"What Can I Do?"...

... I said with a panicked rush.

"I don't know," Daniel, oh! what a great failure she was, cried in horror, half for her friend and the other for her guilt.

I continued pressing my body weight on the towel between my own hands and the bullet hole threw Steven's chest. For it was all I could do. No, it was all I should do. I could do more. Cry, yes, crying would be something I was capable of, but in this company I remained resolved. Crying was best left to the victim's wife and soon-to-be murderer.

Those green eyes, which possessed so much beauty, looked straight up at me, not with a look of sadness, fear, or agony, but rather, with a look of relief and thankfulness. I could cry out to him, "Do not thank the bitch which done this to you," but I shouldn't, for the gun that expelled the painful metal into his skin, would just as easily produce an object which would pierce my own, if Daniel was given a reason to fire it at me. I remained quiet as Steven, lover to both Daniel and myself, ceased to breath life.

Still, I remained contained.

---

Egads-bldijgaskejg;s...

Eh, I was told I should write everyday if I really want to be good. And today, I just wrote. I've been a bit down this week, so I wanted to write something emotional and depressing. So I did. It's shit, but at least it's written. I've done my daily practice and now am going to bed.

Comment if you desire to.

Although, there are cookies in it if you do.

Aaron; Emo isn't a style, it's a way of life.

And He Cried, and He Weeped

...like a woman does when two men in uniforms walk slowly up her porch, bearing news of her husband's, boyfriend's, son's death. He was no different, standing before the tombstone of deceased love. It was not a funeral, that had been years ago, or so he imagined. 1983 - 1995 where bold characters, engraved in the granite. Eleven when he was taken from the world, but it wasn't true. Floyd had known him and dated him and loved him for two years, when he was twenty-four. He saw him, kissed him, loved him yesterday. He was not murdered thirteen years ago; he was murdered yesterday. And Floyd saw it, he even saw it happen. He saw it just before it happened, but when the head of the eleven year old version of himself was dunked into the pool, drowned, he vanished next to him, and Floyd wailed and cried out for him, but his only option was to bang on the cage that held him. Steven, in a moment of immense empathy, grabbed Floyd into himself, trying to calm him, while Daniel worked on sending them back to the present.

---

I wanted to write something this morning. And the only thing that came to my head was a scene from a movie I was dreaming up called Protect your Past. It was one of the most touching scenes I had thought up, at least for me, and I wanted to write it out.

As always, comments / critiques are encouraged.

Aaron; Two buttons and a zip.

Two Days on the Road

But it only took the first hundred miles to know it was perfect. The smell of cheep cologne on his body said, "I'm trying, please give me some credit." And it was cute. He blushed, nervous, but maybe it was something else. Two other 'friends' in the back. One with curly black hair, blowing across the back seat of the car, because the windows were rolled. The air conditioning broke a few years back. The other wore a constant frown. It was impossible to tell what small idiosyncrasy burned a hole through his happiness this time. Although, nobody showed expressions of caring, which lead him to believe they didn't. Most likely souring his mood again.


--

I'm so done. I miss Emma. And I also got to play with some of my friends in Scarshield. They're so cute, all... "OMG, you're gay! I love gay people." I just think that's so adorable. Anyway. I'm tired, and have a bit more studying to do tonight. Sweet dreams, my friends.


As always, comments welcome on my writing.


=_Aaron; Boy who likes Boys > Manly Man. (In respect to tanking. Bitch.)

It's a Promise Ring

It's just a fucking promise ring; beautiful gold band burning the skin around my left-handed finger down to the muscle and bone. Engraved on the inside it says, "Love always," with this tone which I only understand. It makes me sick, the insincerity of it. "Love always." What does that mean, anyway? What happens when another girl catches his eye, and I'm left with a hand with only four fingers. He can love me all he wants, but I know it means shit. A woman scorn, maybe. But I'm not that simple. I desire to enjoy the company he brings. But the pain is an added side effect, I can no longer swallow. No, tomorrow, this beautiful piece of jewelry will burn a hole in his palm.

Aaron; Have you seen my face, I think I lost it on the horseback ride.

P.S. I heart u and miss you while you're in france.

Edit: I hate you, blogger.
Edit2: I hate you, Aaron

His face looked like a steamroller...

... made its home on the very tip of his nose. The man was a sad sight to the people that passed him on the street, which his nose, which seemed broken and red. Broken because there was a decent possibility he was jabbed earlier and red from the cocaine which burned inside him. Yes, this man was a sad sight to the average man, but worse were those who stood by, allowing him to live as such.

How would you deal with him? Protect him by taking him into your home? Walk by with visors keeping you from believing he is really there? Or would you take a gun to his head, like he asks, and plaster his brains on the sidewalk?

Aaron; ...

(On another note; I have a new profile song: "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap. It beautiful. Listen to it. Here)

wat es ^ yal1!

Today, today, today is October 25, 2007, and I'm content. I mean, I have no drama ('bout damn time), I have signed up for classes for next semester (Yay! I got into Video and Audio EDITING!), and I got a new TCOM adviser (He's supposed to be an amazing writer, so I'm excited!).

What am I doing for the day? Let's see...

• After I finish Blogging, I'm going to watch Brothers and Sisters and Dirty, Sexy, Money on abc.com
• Goin' to have lunch with the fabulous Rachel and Shara.
• Probably play some Druid for my brother.
• TONIGHT! I have Karazhan again with Antagonist. We're going to attempt Oprah, Curator, the Shade of Aran, Illhoof, and the Chess event... maybe less, maybe more.
• Then after that is over with, I'll hopefully join my Rachel with Britney and Chloe at a Jazz thing. I'm pretty damn excited for that. I like Jazz, sort of, it's fancy.
• ... I believe that's it.

I guess I don't have much to say. I'll give a cyber-sex to Rachel since she's not having the best of weeks. And that's all, folks, pretty boring, but content. ;D

Current Mood:
Current Music: Wine Red by The Hush Sound

Tablet Work

So, I'm working on a few projects. I bought a Wacom Drawing Tablet yesterday and plan on using it to make some sweet art. So, check my DeviantArt profile every once in a while to see if I posted anything new. Apart from that, I'm still working on Protect Your Past and a ton of school work. Hell Week has extended on to it's second/third week. I can't even remember, it's just melting together.

I am excited though, slightly nervous still, about tonight, because Antagonist is fighting Nightbane (or Nightwipe) as my brother calls him. We should get him, I hope we get him... Wish us luck.

Mood: worky
Music: Feeling Lucky by Jimmy Eats World