Thread: Prevaricator
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Old 09-20-2006, 06:38 PM   #2
comic_geek
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Bulletboy -07 august 2005
Sunday 07 august 20:08
Writing from: the luggage compartment of a train
Thereís no better cure for pain than pain and nothing makes you forget your troubles more than more troubles.
Im on a train on the way to a publishing company
Ive been so worked up with what im going to say that im sure if I open my
Mouth the prepared speech ive been turning over in my head since Piccadilly
Station will fall off my tongue. Finally all the bits of paper that gather on my desk
And the ink stained arms have paid off. Its true, had things turned out better
I would still sleep at night without the aid of pills and when I did get to
Sleep my dreams would those of an average teenage boy ...........
About sex or girls or cars but on the flip side had things turned out for the better I would never be here.
It all started when I first saw you slumped in the corner of the school field reading a
Book way beyond your years your hair flopped over one eye casting a shadow
On your face. I guess right there at that exact moment I knew that you were the one for me
It was far more than looks though it had to be said you were stunning. Your jet black hair that
Fell to your waist contrasted with your pale complexion the eye that visible was the most striking
Shade of blue and the other hazel you made my heart beat fast and slow at the same time ..........
I was in love. Of course you had no interest in me I was small for my age and with green
Eyes and black hair that stuck up at funny angles with a few freckles scattered across the bridge of my nose
No different from the other 100 boys that attended st Pauls .that night I went home and told my mother
That I was to have a new haircut.....................she said no. so I pulled up a stool to the bathroom
mirror and took my fathers razor and comb and set work after ten minutes I accepted defeat I looked like a
Balding cat (not the look I was going for).I cried the next morning when I was sent to school I
Couldnít get an appointment at the hairdressers until Wednesday and as I wasnít sick my mother
Thought it was unnecessary to take a day of school. I was prepared for the most humiliating day of my
Entire existence but as I arrived at the bus stop I noticed that you were sat on the curb with your head
Hunched over a book. I decide to cut my loses and skip school my mother was going to
Kill me but it was a far better fate than social suicide. I turned around only to collide with a 3rd year who found my hair
To be the highlight of his school life and told me so. Before I could get away you looked up from
Your book I was completely taken aback by your beauty and helplessly frozen where I was I felt my cheeks
Flush scarlet but just as I turned to run away you grabbed my hand and said "did you do that just for me?".
I spent the next six years watching you develop into an even more beautiful women and everyday
Id asks you why you were with me you would simply giggle and reply "because you cut your hair for meĒ.
Of Course my body worries have become less trivial now and I am no longer small for my age.
My black hair sits just below my ear and my fringe hides one green eye a silver loop gleams in
The bottom left hand corner of my mouth and my arms are inked with art. Iím painfully thin which
Is accentuated by my tight black skinny legged attire and my chin sticks out too much though
Iím told itís chiselled (which is good ......... I think).
So now Iím sat here on this train in my best black jeans and a crisp white shirt I havenít
Worn since college .I canít deny it I feel naked, in an effort to make a good impression ive removed my piercings.
And refrained from applying eyeliner. My lip ring is my touch stone I had it done when I was 14 .
I was having a hard time at school and I decided to distance myself even more it was an alternative to the self inflicted
Pain id seen the other "different " people in my school chose but now it was like a part of me. Over the years
Ive had more "mutilation" as my mother calls it ...........ive recently taken to having poetry tattooed on me.
My arms are like a map if you look closely you can see all the times ive had new piece of art for a
Broken heart thereís my first tattoo on my wrist a wobbly star that I did my self with a compass and an ink cartridge
Your name in Latin down my forearm and a collection of quotes words stars and numbers that make up
A sleeve on my left arm. You look at the type of people with piercing or tattoos the ones
Who look like they have a high threshold for pain there usually the ones who hurt the most.
Thereís no better cure for pain than pain and nothing makes you forget your troubles more than more troubles.
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