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 red skye at night

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Female Number of posts : 7
Location : in my head.............which is in manchester with the rest of my body
Age : 16
Registration date : 2006-08-11

PostSubject: red skye at night   Fri Aug 11, 2006 4:11 pm

erm this isnt really my thing i write poems not stories but i decide to do this for sum reason so tell me if it sucks and tell me what i can do to make it suck less confused
apparently its too big its gona hav to be posted in 3 bits


Bulletboy- 10 July 2005
Monday 10 Jul 05 21:26
iv never really wrote a diary or if i have i haven’t stuck at it for too long so i dont know why i think this will be any different , i cant remember the last time i actually completed something i set out to! just like every other book ,diary or journal your destined to be forgotten after a few short weeks , once my attention is taken by something else ........but for the time being i will spend my time striving to find something to write about and we'll pretend like this is the most important part of my day when all my thoughts are laid to bed and i tell you my deepest darkest secrets. I would feel as though im cheating if i failed to mention my short attention span just so it clear from the start ,so you know what your letting yourself in for after all i relationship with rocky foundations is bound to fall eventually.

Bulletboy - 11 July 2005
Tuesday 11 Jul 05 11:16
just like everything in my life at the moment your only temporary , a distraction from reality until i can face what’s really going on around me.

im sitting by the phone counting all the times your voice has made me cry its only your answer machine but every time it clicks i hold my breath for a split second and wish it wasn’t.

Who new a phone call could change so much or the lack of one could hurt so bad?

i thought it was what you didn’t know that couldn’t hurt you.

thebestdamnliarinthewholeworld!orthatswhatitellmys elf

Bulletboy - 17 July 2005
Monday 17 Jul 05 17:15
How are you today? i feel i haven’t payed you much attention in the past week but things are moving slowly now and i have time to breathe.

you know when you get so used to something you don’t even notice it anymore?

like the slight accent only becomes apparent when i havnt heard your voice for a while.

every 20 seconds for the past 2 years the alarm in the hall has bleeped, not very loud but defiantly noticeable. though as i sit here writing this i don’t hear not sure whets more unsettling , that i dont here it , or the thing that makes me feel safe is knowing that its bleeping because the batteries have gone

its like you i know that in the end you will only cause me pain but for now your sort of comforting and maybe in time i will grow so used to you i wont even notice your hurting me.............................. or has that already happened?


bulletboy - 21 July 2005
Friday 21 Jul 05 17:29
i have an exam tomorrow i wish it was on you i know every chipped and crooked tooth that bit into my lip every fleck of green in your heavily made up eyes and every single curl in your "naturally straight hair".
Muscle memories bullshit apart from when i reach for you in the middle of the night!

mood: apathetic
currently reading: your mind

i watched dear Wendy today isn’t it messed up how i wish i was the gun?

i could continue writing this and like everything else make it feel real.its easy to lie to other people but to yourself?....that’s a real talent.isnt it sad ive got it down to a science?

I’ll drop out of this like ive done before out of windows out hearts out of fashion out of sight.

i find it almost impossible to keep anything going so why do i take it so hard when i fail?

Don’t wait up kid the next entry relies on me and thats nevera good thing.


bulletboy - 22 July 2005
Saturday 22 Jul 05 16:00
sometimes i feel like im on the outside looking in sometimes i fell like im on the inside looking out sometimes im sick of looking.

Currently reading: the little prince

i wish i was his single rose in the glass cage. ive been stung more than once by you.

i saw you today but not how you think..... i saw you in myself. in the way i walked (head bent ....sort of down trodden) and the way i found it almost impossible to look anyone in the eye. why are you so defeated when the battle hasn’t even started ? You don’t even have to be here to make me cry ..........

..........mascara bleeds black tears.

