Cold Plate of Lasagna

Everyone in the little bistro stopped what they were doing when the four men came in. Three of them wearing expensive tracksuits with golden Rolexes. You could see they were connected from outer space. The man at the helm was wearing a tailored suit and a nice looking jacket over it. He stood out as the more serious of the group, higher up it looked like it. The group of men walked to the most further corner of the small establishment. The one secluded behind some decorative plants and shrubbery.

“Sit,” The man in the suit ordered the others.

A fat mobster in a white tracksuit sat opposite of the suited man. The two others sat on both sides.

“Should we cute to the deal now or order first?” The suited man asked.

“I’ll order. I’m fucking starving,” The fat man against him responded and waved down a waiter.

The waiter came and took their orders, nodded politely and hurried back with drinks. The conversation was rather dull at the table, business and the old ways the only things discussed. After a 20 minute wait the waiter came with the meals prepared, saying goodbye to some leaving customers.

He put pasta in front of all the mobsters except the suited man who had lasagna.

“Enjoy your meal,” Said the waiter. “I hope it’s just how you expected it,” He said left with a smile.

The fat mobster dove right in and started eating. Taking sips of wine and stuffing his mouth, “So, the business?” He mumbled, pieces of food falling out of his mouth.

“The deal here Tony is simple. You did an unsanctioned hit on another man’s soldier.”

Tony, the fat mobster, hit his hand on the table, “I had my fucking reasons. The fucker was skimming on my turf.”

“I promised I would deal with that myself,” The man on the left joined in…

“Silence, Sammie. Please,” The man in the suit yelled and turned back to Tony, “You fucked up big-time. The only reason why you’re here using that mouth of yours is because boss has history with you.”

“Oh, spare me the fucking bullshit!” Tony said.

“You’re a fucking prick.”

Tony stopped chewing, laid down his fork. His face changed expression and his eyes flashed with murderous rage, “I resent that Louie. Very fucking much.”

Louise chuckled, “You can resent it seven ways to fucking Sunday. Doesn’t change the fact you are a prick,” Tony wanted to say something but kept silent, “This is the deal. Sammie wants ‘S&L Construction’ as reparations.”

Tony almost choked on his food and spat some out, “Are you fucking crazy? You really think I’ll say yes?”

“The kid was a good fucking earner—” Sammie said.

“Shut up. Now listen Tony. This is the only move you have left. We came here light. No one packing. This is a negotiation and we want both sides to agree.”

Tony laughed his words off, “Negotiation. It’s a fucking shakedown, is what this is. I’m no fucking jibone. No way I’m giving him that racket.” As he spoke his words Tony took a look around the bistro and found only a handful of people were left. Two wise-guys slumped over a drink, some old geezer on the other side of the room, the waiter, owner and his wife. Suddenly Tony knew what was coming.

He put the fork down and wiped his mouth clean, “So that’s how it is. No one is packing. Who’ll do the hit then? Someone waiting outside? Huh?”

Everyone stayed silent.

“I’m not taking the deal,” He said. “Forget about it,” Tony took a beat. “Yeah, and fuck you. All of yous.”

Louie sighed and looked down on his still untouched piece of lasagna on the plate. He reached for it and slid his hand in between the layers. Others just looked on in surprise. Louie took out his hand from the piece of lasagna, now all strewn around and pointed a small, snub nose gun. The gun still covered in tomato juice, cheese and pieces of meat. He cocked the gun slowly knowing Tony won’t run.

“No, Tony. Fuck you, you fat fucking fuck.”

The gun went off a couple of times, hitting Tony squarely in the face, blowing off bone in the back of his head and destroying what used to be his nose and eyes. Tony slumped over and dropped right into the plate of pasta. The red liquid quickly spread across the white table and down the floor. The two other men remained unmoved.

Louie took out a cellphone and speed dialed. He waited a few moments before a voice appeared on the other line, “It’s done. The whale has been beached,” he said and hung up.

esn13:

Love, I’ve learnt, is a talent.
Some are born with the ability to do it,
others have to practice and practice and practice
before they can even get close.

You said that I wasn’t broken,
I was just different,
and that I wasn’t perfect
I was something beyond that.

I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t believe you for a second.
I’d be lying if I said that I don’t think
that the rust on my heart is wearing
off, with a more stainless metal 
making its way out.

