Anno Nuovo — Felice 2016

I know that no one reads these things anymore, but telling myself that people do makes me want to write them. Even if no one reads blogs any longer, I'm going to write them regardless. They give my mind a break from writing and exhausting itself out.

HAPPY NEW YEARS, BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE


I'm a month and 13 days late, but it's alright. The year's still fresh enough for that to still be acceptable.

Before I actually get immersed in this blog post and all in my feels, I just want to see that I love free layouts up for grabs. I'm always weary when looking through the blog layouts because I want to be sure that they weren't meant for someone. I double-triple looked over the list. All in all, I chose this beauty by Raveena (decay) called "Paint." It is absolutely gorgeous.

I'll stop wasting everyone's time now with fluff.

You see, I meant to write this blog a month and 13 days ago. Believe it or not, I actually did. I could lie and say that life got in the way, but it would be a lie and I have no reason to lie here. I am a heterosexual cis female that has gotten no action in her lifetime whatsoever and has written about homosexual males getting it on not once, not twice, not thrice, but four times on this site (five, if you count my involvement with Quotev). I really can't do any harm to this site. If anything, I'm only helping in the expansion of its beautiful wonders.

I digress. I didn't write this blog a month and 13 days ago not because life got in the way, but because I didn't want to. I didn't feel like it. And each time I tried, I would word things in ways that I didn't like it. But I have things to share. I can't let those things go unshared because I can't seem to word things right. It will eat me alive if I do.

I have a plan for this year. Well, not really a nice, structured plan, but I have good intentions. I want to do good things for myself and in turn, do good things for you. This plan includes a story that I would like to introduce to you, called Skinny Boy Olympics. In no way, shape, or form does this title imply that there will be an issue with eating disorders or such. Nu-uh. This is not that type of story. I can't write stories like that because I would never get them right. There's too much that goes on with eating disorders that I wouldn't be able to put into words because I have never experienced one. I'll leave those stories to people who know what they're doing.

Again, I digress. I want to share my motivation and muse for this story. The title is a hidden reference to sex being looked at as a game. The "skinny boy" is a character that I have developed so deeply that I love him as my own child: Theodore Troy. For Theodore, sex is a game. Mentally and physically. It's a temporary bandage for him and calms him down, like sports may for some people.

The muse for this story stemmed from the wave of popularity of the Daddy kink. I wanted to try to write about the media naranja of that — the Mommy kink. However, Theodore doesn't look at his habits as a kink. He seems them as an issue. It makes him feel sick. He gets a kick when older women call him "baby boy" and for that, he hates himself.

The story begins on a three-day vacation to celebrate the graduation of the seniors of Hillion High School, a high school not far from where Theodore graduated from at Ridgemoore High School. His best friend, a fresh Hillion graduate, brings him along on the short vacay. There, Theodore meets Kendra Brooks. And (like you weren't expecting this) he falls in love with her, despite the fact she has a boyfriend.

I can't tell too much without ruining the entire plot, so I'll give you a very small excerpt from a later chapter.

LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION.


"What about a few of the supermarkets? I'm sure they need some more cashiers."

"They're not going to want some kid whose been in and out of jail for petty crime, Kendra."

"You're not a kid. You're nineteen-years-old," I reminded.

He let out a low laugh, lacking more pure humor than usual. Perhaps the conversation was working his nerve as much as mine. I wasn't annoyed with him, just the predicament I was in. "My mommy complex, as you so graciously call it, would argue otherwise."

If I were holding something in my hand, anything, I would have thrown it at him. "That's not even funny, Theodore. Can you be serious for one second?"

His faint smile disappeared within seconds and all that was left was the ghost of it. I wanted it back. "Believe it or not, Kendra, I am being serious. I have some mommy issues and I can't fucking help it. Moms wasn't ever there and my dad thought I'd grow out of my want to fuck all of his friends' wives because they'd hold me close to their chest and tell me that there's nothing wrong with me."

"Theodore," I warned.

"Don't do that. It's not fair. You never want to listen when I try to explain myself to you. I listen to you. I've listened to you all day long bawling your eyes, telling me how torn you are trying to make your relation with Kenneth work. That's fine. You could talk to me all damn day about different brands of nail polish and why one works better than the other, and I still wouldn't mind."

He was making me uncomfortable. I wasn't afraid, I didn't fear for my well-being. It was the simple fact that I had never seen him appear so fervent and desperate about anything before. I didn't know how to handle it. "Weren't we talking about work and possible jobs?" I tried.