On paper you would probably be my worst enemie YOur every thing in not ANd nothing that i WAnt but what i hate is what i love YOur the WOrst and BEst thing THat ever happened to me
you were a
of self inflicted pain
an apathetics dream

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Female Number of posts : 7
Location : in my head.............which is in manchester with the rest of my body
Age : 16
Registration date : 2006-08-11

PostSubject: red skye continued   Fri Aug 11, 2006 4:12 pm

Bulletboy -06 august 2005
Saturday 05 august 22:27

Its been a while since my last entry but nothings really changed it almost makes me miss the fast paced months i spent with you ...almost. I’ve spent a week with my thoughts and come to the conclusion i don’t really have that much to think about anymore.

location:somewhere inbetween creative genious and insanity

Yesterday i sorted through a box of my old stuff. I found a photo album all the pictures were religiously cut to size and labelled things like "Christmas 94" or "ice creams on the beach”. As i was flicking through it accrued to me that there was no photographs of the hard times, the tears , the tantrums. Those sorts of memories are shoved to the back of a draw somewhere as if they never happened. Looking through you would think my upbringing was flawless. All gathered round a table or lined up in height order grinning at the camera strategically placed in front of the most festive or tidy backdrop. This is the way it’s always been and probably always will be ............ but then again faking is my speciality!

I happened across a collection of letters from you. At one time i knew them all by heart, now there just questions ive forgotten the answers to and stories i cant remember the endings of. Back then it felt like we were the most important thing ...... the story of the year but in the grand scheme of things we were barely a moment in time. Reading them reminded me of the times id dabbled with black magic in an attempt to win your heart or worse still the times id hit the bottle because i didn’t. you would think i would have learnt by now there’s no genie at the bottom all that lies with the dregs of JD are regrets and more problems.

bulletboy -07 august 2005
Sunday 07 august 20:08
Writing from: the luggage compartment of a train
There’s 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 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 attened 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 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
couldn’t get an appointment at the hairdressers until Wednesday and as i wasn’t 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 was 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 ask you why you were with me you would simply giggle and reply "because you cut your hair for me”.
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. I’m painfully thin which
is accentuated by my tight black skinny legged attire and my chin sticks out too much though
I’m told it’s chiselled (which is good ......... i think).
So now I’m sat here on this train in my best black jeans and a crisp white shirt i havnt
Worn since college .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 a 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 there’s 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. if 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.
There’s no better cure for pain than pain and nothing makes you forget your troubles more than more troubles.
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Female Number of posts : 7
Location : in my head.............which is in manchester with the rest of my body
Age : 16
Registration date : 2006-08-11

PostSubject: continued   Fri Aug 11, 2006 4:13 pm

Bulletboy -08 august 2005
Monday 08 august 09:54

back in Manchester
its weird being here so early I’ m rarely out before noon these days i just sit in my room I’ m not even sure why i bother getting dressed anymore. I know its starting to get to my mum but she’s bitting her tongue (a trait i picked up at an early age ).the only time she even bothers to try and talk to me is to comment on how i look like "death" and need to eat more or to deliver letters from Dallas .If it wasn’t for him i would be almost one hundred percent sure i was adopted .Dallas is 21 has my older brother but we have always been more like friends we told each other everything and i was the first to notice he was using. of course i didn’t expect my father to notice he’s a shadow of the man he used to be he has the look of a someone who’s had had his dreams stolen from them on more than one occassion.he had his heart set on being a musician as a kid but soon after meeting my mother she became pregnant with Dallas and he had to get a job in an office. After I was born the money situation was even worse but in an attempt to give my mother the family she dreamed of he worked crazy hours at a job he hated and within years the cracks had started to show. From his yo-yoing weight to his unexplainable familiarity with pouring drinks i watched him handle the bottles with experience and a scary confidence for a man who was only a "special occasion" drinker. He strived to fund the lifestyle my mother longed for and worked late most nights to furnish the house she loved more than she loved him.
One day when i was eleven i came home to them arguing this was something I was used to but i was confused as to why my father was home so early. As i sat in the front room i heard the story unfold my father had been seeing his co-worker or "hoe-bag family wrecker" as i remember my mother saying and had come to say he was leaving. My mother was a strong person so it gave me a sickening feeling watching her grovel at my father’s feet like that and even worse to watch him ignore it. Later that night i was told father was going to be "working away" for a while and that if anybody asked he was in a new office in Scotland. on the day of his return a couple of months later my mother kissed his cheek and asked how Scotland was, he grumbled something about being the same as Manchester and just as expensive. family life settled back into what mother deemed expectable and we acted as though it had never happened, no matter how many times my father left us she would always take him back .this is the way my mother deals with things she fills in the cracks and smoothes the creases so much so that she actually believes it herself. It’s painful to watch but what’s even worse is how like her I ‘am.
When Dallas got put away i was shocked to find myself telling people he was "working away" or "out of town”. He wasn’t a bad kid he just had his way of dealing things, when dad started to get aggressive towards mum and him he took it quite badly. I remember one night I followed him out of the house i watched him pick up his board and make for the ramps at the park round the corner. When i got there he was as i had imagined throwing himself into the most complicated flips and tricks he hit the floor over and over again but still got up and carried on. I longed to go over and comfort him but as i knew too well it was best to leave him to it, blood trickled from his head knees and arms he wiped his eyes on his t-shirt and walked over to a group of guys. It was like a slap in the face watching him hand over a wad of notes for a bag of blow. my eyes prickled with tears and i was suddenly aware that i was stood in the middle of a park at midnight with no shoes on and no jacket and this guy who i had shared a room with for 15 years but didn’t recognise anymore. That night i ran round to your house scaled the trellis opened your window and climbed into the familiar pink powdery smelling comfort of your bedroom. it only accured to me when you opened your eyes that i was stood at the foot of your bed shivering tears rolling down my cheeks with bits of branch in my hair. But whatever I do no matter how extreme it never seems to faze you.

