Fraud

You’re a fraud.

“Excuse me?”

What? You thought I’d never say it?

Did you think that I lacked the courage or that I couldn’t see it?

It’s so evident it’s borderline embarrassing.

You ask, “How are you?” one moment, the say “Goodbye!” the next.

Before I even got to say a word.

What response did you expect when you couldn’t share one breath?

You’re “busy”.

LOL.

I absolutely get it.

The most important thing in this world is time.

Who you devote it to might as well be your bride.

I love that excuse, as if you think that a year from now you’ll be less busy.

Think about that for a moment.

Excuse me… where was I? Oh, that’s right.

You smile as you listen to my stories – actually that’s false!

To listen you must hear and when we speak you’re clearly a world away.

Your smile’s as thin as a razor, cutting up my soul… maybe… if I still had one.

Be upfront next time.

As we said before, what matters most in this world is time, so please don’t waste mine.

Don’t say “hello” if all you’re thinking is goodbye.

“I was trying to be nice.”

Nice try. That’s a lie…

And you’re a fraud.

You’re “worried” about me you say? Don’t be.

I’ll be totally fine when you’re gone.

How do I know?

Well… that’s because all along, I’ve been a fraud too.

Inspired by Words of Radiance – Brandon Sanderson.

#lies #Sadeas

Weird Game #1

Weird games. They’re weird right? Not hard to assume considering it’s in the name. Unfortunately my mind is capable of coming up with such oddities. Furthermore, my mind insists on me being an active player of these games. Here is the first… of many.

You want to know why I walk quickly? The first reason is I have longer-than-average legs. The second is that I’ve spent some time in London where at any given time most people will be in a rush, especially in tube stations. But the number one reason is this weird mental game I play.

At each street crossing I imagine that once I step foot on the tarmac, two cars, from both directions, are trying to make a Joe-meets-tarmac pancake. Stepping back is not an option as the path behind me has fallen away into oblivion. The only way forward is… well, forward. However, my legs are in iron braces, so I cannot run. What to do now? Walk baby! Walk like the wind!

It’s quite a comical sight. My mind doesn’t even have the decency to only suggest it at night. It brings such thoughts up in brought daylight. It won’t even be a suggestion! It has simply become an order my body follows at every street crossing. It wouldn’t be a weird game without awkward consequences now would it?

You’ll see me gliding across the street as I walk. If Google says walking to said destination should take me an hour, I’ll get there in two-thirds that. Why? All to avoid the awkward gawking directed towards someone who will walk like a normal person before the intersection only to act like a man on fire after it.

Jealous

via Daily Prompt: Glaring

“Hold my hand.”

Trembling, I do. I’m basically a human earthquake, a humanquake? I tremor. I can feel the foundation of my balance, my knees, collapsing. The weight of their glares makes my feet sink rapidly into the floor. A plea escapes between shuddering lips, “I can’t do this… I just ca-”

“Forget them. Focus on me. This is our night.”

Gorgeous… that she is – and more – far more than my feeble vocabulary could ever muster. Her words give me strength. They are a ray of sunlight to my Kryptonian skin, but the kryptonite of their glares still tempers my will.

“I’m with you, I’m with you all the way. Don’t worry about them. Just focus on me.”

I turn back. Oh… lips meet… what a pleasant surprise. Gasps all around the room. Are they still glaring? Who knows? At this moment I couldn’t care less. All the fear has melted into bliss.

PS I’d like to say I’ve been reading too many romance novels or watching too many romantic movies… alas that is not the case; my brain just does what it wants to do.

Don’t Break His Heart

“Don’t break his heart, his achy breaky heart. I just don’t think you understand.”

Bastille’s cover of ‘We Can’t Stop’ is nothing short of incredible, especially for me. I know how taste differs from person to person so I will say that line in particular strikes a chord in me.

I considered writing about a man with a heart of steel just the other day, I still might because come to think of it it’s an intriguing concept. But a heart of steel – that’s normally a façade. Men have hearts of flesh too.

“Women are more in touch with their emotions.”