Theo shook his head and folded his arms against his chest. "No, we were talking about that shit boyfriend of yours and why I believed that I deserve you more than he did." I didn't respond. "But I can't possibly get through to you if you don't understand me and if you don't take my conditions seriously."

"Your mommy complex is hardly a condition, Theo. You're not mentally ill."

"It's not a fucking joke either, Kendra. I don't fuck older women because I want to have sex with people who are more experienced. Less than half of them have been experienced. I fuck with those women because I'm looking for something. I'm looking for comfort, for security, for the notion that someone still fucking loves me. Maybe Moms didn't stick around because she didn't love Liv and I enough to stay, but for the longest, I believed that those women could."

As much as I wanted him to know that I was there for him, hearing about it, actually hearing the logistics, made me feel sick to my stomach. "Theodore, I can't leave Kenneth for you."

"If it makes you feel better, you make me forget about that. When I'm with you, I don't even have the desire to go find me an older women. I don't need excessive comfort and reassurance that of course, Moms loved me. Kendra, when I'm with you, I know my own worth, just because someone like you gave me the time of day." His voice dropped to a whisper and for the moment, he seemed so tiny and helpless. Never had I seen him so small. "Kendra, I never thought I'd come across someone who could make me forget the hate that I have for myself. You're a fucking blessing."

My mouth went dry. I should've been basking in happiness with his confession, but I couldn't get past his troubled mind. All I wanted was a little trouble in my life yet his was too much for me to comprehend. "I'm in love with him, Theodore."

"Right..." he mumbled. "I almost forgot." He picked up the glass and downed the rest of his drink before placing it in the sink. The tension in the homely kitchen was hard to ignore.

I stood up, wiped my face with the backs of my hand for good measure, and grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair. "I think I should go."

AND SCENE!


So, that's the gist of that. Don't be afraid to go check it out. The first few chapters are slow, but that's okay. The juice is on its way. The story sounds a bit sketchy, but I'm emotionally invested in this. It's written in Kendra's point of view, however every third chapter is through Theodore's eyes. I'm excited for this. Maybe one of you are, too? That'd be cool.

Moving on from that … I have a few other things I'd like to do. I'd like to finish Falling Stars, for one. It's been a year since I started that story yet Annette and Weston have yet to kiss a second time without one of them running. I also have a lot of juicy things for that story. Also excited.

I would also like to bring light to a story I have called Su Amante. It's English title is Her Lover. It centers around two people: a man named Manolo Trevino Aguilar and a woman named Taylor Hopkins. Manolo was born and raised just outside of Santiago, Chile. After years of an fairly well childhood and upbringing, he makes the decision to move to Missouri to attend college. By the time he hits 23, he's got himself citizenship to the United States and a Masters degree in English. Over the years, he encounters great people. He's got himself two best friends from college, Harold Dickinson and Jason Olivarez Garcia. He also managed to score himself a nice girl, Aika Yukimura.

However, in a fatal car crash, Aika loses her life and Manolo loses the hopes he ever had of creating a life with her.

Five years later, he meets Taylor Hopkins at a club in the heart of the city. She sets off a flame within him that he thought had died with his Japanese lover. However, like Kendra in SBO, Taylor has a boyfriend. Unlike Kendra in SBO, Taylor lets temptation traps her and sleeps with Manolo, creating a mess for her and him.

It's all heart-wrenching really. However, I'm excited for it. I don't condone cheating, but I also don't like to make a villain out those who've done it. If you expect that in this story, well…There's a lot of it that goes on. This story probably isn't the one for you. But if you don't mind because it's just fiction and no character is really getting cheated on in reality, feel free to read it.

It will be good. I'm sure of it.

Fun fact about all of those three stories I just mentioned: each of those have African Americans or part-African Americans as one of their main characters, and it's Black History Month! I didn't do that on purpose, but I'm happy about it.

Moving on from that …

In addition to pushing those three stories forward, I basically would like to finish a good portion of the stories I have started, such as a Collection of Wistfulness (ACOW), Old Friend, the Beautiful Robbery (which I might change the title of, again), Dirty Water, and Oh, How I Hate Cherry (OHIHC). Maybe even Unorthodox and the Boy Toy. Those are both pretty funny.

Then I can focus on rewriting stories and such. Looks like I've got a busy year. But that's alright. I'm really exciting and I'm really ready to immerse myself in these stories.

If you read all of this, thank you. It means a lot. It's also nice to know that people do still read blogs. Blogs are alternative to writing stories and poetry. How've you guys been? Hopefully great. If not, I hope you feel happy again soon.

Stay true to yourself and again, Happy 2016!
February 14th, 2016 at 12:52am