And I don’t want to lie any longer;
I love you,
in every unclear, indecipherable sense of the word.
I love you,
and I won’t hide it.

I wasn’t born with this talent in my blood,
but you’ve taught me so much,
already.

I love you,
I love you,
in every spine-cracking, nerve-wrenching sense of the word.

Take It Down, Take it Off

Lacey has been writing poems for people who requested. She wrote this one for me.

therecipeisgone:

He’s a treble cleff
Melody played
By dying fingers
On a bitter Winter’s
Night.
He’s not the kind
To drop by
And stay for
A while
Like a head cold
Getting old
Fast.
He’s bottled
Up, tethered
Down. A
Salacious Paris
Night.
He’s the kind
Of rain that
Makes you let
Your hair down,
The kind of pain
That whispers
Let your
Guard
Down,
The kind of sane
That tells you
Let your clothes
Down
Low, and
Don’t ever
Pick
Them
Up.

(via therecipeisgone-deactivated2013)

Nothing But An Earring

It’s a bit longer but I think this is a really amazing piece. Bee did a really good job here. I read it a few months ago and remembered now. Thought I should reblog it. And you need to read it. Now!

starry-eyes-and-starry-skies:

That night had started off simply enough, you could say. I was down on my luck in the love department and I just needed a fucking pick me up. Some boy had left me cryin’ again and the second I got off work I met up with JD at the bar. He set out to find himself a girl that night and I set out to forget about yet another boy who’d plucked out a piece of my heart and squished it underneath the sole of his shoe. In an effort to help me pretend this one had never existed, JD kept my glass full the entire night.

Our story didn’t start off in the bar. To be honest, I never even saw her in the bar that night to begin with. No, our story started outside the bar. Supersonic had already shut the bar down with the nightly ritual “Closing Time” blaring through the sound system. I was three sheets to the wind and was on a desperate mission to claim the title of the best wing(wo)man.

The memories from that night kick started after the bar had already closed and we were outside smoking the last cigarettes of the night. JD bummed a light from another girl and due to my level of sobriety, or lack thereof, I decided to smoke one for the road. Wing(wo)man at work and ready to go! She lit my cancer stick as well and kept herself occupied talking to JD and me while waiting for her friend who was still inside.

I was deep into my second cigarette in a row when the door opened and she stepped out. My conversation skills must have been excellent regardless of my BAC because JD had this girl locked down, he had a mission to finish now. I was leaning up against an unknown vehicle when the new arrival walked up and asked for a quick puff. I handed it to her and insisted she have the rest. She seemed to take the bait, even if I hadn’t realized I was offering any. The next few moments were a bit of a blur.

The remaining inch of the cigarette fell to the ground, letting up tendrils of smoke to remind us it wasn’t done yet. I had not a care in the world for that cancer stick as this girl took charge and pushed me flat up against the car. I always have a nervous habit of looking away or down when meeting new people and the amount of alcohol in my system had caused my attention to easily sway to all of the other last minute smokers still in the parking lot. However, the second her lips touched mine my attention was hooked and my hands did the rest of the talking my mouth was too busy to do.

JD and the other mystery girl broke their conversation to let out cat calls at us. We broke away blushing and giggling. She seemed as if she didn’t plan what had happened, but had nonetheless enjoyed herself. And hey, who said I was complaining? I had come to the bar because a boy had broken my heart and this beautiful girl was sweeping up all the pieces for me.

I finally got the chance to let my eyes do the drinking. She really was beautiful. Her hair had been done up all fancy, craftsmanship of the friend she had come with. Well, it had been fancy. My hands managed to destroy in just a few solid moments what probably took the better part of an hour to fix up in the first place. A small part of me felt bad, but the bigger part of me thought the work my hands did made it look even better. She had chocolate colored locks that were starting to fall out around her face and I swept them back so I could really get a good look at her.

Her eyes, damnit, they were hazel. Her single dimple indented into her left cheek as my chin dropped with the embarrassing realization I had whispered that out loud. Her skin was soft and I loved the feel of her fingers running up and down the length of my arms. Even more so when she lifted my chin with them and took her time exploring unfamiliar territory with the second kiss.

I knew that JD had started his own tongue treatment on this girl’s friend and vaguely heard him ask his conquest for the evening if she wanted to head back to his house. As if mutually agreeing to his statement, my head snapped in JD’s direction at the same time her’s did. I was about to offer the same option to my girl but her lips and teeth lighting a trail of fire down the side of my neck was a good enough answer for me.

