping away each others tears. As we did, two strong arms encompassed us both.
“Good,” he commented. “I guess even the brainiacs need a swift kick every now and again, eh.”
A/N--That fight was hell to write out.
#tmnt#tmnt leonardo#tmnt leo#tmnt raphael#tmnt raph#tmnt donatello#tmnt donnie#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt mikey#soulmate#soul awakening#twin flame#twin souls
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