Is this a stereotype? I hear this statement often. It’s often coupled with another statement diminishing emotion in men. I can’t speak for all men but from my own personal experience what you see on the outside doesn’t necessarily correlate with what’s on the inside.

I’m rarely envious (this comes with a lot of effort from myself and my parents) but there is a group of people that I can honestly say I’m envious of… those who cry. I’d give a lung to be like that. Unfortunately I’m not. My tear glands are among the most miserly in all the world. How I wish it were not so. I’ll be happy as can be on the inside but unable to show it on the outside. It makes me feel like I’ve cheated whoever has made me happy. If it can be fixed trust me, I will do just that… but this links to the crux of this post. I fail to show my emotions as well as I’d like… that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. It is just like a bride behind her veil by the altar. Just because she’s hidden behind her veil doesn’t mean she’s not there. If you remove the veil you’ll see her in all her beauty. If you can remove the veil to a man’s emotions. Well… I believe it could be a wonderful thing.

Bastille adds lines to the song which didn’t exist prior, in Miley Cyrus’ original. The added lined are: “Don’t break his heart, his achy breaky heart. I just don’t think you understand…”

Achy breaky… doesn’t that just bleed vulnerability to you? His heart isn’t steel – it’s just brittle.

Even the way he sings has a brokenness to it. It’s almost like he’s screaming out: there’s a heart to be broken underneath all that macho bravado. The pain of it being broken is just as real. It’s just hard to understand.

A Smashing Night

Conversation via Facebook one day after party.

Boy: It was nice getting to know you… till you absolutely crashed that is 😂

Girl: Hahahaha life! ❤ It was nice to meet you too… any chance you know where my phone went?

Boy: LOL! I mean… oh no! Sorry I have no idea where it went. Hopefully it’s still got battery. What’s your number?

Girl: Haha! Unfortunately I don’t know my number 😦

Boy: What… oh I was only asking so I could call your phone and see if anyone would answer. (basically implying: I didn’t mean, “What’s your number?” like that.) Hopefully you didn’t throw it at the party-goers downstairs 😂

Girl: People have tried calling my phone haha… I know we were a bit high up. Wait… did I try and jump?

Boy: Several times! We had to hold you back – you animal.

Girl: OMG!

Boy: 😂

Girl: What else did I do?

Boy: Well for one thing your timing was always superb. Just after joking about your life being a wreck you crashed to the floor literally a second after finishing your sentence. There was also flower pot, key word being was, till you got your hands on it.

Girl: OMG! Why? That’s crazy.

Boy: Hahahaha yeah. That was only the tip of the iceberg.

Girl: Wait there’s more?

Boy: Oh yeah! You did this weird thing where you sort of crouched down like you were doing squats using your behind to balance on every sturdy object. You did so on every wall, the fridge, the radiator… it was kind of like you were marking your territory.

Girl: Ahahahaha I can’t.

Boy: The more you drank the more easily distracted you were. I barely got two words out of you before you disappeared to mark new territory somewhere out of sight. XD

Girl: Ahahahaha OMG! As long as I was still nice.

Boy: Your irises were all black. Your pupils were that dilated. Looking into your eyes was like staring into your soul.

(Aside: This makes me wonder, does this guy even know how to pull punches? Also is he implying that the girl has a black soul?)

But you were friendly and your loco self was adorable xD

(Ah so he CAN pull punches)

Girl: Did I do drugs?

Boy: Alcohol is a drug so technically, yes you did. But in the context of what you mean, no, I don’t think so. To be honest if you weren’t so friendly tempers may have flared.

Girl: I’m glad it wasn’t too awful then.

Boy: I did laugh my ass off though, so good first meeting. Stay safe.

Girl: Ahahahaha you too!

 

PS: I still need to practise fleshing out my female characters so I’ll be doing a lot of reading now. As well as actually talking to girls *gulp*

Fire & Ice

“You’re so beautiful.”

That’s how it always started. A thought. Simple, precise, never uttered by word-o’-mouth but conveyed via thought and somehow understood. I remember one dream I had, when I was around 14, quite vividly. I believe at that age I had already reached the height of my creativity. It was perhaps the best time to write down plots to future books because the ideas bouncing around in my head back then were, I believe, phenomenal. Of course writing them down would be considered a wise decision… so of course I never did follow through. Today I’ll recount as much as of the dream in this post as is enjoyable.