As soon as the front door to JD’s house was slammed shut, I had her pressed up against the back of it as JD dragged his girl down the hallway to his room. And then there were two. My hands made quick work of peeling her top off as I kissed each inch of skin as it was revealed. I pulled away to look at her, “Damn, you’re somethin’ else. You’re fuckin’ beautiful.” I’d never meant anything as much as I’d meant that confession. She was already going to be my undoing and I had only known her for the better part of an hour. I was hoping this was all just the alcohol talking but in the back of my mind I knew I was going to fall for this one, too.

Her lips were soft and delicate, taking care to massage mine with gentle kisses. My teeth tugged on her bottom lip and she let a gasp of excitement escape her mouth. I made eye contact with her before she took hold of my shoulders and flipped us around. In mere seconds the heat in the room spiked and we made our way over to the couch as she ripped my top over my head. I landed on the couch as I tried to catch my breath while she straddled my lap.

“It’s my turn again,” my voice seemed to purr as I regained dominance of this dance.

I took my place on her lap as I let my mouth explore her neck again. She smelled amazing and the noises coming from her lips as she panted her excitement back to me were equally as enticing as the rest of her. I wanted to hear every noise she could make and I wanted to be the reason for each and every one of them. I pulled back when I heard a scream and realized it was coming from down the hall.

“Go JD!” I laughingly proclaimed as I made the connection.

The girl beneath me giggled at her friend’s noises coming from JD’s bedroom and took my moment of distraction as a welcoming invitation to tease my neck. She bit down in several places and goosebumps over took my body as a shiver shot down my spine. I realized in that moment that she was still nameless to me, the alcohol was starting to lighten its hold on me and I realized that I had never even thought to ask her name.

“I just realized I don’t know your name. How rude of me…” I trailed off leaving room for a response.

“Sarah,” she whispered with a small grin on her face. She also had one of those silly last names that you don’t usually believe is real until she whipped out her driver’s license to prove it. With me still perched on her lap we made a little small talk after I shared my name with her as well. She was the definition of magnificence if I’d ever seen it. When she smiled it made her eyes light up and that cute dimple to pull in the side of her cheek like it had before. I kissed her again, it felt like the only way to answer to a smile like that.

“Just a warning, I fall for people extremely fast. I’d be careful if I were you,” I half-jokingly tossed her way as I pulled back to look at her again.

“Don’t you say that.” She said with the utmost sincerity in her voice.

“Why?” I asked with blunt confusion and concern on my face.

“Because I would be the one you don’t decide to fall for,” She whispered halfheartedly as she looked away from me.

I carefully grabbed her chin and lightly pressed my lips to hers once she was facing me again. I took my time with this kiss. I could feel her relaxing and sinking further into the couch as I ravished her with the softest of kisses. I wanted her to know exactly the way I could make her feel, both physically and emotionally. Even though nothing was said, my lips still conveyed their message and told her what she needed to hear.

“Baby if you want me, I’m yours,” I breathed across her lips as she weaved her fingers through my hair.

We shot up as we heard JD’s bedroom door open and scrambled to throw our tops back on before they made it to the end of the hall. Sarah and I met eyes mischievously beside each other on the couch as we burst into applause as they rounded the corner into the living room. JD and Sarah’s mystery friend just turned red and laughed as they stepped out on the front porch for a cigarette. I had heard from many smokers before that the post-coital cigarette had an extra kick to it, so it only made sense that would be their first expedition upon leaving the bedroom.

I fell back onto the couch, pulling Sarah down with me. We held hands while we snuggled and stole kisses from one another. She was the most spontaneous and unexpected thing I had happened upon in quite some time. She was the perfect dosage of medicine I needed to kick yesterday’s bad news and his cobwebs out of my head and my heart for good. That boy had missed his chance and this girl was ready and willing to take hers while she could.

JD and his girl came back inside and after some friendly conversation between the four of us the two newcomers announced it was about time they head home. JD tagged along as I drove them back to the bar where they had left their car. I rolled the window down to say goodbye to Sarah as she got out and she pulled me in fast for one last kiss before skipping off to follow her friend. I knew this was a night I wouldn’t forget, especially not any time soon.