The following morning I wrote a song for you .as I sat and let my bleeding heart run on to the paper I never drempt what would become of the scrawled confessions of a broken heart from a broken family.

Bulletboy-10 august 2006
Wednesday 10 august 5:00

This may only be a line in a song and I know im no curt cobain
Its only four cords and a chorus but I hope it wont be in vain
I could be your Romeo if you’d only let me try
And you could be my Juliet but I won’t let you die
I don’t have much to offer just this simple song
And my love that I assure you is guaranteed life long
Im just a broken heart from a broken home
Just a broken heart that’s scared to be alone
But I could ve your romeo if youd only let me try
And you could be my Juliet but I wont let you die

Empty promises

Its words that’s all it is ………………………..words don’t mean jack shit
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Female Number of posts : 7
Location : in my head.............which is in manchester with the rest of my body
Age : 16
Registration date : 2006-08-11

PostSubject: continued   Fri Aug 11, 2006 4:14 pm

Bulletboy-11august 2006
Thursday 11 august 22:43

Red sky is that Sheppard’s delight?
All the colours are so harsh now my rose tinted glasses have been shattered

Love is a tricky thing how do you know when your with the right person?
Well the way I see it if your willing to give up the chance of meeting “the one” just for a little longer with the person your with your onto a good thing.and you never really know if your with “the one” ………………………… well not until its too late doesn’t matter if it hurts to be with them sometimes because it always hurts to be without them.

That’s what I had with you .

Bulletboy-13august 2006
Saturday 13 august 09:59

If you think crushes crush you try falling in love when there’s no one to catch you
Real update when I wake up

Bulletboy-15august 2006
Monday 15 august 20:12

Ive spent the last week trying to convince myself theres nothing I can do.t
I returned your stuff last night its all part of the healing process. what was I supposed to do with a bunch of rhetorical questions and books for a school I don’t attend?
But some how I managed to leave one photograph out ,were sat on a wall near your parents house.the wind is blowing your hair across your face and are hands are entwined in a way I thought could never be separated ………….i guess I was wrong.your so beautifull you hardly notice the breathe taking scene of mountains we have our back to it has the look of amateur photography with an understated model.
How did this happen to us?
We were so young and in love ………………well I guess that was sort of the problem.

Bulletboy-19august 2006
Friday 15 august 18:34

What do you do when everything they say about you is true?