Stunning. That’s is how she appeared to me. A being of pure energy. Dazzled as I was somehow I wasn’t too overawed. I was caught between two states, of both wonder and serenity. Seeing her made me realise my concept of beauty previously had a fixed volume in my head, a virtual box that contained all the amazing things in the universe. She shred this box to pieces, expanding outwards to unfathomable depths, gorgeous beyond even the scope of words in a thousand dictionaries. I could not describe to you how she appeared. She never looked the same for longer than a second as her appearance seemed to be in a constant state of flux. Her hair would grow long and hug her temple. It would caress her neck – it would disappear altogether – yet her appeal never diminished. She must have been slight for even though she exuded power and elegance there was a vulnerability that drew me towards her like bees are drawn to symmetry. Something within me yelled, “Protect her!” But I don’t think she ever needed it, or ever would – after all, she wasn’t human.

The moment flowed for an immeasurably. It could have been an instant – maybe I spent hours gazing at her – either way there was not a hint of discomfort between us. She gave off a powerful glow at the start, radiant like the sun at midday. It was bright out yet you the blue light emanating from her skin was blinding. I should not have been able to see her without shielding my eyes but I did, clearly I was pulling the strings to this dream. I immediately knew something was wrong when her radiance began to ebb. She was dying. How I came up with this conclusion only God knows but I knew she was and I instantly picked up the reason why.

Behind her falling towards us like a comet was an orange streak, a violent fireball with malicious intent. I could feel the loathing seething off it’s dark red flames. The closer this comet grew towards her the dimmer she shone. I saw fear in those beautiful pale eyes though if you asked me what colour they were today I’d say “none and every”. It pierced my heart, that. I could not come to appreciate that look of fear, wouldn’t. I knew deep down that if I could shelter her from danger I would even if it cost me my life. Obviously I, being just a man, could not do so. In what rational world would a being of flesh and blood be the protector of one of pure energy? My mind saw the flawed logic and reconciled the impossibility by shedding off my skin and revealing a cool body beneath. There was a sizzling as my true form came into contact with the air for the first time. Ice. Ice colder than anything you can ever imagine; as tough as diamond, as fluid as honey – that is what hid beneath.

The rage from the comet intensified. Arms and legs extended out of the ball of fire that hurtled towards us. I could hear abusive yelling although I couldn’t perceive a mouth on the figure of flames as it tried to take me down. We hit. The collision was spectacular! A blast of steam and sound radiated out as we tumbled across an empty parking lot leaving dark streaks along the tarmac. Once on our feet rapid blows were exchanged. The fight was on.

The being of fire was kinetic. He flew, rapidly, then swooped down like an eagle and swept flames like massive whips towards me. A “broad” range of emotions swirled across his face – namely ranging from rage to fury. He hurled fireballs towards me from all angles. He was fast… but I was cool. I slid across the surface, a coating of ice preceding me, staying on the ground the whole time. In my mind a being of ice cannot fly. Ice is dense, fire is not. Thick shields of ice rose up from the ground beneath me and the fire man pounded them with fireball after fireball until he realised he could not burst through. There was no way he was getting a scratch on her. Not on my watch, so he came for me instead, I – her protector. Like a peregrine falcon in for the kill he dived, gaining speed at an alarming rate. I stood my ground and increased the ice around my feet, encasing them, making myself immovable. No matter the consequence this would be the final action.

We collided once more. There was a resounding, bone-chilling whoosh as a thin film of chipped ice spread in all directions. In my hands was the being of fire, immobilised and slowly dying down, the cold stifling the heat… until he disintegrated with a sigh, one of relief. It seems like the being of fire didn’t like his role in my story, perhaps he was acting outside of his will. Either way it felt good. But that shallow feeling of victory was dwarfed by the sheer elation upon seeing the look of pure joy on her face. She was safe, bright and beautiful and that is all that mattered.