We made it home safely, the booze from the night’s festivities having worn off significantly. We both sensed it was time to call it a night as we flopped onto the couch I had previously been occupying with Sarah. JD reached down to pull something out from underneath him. I looked at him confused when he opened his hand to reveal an earring. I laughed out loud knowing whose it was and JD gave me a look that said he had underestimated what activity had transpired while he was taking care of his own business in his bedroom. I threw him one last teasing remark about what Sarah and I had overheard and I headed off to crash in the guest room. I left her earring on the entertainment center and smiled.

I had every intention of returning her missing earring, but six months later and it turned out she’s the one who couldn’t let herself fall for me. Who knows what happened on her end, I know I never will. She’ll always be someone special to me, she’ll always be that amazing girl I started to fall for after that one guy broke my heart. She left and never looked back. With her sudden departure, she left me with nothing but an earring, a new heart break to patch back together, and a couple more ‘what if’s to ponder over.

The Vault of Secrets

I think this is a pretty good idea. Sometimes just venting and telling your secrets can be good. It’s worth a shot and should be supported.

the-peony:

So guys, I have been inspired to start a new project. It’s called “The Vault of Secrets”. Last night I was bored and I asked my followers to submit secrets. I am amazed at the response I got and it made me think – so many people have secrets and they have no one to share them with.

A few secrets really knocked the breath out of me. There are so many suicidal teens who have no way of sharing their thoughts, or simply don’t know how. There are so many people suffering in silence. 

There are so many people on here who have no one to talk to. I want this blog to be the place where you can share anything you want, a place where you can unburden yourself without being judged. No secret is stupid, silly, dumb, or worth keeping.

I will publish your secrets with tidbits of advice if necessary and offer you resources for the type of secrets or questions you ask. This will of course work Anonymously so the identities of the involved can be protected at all cost.

There will be no statcounter, or any type of tracking. This is a blog where you can feel safe. 

Please share/reblog this with all of your followers. Let’s make a change!

SHARE YOUR SECRET.

— Jazzy aka the-peony

(via the-peony-deactivated20130101)

Sarah Birnbaum

thesectretsunknown:

As she walked into the apartment should smell the stench of coffee and body odour was mixing in the air. She looked around, he was nowhere to be seen. She knew he was here, somewhere. As she walked into the kitchen she noticed the sink was full of dirty dishes, mainly mugs with dried coffee stuck to them. She opened the fridge, the smell took her by surprise, she wasn’t expecting it to be that bad, she opened the carton of milk and could see the lumps that had formed from neglect. It was three weeks old.

As she made her way into the lounge, which looked relatively clean, almost untouched she heard a moan. She followed it and it was there that she found him in the bedroom masturbating.

He looked up at her, slightly surprised, “How did you find me?”

“Your too predictable.” She replied without looking up at him.

She was examining the bedroom. It was basic by all means, a bed in the centre, a wardrobe to the side, a door on the left presumably to a bathroom.

He carried on masturbating, moving his hand slowly up and down the length of his cock. She noticed the magazines that had been tossed on to the floor. The cover was Tiffany Thompson, nude (of course) holding on to a relatively large cock in either hand.

She took her jacket and placed it on one of the chairs, she sat on the other watching him. She was looking into his eyes, for some sign of life, something in him that would tell her he was still there.

He started back at her, he didn’t want her there, she knew it and he knew it but somewhere deep within him was the need to be rescued, from nobody but himself. He knew she would, she always did.

“I bought you some stuff, the essentials. Just what you’ll need to get settled in,” she said still staring at him, occasionally looking back at his cock to see how close he was.

He was hurt, maybe she didn’t really care after all, maybe he was right, maybe nobody cared and he was better of alone, out of sight and out of mind. It showed on his face.

That’s what she was looking for, pain, hurt. As long as he still felt something he was there. Now it was just a matter of time before he realized it too.

“Thanks, get me some tissues too?” He smirked, trying not to look bothered.

“I did as a matter of fact.” She reached into the carrier bag and pulled out a box of tissues and threw it in his direction.

He carried on working his cock, the speed at which his hand was working had increased slightly, bringing him closer.