I spent 17 years being ignored and now im finally being recognised just not for the reasons I had high school nobody knew my name I had a few friends but non of them really knew me id get through classes just thinking of how we would be together on the way home.some days id spend so long in silence with no one to talk to I wasn’t sure that I could speak even if I tried.i wasn’t bullied exactly infact sometimes I wished that someone noticed me enough to trip me up or steal my money.i found myself watching enviously as the weird kids got name called or a broken just sit and draw in my note book creating scenarios where I would become popular or drawing pictures of the person I wished I was.i loved art but despite that theres no other lesson I hated more than art and design.the sterile desks in a white washed room were linned up perfectly to face the board where some equally un inspiring lesson plan was wrote up.all my reports read “Isaac has a true talent but for some reason can not apply this to class tasks his potential far exceeds his coursework” it was true I didn’t try in school I scrapped by on just pass mother had always said that as long as I did my best she would be proud this was a stupid thing to say to a 14 year old boy so I did what I could get by on and passed it off as my made me feel like I exsisted again like I was untouchable as long as I knew you were waiting at the gates I could sit through a whole day of being overlooked.when I was with you I felt wanted that night the night we made love for the first time I knew that I would never feel unnoticed again.I had waited for that day my whole life and even now there isn’t one that can top it.

it was decide that you would come back to mine after school. I spent the week tidying my room, washing my bedding and moving the dirty pots. you had been in my room before you had seen it at its worst but this was different it had to be bought the condoms and stashed them in my sock draw , even though Dallas was behind bars i I still felt embarrassed to leave them lying around. All day I thought about nothing else and when I you met me at the gate I thought I was going to explode with excitement. we walked home in silence just grinning at each other and swinging are hands. when we got back to mine I offered you a drink and led you up to my room. you pulled me by my tie until our lips collided, hands shaking I started to peel of you shirt one button at a time. You Pulled at my shirt hoping for the same button ripping effect wed seen in films but it didn’t quiet tear clean it just left a gapping hole, you ran your hands up my chest up to my chin. you pulled my mouth away from yours and looked into my eyes and said “ I love you issac Daniels”. you went of into my bathroom while I pulled my trousers of and read the instructions on the back of the condom packet. you returned in your bra and knickers (the ones I’d bought you for Christmas) and walked over to the bed ,at this vital point I heard a key in the front door. my dad was shouting about something in his usual incoherent slur my heart sunk as you looked on the floor for your clothes. I went down stairs to reason with him, something I hadn’t done in a while you sat patiently on my bed. when I returned with a tear in one eye and a print of my fathers fist on the other you pulled me onto the bed and started to undress again you took your tie and blindfolded me with it. you led me to the window sill and told me to step out. I took your hand as you led me up over the garage and onto the flat part of the roof where the slats meet with the extension over the guest room. you left me there for what felt like hours just listening to the low hum of the traffic disintegrate into the occasional car speeding past .when you returned you fussed around besides me for a while and then with a flourish removed the tie to reveal all my bedding and sum candles set out. it was the most amazing feeling shortly followed by an even better one.
Afterwards we lay beside each other taking in what had just happened. Id never felt so close to someone ….ever, I kissed you gently pressing my lips against yours and feeling your heart beat. we lay there all night just talking it started to get dark but the candles provided a dim light, just enough to see each other. I showed you my scars, the tear in my knee from my first skateboard,the slight dint under my chin from time my dad had showed me I was nothing ,the cross on my neck from a mock sword fight with dallas and the very faint lines on my wrist from when I was new to being let down by everyone I loved. You kissed everyone and then fell asleep, one hand on my chest one entwined in mine.i stayed up all night just watching you breath in and out in and out it was the most beautiful thing id ever were the most beautiful thing id ever seen.

If only it had stayed that simple how was I to know that you were gona make me hurt like id never done before.

What do you do when everything they say about you is true?
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Male Number of posts : 3
Location : Australia
Age : 17
Writing forte/s : short stories & Poetry of all sorts
Registration date : 2006-09-11

PostSubject: red skye at night   Wed Sep 13, 2006 6:03 am

this is actually really really good. its so descriptive and emotive. its like you were transported into the life of the kid. i find the format of diary entries particularly compelling for it adds a sense of time and place to the story. the language emphasises the boys composure and insecurity. i think this is quite superb you should write some more stories id be very interested in reading them.
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