Ronyx
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Everything posted by Ronyx
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I’m writing this during 4th period while Mrs. Carter is standing in front of the room lecturing about the cotton gin. Abe got into some really big doo doo, and I mean a really big pile. Everyone in class was nervous as we took our seats 1st period. For some reason, this journal really meant something to Mr. Byrd. All week he had mentioned it and told us how much it could change our lives by making us understand ourselves better. So far, he hasn’t convinced me that it’s not anything but a bunch o
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Forget about the past, you can’t change it, Forget about the future, you can’t predict it, Forget about the present, I didn’t get you one! Happy Birthday, Graeme!
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So sorry, Lisa. I don't recall you asking for Down a Darkened Path, or I would have posted it. It is one of my favorites because so much of my personal life is interwoven into the story. I hesitated to post it, however, because it is such a dark and depressing story, and I wasn't sure what kind of a response it would get. So, after Reggie's Journal, it will be DaDP- just for my sweet Lisa. (If I find the time to do a proper editing of the story, I'll run it simultaneously with Reggie's Journal, maybe one chapter a week.)
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Just for you, Paul, I'll start posting Reggie's Journal on Monday. I hope you enjoy reading it again.
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Droughtquake, I dealt with this topic in a sequel to Brittle as a Bird. I followed Gene into adulthood after dealing with his sexuality in high school. That's why I didn't follow Brett's later life. I also agree with you about students today. Teens are teens no matter what generation. It is just that there are different influences, as you mentioned drugs, violence and bullying. I would also include this generation's obsession with cellphones and social media. It would be difficult to conduct a lesson on nouns and verbs when all a student wants to do is play a game or reply to a text on their phone.
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I was fifteen minutes late arriving on the field. Coach Davis yelled at me and made me run a couple of laps. As I ran around the field, Brett kept watching me as he threw passes to the receivers. When I finished, I trotted over to the coach. “What the hell you doing here, Singer?” he shouted. “You’re supposed to be practicing with your quarterback.” I walked apprehensively to the middle of the field. I still hadn’t spoken to any of my teammates. Most of them were angry with m
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Not only do we need strong independent women, we need strong independent-minded men who support them.
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When will this damn roller coaster stop and let me off? It’s been another day of ups and downs. I had just had tremendous sex with Adrian, and then I had to sit several hours later and watch my best friend self-destruct. I was still struggling with an unanswerable question- if Brett was in love with Cindy, then why was he so bothered by me being with Adrian? It seems that he was really affected by seeing me and Adrian kissing in the boys’ room. He had been kissing Cindy behind my bac
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Thanks for the great comments, Everyone. I enjoy reading them, even though I don't reply to each of you individually.
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I woke up early the next morning. I had a lot of trouble getting a peaceful sleep. I kept thinking about everything that had happened the past few days. I cannot really explain it, but I do not think I was as scared about the future. Meeting Adrian had really changed my life. Before him, Brett had always been my world. Charlie was right when she said I had followed him around like a loyal puppy for years. I could now see that that was true. I don’t think Brett saw me as a loyal follo
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Thank you, Rndmrunner. Life isn't always black and white. If it were, it would much easier to deal with. However, life is filled with a lot of grey that we ultimately have to sort out.
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You're very welcome, darkwind.
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I awoke the next morning with Adrian spooning me from behind. I could feel his hard cock pressed up against my back. The sun was just beginning to shine into the window, so I figured it must still be early. I lay awake feeling Adrian’s warm body. He was breathing gently, and I could feel his chest rise and fall against me. Each time he breathed, his cock would nudge me slightly. I was starting to get hard. It felt strange being in bed with someone other than Brett. It sounds odd, but
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I have a niece who is a lesbian. I love her like a daughter.
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I was waiting impatiently in the driveway for Charlie to arrive. I kept pacing back and forth. She told me she would be there in ten minutes, and twenty-five minutes had passed. My father kept coming out onto the porch to check on me. Finally, I saw a small blue car speeding down the block. I immediately recognized the person with the green hair sitting behind the wheel. She pulled into the driveway and almost hit me. “Where’s Adrian?” I shouted leaning into the window.
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I appreciate all the insightful comments I'm receiving on this story. Thanks for taking the time to write something special. Ron
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Your comments, Graeme, always make me feel like you've gotten inside my head. And trust me, that's a dangerous place to be.
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The meeting with Coach Davis was emotional. I had already been wracked with emotion dealing with Brett, now I had told the coach I would be back to practice on Monday. Well, not actually told him. He told me to be there, and he wasn’t asking. I knew if I didn’t show up, he could make the rest of the school year hell for me. I love running track in the spring. It is one sport that Brett and I don’t participate in together. He prefers baseball to track, so we usually don’t see much of
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I ran out to my car and sped away from school. I had just hit my best friend, or I should say my former best friend. A few days ago, I would have kicked anyone’s ass if they had lifted a finger to him. Now I had hurt him. When I got home, I went straight to my room and threw myself across the bed. I couldn’t get over the sinking feeling that our friendship was finally over. For the past couple of days, I had hopes that maybe, just maybe, someday we could be friends again. He had bee
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I felt bad on my way to school. The expression on my father’s face when he said that my mother had left was tormenting me. I was the reason she was gone. They had spent nineteen years building a relationship; and now she had left because I was gay. Dad kept telling me that it really wasn’t my fault. He said they had been having marital problems for the past few years, but they didn’t want me to know. He said he had almost left on several occasions, but he had stayed because of me. He
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Numerous gay and lesbian youth were submitted to the horrors of conversion therapy by parents who thought they were doing the right thing for their sons or daughters. So in my opinion, what Corey's mother is doing is no different than a parent who would ship off their child to a Christian conversion camp for 'cleansing.' It happened more often than we are probably aware of. I appreciate all the comments this story is generating.
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After leaving the lake, I drove Charlie to a friend’s house and then went home. I had decided not to go to football practice. In fact, I was going to talk to the coach in the morning and tell him I wasn’t going to play anymore. Brett was the team’s quarterback, and I was his star receiver. There was no way I could avoid him on the field, so I wasn’t going to play anymore. I knew Coach Davis would be really pissed, but I didn’t care. It was early when I got home. Mom and Dad wouldn’t
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War by Ronyx In the hour of the present, Destination takes its flight; Soaring into no man's land On a guided missile site. Phantom demons- on horizon, Bearing down on charted dell, Robot soldiers with toy machine guns Labor in the choking hell. Tainted men in self-confinement, with minds of cluttered waste, Strategical logistics Contemplate unrealistic haste. The sheep of blinded multi
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This is a poem I wrote as a teenager about the ravages of war. History repeats itself, and lessons are never learned.
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Thanks, droughtquake. I thought I'd try it to see if it works.