“Have you ever heard of Sarah Birnbaum? No I don’t suppose you have. She was a regular girl just like me, except she wasn’t like me. Some say her brain was chemically imbalanced, or that she had bipolar disorder, or that she was depressed, or even anxiety disorder. Nobody really knew because everyone thought that Sarah Birnbaum was a regular girl. She smiled and laughed and had family and friends but one night Sarah drove a hundred miles to San Francisco, climbed up to Golden Gate Bridge and threw herself of it. She hit the water at 75 mph, most people die from the the impact, very few drown or die from hypothermia, not not Sarah Birnbaum. She survived.”

He was listening to her although still jerking off, now almost ready to cum.

“Sarah Birnbaum had a 2% chance of surviving, she was taken to hospital and her friends and family gathered around her, sobbing, trying desperately to understand why she had tried to end her life.”

So she was going to tell him a rosey little story of some girl who almost killed herself but survived by chance and lived happily ever after, he thought. He expected something better than that from her and with that thought he grabbed a tissue from the box she had thrown at him, he was ready to cum, any second now, there… “Ahhhhhh.”

“and even more remarkable is that out of the 2% of people die who survive she was part of a further 4% who actually walked again. Sarah Birnbaum was lucky alright, luckless girl alive, well that’s what the doctors told her.”

He got up. Made his way to the bathroom and got rid of the tissue. He had decided not to get dressed. He walked back into the room naked and asked, ” Is that all you have? A lucky girl? I don’t care for her, or her story. Your wasting your time.”

He sat on the bed, looking at her, feeling almost angry. She wasn’t making him feel any better, she was better off leaving.

“I don’t need it, I don’t need any of it. I’m happy the way i am right now, alone. Stay, stay if you want, if it pleases you, but no happy story is going to get me jolly as fuck if that’s what you wanted.”

“I haven’t finished.” She said calmly.

“You see everyone told Sarah Birnbaum she said was the luckiest girl alive, except Sarah didn’t want to be alive. So after she recovered she drove back to San Francisco and jumped again, this time she did it. Sarah Birnbaum is floating at the bottom of San Francisco bay. You see if your going to do something you do it, eventually you do, Sarah understood that.”

“What’s your point?” He asked, looking agitated.

“You understand that too. You don’t want to be left alone, you don’t want to be floating at the bottom of San Francisco bay like Sarah Birnbaum. If you did you wouldn’t have let me find you, you wouldn’t have let me stay and you wouldn’t be talking to me right now.” And with that she picked up her jacket and left.

Find Empathy

Jen said it all really. Before tumblr I didn’t know much about depression and self-harming. I don’t know anyone in person that suffers from it, to my knowledge at least, but most of my friends are guys and guys aren’t likely to share these things. I’ve met people here that suffer from depression, self-harming and suicidal tendencies and they have become my great friends. They taught me a lot about this problem and I’m happy to be there for them when they need me as a friend. People need to learn this is a serious issue and you can’t tell people to just stop. It takes professional help, support from friends and family, and it takes a lot of effort and time. It takes love, support and empathy, something we can all give.

jayarrarr:

I’ve seen entirely too much of this not to write something about it. I’ve said things about it to people privately, but I’ve never spoken out publicly. I’ve never used this platform to speak about such issues directly, because I’ve not felt it was my place. It is now.

Anyone currently coping with depression, self-harm, and/or suicidal tendencies is not a child who simply needs to grow up and quit whining and get over themselves. Please. Depression is a chemical imbalance in the brain; it is a physical illness that happens to affect the brain and its thought processes rather than affecting some external physical function. Would you chide someone with cancer for being too weak, and tell them they should just go out and exercise? Would you mock someone who was paralyzed for being too “lazy” to walk? I’d hope not. Kindly consider not sending such mocking, ignorant, and condescending messages to people coping with depression.

Instead, educate yourself. Learn that what these people, myself included, are coping with is a daily struggle. It is a painful existence, and it is not something you can just “brush off” and go on about your day. Yes, medication can help, but being medicated for a mental illness is not the same as taking aspirin because your back is sore. Every brain is different, and every brain reacts differently to different drugs. It takes time to find the right balance of medications that will help the patient. You don’t just go see a shrink, take two pills, and suddenly become a happy, healthy, functioning member of society.

Writing, on tumblr or any other platform, is a healthy and therapeutic activity. Moreso, many write on tumblr not just for the sometimes cathartic experience of “writing it out”, but to find companionship, understanding, and support from other souls who are coping with similar issues. Such activity should be encouraged, not disparaged or condemned.

Find empathy, seek understanding, and above all — be good to one another.