Bottle @turpentinebottle - Tumblr Blog

180 year old dhampir pretending to be human. He/him

16+ to follow pls more mature content sometimes

The figure I see in the water, the love I feel across the table sitting in an empty seat while I'm lounging at a cafe, & the figure following my lead.

In the water he wears a dress. White or black, it doesn't matter. It clings to his boxy, thin figure wonderfully, luring me into the deep navy waves. I miss his siren song. I walk as far as I can to him without my boots touching the water. I'm afraid if they do, I'll walk in & never come back. I repeat the action mindlessly for over an hour. My friend is waiting for me across the way. I don't quite know, but he is tonguing his boyfriend while I see outlines of what is not there.

The cafe. I had gone alone, having ran away from a psychologist that had scared my frail psyche. I had got myself a piece of chocolate cake & a cup of black brewed coffee. I drink my coffee black most of the time, but if I'm outside, I'll typically get something special like a mocha. But I had already gotten something sweet with the cake, so I avoided it. I sat alone in the midday sun, the air-con blasting in my head as I skimmed through my book. He is there. Across from me. In simple clothing mirroring mine. Some 90s metrosexual look. I'd like to think we both look good in this sort of style. He looks at me as the rest of the world chatters to each-other. We are silent. I am silent. I am alone.

Tonight, across from me he followed as I drunkenly maneuvered my feet along cream colored-tiles. A simple collared shirt, completed by a set of suspenders & a patterned tie. The full-cut of his trousers flowed in time with our movements. 3/4, but not the feeling of a waltz, playing from record player I had struggled to get working, & had struggled to find an album for. I settled on a set from a jazz quartet I had heard before.

Now I sweat in the room above, alone. I am a lunatic. This is what keeps me sane.

#drunken ramblings #angsty text post

My fucking back yo.

awwwww they're so cute

#art #nickistat #nicolas de lenfent

I draw pre vamp nicki with freckles

Last night I didn't manage to sleep until nearly 5 in the morning. Some weird sort of inspiration always takes me when I am unable to sleep. I find myself in the garage, not quite knowing when I got there, with my hands pulling up the cover to the acoustic piano I had acquired from some rich person for free. I call him Jacques.

It's out of tune, dirty, & the keys are sticky on the higher end. The low G key just doesn't work. But I like it nonetheless. When I sit on the matching bench, hunched over, a sort of fugue takes over me. I don't think much about what keys I am playing. On some nights, I can keep some odd improvision going for nearly a third of an hour.

As I am a simple, lazy man, my compositions are not very good, & typically in the key of C major or A minor. I have been trying to branch out. Last night, I was toying with Bb minor. I think I have something new. I have been playing the same things for a while, so this is good.

#angsty text post

The times where I feel alive are shrouded with much fog. But, during them, there is a great passion that emanates from somewhere in my body, turning me into some extroverted-ecstatic-mysterious creature that disappears after the night ends.

An impulsive decision to take my father's car to go swing dancing, wearing some flared navy trousers & some rope tie around my neck. I schmooze easily. First, I take a lonesome-looking boy's hand & spin him like a girl. Next, a similar woman. From there I forget. By 21:00, I am being twirled around by a gentleman older than me & much more experienced with me. I get dizzy. I have to stop myself from throwing up. I sweat harder than a cool glass of water in hot summer humidity.

By the end of the night, my feet are in much pain. I am a stubborn bastard who insisted on wearing boots. I go home, & have a hard time sleeping from the caffeine I had pumped into my body much earlier. The next day I wake up around noon. I don't do much of anything. The self present from the evening before is gone. I am back to being a soft, anxious thing of much pliability.

#angsty text post