fic 23 (maybe) - don't. / abuse in terms of popular culture. [guess?]
title: Don't. / Abuse in Terms of Popular Culture
fandom / pairing: you can pretend this is orginal fiction or you can take a stab at who you think this is supposed to be. (guess?)
rating: R
synopsis: see title?
author's note: Culture abuse. Abusive relationships. 180 words of italisized quotation. Ask me if you want to know where the hell I got any of it from. Chances are some of these things you won't have encountered. This isn't meant to have any moral inclinations one way or another. Could read as anti-smoking but that's not really what I'm talking about.
word count: 500w approx.
You’re fascinated. Enthralled. But you know he’s as bad as playing with matches. You know he’s worse.
“Don’t.” But that just makes you want to do it more anyway.
Whatever you do, don’t think of a crocodile.
Of course, he catches you looking.
Don’t walk on the grass.
You ignore the warning signs. You’re spurred on by the idea that he’s no good. It’s not because you want to fix him, make him better. It’s probably because you want to hurt.
There’s only one tree in the garden that you’re not supposed to eat from and you really want to.
How d’you like them apples?
Obviously, you didn’t care about scripture. And you never learnt the moral of the story. And you’ll surely never, ever learn.
So, you did it anyway. So what?
You did it anyway and you’ve got the scars to prove it. You’ve got the cigarette burns. He’s playing with matches again. He’s got the matches again.
Smokers die younger
Cigarette boxes don’t use full stops
They should. If they did maybe then people’d listen.
Boys don’t cry.
You never once let him see you cry. Because you’re a man and you can take it.
Take it like a man.
You thought about crying in front of him. You wanted him to hurt the way you did-sometimes. But, really, you thought he’d probably just get a kick out of it.
POLICE LINE - DO NOT CROSS
One day, maybe, there’ll be police tape across the door of your apartment and they won’t let you back in to look at the chalk outline of your body on the living room floor. But you’re probably being melodramatic.
Death is but the next great adventure.
Who comes up with that shit anyway? When you’re dead, you’re dead. And all you want to do is live. At least he makes you realise that you’re alive, that you want to be alive.
Live for the moment.
Every second counts.
Every eight seconds someone dies from second hand smoke.
Every five seconds somebody dies of AIDS.
Consider the consequences.
This is your life and it’s ending, one second at a time.
With all these mantras in your ears you know you’re the victim of the media. Mass media. Selling causes. Selling global warming. Selling how you should be living.
With a gun in your mouth, you only speak in vowels.
With the prospect of never feeling anything ever again, a few punches don’t exactly seem like much.
Live for the moment.
The world is your oyster.
This is your life and it’s…
This is the way the world ends…
Men lead lives of quiet desperation…
This is your life…
Don’t forget to breathe.
POLICE LINE -
Don’t walk on the…
Smokers die…
Boys don’t…
Whatever you do, don’t think of a crocodile.
On a long enough timescale…
Consider…
Every eight…
Every five…
Every second…
This is your life…
Consider the…
Don't think of the word ‘searing’ or ‘flesh’ or ‘tissue’ or ‘charred‘.
Don’t think of a crocodile.
“Don’t.”
Too late. You already thought of a crocodile.
fandom / pairing: you can pretend this is orginal fiction or you can take a stab at who you think this is supposed to be. (guess?)
rating: R
synopsis: see title?
author's note: Culture abuse. Abusive relationships. 180 words of italisized quotation. Ask me if you want to know where the hell I got any of it from. Chances are some of these things you won't have encountered. This isn't meant to have any moral inclinations one way or another. Could read as anti-smoking but that's not really what I'm talking about.
word count: 500w approx.
You’re fascinated. Enthralled. But you know he’s as bad as playing with matches. You know he’s worse.
“Don’t.” But that just makes you want to do it more anyway.
Whatever you do, don’t think of a crocodile.
Of course, he catches you looking.
Don’t walk on the grass.
You ignore the warning signs. You’re spurred on by the idea that he’s no good. It’s not because you want to fix him, make him better. It’s probably because you want to hurt.
There’s only one tree in the garden that you’re not supposed to eat from and you really want to.
How d’you like them apples?
Obviously, you didn’t care about scripture. And you never learnt the moral of the story. And you’ll surely never, ever learn.
So, you did it anyway. So what?
You did it anyway and you’ve got the scars to prove it. You’ve got the cigarette burns. He’s playing with matches again. He’s got the matches again.
Smokers die younger
Cigarette boxes don’t use full stops
They should. If they did maybe then people’d listen.
Boys don’t cry.
You never once let him see you cry. Because you’re a man and you can take it.
Take it like a man.
You thought about crying in front of him. You wanted him to hurt the way you did-sometimes. But, really, you thought he’d probably just get a kick out of it.
POLICE LINE - DO NOT CROSS
One day, maybe, there’ll be police tape across the door of your apartment and they won’t let you back in to look at the chalk outline of your body on the living room floor. But you’re probably being melodramatic.
Death is but the next great adventure.
Who comes up with that shit anyway? When you’re dead, you’re dead. And all you want to do is live. At least he makes you realise that you’re alive, that you want to be alive.
Live for the moment.
Every second counts.
Every eight seconds someone dies from second hand smoke.
Every five seconds somebody dies of AIDS.
Consider the consequences.
This is your life and it’s ending, one second at a time.
With all these mantras in your ears you know you’re the victim of the media. Mass media. Selling causes. Selling global warming. Selling how you should be living.
With a gun in your mouth, you only speak in vowels.
With the prospect of never feeling anything ever again, a few punches don’t exactly seem like much.
Live for the moment.
The world is your oyster.
This is your life and it’s…
This is the way the world ends…
Men lead lives of quiet desperation…
This is your life…
Don’t forget to breathe.
POLICE LINE -
Don’t walk on the…
Smokers die…
Boys don’t…
Whatever you do, don’t think of a crocodile.
On a long enough timescale…
Consider…
Every eight…
Every five…
Every second…
This is your life…
Consider the…
Don't think of the word ‘searing’ or ‘flesh’ or ‘tissue’ or ‘charred‘.
Don’t think of a crocodile.
“Don’t.”
Too late. You already thought of a crocodile.